Michael Watson’s next miracle? Walking a mile with the doctor who saved his life
In late 2002, Michael Watson was told that the London Marathon was a fight too far even for him.
He was told that people hit the wall at 20 miles and that he would hit the wall after 100 metres. He never listened to the advice from Peter Hamlyn, the neurosurgeon who saved his life. Watson never listens to people telling him “no”.
“I told Peter that the hardest part would be the victory celebration at the end,” Watson told me. He was not joking.
Watson did complete the 2003 London Marathon, finishing in six days, two hours, 27 minutes and 17 seconds, adding the iconic race to his list of outrageous achievements. It’s a list that includes somehow surviving the night of 21 September 1991, when he was rushed from the ring unconscious after his catastrophic rematch against Chris Eubank. The survival all those years ago was a team effort: Watson and Hamlyn, the miracle team.
Well, they are back together and both are walking a mile this Wednesday (16 April) to raise money and awareness for the Brain & Spine Foundation. Watson is now 60, an impossible age for a man with his chances all those long and lonely midnights ago. Hamlyn is the man in charge of fantasies; together, they are a rare double act.
In 1991, Watson collapsed after his world title rematch with Eubank had been stopped in the 12th and final round. The time was 10.54pm at White Hart Lane, but Watson’s life was now operating outside normal measures of time. He was in the “golden hour”, the 60 minutes of hope that exists for people with head trauma.
Watson, who was 27 at the time, was first rushed to the wrong hospital and then, at 11.55pm – outside the golden hour – he was transferred to St Bartholomew’s. He was in another brutal race and so was Hamlyn, who had been alerted about the stricken boxer and was making his way from home to the hospital and his team in the operating room. His journey on that night was truly amazing.
Hamlyn had twice previously operated on and saved boxers on his table in that blue-lit operating theatre. He was the best man for the job but the clock was ticking. Hamlyn arrived at Bart’s to find the front door surrounded by media. The fight was massive, front and back page with relentless coverage of the bad blood. I was inside on the night, in a room praying with Michael’s mother and his trainer, Jimmy Tibbs. It is a lost weekend, a visit to the twilight zone of life.
Hamlyn directed the taxi to the side of the Victorian hospital, searching for an open door, a glimpse of hope. He stopped, got out and looked through a locked door and this is where this story gets strange. Very strange.
It was about 12.30am, Watson was already inside the building – Hamlyn was outside in the dark, separated from the boxer. Watson told me he truly believes he died in the back of the ambulance; he was certainly edging closer to death upstairs, with his salvation stranded outside in the dark.
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Hamlyn peered through the window of a locked door. Perhaps sensing movement, he lingered, and then the door opened. It was the famous Bag Lady of Bart’s, a woman who lived like a ghost inside the ancient building and was fed tea and biscuits by the nurses.
She opened the door and stood back as Hamlyn charged up the stairs to join his colleagues. It was just before 1am when Watson, silent and still and close to death, was wheeled in for surgery. Hamlyn performed his miracle and added Watson to his record of three wins from three with boxers; it is a boxing record that nobody wants.
It was also the start of the long, long comeback. Watson’s relentless faith and struggle to survive against ridiculous odds can be experienced in his book, Michael Watson’s Story: The Biggest Fight. Looking at it again, two decades after it was written, is still inspiring.
Hamlyn and Watson have been close ever since their first meeting that bloody night at Bart’s. On Wednesday, they walk again, the miracle men, and you can join them.
Walk a Mile with Michael on Wednesday 16 April, from 1pm – Wellington Arch to Horse Guards Parade
