Jimmy Geoghegan: Taylor, Trump and the Enfield man who was a contender

Did you get up in the middle of the night to see Katie Taylor make history against Amanda Serrano the other week? What a warrior Taylor is; her achievement in topping the bill at Madison Square Gardens ensuring her place among boxing's immortals. One of the most revealing aspects of her professional career is the way she herself sought to kick start it.

After failing to land gold at the Rio Olympics she looked to carve out a niche in the pro game. To that end she sought out trainer Ross Enamait in America. She had read his books about life and boxing and felt he could bring her to the next level. Her instincts, her gut feeling, proved right. She shaped her own career, she didn't wait for someone else to do it.

In the build up to the fight in the Garden I thought of another boxer who didn't win a world title but was a contender nonetheless - Meathman Seamus McDonagh. Back in the summer of 1990 Seamus got an unexpected chance to fight one of the biggest names in modern boxing - Evanader Holyfield. For a brief moment the Promised Land beckoned for young Seamus.

A few years ago I met Seamus at his home in Enfield. He was there for a short stay and I went out to have a chat with him about his amazing life and career.

Seamus lives in the US and has done so for years but likes to return to home from time to time - back to Enfield. His father, Jim McDonagh, was a boxing man and years ago set up a club in Enfield "behind Gorry's garage" as Seamus put it. He learned a lot about the science of boxing from his father. He was also encouraged by coaches such as Christy Kelly and Frank Kelly from Kildalkey. Great boxing men.

Seamus was good at the old boxing game. He became an Irish junior champion. He attended school in Kilcock CBS but after his Leaving he moved to New York and worked for a time bringing tourists around Central Park on those horse-drawn carriages. He boxed Stateside and his talents were noted; he was given the chance to turn professional. He fought in Madison Square Gardens. At one stage he was ranked third in the world at cruiserweight, ninth at heavyweight. A considerable achievement.

There was a feature of Seamus's life that probably prevented him from achieving a higher ranking - the demon drink. Seamus, as he was to be later told, was an alcoholic. He found it difficult to stay away from the stuff. At 27 an unexpected chance presented itself. Holyfield was looking for a fight as he waited for his chance to take on Mike Tyson and Seamus was selected as an opponent. If McDonagh won there was a talk he could earn $25 million. As it turned out he got $120,000. After expenses he was left with $60,000.

The fight was in in Atlantic City in Trump Tower, owned, of course, by the one and only Donald Trump. One of the hardest things about being a pro, for Seamus, was having to go off the drink a month or so before a fight.

He admitted he was totally unprepared for the Holyfield experience. He found it "traumatic". Consumed by nerves he bravely fought on and lasted four rounds against the bone-crushing punches unleashed by Holyfield. Afterwards Trump congratulated McDonagh on his efforts. Seamus was to tell me something I found sad more than anything. He only learned to be “a real boxer” when his career was almost over.

Seamus was to eventually give up the drink and get his life sorted. Like Taylor, Seamus McDonagh certainly knows something of the loneliness of a boxer who has to step into the ring on his or her own and face the whirlwind.