America At Large: When John Duddy fought Leonard Pierre at Foxwoods Casino last March it was supposed to be the most difficult fight of the Derry middleweight's professional career. His Haitian opponent was trained by Kevin Rooney and had defeated all 16 of his professional opponents, a dozen of them inside the distance, writes George Kimball.

Duddy charged out of his corner and decked Pierre seconds after the opening bell, setting the tone for a minute-long barrage as the two men furiously traded punches. Although he took a few blows himself, Duddy had rendered Pierre nearly helpless by the time referee Frank Cappuccino stepped in to rescue the battered opponent. Exactly 83 seconds had elapsed.

"Who could have expected anything remotely like that?" Duddy would later ask as he looked back on the Pierre fight. "With him having more knockouts and more experience, we were looking to take it to him straight away to try to negate those advantages, and on the night it worked out even better than planned. Whether they last a minute and 23 seconds or they last eight rounds, as long as they're victories I'll be happy."

The St Patrick's Day encounter had been a supporting act underneath Kevin McBride's final tune-up for Mike Tyson, a fifth- round stoppage of Kevin Montiy. Duddy, who has won twice since to run his professional mark to 11-0, returns to New England as a headliner this Saturday night when he faces Joe Brady in the main event of a New England Ringside promotion at the Dana Barros Sports Complex in Mansfield, Mass.

Duddy won the All-Ireland light-middle

weight title in 2002, but his entire professional career has taken place in the US. Domiciled in Queens, he boxes out of the Irish Ropes gym in Far Rockaway, run by the Mayo-born brothers Eddie, Tony, and Martin McLoughlin.

Even those uninterested in boxing will find his name vaguely familiar. His uncle Jackie Duddy was a 17-year-old amateur boxer from Derry. On January 30th, 1972, Jackie was fleeing from British paratroopers when he was cut down by a bullet in the back. He was the first of the 13 killed on Bloody Sunday. Lord Widgery ruled the soldier "must have been aiming at someone else".

Mickey Duddy was only 12 when Jackie was killed. When he married a half dozen years later, he named his firstborn for his slain elder brother.

"His name was John Francis Duddy and my name is John Francis Duddy," said the boxer of his uncle. "He was a fighter and I'm a fighter, but I didn't become a fighter because he was a fighter. It had nothing to do with me."

In a nation that honours its martyrs in songs and poems, John Duddy could obviously have gotten considerable mileage from the connection to his martyred uncle, but the official biography distributed by his publicist omits any mention of Bloody Sunday. He has, in fact, gone out of his way to avoid capitalising on the tragedy.

Some of Jackie Duddy's surviving family spent the next three decades in a relentless pursuit of justice through countless tribunals and inquests. Mickey Duddy was not among them. Although he had honoured his brother's memory by naming his firstborn after him, he preferred to move on rather than allow his life be consumed by continually reopening the wounds of the past.

"It wasn't as if I was hiding it," explained the boxer. "The information is out there if people want to explore it, but I didn't want it to look like I was leaping on the bandwagon, since my side of the family had pretty much stayed out of it."

Mickey Duddy also boxed. His amateur career was cut short when he married at 18, but he returned to the ring several times in sporadic forays into the professional ranks.

"My father had two jobs," recalled Duddy. "He was a painter for the local council by day, and at night he worked as a bouncer . . . And whenever Christmas was coming along, if he was offered a few pounds for a fight, he'd jump at the chance."

A light welterweight, Mickey compiled a 3-4 record as a pro, and also served as a sometime sparring partner for the likes of Barry McGuigan, Ken Buchanan and Charlie Nash.

"My dad loved boxing, but he was fighting for all the wrong reasons," said Duddy. "He told me he'd never let happen to me what had happened to him. That's why at the moment I'm not fighting for money; I'm fighting to learn how good a boxer I can be, and I think if I stick to them goals the fruits will come at the end of the day."

Although he won his All-Ireland title after reaching the final each of the previous three years, Duddy had little interest in remaining an amateur long enough to box in the Olympics.

"Even when I was a kid my heroes were all professional fighters," he explained. "The Olympics and Europeans and stuff . . . it was never my main goal. My dream was always to be a professional fighter."

Travelling the well-worn path paved by Steve Collins, Wayne McCullough, Seán Mannion, and McBride, Duddy was determined to serve out his apprenticeship on the other side of the Atlantic.

"Even McGuigan trained at Gleason's early in his career," he pointed out. "Then he went back to Ireland and England and showed them what he'd learned here."

Duddy's abdication from the amateur ranks cleared the way for the emergence of Limerick's Andy Lee, who represented Ireland in Athens at the weight. The two never fought one another.

"Andy was a bit younger," said Duddy.

In the 2001 Ireland-USA duel at the National Stadium, Duddy lost a narrow 5-4 decision to Andre Ward, who would win a gold medal in Athens, but the historical significance was lost on the boxer, who didn't even remember it.

"I didn't even know I'd fought Andre Ward until after he won the gold medal," said Duddy with a chuckle. "I couldn't tell you who I've fought . . . I don't look at what's behind me. I look forward to see who's coming next."

Two nights hence, that would be Joe Brady.