It’s just over a year now since Bernard Dunne hung up his gloves, after an unforgettable career marked by a lot of triumph and just a little heartbreak. The Neilstown bruiser fought what turned out to be his last fight at the age of 29, and when the end came, it was swift and brutal: a ferocious Thai killing machine boasting the compact name Poonsawat Kratingdaenggym (literal translation: Full To The Brim With Prosperity And Red Bull) brought the curtain down on Dunne’s career, flooring him three times before the third round was out.

Five months later, a fortnight after turning 30, Dunne made the decision to quit, briefly provoking shock and sadness among Irish fight fans, as an unforgettable rollercoaster adventure came to an end. Perhaps selfishly, most of us wanted him to give it one more go. But once we’d digested the decision, we knew deep down he was doing the right thing. In his excellent new autobiography (strikingly insightful, honest and sharply-written by the standard of most sports biogs) Dunne outlines the thought process that led to his retirement:
“(Marvin Hagler) walked away clean - I don’t know why he stopped, but I know the highs of boxing don’t last forever and I wanted out now, as close to the top as I might ever be. I said years before that I would retire when I was 30. Back then I thought 30 was old. I didn’t want to become punchy and as yet I wasn’t feeling any side effects. I have been hurt and not remembered things after a fight but they always came back. From the end of 2006 onwards I’d been experiencing double bouts of vision in the eye. It was a muscle imbalance: I had an operation to fix the problem. I also didn’t want to be the guy who hangs around the gym annoying young fellas with stories of the old days...
“I wasn’t a journeyman. I went out on a world title. The worst thing I could have done is go through the motions. Thankfully, I’ve still got some brain cells in my head... I fulfilled my dream. Winning the European title. Winning the world title in front of my home crowd. That’s what dreams are made of. I regret nothing. I loved my career, loved boxing. It’s been a great trip, but I’d like to think I’m clever enough to say enough is enough.”
Nine months down the line, shooting the breeze with Hot Press on a crisp November morning, Dunne remains completely convinced he’s made the right decision:
“I’m loving retirement, really enjoying it – I’m spending quality time with friends and family, it’s a different way of life. And I get to eat some shite food from time to time – which isn’t my priority in life, but it does make a nice change. I said at the time that the last thing I wanted to do was short-change the punters by going through the motions, and I didn’t want to become one of those 35-year-olds still chasing the dream. I got out while my health wasn’t an issue, and I’m grateful. I haven’t had any second thoughts.
‘I don’t regret it. I miss the sport, and I miss it terribly. I miss the buzz of getting into the ring and having a fight and hearing the crowd’s reaction. But I know I made the right decision. From time to time, it might cross your mind, ‘I’d love to get in the ring one more time’, but not in the sense of ever really thinking about doing it. I haven’t seriously had second thoughts. I definitely don’t regret quitting at all.”
Bernard is currently enjoying media work as a fight analyst for RTÉ: “I love doing it, really love it. It’s great fun, and it’s a hell of a lot easier sitting there watching and talking than being inside the ring getting punched in the face. I’d say I’ll be doing it for quite a while, it’s great crack.”
While working as a pundit is keeping him involved, he hasn’t ruled out the idea of becoming a fight promoter in the future.
“It’s a thought,” he states. “It’s an option, it’s a road I could go down. It’s something I’ve thought of – the game has given me so much that I’d like to give something back and be able to help other guys who get involved in the sport. When the time comes, when it feels right to jump back in, and I’m ready to do it, I’ll probably want to help out some kids and pass on all the things I’ve learned.”
Looking back, is it the defeats that stand out? Does he ever replay the Martinez and Poonsawat fights in his mind, thinking ‘If I’d done this or done that?’
“I wouldn’t exactly say they haunt me, to be honest,” responds Bernard. “They’re glitches on my record, but that’s about it, and they don’t outweigh the great nights. I’m very proud of what I’ve done, and I’m not in the least bit ashamed about the times I fell short. Kiko was 86 seconds of madness really, and to this day there’s not a whole lot I can take from it or learn from it – it was like being struck by lightning. And Poonsawat executed his plan perfectly, he was just a better fighter than me – on the night, anyway – and I have no arguments whatsoever. When you realise you’re beaten by better men, like, that makes it a bit easier to live with. You’ve got to face sport that way. Somebody wins and somebody loses. I had 30 fights as a pro and I won 28 of them. If you let yourself dwell on the defeats all the time, you’d drive yourself mad and you’d be out of the game a lot quicker.”
Still young (I used to think 30 was old too), and with a whole life ahead of him outside the ring, Bernard hasn’t let himself go; on the contrary, he is making a point of keeping fit.
“I ran the Dublin Marathon there two weeks ago!” he explains. “I got round in 3 hours 44 mins, which isn’t too bad for an aul’ fella. It’s a grueller obviously, physically and mentally a hell of a challenge – but a completely different challenge from going one-on-one with someone in the ring. The banter between all the runners is brilliant, and it really helps get you through – you’re never alone out there. And even all the people clapping at the side of the road, that’s fantastic. Now I suppose most people recognised me anyway, but it was still amazing. I used to sit and think, ‘Why on Earth would you want to do that, in the fuckin’ cold and the rain?’ But now I see exactly why people do it. The strength you get from everyone around you is unbelievable.
“I have to say I was asking myself once or twice while I was running it: ‘have I got a screw loose, why are you doing this?’ I actually got conned into it (laughs). A friend of mine talked me into helping him train for the marathon, and he basically managed to talk me into running the bleedin’ thing, and I sort of told everyone I’d be running the marathon because then it becomes a point of honour, there was no backing out for me by that stage. And I’d definitely run it again.”
The David Haye-Audley Harrison showdown, scheduled to take place three days after Bernard’s chinwag with HP, hasn’t quite set the public’s imagination on fire, and Dunne shares the general apathy. “To be honest, like a lot of boxing fans, I don’t have that much interest in the heavyweights,” he says. “The heavyweights have gone backwards, for at least a decade now, and it’s the lightweight divisions that are more exciting these days, by a mile. I’ll definitely watch it though, if not live then definitely the next day. I still have a very keen interest in boxing, and I still watch an awful lot of it.”
There are quite a few decent Irish boxing prospects at the minute: “Well, there are. I wouldn’t single anyone out. I’m not trying to be diplomatic, what I mean is there isn’t any particular one that stands out above the others. There’s a couple of great talents coming through. Andy Lee and Matthew Macklin come to mind, they can go as far as they want. People tend to forget Andy Lee is still very much a young man: he’s 25 or 26 and at that weight division that’s pretty young. He’s got loads of time to develop, and I think technically he’s one of the most gifted fighters to come out of this country in a long time. I know them all fairly well, especially with working in TV and commenting on the fights, and I’m there if they need to pick up the phone, but they all know exactly what they’re doing.”
And finally, Dunne remains intensely proud of the greatest night, his gripping 11th-round win over Ricardo Cordoba to claim the world title in March 2009, on a Perfect Day which just a few hours previously had also witnessed the Irish rugby team win their first Grand Slam in 61 years. Two epic victories, both of them so impossibly dramatic they resembled a film script.
“I watched the match that day,” he recalls. “Sat down in my hotel and watched the whole thing. And I love hearing about what a great day it was for so many of yous, on both fronts – it was incredible to be a part of that and come out on the winning side. To be a big player in all of that – that’s pretty fuckin’ amazing, and it’s something I’ll always have.”

My Story is out now on Penguin.