Inside Chris Eubank Jr’s camp: Star hits out at ‘cheats’, reveals the secret weapon he’s using for the first time and what he’ll do if famous father turns up to Conor Benn grudge match

In a tucked-away gym in Vauxhall, South London, Chris Eubank Jr is deep into camp ahead of his long-delayed grudge match with Conor Benn. It’s a far cry from the bright lights of Vegas or the coastal calm of Brighton — the city where his father, Chris Eubank Sr, still lives.

In this stripped-back setting, Eubank’s values rise to the surface. To him, boxing has lost its moral compass. If every fighter who ever cheated was banned, he says, half the sport would disappear.

‘If I implemented the law I want, 50 per cent of the industry would disappear. As disgusting as that is to say, that’s what I probably believe’, Eubank told Mail Sport. ‘It’s ridiculous, you get caught cheating, with performance-enhancing drugs in your system, you pay a fine, take a little ban, then come back pretending you’re a clean fighter again. That’s boxing. That’s the game.’

Eubank’s black-and-white mentality — the belief that cheating should be met with the harshest possible punishment — traces back to his own upbringing. Actions had consequences. There were no grey areas, no shortcuts, and certainly no second chances. 

‘My dad was extremely strict. I got away with nothing. If I stepped out of line, it was physical punishment. Whether it was a belt or whether it was a cane. That’s how I was disciplined so I know the difference between right and wrong. But, I’m not refusing to cheat because of the fear of punishment. I’m refusing to cheat because it’s not who I am as a human being. 

‘I believe lifetime bans would stop drug cheats in boxing completely. As soon as the first couple guys get lifetime bands, imagine how many people would immediately never take performance enhancing drugs again, ever. 

‘You have to shock these guys and scare these guys into stopping the injections, the pills, the cheating. The only way you can do that is by enforcing overly harsh penalties. And right now, the penalties are not harsh enough.’

And yet, despite that stance, here he is — preparing to face a man who failed two drug tests back in 2022. It’s a contradiction he’s well aware of.

‘I know it doesn’t make sense to most people. They ask, why are you fighting him if you feel like that. But, he’s going to fight anyway. That’s the reality. So if I beat him, I beat a man who had every chance to cheat and still couldn’t win. It shows the difference.’

After being scrapped at the eleventh hour in 2022, this fight now feels inevitable. The posters are up, the buzz is intensifying, and with just a week to go, the showdown at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium is almost here. But for now, the focus is on Eubank’s final preparations.

By late afternoon, Eubank walks into the gym, not out of laziness but because his schedule doesn’t align with the average person’s. ‘He’s a bit nocturnal,’ someone remarks. Dressed in a Louis Vuitton jacket and matching shoes, he moves with the deliberate poise of someone who knows exactly how he wants to be seen.

But, before anything else, he sits. The ritual begins.

Eubank methodically tapes his feet, each move precise, like a surgeon at work. His feet are a mess — dry, cracked skin, pus-filled blisters on his toes, and flaps of skin hanging by a thread. Most wouldn’t walk on feet like this, let alone run. But, for Eubank, it’s just another cost in the pursuit of Conor Benn. 

The gloves come next. He slides his fingers in and then out again, adjusting, twitching, reading the fit like it’s a code to be cracked. Eventually he gives the nod of approval and it’s time for the work to begin. 

He starts to shadowbox — long, controlled movements through air thick with heat. It’s not just warm in him gym — it’s Vegas hot. He likes it that way. He trained there for years and now lives between Dubai and London. He’s clearly a man who prefers his suffering scorched. 

There’s music playing faintly — ignorable. No one yells. No hype. A stark contrast to Benn’s camp, where chants of ‘You’re a monster! You’re a machine’ echo through the gym. 

Eubank’s team? Silent. Because he doesn’t need to be told who he is. His trainer Jonathan Banks murmurs instructions in a low tone. Eubank listens like he’s decoding scripture. He repeats each combination slowly, with the sort of precision that would look like overkill to anyone who’s never tried to be great at anything. Then faster. Then faster. Then perfect. 

Eubank finishes in the middle of the ring. Core circuits. Painful and lonely. But he doesn’t flinch. The pain, the grind, the repetition — it doesn’t reach him the way it would others. Emotion doesn’t live here.

‘I don’t have any emotions,’ he says flatly, like he’s stating a biological fact. ‘I don’t know what that means. I don’t know why, but you know, things don’t upset me, things don’t anger me, things don’t get under my skin like they would your everyday person.’

It’s less bravado and more a quiet detachment — an emotional firewall that Benn has repeatedly failed to breach. For all the talk, the insults, the pokes at his family, his father — Eubank just doesn’t bite.

‘I’m not an emotional man,’ he says. ‘And I’m definitely not emotional when I know somebody may be trying to say things to upset me… because then it’s just not real. And I would never give somebody my energy knowing that that’s their objective.’

That firewall isn’t just mental. It’s physical, too. The same detachment that shields him from Benn’s provocations carries him through the harshest part of camp — the weight cut. At 160lbs, he’s back in more familiar territory than the original 157lbs catchweight, but it’s not easy. Not at 34. Not with a rehydration cap that limits how much he can put back on after the weigh-in.

‘It’s never easy cutting weight. When you’ve got that last pound and a half to go and you’re dying of thirst, depletion and hunger you start thinking I don’t want to be doing this. I don’t want to be here. This is horrible. But, that doesn’t mean I am going to quit. That doesn’t mean I am going to stop. I am a soldier. I am a warrior. I signed up for going through hell. That’s what you have to do as a fighter. Over the years your mind learns to absorb the pain, tolerate it, accept it, and you just push through.’

But even warriors need coping mechanisms.

For Eubank, it’s binge watching cooking shows — while chewing on carrots.

‘That happens kind of towards the last week,’ he laughs. ‘When you’re really coming down on the foods, you’re really strict with what you can’t eat. I don’t know why, but me watching these food shows helps. Like Man v. Food — which is like an old school food program where this dude goes around just annihilating crazy amounts of food all over the States, like the dirtiest, greasiest, most amazing-looking food that I could never have right now. ‘

It’s self-inflicted torture — and yet, a strange kind of pleasure.

‘I don’t know why, but when I’m watching that, it just makes the food I am eating taste better somehow. I don’t know why or how. For some people, that would be torture. For me, it’s actually a way to enjoy the crappy meals that I’m eating while I’m watching it during the cutting week.’

This camp, though, has seen a shift. For the first time in his career, Eubank has a nutritionist.

‘I’ve never felt like I needed a nutritionist before. I’ve never missed weight before,’ he says. ‘But I’m following a plan now. Usually I just trust my own instincts and my own knowledge. But, I have made a change for this camp.’

Why now? He won’t say. ‘I can’t tell you that.’

If there’s a crack in the armour, it’s his father.

Chris Eubank Sr is unlikely to be at the fight. Not because of a rift — though they aren’t speaking — but because of grief. After the death of Junior’s brother, Sebastian, the elder Eubank doesn’t want to risk losing another son to this sport.

‘Of course he’s scared of losing another son,’ Junior says. ‘But this is my life. I can’t stop my dreams because he’s worried about what will happen to me. I understand it. But I can’t stop what I am destined to do.’

What if his father did show up? What would Eubank want to hear from him?

There’s a long pause.

‘That is a good question. I guess, nothing. He doesn’t need to say anything. He just needs to be there for me. That’s what would make me happy. It’s not about words. It’s about presence. It’s about showing up for me.’

And if he doesn’t come? Will that be the final straw for Junior – who has called for his father to be in his corner since this fight was announced.

‘I don’t know. It’s not about me. The ball is in his court. I’ll do what I have to do on fight night [even if he doesn’t show up]. But I think it’ll be a huge shame. It will be something he’ll regret in years to come.’

By now, you start to see it. The silence isn’t emptiness. It’s resolve. The obsession with foot taping, glove fitting, blister plasters — it’s not vanity, it’s prep for battle. The food shows, the poker, the heat — it’s all part of the strange, lonely ecosystem that sustains him. Chris Eubank Jr isn’t just preparing for a fight. He’s perfecting a world in which no detail betrays him.

And if he walks through the fire and wins — clean — in a sport he believes is half poison, he’ll do so not with a roar but with that same eerie quietness. No celebration. No outburst.

Just the slow, surgical certainty of a man who told you exactly what he was going to do.

And then did it.

The Ring Magazine’s first-ever boxing card on Saturday, April 26, titled ‘FATAL FURY: City of the Wolves, headlined by Chris Eubank Jr vs Conor Benn, is live worldwide on DAZN. Buy the PPV at: www.dazn.com/boxing