CYNICISM has been a constant companion to the career of Frank Bruno.

Like most British heavyweights, his favourite position is supposedly the horizontal.

Ringside spectators are said to be in danger of being struck by flying glass whenever he fights - as soon as someone plants a decent punch on his "glass" jaw.

And some of the men he has fought have been about as useful as an umbrella in the middle of the monsoons.

A prime example was a bruiser named Chuck Gardner who turned up to a Spanish bull ring four stones overweight and left it before the "ding" of the opening bell had gone "dong".

If your mission in life is to knock people then Bruno was an easy target.

His extracurricular activities hardly helped in his desire to be taken seriously.

First there was a Shakesperean performance alongside Lenny Henry in which Frank played an oversized "Juliet".

Then there was his famed double act with BBC commentator Harry Carpentar.

"Know what I mean, 'arry," became part of the act which reached ridiculous proportions when Harry cast all objectivity aside during Bruno-Tyson One and screamed into his mike: "Get in there, Frank".

And finally there were the commercials for HP Sauce, a delicious blend of herbs and spices that takes longer to get out of the bottle than Bruno does to get away from a punch.

Frankly, it was tough not to be a mite cynical about the career, boxing or otherwise, of one Frank "Bomber" Bruno.

Even when he won the world heavyweight title by defeating Oliver McCall, some saw this as the biggest joke of all.

Frank Bruno, heavyweight champion of the world?

Oh yeah, and Shergar, ridden by Lord Lucan, should win this year's National, provided he does not fall.

There was more than a hint of scepticism displayed by this reporter whenever the subject of Bruno cropped up.

When he lost to Lennox Lewis in 1993 I wrote that "he should retire full-time into Christmas pantos". But that was before a series of interviews I did with him, mostly for pieces that appeared in boxing's bible The Ring Magazine. What followed was a change of heart that rivalled the conversion of St Paul.

He came across, not as the buffoon-like character of the TV commercials and soundbite, post-fight interviews, but as a quick-witted, thoughtful and intelligent man.

This was never more the case than when we sat together a few days after the tragic encounter between Nigel Benn and Gerald McClellan.

We talked about the fight, its unfortunate consequences and the realities of a crude, cruel and questionable sport.

What emerged was not only Bruno, the fighter, but Bruno, the man.

"No matter whether it's an amateur, a young pro fighting six two-minute rounds or a world title challenger, it takes a brave special kind of man to get into the ring," he said.

"Boxing's not like soccer, where you can pass the ball, or American football, where you can have a breather.

"It's a very dangerous sport.

"There have been deaths in the ring but other sports involve more risk and have caused more deaths than boxing: motor racing, horse racing, skiing, rugby, football and so forth.

"And what about all the wars in the world and the fact we've got people starving while food mountains are lying in waste.

"It's crazy that people should become so worked up about two grown men who have made the decision to box.

"Boxing is a way of getting a lot of people out of trouble who would instead go straight to prison.

"A lot of men are thankful for boxing, it's saved them, man.

"So I can't really knock it at all."

These thoughtful, measured responses hardly square with the public persona.

And in a subsequent interview, after he had defeated Oliver McCall, he told me that the public perception that he is nothing more than a pantomime star hurt him deeply.

"I'm an ordinary human being who hasn't let success or fame turn him into a prima donna," he said.

"I've always been myself and, even after realising my dream of being world champion, I'm still the same old Frank.

"But it hurts at times when people think there is nothing more to me than, 'Know what I mean, 'arry,'.

"I have taken some abuse down the years and if I hadn't beaten McCall I don't know what I'd have done.

"I'd have locked my door and not come out or gone on the first plane to some remote island and not come back.

"It was real bad, man, but I stuck with it and came through it and I'm still smiling."

Whether or not he is smiling this time tomorrow is another matter.

Mike Tyson is the most mean and malevolent figure in heavyweight boxing since former convict Sonny Liston terrorised the division in the early 1960s.

Bruno has hankered after a return ever since he lost to him in 1989, convinced he now has the necessary know-how to beat him.

"That is my new dream," he told me.

"I wasn't mentally right or in the right shape when I fought Tyson before.

"The date was changed six times and I was going up and down and never reached a peak.

"I would love to end on a high note by beating Tyson.

"I respect him because he's good for boxing. But I am not afraid of Mike Tyson. He's human, he feels pain and he's beatable.

"And I have a plan to do it."

I too have a plan to beat Mike Tyson.

But it involves gathering several rounds of ammunition before rounding up a posse.

DOOGAN'S VERDICT: "THE left hook that Bruno landed in their first fight seven years ago was the first indication that Tyson was slipping. But Bruno's inability to hammer home the advantage was ample evidence that he does not have the necessary instincts to finish off a hurt fighter. I would love to say Frank but it's got to be Tyson by sixth round stoppage."

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