Inside Conor Benn's camp: What made him 'cry like a baby' and why he's 'misunderstood' but 'doesn't give a s***' laid bare in candid interview before Chris Eubank Jr battle

Welcome to Palma, where Conor Benn is deep in training for the biggest fight of his life — a collision with Chris Eubank Jr. soaked in legacy, tension, and bloodline history. April 26 is marked in bold. The old names are back on the marquee, but it's the sons now stepping into the spotlight.

We pulled up to the Mega Sports Centre— a sprawling 27,000m² fortress of elite sport carved into the Mallorca coast. It felt more luxury retreat than boxing bunker: eight padel courts, outdoor weights section, a running track lined with palm trees, and an on-site spa with a resident DJ.

Conor arrived, strolling around with authority – designer sunglasses, diamond chain swinging on his chest, and a skin-tight white tank top that left no doubt about the hours he's been putting in. Under his arm: a designer man-bag, worn like a casual flex.

He looked like a man on holiday, but spoke like someone in the thick of war. He explained how most days start in darkness. He's on the street at 5am before the city wakes, running ten kilometres or sprinting the steep stone steps in town — a ritual that sets the tone before his boxing session at noon.

'It's brutal, but I love it. I live for this,' he told Mail Sport. 'It's just who I am. It's what I do. I want to make every session as hard as I possibly can — whether that's my runs, whether that's hitting 10 kilometres before people even get out of bed. I feel like, without even realising it, that mindset was in me from young. My dad, having come from an army background instilled his work ethic in me, his grit, his will to win.'

After soaking up the sun and chatting over coffee, we followed Conor into the boxing gym — a stark contrast to the warmth outside. Inside, it was dim and quiet, the air thick with sweat and leather, while Manny Pacquiao's old fights flickered overhead.

Conor's team stood huddled by the ring in all black. At first, it felt like stepping into a closed circle — intimidating, tight-knit, the kind of crew that clocks you before deciding if you belong.

But once they realised we weren't outsiders, the mood shifted — warm handshakes, total acceptance, and a genuine glimpse into the trust, respect and camaraderie that binds them.

As Conor sat getting his hands wrapped, talk turned to the session ahead — and to his dad Nigel, who'd been training too. 'He's a savage in the gym,' Conor said, loud enough for Nigel to catch earshot.

Nigel, pretending to take offence, shot back — claiming Conor's twin sister, India - who had taken leave from her job in Australia to be in camp - was his favourite child.

What followed was pure comedy: Nigel stirring the pot, Conor refusing to back down, and India jumping in with perfect timing to stake her claim.

Nigel may joke about India being the favourite, but there's no mistaking the connection between him and Conor — a synergy built in blood and boxing. 'He's a carbon copy of me but better', Nigel explained.

'I was just a fighter but he's got skills in abundance. He's got literally everything in his toolbox, upper cut, hook, jab, powerful right hand. He's got all the punches. He's got literally everything. And he's got the mind, the brain. He's able to think his way through situations and set things up well. I just wanted to go in there and have a fight.'

That didn't stop Nigel from putting his son in his place early on. 'I decided to have a little spar with Conor when he was younger. I told him he was snoozing on his jab. He told me that made him want to bring his right hand in. I thought, what a cheeky little sod. So, he threw his jab and I went bang — cracked one right across his face. I chipped his tooth and blood went everywhere. I said, that's what you get for coming with an attitude.'

But behind the scenes, it hasn't all been light-hearted jabs and father-son bravado. The Benn name has carried a weight in recent years that no amount of legacy could shield them from.

In 2022, Conor failed two VADA drugs tests ahead of the original date for the Eubank fight.

He tested positive for clomifene — a banned substance — and though he has since been cleared, the damage to his mental health and family life ran deep.

At his lowest, he found himself in a place no one ever wants to reach. He's spoken about driving to the very spot where he planned to end his life — standing on the edge of something irreversible — before somehow, mercifully, pulling back.

'There were days I'd show up to the gym and just cry. I'd be sobbing in the car on the way there, thinking, how am I supposed to live like this? I didn't want to be here — that's the sad truth. I was shattered into a million pieces, half the man — no, a quarter of the man — you see today. I couldn't cope. I couldn't face reality. I was in self-destruct mode.'

In time, though, Conor learned to shut out the noise. The scrutiny, the opinions — they stopped mattering. He made peace with being judged, choosing instead to live on his own terms.

'I'm very misunderstood, but also don't give a s***, you know. So for me, it's just like I am what I am. Imagine living in a world where you can't be you in fear of somebody not liking you, I'd hate to live in that world.'

Nevertheless, the pressure of the positive tests didn't just fall on his shoulders. His father, Nigel, was battling demons of his own. As Conor fell apart, so did the man who had spent years building him up.

'Me and my dad were going through it together,' Conor says quietly.

'But in truth, he couldn't support me. I couldn't support him. He was broken. Every day we would just walk in the door and just sob. I would cry like a baby on his shoulder. A grown man, crying on his father's shoulder. We looked like two little kids, just sobbing uncontrollably together. While I was crying on his shoulder I just kept saying I am so sorry Dad this is happening.'

Nigel, meanwhile, was grappling with his own internal struggle — one that involved slipping into depression and, at times, leaning on alcohol to dull the pain.

'I've never seen my dad in such a bad way,' Conor admits. 'It took a real toll on him. On all of us. Tony, Eddie — everyone around me caught the heat. It hit all of us hard.'

But all of that — the pain, the chaos, the almosts — has hardened into something else now: fuel. Motivation for this camp. For this fight. For finally putting it all behind him and beating Eubank Jr once and for all.

'It will be over when Conor hits him', Nigel states. 'It definitely won't go the distance. I just know what my son is capable of. I'm more confident of this fight than I was fighting against senior myself.

'I am telling you, Conor is an absolute animal. He's sparring with light-heavyweights and he is more than holding his own. All I've heard is negativity about my son over the last few years, but I am putting the record straight now.'

Inside the gym, that hunger was unmistakable. Conor stood in front of the mirror, working silently through technique — every movement fine-tuned by Tony Sims, who hovered close, adjusting the angle of a shoulder, the twitch of a glove, the subtle mechanics of menace.

When it came time for pads, it was the same rhythm, the same detail — except louder. The cracks of leather snapped through the gym as Tony absorbed body shots with a kind of quiet bravery.

'It looks like I'm wearing a normal body bag,' Tony said later, 'but I actually get these made specially. I've had to add extra sponge behind the lining so I don't feel the shots as much. Even then, with Conor, you can still feel them.'

What came after, however, offered its own kind of spectacle.

Mask on, machine hooked up, Conor strapped in for rounds of hypoxic training — the kind that mimics high altitude by restricting airflow, designed to boost red blood cell production and break you mentally and physically. A practice often used by professional athletes such as Olympian Mo Farah and fellow boxer Devin Haney.

Conor hammered the heavy bag with that same bite, then moved straight to the bike. His dad joined him there — two Benns on bikes, locked into a low-stakes race that neither of them wanted to lose.

There was laughter, of course, but underneath it, that flicker of competition you'd expect from men who live for the fight.

Conor wrapped the day with core work — dragging himself through the last stretch of pain, before finally heading off for a shower. While Nigel peeled off toward the sauna, towel slung over his shoulder, still smiling.

By the end of it all, the whole team had been nothing but welcoming. But when the last bag had been hit and the last joke cracked, there was a sense, unspoken but clear, that the day was done.

They'd given us everything. And now we needed to leave.

The Ring Magazine’s first-ever boxing card on Saturday, April 26, titled ‘FATAL FURY: City of the Wolves, headlined by Chris Eubank Jr vs Conor Benn, is live worldwide on DAZN. Buy the PPV at: www.dazn.com/boxing