Frank and Fearless: A Life in Boxing

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Superbly illustrated throughout, this book is a great conversation piece, fascinating to flick through, and almost unputdownable once you have. But there are digressions aplenty, such as a night out in London with Frank Sinatra (Warren promoted his dates at London Arena, the ill-fated venue he co-owned), where, still in his stage clothes, ol’ blue eyes became ol’ red eyes after drinking a whole bottle of Jack Daniel’s. From his humble beginnings in North London, he has created a multi-million-pound business empire as one of the UK's most high-profile promoters, staging shows that have featured some of the world's biggest names, such as Frank Sinatra. True to form, Warren fought back, regaining his health and breathing new life into his business, only to fall foul of the legendary Don King. Constable also boasts a strong non-fiction section, publishing the likes of HRH Princess Michael of Kent and bestselling parody We?With cameo appearances from Frank Sinatra, Luciano Pavarotti, Pink Floyd and the Philadelphia mafia, Frank and Fearless is the unflinchingly candid and hard-hitting memoir of Britain's most famous and influential boxing promoter. Biography: In an era spanning forty years, Hall of Fame boxing promoter and manager Frank Warren has worked with some of the biggest fighters in boxing history.

In Frank and Fearless , Warren pulls no punches, taking us behind the scenes into a world of blood and sweat, and intense relationships that all too often end in tears.Frank Warren has spent forty years working with boxing's most colourful and controversial characters. Descriptions of skulduggery in 60s north London, involving his Uncle Bob being sent down with gangster Frankie Fraser for knifing the “horrible bastard” Jack Spot, and associates such as Moishe Blueball (so nicknamed because he had one discoloured testicle), segue seamlessly into Warren overturning the complacent boxing establishment. On one level it’s the gritty saga of the rise of a Labour-supporting plucky young buck from an Islington council flat, albeit a plucky young buck with sufficient underworld connections for a Crimewatch special. Ted Heath might have been castigated too, but Warren leaves Heath snoring soundly in London Arena’s front row, during the former prime minster’s unlikely attendance at a Duran Duran concert. Armed (as it were) with little more than an eye for both a boxer and, more crucially, a boxing deal, Warren became an extremely wealthy Conservative-supporting adult and the owner of a Hertfordshire mansion.

En conséquence, toutes les commandes passées en ligne entre le 26 et le 31 janvier seront retardées. Unafraid to blow his own horn (“I’m the most successful manager of fighters this country has ever had, as well as the most successful promoter”), some of Warren’s claims are risible, such as the suggestion he’s never had “a sniff” of a fixed fight, or after detailing his charity work at exhausting length, “I don’t do things for the glory, which is just as well because I haven’t had any”.

However, while he declares “I know with cast-iron certainty who it was”, he seems not to have shared this perhaps crucial information with, say, the police. The guy didn't say anything, but I could see that he was shaking like a leaf, obviously a bag of nerves.