Eight years after his last professional contest, former two-weight champion Tim Bradley says he doesn’t “miss anything about being in that ring”.
In a conversation with Dr. Margaret Goodman and me in the latest episode of our Fighter Health Podcast, Bradley – who has always been one of the most open and honest of boxers when it comes to discussing the dangers and challenges of his chosen profession – was unequivocal about his happiness at not having stepped between the ropes since a loss to Manny Pacquiao in 2016 that left his career ledger at 33-2-1 (13 KOs). Diego Chaves, who escaped with a split draw in a bout in December 2014, was the only opponent Bradley failed to best in a career that culminated in hall of fame induction in 2023.
“The ring is a very, very lonely place,” he explained. “The hours inside the gym; the miles on the road; it gets a bit too much. You get worn down and worn out. And just with my boxing style, not being a big power puncher, being short and having shorter arms and having to get inside of these bigger guys at 147lbs, even at 140 you know, it’s treacherous, I’m not gonna lie. So, I don’t miss much about fighting inside the ring at all.”
Bradley, who turned professional in August 2004 after “about 145” amateur bouts, frequently did things the hard way.
He went to England to face the highly regarded WBC 140lbs titlist Junior Witter, and left Britain with the belt wrapped around his waist. He won the first of three contests against Pacquiao despite suffering an ankle injury that left him in a wheelchair at the post-fight press conference and despite the fact that virtually nobody outside two ringside judges thought he was even particularly close to winning. And he produced arguably the finest performance of his pro career, a victory over fellow future hall-of-famer Juan Manuel Marquez, just one outing after his most torrid in-ring encounter – a clash of almost unimaginable violence with Ruslan Provodnikov that left him with severe and lingering health issues.
Bradley revealed he was offered the opportunity to take shortcuts on his way to the top but was adamant about his refusal to consider them.
“Was I ever offered performance-enhancing drugs?” he asked rhetorically. “Hell yeah, I was. Hell yeah, I was. And the person that offered me the performance-enhancing drugs is no longer in my life, because I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked that that person would even ask me that. I’ve built my career on hard work. My father’s been by me. My father’s pushed me. He’s put me through grueling training; training camps over and over and over. Built me since I was a kid.
“There’s no way in hell do I need to have performance-enhancement drugs to do my job inside the ring. I don’t need it. I believed in me, and I had too much respect for the sport and too much respect for my opponent to be cheating – to have some sort of advantage over my opponent. I don’t want that. Sorry. I like the struggle. I like the challenge.”
There were times, however, when the struggle must have seemed too much to endure – not least following that brutal encounter with Provodnikov in March 2013.
Smarting from the reaction to his official win over Pacquiao in his previous outing, Bradley aimed to make a statement against the comparatively crude but immensely hard-punching Russian but almost immediately found himself in trouble. A clear knockdown in the opening frame was incorrectly judged by the referee Pat Russell to have been a slip, and a second-round Provodnikov assault had Bradley rubber legged and hanging on for dear life. In a big hole, Bradley called on every ounce of heart and smarts he possessed, taking a lead on the scorecards with a display of skillful boxing that left his opponent cut above and below his left eye. Still, however, the Russian kept coming and in the 12th and final round he broke through again, dumping Bradley on the canvas in the dying seconds but ultimately falling just short in a ferocious battle that left the American suffering badly.
For months afterwards, Bradley said, he suffered “headaches [and] mood swings”. He had “trouble sleeping; light sensitivity; dizziness”, and problems with his balance and awareness of his body position and movement.
“I was off,” he said. “I would walk, and I would think I would clear a corner, and really, I didn’t clear it all the way, and I would bump it with my shoulders. I would lean down to pick something up and stumble. My speech was slurred slightly.”
Recovery took months, and that it only took that long is, Bradley said, testament to the determination of his wife, Monica.
Monica, Bradley explained: “Was adamant about getting me help. She reached out to everybody. I went out to concussion specialists out in Pittsburgh; I went out there and I took all these different tests and a color MRI of my brain. They told me, ‘Look, right now, with the damage that we see, you’re going to have CTE, there’s no doubt about it. And from what we see, you should retire.’ And I’m like, ‘Well, I’m not ready yet. I can’t retire right now.’ But deep down inside I felt it – something wasn’t right.”
Nine months later Bradley was able to produce a boxing masterclass to outpoint Marquez, but five fights after that he was done. He retired at the relatively young age of 32 and segued effortlessly into a role as a boxing analyst for ESPN and a frequent presence on ProBox TV.
Still, the notion that his brain is now a ticking time-bomb that at some point will likely explode with CTE must weigh heavily on him?
“Every fighter knows what they sign up for,” he insisted. “Every single fighter. We know. We know what comes along with this boxing game; we understand it. It’s a tough sport. It’s a tough way to make a living. We know the after effects of it, or the possibilities, and we’re all okay with it. I know there’s a point, when I get older, that things will change eventually. But for the time being, I’m trying to maintain; I’m trying to exercise; I’m trying to eat a lot better now than before; I’m trying to lose weight. I’m trying to at least hold it off as long as I possibly can. And the best part about it is just doing commentary. It’s constantly working my brain.”
Bradley is determined that none of his children will follow him into the ring. While his boxing career brought him fame and fortune, it came at a cost that he endured so that they would not have to.
“I used to always tell my wife before fights, I would say, ‘Hey, come here. Come to my room. I want to talk to you’,” he said. “And I would tell her, ‘Hey, look at me. Look at me in my eyes’. We would sit down together so we would hold hands, and I would say, ‘Look at me right now. I’m doing this for our family. That’s what I’m doing it for.’ I said, ‘Look at me in my eyes, because the person that you see right now is not going to be the same person that’s going to get out of that ring. I’m going to be a little different every time I step out of that ring’, and we would cry, and she would leave, and I would get ready and go to my dressing room and get prepared to go to battle. But that was always a serious talk with my wife. She don’t want to live that anymore.”
In the circumstances Bradley could be forgiven for any feelings of ambivalence toward the sport that has dominated his life. But not only does he not resent the sport for what it has put him through, he continues to love it for what it has given him. Having been honored with a place in the hall of fame for his contributions between the ropes, he is now fully focused on being as good as he can be with a headset outside the ring.
“I absolutely love boxing,” he asserted. “It’s a part of my life and it has to be a part of my life. Canelo says it best: ‘Boxing is life.’
“I’m better suited when I’m around it; looking at it. I love [doing] commentary. I love giving my opinion about it. I watch boxing every single day. This is what I do. The same way I was inside the ring when I was fighting, I am with commentary and being an analyst. I always have to know what’s going on. I always have to have my ear to the ground. I always have to be listening. So it doesn’t change with me. That’s just my nature; just how I’m built. I always have to give my absolute best. So boxing, to me, is life, and whether I’m commentating or not, I have to talk about boxing because that’s what makes me feel complete.”
