Access all areas: Inside Paul Gallen’s dressing room on fight night

David Riccio details the wave of emotions a gutsy Paul Gallen rides against Justis Huni as he goes behind the scenes on their fight night.

Behind the scenes of Paul Gallen's fight night

Paul Gallen’s face is flaring red. His left eye has begun to close over. His busted rib is protruding into his abdomen.

His doctor, Alan Saunders, whispers something into his ear. Gallen responds to his questions with unnerving grunts and moans.

Gallen’s dressing room on the bottom floor of the ICC Theatre in Sydney is otherwise quiet.

The room has temporarily transformed into a triage – no longer the place where two hours ago, Gallen had chewed on orange lolly snakes.

The respectful silence from Gallen’s loyal corner of family and friends is broken only by the softly spoken words from Saunders and the excruciating pain leaving the almost 40-year-old’s body.

Gallen is standing as Saunders assesses the footballer-turned-boxer for injury and concussion.

Gallen is surrounded by at least six comfortable chairs, but finds it too painful to sit with a twisted rib stabbing at every breath since copping a bout-defining body shot against Justis Huni.

“Gal, is there anything I can do for you? Do you need some strong painkillers, some medication to help with the pain?’’ Saunders asks, with a comforting hand on Gallen’s shoulder.

“I’ll just have a Panadol,’’ he replies.

Doctor Alan Saunders attends to Paul Gallen after his fight with Justis Huni.

In almost disbelief, Saunders raises his right eyebrow before turning on his heels to leave the room. The clock on the wall says 10.45pm and it’s just gone 28 minutes since Gallen was stopped agonisingly short of the full 10 rounds last Wednesday night by Huni, Australian boxing’s next big thing.

In the hours and days after the fight, fans will comment on radio and across social media about the frightening hand speed of Huni and the unfathomable bravery of Gallen.

A touch under 1000 pubs and clubs across Australia aired the fight on Foxtel’s Main Event. People stood shaking their head at the exciting prospect of Huni and Gallen’s courage to withstand such brutality from the country’s best heavyweight fighter.

And yet: “I’ll just have a Panadol.’’

Justis Huni is embraced by Paul Gallen after their fight. Picture: Cameron Spencer/Getty Images

TWO HOURS TO GO: THE COUNTDOWN BEGINS

Two hours out and there is a nervous energy as Gallen prepares for his toughest fight. He starts by spending 25 minutes stretching and contorting his body.

On his headphones, Gallen listens to a playlist of three songs made by his 10-year-old son Kody: Mood by American rapper 24kGoldn and Hooligan Hefs’ Send It and Tell Em I’m Doing Eetswa.

A text message received earlier on Wednesday morning from legendary boxing trainer Johnny Lewis has burrowed deep into Gallen’s mind.

“You have proven to be a great asset to our sport, you have gained respect through your fitness level, sacrifices and continued improvement … look in the mirror Paul, I think you will see the winner,’’ Lewis wrote.

Gallen’s countdown to his fight with Huni is meticulous and analysed to the minute by Team Gallen.

Sticking to the winning formula of his previous 12 bouts, Gallen drives himself to the Darling Harbour arena, picking up friend and cornerman Caine Janakievski on the way.

He is met inside the rooms by his trainer Graham Shaw, adviser Peter Mitrevski, cutman Brian Wilmott and his two best mates since they were kids, Scott Hogan and Brett Sargent.

The two hours are needed by Gallen to mentally and physically prepare his body for punishment.

Fight fans would perceive a boxer’s dressing room to be full of aggression and hostility. Loud music. Amped up. Psyched up. F-this. F-that.

It’s the opposite. Gallen is largely left alone for the first hour. Shaw breaks the room by telling a few jokes and Mitrevski tries to breakdance to the music seeping out of Gallen’s headphones.

Paul Gallen prepares for his fight with Justis Huni.

ONE HOUR TO GO: GETTING READY TO RUMBLE

If Gallen wants to talk, his crew will talk to him. But otherwise, there is a distance and long pauses of silence.

At 8.47pm, still an hour before he will be called to enter the ring, Gallen removes his headphones and says: “Ready Brian?’’

“Let’s go,’’ Wilmot answers.

It takes almost 45 minutes for Wilmot to wrap Gallen’s hands with gauze and bandages that will protect him beneath his gloves.

Referee John Cauchi visits Gallen’s inner sanctum to outline his expectations of both fighters.

Gallen, believing Huni’s tactics will attempt to hold him from throwing punches, asks Cauchi: “As long as I’ve got one arm free, I’m going to keep punching.”

Paul Gallen gets his hands wrapped by cutman Brian Willmot.

Hogan and Sargent are there to help Gallen with anything he needs.

Gallen eats a banana with drizzled honey before every fight.

But with his boxing gloves on, Gallen needs Hogan to peel the banana, drip the honey and feed him.

It seems like a zookeeper feeding the lion.

Gallen has become noticeably short with his words – there’s a shift in focus and agitation in the room.

A knock on the door signals Gallen has six minutes to go before he makes his way to the ring.

After his short six-week training preparation, the final piece of work he conducts is three sets of pad work with Shaw across the floor of the dressing room.

It is sharp sets and Shaw likes what he sees.

“You’re ready,’’ Shaw says.

Paul Gallen warms-up with trainer Graeme Shaw.

THE WALK OUT, IT’S FIGHT TIME

Gallen leaves the dressing room with confidence. He will return with his heart broken.

The 22-year-old Huni launches into Gallen from the opening round.

The young bull’s intentions are deadly and unbeknown to everyone watching, Gallen’s night would be over long before the final round 10.

Within the space of the next three minutes, early in round two, Gallen’s left jab was rendered useless.

“Keep coming forward, keep coming forward,’’ Mitrevski screamed at Gallen from his corner.

The reality was, Gallen simply couldn’t – unable to action a pop or jab of his left hand due to the feeling his ribs were being “stabbed with a knife”.

“It is the worst pain I have ever been in throughout my entire football and boxing career,’’ Gallen said back inside the rooms.

“(Huni) wouldn’t have known, but he just kept hitting it (ribs). And when I went forward on him, he would hit my arm and that would absolutely kill.

“I couldn’t punch at all with my left. I just had nothing from that point in round two. It (ribs) was constantly cracking and grinding.’’

After every round, Shaw asked Gallen if he was OK.

“I was OK, I’m just so dirty that the ref stopped the fight,’’ he said.

“I know I was only surviving, he was too good, but I wanted to see out the 10 rounds and I’m not happy I wasn’t able to do that.’’

Paul Gallen was disappointed the ref stopped the fight. Picture: Cameron Spencer/Getty Images

DEALING WITH THE PAIN OF DEFEAT

It is nearly midnight on Wednesday when, after visiting Huni’s dressing room to offer his congratulations and best wishes for the upcoming Tokyo Olympics, Gallen takes a seat, wearing only his NSW State of Origin towel.

Gallen’s wife Anne has been sitting in the corner of the room since the end of the fight. Nobody knows Gallen’s spirit better. She is proud and relieved, but stops short of demanding her husband call full-time on boxing.

Such is the pain he is in, Gallen is physically unable to put his shoes or socks on, so Anne bends down to help her high school sweetheart and husband complete the simplest of tasks.

It is one of the most remarkable images of Gallen’s entire sporting career; a graphic insight into what the fans don’t see.

No image has better underlined the torturous pressure and pain Gallen has put his body through to become what former NRL and Queensland champion Martin Lang has called “one of Australia’s greatest athletes”.

As The Sunday Telegraph leaves Gallen’s dressing room, Shaw is waiting with Wilmot outside.

Shaw has been training boxers, including Daniel Geale to become a world champion, for more than 30 years. “How many people can say they truly feel privileged to work with someone,’’ Shaw says.

“I can say that.”