There are images that transcend time. Freddie Roach, leaning in the corner, his clinical eye scanning every detail. Angelo Dundee, able to change the course of a fight with just one word between rounds. Cus D’Amato, seeing greatness in the eyes of a teenager. Eddie Futch, a strategist with ice-cold composure. Nacho Beristain, sculpting technical finesse like a craftsman. Emanuel Steward, builder of a dynasty in Detroit.
And here, in Quebec, we can’t forget Stéphane Larouche, Marc Ramsay, Mike Moffa, Ave Pervin, Danielle Bouchard, Dave Hilton Sr., Roger Larivée, to name just a few… career and destiny builders. These names are more than memories. They’re beacons. They remind us that while the coaching profession evolves with time, it’s still built on the same foundations.
Photo: Vincent Ethier – Marc Ramsay
Old School vs. New School
“Old school” coaches meant sweat and iron discipline. Never-ending days, gyms where dust mixed with chalk, and one unbreakable rule: the coach is always right. No questions, no excuses.
“New school” coaches speak in charts and data. They dissect training loads, fine-tune periodization cycles, optimize recovery. They rely on science, on studies, on detailed performance analysis.
Photo: Los Angeles Times – Freddie Roach
But the truth? The two worlds meet. You can measure every heartbeat, but a champion is not born from an Excel spreadsheet. A champion is forged in the suffocating heat of the gym, in the pain of hard rounds, in the metallic taste of blood and fatigue. Science sharpens. But the inner fire builds.
Coach: A Calling
Being a coach isn’t just about guiding a career. It’s reading in a boxer’s eyes what they’ll never say out loud. It’s understanding their silences, absorbing their anger, channeling their doubts. It’s preparing every session like an architect, dissecting every movement like an analyst, finding the right words like a confidant. It’s living in the shadows, with the certainty that without that shadow, the boxer’s light would never shine quite the same. And sometimes, it’s about protection. Not just from the opponent — but from themselves.
Photo: Vincent Ethier – Mike Moffa
Being a coach is counting sacrifices more than hours. It’s watching the athlete grow, as much as the human being. And above all, it’s carrying that burning desire: to see their boxer succeed, to elevate them — but also, when needed, to keep them from burning out too fast.
Between Reality and Illusion
But in our time, there’s also the illusion of social media. We see charismatic coaches, brilliant on camera, able to charm an audience with creativity or teaching flair. Some are truly excellent, bringing new ideas and a modern approach.
But others are mere illusionists — better at catching attention than building a fighter. Flamboyance can be mistaken for greatness, but at the end of the day, what matters are the results. In the ring, there are no filters, no edits, no likes. Only the raw truth of the fight.
Photo: La Presse – Kim Clavel and Danielle Bouchard
The Guiding Star
In 2025, the danger is distraction.
Social media passes judgment on a fighter before their glove has even touched a target. Trends emerge, shine, then disappear like sparks. Information travels faster than punches.
The coach must be the keeper of direction. The one who, in the midst of the noise, keeps their eyes fixed on what matters: Shaping men and women capable of giving their best fight — not just between the ropes, but in life as a whole.
Because deep down, the job has never changed. A coach prepares someone to fight. But sometimes — and this is where the role finds its true meaning — they prepare them not to fight…
