Richard Clement is one forgotten boxing hero who gave his all to Pakistan, but recieved very little for his services
BOXING is one of the very few sports in Pakistan that has consistently produced results. However, Pakistani boxers have never been officially pampered like their counterparts, say in hand or cricket. Our pugilists have always fought against all odds. But despite lack of necessary equipment and training facilities, they have fought their way to the top even when the going got tough.
Pakistani boxers have proved their worth time and again by winning various prestigious international events, Asian Games, Commonwealth Games and Olympics alike. Yet they always found themselves short-changed when it came to recognition, official support and financial rewards. In fact, it was only after the Busan Asian Games that Pakistan Sports Board announced a ten million rupees annual grant for boxing, till 2004 Olympics. But this announcement came a little to late for those boxing heroes of yesteryear, who had paved the way for other young men to continue what they had started decades ago.
These men, who once danced in the boxing rings around the world, are now counting their days in obscurity. Such is the tale of a man, who has ducked, dodged and fought opponents in the ring and life off the ring. His name is Richard Clement.
Born to Walter and Cynthia Clement, Richard started his boxing career at the tender age of eight when he first boxed in 1958, at Railways Griffin Institute, Lahore — a bastion for the young athletes. The tournament entitled as Griffin Institute Boxing Championship was held every year to assist Punjab Red Cross in raising funds. Richard’s father, Walter was his coach. Walter, a boxer himself, had represented his respective division in Indian Railways’ Inter-Divisional Boxing Championships. He never made it beyond that and wanted his eldest son to achieve what he had failed to.
Richard was determined to make his father proud. In the process he won eight championships in a row at Griffin Institute. He was the undefeated champion from 1958 to 1966.
A good diet and good coaching paid dividends. Richard excelled in every sport that he participated while attending Don Bosco High School — an institution with rich history of producing great sportsmen for the country — Richard being one of them. From Don Bosco, Richard moved on to Forman Christian College, fondly known as FC College, another great patron of the sport of boxing.
Richard’s boxing career took off while attending FC College, but his association with scholarship ended there. He would remain a matriculate for the rest of his life; a predicament faced by a number of athletes who choose to be Kharab as per the famous Urdu saying of Parho gaye likho gaye banoo gaye nawab, khelo gaye kuddo gaye ho gaye kharab. Richard chose the latter, a decision he today regrets. He won title for his college, his Board, and the province. And as luck would have it, he was picked up by Pakistan Railways — a true patron of sports in Pakistan, parallelled only by Pakistan Army and Wapda of the late.
Richard was elated. It was a chance for him to spend the rest of his life in familiar surroundings. Employment with Railways would bring shelter, food and security in his life. Pakistan Railways, a great nursery for grooming young talent is hardly known for its patronage of its star-performers. On the contrary, Railways Sports Board was an institution that nurtured nepotism, favouritism and non-professionalism.
He stuck with Railways, never cared for the stipend that he got as a boxer, nor did he question the babu when signing his pay slip. He was happy to be offered free milk, twice a day, at Hafiz Milk Shop, a few minutes walk from Railway Stadium, Lahore, and sardai after the evening work out. Akram Khan, his coach, he fondly remembers, used to make him sweat hard to earn that sardai.
Under the tutelage of a homegrown coach, Akram Khan, Richard went on to win a bronze medal in the 6th Asian Games and a silver medal in Asian Boxing Championship held in Tehran. He represented Pakistan in the Munich Olympics, but only managed to fetch a certificate of participation. In domestic circuit, however, he remained at the top for another six years. In 1979, Richard decided to take on the responsibility of the breadwinner for his family of eight: five school going sisters and a brother and his infirm parents. He married Barbara, a Gospel singer, with a melodious voice and a sweet temperament. Together they raised Richard’s brother and sisters.
Their faces light up when the Clements while talking about his sisters and how they managed to marry them one after another. For years Richard, a grade-9 employee in Pakistan Railways, held two jobs at a time to make both ends meet. He had to quit his other job as a PT instructor after the Army takeover, three years ago. He did not want to loose his pension and his house.
“It is difficult to manage at what I am being paid at Railways”, says Richard. “I learnt the lesson from my father’s mistake and kept my family small, with two sons and a daughter. Still it is very difficult”, Richard confided.
The stress and strain of providing for such a large family took its toll on Richard’s health and he had a heart attack a few years back. “It was the first time that I realized that all those medals and all these certificates don’t mean anything unless you have money in your pocket,” he said with a wry smile.
“I was told that due to my grade I was not eligible to receive certain medication free of charge, only grade 17 and above were entitled to those medicines. You make sure you write that down in your article,” instructed Richard.
I met Richard after a very long time — twenty-nine years to be exact. He was not the Richard I had met in the seventies; what I saw was a beleaguered yet a very content man. His only worry is to find a suitable husband for his only daughter. I could see a certain glow on his otherwise lifeless face when he talks about his daughter.
“She is going to finish her BA in a year’s time, and then she will be married”, stated a proud father. “I take care of her, because girls need all the pampering that the fathers can afford, you never know what kind of man her husband turns out to be,” worries Richard.
“Regrets?” I asked. “None, except that I should have finished my college and not end up as a Welfare Assistant,” Richard admitted.
“Best boxer in your opinion?” I asked him. He replied without hesitation: “Samad Mir. He was the most technically correct boxer of our times and lucky as well”, he added. “He would miss training sessions for days in a row while playing for Railways, yet Akram Khan, our coach, never reprimanded him. He was good and he proved it as well.
“Today’s boxers are financially very well off compared to us”, Richard quickly added, “We were content to get free milk and fruits and the occasional ten rupee note, a good boxer today can make up to ten thousand rupees by choosing a side to play for”.
“Were you treated well by our sports managers?” I asked the final question as he had already gestured that he needed to lie down. “Take a look around you son, and you will have your answer,” he smiled and exited the room. Barbara Clement wiped the corners of her eyes as we shared the samosas and tea.
Richard Clement is one forgotten boxing hero who gave his all to Pakistan, but recieved very little for his services 
