Morris Hope suffered more outside the ring – at the hands of his evil, hateful, bigoted neighbors – than he did during his illustrious career.
Born in Antigua, Hope, 72, is the son of parents who were part of the Windrush generation, who arrived from the West Indies in the 1950s.
3
3
3
Mo was nine years old when he left the sunshine and the island’s 365 beaches to join them on the cold, grey streets of Hackney, east London.
And like many Caribbean kids of that era, he achieved great and triumphant success in his life thanks to boxing.
It started when one of his brothers persuaded a reluctant Mo to join the famous Repton club, resulting in him representing Great Britain at the 1972 Munich Olympics.
And it was here that the schoolboy first encountered personal racism – if only he knew worse was to come.
Reflecting on that embarrassing experience, Mo – who has now been awarded an MBE for services to boxing – said: “Of course, it’s still sad.
“But eventually I learned how to use that hate to my advantage.
When he turned professional seven years later in 1973, a fiery Mo became British, Commonwealth, European and world light-middleweight champion, making history as the first black British immigrant to win a world title.
The boy who played barefoot in the sugarcane fields on the island of his birth, rose to fame and wealth despite all odds.
Mo moved his wife and children out of Hackney when he bought a £125,000 (£3 million in today’s money) house in Winchmore Hill, a leafy hideaway for wealthy celebrities in north London. Rod Stewart lived nearby.
I was there to write an article for SunSport entitled ‘Didn’t they do well?’ and Mo proudly showed me his huge luxury home, with a three car garage, lovely gardens and open air swimming pool.
Mo never mentioned the fear and hatred he and his family suffered from and I assumed he was enjoying a well-deserved lifestyle.
Only this week, when I read fellow author Ron Shillingford’s inspiring biography – aptly titled Land of Hope and Glory – did I discover the truth.
He said the couple from whom Hope was buying the house said people on the street begged them not to sell it to black people.
Needless to say, when Hopes came here he was ostracized and then began receiving hateful, insulting threatening letters.
“Go back to Africa”, and “Go back to the jungle or we will burn your house down” are some of the threats that came through his letter box.
When Hope informed the police he was advised to install a state-of-the-art security system and his wife Pat was so terrorised that she carried a bleeper around at all times when he was away training.
To ensure his family’s safety, Mo was essentially forced to move out.
It is blood-boiling to know that a humble, kind and generous man such as Hope was treated so despicably.
More than 40 years ago Britain was a different place.
Whenever I wrote something praising a black fighter, I would receive hateful letters – anonymous of course – from National Front supporters.
It is a fair assumption that wherever Anthony Joshua is living today, he has been welcomed with open arms by the local community.
One story about Moe that’s not in the book reveals that he can be a bit cheeky.
He coached the Antigua boxing team at the 1998 Commonwealth Games.
I hadn’t seen him for a number of years, so I sent him a message in the Athletes Village and invited him to lunch at my hotel.
He arrived with his usual big smile on his face, along with three hungry members of his team who didn’t need to gain weight.
Read more at The Scottish Sun
This turned out to be a very expensive reunion and when I showed the bill to our sports editor he wasn’t too happy!
The book Land of Hope and Glory, written by Maurice Hope and Ron Shillingford, is published by Pitch Publishing and is priced £25.
