Behind the scenes: Day 1

To say the atmosphere was tense during my first day of filming for our documentary Bad Boy Boxer:The Last Chance is an understatement. It was the 11th October 2014 at the O2 Arena, London and everything was on the line. Lee Selby was about to have the biggest fight of his life.

A win would mean that Lee’s next fight would be a shot at becoming the IBF Featherweight World Champion. Lose and he may never get the chance to challenge for a World Title.

It wasn’t only Lee that had a lot riding on that day though. As a production we had just been given the go ahead by the BBC Three commissioners. The brief was to go behind-the-scenes and follow Lee on his road to a World Title – but that road would be very short if Lee didn’t win that night.

It didn’t start well. I’d never been to boxing match before, let alone filmed one. I was under the impression that we’d have unlimited access to Lee during the fight night and would even be allowed ringside. However a quick dose of reality came when I was told by a man with a clipboard and a headset that we were only allowed to film backstage. So it's true what they say - boxing is a tough sport.

Without wishing to be denied any further access I said “thank you” and proceeded to Lee’s dressing room. It was deathly quiet. This was going to be challenging first chapter to our documentary – a scene in which the main character doesn’t say a word.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask – including the predictable and simple “how are you feeling Lee?” However, I didn’t want to push my luck and jeopardise our relationship with Lee, our access to the team or break Lee’s concentration before stepping into the ring.

As a team we held our nerve, whispering to each other and asking the odd question to Lee’s entourage – who were themselves mainly silent. The odd words of advice were offered to Lee by his team, along with the occasional attempt to lighten the mood, “I won’t make you rich, but I will make you famous”, was uttered by one.

Speaking may have been largely off limits but I had to capture the tension and atmosphere in some way and if this wasn’t going to be with words I’d have to do it with pictures. I gradually worked my way closer and closer to Lee, starting with wide shots of him at the far end of the dressing room before gradually edging in for the close-ups. His hands and his eyes offered a glimpse into what he was thinking.

The tension built as the minutes and hours ticked past. To protect Lee’s hands his manager, Chris Sanigar, wrapped them with the care and precision of a man that had done this many times before. I tried to film it with a similar attention to detail, with big close-ups of each piece of taping being cut and each strap being wrapped. Lee though remained silent – only the occasional deep exhale and inhale showed his emotions.

With less than an hour to go Lee changed from his tracksuit into his boxing attire. Clad in white and gold he pulled on his gloves which were then laced and taped with the same meticulous attention to detail. Only occasionally was the atmosphere in the dressing room broken when one of the event staff came in to check on Lee’s progress or another camera crew would rush in to film a few shots of Lee.

The tension was now almost unbearable yet still Lee remained silent – throwing the last few punches at the pads of his trainer. This was the first time I’d seen Lee throw a punch up-close – the noise of leather-on-leather reverberated around the room. The power and speed with which Lee hit the pads was extraordinary.

Then something surprising happened, Chris Sanigar called the whole room into a circle and began to pray…

“The Lord is my shepherd… He makes me lie down in green pastures… He guides me in the paths of righteousness... Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil… Dear Lord, we ask you to send down a spirit of skill, courage and determination that we’ve not seen in Lee before, I ask you to keep both boxers safe. Amen.”

The time had come for Lee to make his way to the ring. He pulled a golden hood over his head, covering his eyes, his head hanging low and then left the room with the team, and us, trailing behind him.

As we walked through the dark corridors backstage Welsh flags waved to either side of Lee and the roar of the crowd could be heard in the distance – but still Lee didn’t utter a word. I followed hot on his heels, with the golden “SELBY” embroidered on the back of his jacket occasionally catching the light in the viewfinder of my camera.

Then his entrance music kicked in – the slow build of Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous – Lee’s chosen tune. This was as far as we could go – Lee took a step forward – we stayed behind. This was it – the next time we saw Lee he’d be one step closer to his dream of becoming the champ or he’d return to the dressing room bruised, battered and defeated.

All we could do is wait.