

"He did everything that a trainer, a manager, a coach could ask for," McCauley says of Douglas.
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The trainer's mind wanders to their camp back in Columbus, to his daily runs with Douglas in Sharon Woods, to the high-octane sparring sessions with pro boxers like James Pritchard and Fred Whitaker. In the six months leading to this mild February afternoon, Team Douglas didn't misstep, McCauley's sure of it. Since leaving behind a job loading tractor-trailers to train Douglas some seven years ago, this is the day they've been working for, waiting for, and here it is, unfolding in a haze of surreality. And you'd never know his mother and best friend, Lula, had died 23 days ago in her Linden home following a hypertension-induced stroke.įrom across the room, J.D.

You'd never know the mother of his son had recently been admitted to an American hospital with a potentially fatal kidney ailment. You'd never know, just the day before, that Douglas had been injected with penicillin to combat bronchitis, the flu and swollen tonsils. His body language, loose and lively, radiates cool.Īt a glance, you'd never know he's moments from a championship fight against "Iron" Mike Tyson, the 23-year-old king of the heavyweight division, whose professional record had improved to 37-0 the previous July following his 93-second knockout of Carl Williams. This afternoon, the former college basketball player is at a taut 231. In nine years as a professional boxer, Douglas' fighting weight has seesawed between 208 and 260 pounds. The 29-year-old is in the best shape of his life. The red and white tassels on his shoes bob in rhythm to the hip-hop beats as sweat begins to fleck his rangy 6-foot-4-inch frame. He should be sitting, relaxing, meditating, but he's bouncing around his Tokyo Dome dressing room to a blaring boombox.
