McCauley’s amazing marathon ring career
THE game will miss Kevin McCauley, one of the busiest fighters in the business, a man who faced the very best and saved a string of shows by answering promoters’ calls for a last minute opponent.
What’s more, he did it with a permanent smile on his face.
McCauley, who fought out of Stourbridge, earned his title King of the Journeymen the hard way.
He took his lumps against a long list of champs, from lightweight to middle.
Kevin, now 43, bowed out with a typically “against all odds” performance against muscled, menacing Birmingham middle Mussab Abubaker last March. He took the powerful prospect the four round distance.
That was Kevin’s 251st contest in a career that began in 2008 with a loss. He bows out with 15 wins, 12 draws and was on a losing streak spanning over 60 contests when announcing retirement.
Yet Kevin failed to hear the bell only 14 times – and judging by the calibre of opposition he faced, that statistic is truly staggering.
He pushed a young Liam Smith to a points decision, took big punching Kaisee Benjamin the full course, gave Sam Eggington a good test, extended Frankie Gavin over the full distance and faced world title challenger Jack Catterall among many other top domestic fighters.
Kevin faced the elitr, with no questions asked, at very short notice.
He is one of the game’s unsung heroes and it will miss Kevin McCauley.
In 2019, I interviewed the larger-than-life character. His honest words shone a light on the mindset of Britain’s band of “have gloves will travel journeymen”. Here is Kevin’s story…
AS the referee raised his hand in a show of victory, battle-scarred Kevin McCauley looked at the official in astonishment and mouthed: "What did you give me the win for? I won't get any ****ing work now."
Not the usual response from a winning boxer, but McCauley is no ordinary member of the blood-and-bruises business.
He is the busiest member of the band of brothers known as journeymen: fighters who are hired to test, but not beat, prospects.
It's an unglamorous, but busy and well-paid profession.
Kevin, who has won just 15 since joining the paid ranks 11 years ago, averages three bouts a month, the majority taken at short notice. He fights again on August 30 in Aberdeen, and again on September 9 in Bellshill, North Lanarkshire.
He's currently on a 42 fight losing streak and admits retirement is on the horizon. McCauley is planning for life away from the ring. He has a gym in Lye, has applied to be a manager and trainer and recently gained a degree in criminology from Wolverhampton University.
The key for a journeyman is to lose but last the full course. Stoppage defeat means a suspension, a suspension derails the gravy train.
Winning can be an even greater curse. If a journeyman beats a hot prospect, he may be considered too dangerous to be risked against other young bucks.
It's more financially beneficial to bury ambition and be beaten without a beating.
Surviving the course takes guile, guts and defensive skill.
Like all other members of the "have gloves will travel" club, Stourbridge's McCauley knows his place. And his place is in the away corner. His place is providing future stars invaluable experience over the full course of a contest without threatening to burst their bubbles.
His place is well away from the TV cameras, with violent performances played out over four and six rounds on small hall shows.
Speaking with remarkable candour, McCauley said: "If I can have a go, I will have a go. I get the lads who think they're a future world champion and it's my job to show them they're not.
"Money talks. If there's a fight there, I'm there. I don't need much notice. It's getting harder, but money talks.
"I don't think people understand the game and how it always works. They think every fight's a 50-50 fight and that's not always the way. Boxers will talk about fighting the best, but, really, no one wants to fight anyone in the sport. That's how I make my money - everyone wants to fight a loser."
The father-of-two's approach to boxing can be best described as "pragmatic". If the fighter before him is too slick and powerful, he'll slip into defensive mode.
If an opponent doesn't "push the button" too hard, he won't "push the button" either. Cynics may call it a "if you don't try to spark me out, I won't try to spark you out" approach.
He admits to occasionally bailing out - "rolling over", he calls it - during contests when the risks to health far outweighed cash on the table.
Surrender is a rare occurrence for McCauley, who has faced the country's best from lightweight (nine-and-a-half stone) to light-middle. He's only failed to hear the final bell on 14 occasions.
"I get more bruises sparring the missus," he laughed.
He enjoys a pint, smokes - "10 a day, it's more out of boredom" - and has taken fights when well below peak fitness. McCauley fought one prospect while suffering food poisoning - "I was throwing up in the dressing room", has agreed to very late notice jobs after downing a couple of pints and has boxed after a skinful the night before.
Of one defeat to a top prospect, he quipped: "Should've done more to warm-up than drink a cup of Costa coffee, really."
Of another, he shrugged: "I wasn't going to go out guns blazing, was I?"
Not surprisingly, opponents stopped attempting to intimidate McCauley through trash talking and eye-balling long ago. It's water off a duck's back to boxing's ultimate marathon man.
"I'm the most un-nervous person," he said. "They expect me to have a go. A lot of them are quite respectful and expect me to play the game. If they're leery, I'll put a lot more into it. If they're horrible, I'll be horrible to them."
There's little to be gained from waking the beast within McCauley.
There have been nights of glory. He won a Masters belt and gained the Midlands welterweight title by outpointing Dave Ryan in 2010.
McCauley, originally from Brighton, excelled at judo, reaching international standard, before a broken arm scuppered his rise through the ranks.
"I had a few years off, found women and beer," he laughed. "My dad was a good amateur boxer and I thought I'd have a go. I was 27, had four amateur fights over a year and won two.
"I did like to get stuck in and they don't like that in the amateurs. That p***** me off."
McCauley turned professional with no pretentions of setting the world alight. He simply wanted to earn money. He's succeeded.
Since then, he's fought the best. His record is a "who's who" of champs. British welterweight champ Frankie Gavin outpointed him, European titleholder Sam Eggington stopped him in 2013, British middleweight champ Jason Welborn outpointed him, so did British welter champ Bradley Skeete and world light-middleweight king Liam Smith. Kevin rates Smith.
The Eggington defeat rankles. "I trained hard for that one because I knew I could beat him on a skill level," said McCauley. "I trained hard and honestly believed I boxed his head off.
"He caught me with a right hand and I fell into the ropes and the ref stepped in. I was livid, I was two rounds up."
Of Gavin, he said: "I told him afterwards, 'if there had been 24 rounds, I'd still be standing and you wouldn't'. He just laughed."
There are some regrets, but McCauley stresses he's still in love with the game.
"I wish I had a go and been able to sell tickets and do it properly," he admitted, "but my life didn't allow me to do that. Eighteen months and I'll be gone. I have a little gym in Lye. I'm trying to get lads in white collar boxing to turn professional and earn some money. Hopefully do better with it than I have.
"If they come to me saying they want to win a world title, I'll tell them they've come to the wrong man.
"I love boxing more than anything."
McCauley's retirement will live a gaping hole in the sport - and promoters frantically searching for fighters capable of taking last minute, dangerous assignments with only one question asked: how much?
You may not find Kevin McCauley's name in the record books, but he's established himself as a ring king - king of the journeymen.