Exclusive Interview Interview with Former Pro Boxing Champ Greg Haugen

Posted on | October 31, 2011 | No Comments

Greg Haugen at the Boxing Hall of Fame

By: Patrick McElligott

Greg Haugen (40-10-1) has been called the greatest boxer from the state of Alaska by ESPN. During a professional career that spanned from 1982 to 1999, Haugen would win the world lightweight and super lightweight (junior welterweight) titles. The Seattle Times’ Bill Reader recently noted that Haugen, who has been frequently described as “cocky,” can be best understood as simply being “honest.” While I certainly agree with Reader on that, after last night’s interview, I think it is important to add intelligent, thoughtful, and humorous. Greg Haugen loves those he recognizes as the most important in the sport – the boxers and the fans. This comes through clearly in what is definitely among the most interesting interviews that I have done to date.

Q; When I think of your career, the one fight that stands out the most was your February 23, 1991 upset over Hector Camacho. He was undefeated, with impressive wins over Limon, Ramirez, Rosario, Edwards, Davis, Mancini, and Pazienza. You were the former two-time lightweight champion, who recently moved up in weight. Except for the “no contest” with Del Toro, you had defeated every man you fought, except Pernell Whitaker. Did it surprise you that you entered the ring as a 7-to-1 underdog?

GH: Well, kind of …. but not really. Actually, I liked those odds. Don was looking ahead to putting on a “Battle of the Undefeateds” with Camacho and Chavez. They looked at me as just a tune-up. I’d been written off after Whitaker, but the truth was I had been having trouble making weight, and I was a lot stronger when I moved up.

See, I had sparred Hector before. I knew him. For example, Hector was a guy who liked to fight about one minute of every round. 90 seconds per round at most. So my plan was to make it uncomfortable for him, by making him fight three minutes of every round.

I could tell going into the fight that he figured that he was fighting that hillbilly sparring-partner from Alaska. But he was a lot more beatable than Whitaker. I mean, Hector was a great fighter, and he had solid defensive skills. But you could hit him. If you look at films of Pernell, look how he positions his back foot, and that crouch. Hector was more squared-up.

Camacho came out fast, looking to overwhelm me. But I was able to place my shots to his belly. Then, in the second round, I went from body-to-head. I bloodied his nose and mouth that round. He came out even harder in the third, which meant he was fighting three minutes of every round. Now, I didn’t have the speed of hand and foot that he did, but I was digging hard shots to the body, and applying constant pressure. By the seventh round, he was breathing real hard. In the eighth round, I could hear him groaning when I was lifting shots under his ribs.

Q: As a “Greg Haugen fan,” that victory meant a lot. What did it mean to you at the time?

GH: That fight definitely meant a lot to me, too. Pressure kills!

Q: We’ve read that you started boxing at the age of five. Is that accurate?

GH: Yeah, I did. My father was a former US Marine. He was strict in the sense of like having my head shaved every weekend. He said that he was tired of me being bullied, and he knew a former Navy boxer who ran a gym for kids. So that’s how I got started boxing when I was five.

Q: Records indicate that you fought in over 300 amateur bouts, including numerous “boot-leg” and “tough man” competitions. What did you learn about yourself as an amateur boxer?

GH: Well, I knew that I could fight. But just knowing it wasn’t enough: I had to get in that ring and prove it. I did have 24 “Tough Man” fights, but there were a lot of other tournaments, too. There were times when I fought four or five times on a Friday, just to make it to Saturday. And you have to look back to the quality of fighters that came out of the northwest in that era. An impressive number of the top professionals from that era were from the northwest, and all of them had been top amateurs from the northwest first. And I knew that I was one of them.

Q: You didn’t have the luxury of the big promotional backing that an Olympic champion often has when turning professional. In your early career, you fought some good, much more experienced pros. The Phillipino Noel Arriesgado and Ted Michaliszyn were prospects when you met them. Neither of them were very successful after you beat them. What do remember about these two?

GH: That’s right. I didn’t start out with easy fights. Part of that was because I wasn’t really a four-round fighter. I had some speed and power, but it was to my advantage to have longer fights with guys who were faster on their feet. So even early on, I prefered to be put in a ten-round fight, where I could wear an opponent down.

I fought Ted in my tenth fight. I had been preparing for a fight with a guy from New York City, who pulled out. And then, that fight with Ted was thrown at me at the last minute. He was ranked at #7 by The Ring. When you don’t have the big promoters behind you, you have to take advantage of those opportunities. It was tough, because not only was he a good fighter, but I had been training to fight an orthodox fighter. He was a south-paw.

A lot of good fighters have that happen, getting brought in at the last minute. It’s a way for those big promoters to give their fighter an advantage. But I knew that it meant my opponent only had that same short time to prepare for me. Let’s take Freddie Roach. He was a good fighter, and his people were trying to get his career back on track. He had won three in a row.

I had sparred Freddie before, and his people didn’t think of me as a big puncher. They thought of me as just an opponent, a step along his comeback. But I never took any fight thinking of myself as just an opponent. I always prepared myself with the idea of winning every fight. For one thing, I knew that I was physically much stronger than Freddie. Plus, from sparring, I knew his moves. That’s why I was able to take him out in the seventh round.

My next two fights were like that, too. They were against Chris Calvin and Charlie Brown. I was brought in to both of those fights as the opponent. Both of them were good fighters, with a lot more speed than me. But after body-punching Calvin for four, he slowed down. By the fifth, he couldn’t move so fast. He was right there in front of me. I stopped him in six.

Charlie started out fast for about 30 seconds. Then I knocked him out.

Q: Before you would have your triligy with the Pazmanian Devil, you beat Jeff Bumpus, the Tazmanian Devil. He was 18-1 going into that fight. How did it make you feel to establish yourself as a ranked contender in twelve fights?

GH: Jeff was a good fighter. It was another example of my working hard in training, and going into the ring with a plan to win. I knew he was well-prepared, too, and coming in with a strategy to win. But my body-punching in the early rounds was what made the difference.

He still went on to fight Pazienza and Chavez in his next two fights. So beating him in my twelth fight meant that I was on my way to the title.

Q: In May of 1985, you not only solidified a top-ranking in a deep division, but you beat tough Edwin Curet for the NABF lightweight title. It seems that European promoters have made better use of such regional titles. Could boxing in America be improved by this route, perhaps replacing the number of alphabet “world” titles?

GH: The European titles are equal to some of the alphabet world titles. Look at the quality of the European fighters since, say, Lennox Lewis. And not just in the heavyweight division. By the time they reach the world stage, the best European fighters have built a really strong foundation.

Not all of the good European champions necessarily become all-time great world champions. People might point to Ricky Hatton as an example. But if you look closer at Hatton, you see a tough guy with somewhat limited skills, who had a very successful career. That European experience made him more successful than he would have been if he started his career here in America.

A big part of that has to do with the lack of good trainers. It used to be that there were so many great teachers that America was dominant in the international amateur competition. Think about the great Olympic teams we had in 1976 and the mid-1980s. Compare that to what’s been happening in the past few Olympics.

It doesn’t require great skill to teach a fighter how to throw punches. If you listen to trainers in the fights on television, concentrate on what you hear the corner telling fighters between rounds. Anyone can say, “You’ve gotta hit him more!” No kidding. But how many of them are saying, “You need to counter-punch when he jabs.” Or, “You should be slipping under his right-cross, and sliding in on his side.” Too many are just saying to hit the guy, but not telling their fighter how to move to be able to deliver those punches. The reason why is that they haven’t trained their fighter how to do those things properly – which is why those few fighters who know how to move in the ring, to slip punches correctly, and to counter-punch, stand out.

Q: About a half-year after Curet, you won the world title from Jimmy Paul. What did winning that title mean to you?

GH: That was when world title fights were fifteen rounds, which is what they should be. Paul was a really good fighter, with a great jab. And he had a hard right-hand behind that jab.

I was ranked number twelve at the time. His manager saw me as just another slow white guy. But I went in prepared, and with a plan. I nullified his jab with hard body shots. I felt really good in the ring that night, and I was proud to win the world title.

Q: Your trilogy with Vinny Pazienza was similar to that of Micky Ward and Arturo Gotti. What do you remember most about those fights?

GH: I got robbed bad in the first one. I went to his home town to defend my title. He was from Cranston, Rhode Island, but he fought out of Providence. I countered him to death that night. I knew I won. But he was awarded a home-town decision.

I beat him even worse in the second fight. So he ran like a dog in the third one. Maybe it was closer. But I definitely beat him in the first two.

Q: Speaking of Ward, in the book “Irish Thunder,” it explains his loss to Zab Judah by noting it was next to impossible to hit him. By the time Mick got a punch off, Zab had moved to another spot in the ring. You fought Pernell Whitaker, one of the greatest defensive wizzards in boxing history. What was that like?

GH: Ah, that guy was so hard to hit. He was tough. Really frustrating.

First, he was a southpaw. It’s hard to hit any good southpaw with your jab. You mainly are looking to land your right-cross and left hook. Usually, you are satisfied to just touch a southpaw with your jab, so that you can measure the right-cross and hook.

Whitaker was really smart, too. He had that crouch that made it hard to even touch him with a jab. And look at film of where he set his feet. It wasn’t just how he placed the back one. Against any southpaw, there is a contest to have your lead foot on the inside. He was a master of frustrating those attempts. So when you fight him, you can’t even do the two most basic things – having your feet right, or even touching him with a jab. That limits the possibility of landing a right-cross or left hook.

I wasn’t at my best that night anyhow. I had some management problems, and was finding out just how greedy promoters really were. And there I was, in the ring with Pernell Whitaker, who absolutely ranks high among the greatest fighters of all-time. That wasn’t a fun experience.

Q: Gert Bo Jakobsen was undefeated when you fought him. He would go on to become a world champion, and had a great trilogy with Manning Galloway. Tell us about your fight with him.

GH: I remember going over to Copenhagen to fight him. He was a big guy, tall, with a lot of knockouts. We knew going into the fight that he was a dangerous puncher.

Eddie Aliano was working as my cut-man. He went into Jakobsen’s dressing room, to watch him get his hands wrapped. Eddie saw that they were using an illegal substance with the guaze. When it got wet, it would turn to plaster, which is why he hit so hard!

We protested. It got pretty tense. The promoter came in and insisted that I had to fight. I told him that he really only had two options: either make Jokobsen re-wrap his hands, or go out an explain to the huge crowd why there wasn’t going to be a fight. He re-wraped his hands.

He was still tall and still hit hard. But I broke him down, going body-to-head. I stopped him in ten rounds.

Q: You ended Ray “Boom-Boom” Mancini’s career when he knocked him out in 1992. Have the two of you become friends since then?

A: Sure. I saw him inducted, he saw me. We’re friends. I really don’t have anything bad to say about any of the guys that I fought. I’m on good terms with all of them.

The way I see it, our fights were years ago. Those fights were like a calculated, physical chess match. They were looking to hurt me,and I was looking to hurt them. But when the fight is over, and especially when you are both retired, it’s time to be friends.

I think that it’s that way with the boxing fans, too. Maybe some people liked another fighter, and cheered for him to beat me back in the 1980s. But when I go to the Boxing Hall of Fame, or attend a boxing card, I get along with everyone.

The only people who’s opinion I didn’t care about were the promoters. I knew that some of them really didn’t like me. Tough shit.

Q: One of your most famous fights was against Julio Ceasor Chavez, who was 84-0 at the time. Most of the boxing community didn’t know that you entered the ring distracted by personal problems then. How do personal problems impact a fighter in the ring?

GH: Oh, a lot. I was getting divorced from my wife at the time. I had never felt that type of pain in any fight …. she was my first love, and that separation caused intense mental pain. That level of mental pain hurts physically, too. I had never felt such horrible pain as that, until in the first round, when I threw my first jab, and Chavez countered it. I knew the fight was over right then, when I was trying to recover from that.

Still, it’s the only fight that I really wish I could go back and do over.

Q: Since retiring, you have trained a few fighters. What is that like for you? Any good prospects now?

GH: Yeah, I’ve been working with a few kids. Trained one kid for a month or so; he’s strong, works hard. He’s 3-0 now. I had a couple others recently who were coming along good. One was 9-1; the heavyweight was 7-0. But they were getting to where they thought they knew everything. I’d tell them that I still had a lot more to teach them as they progressed, and to be patient and work hard.

But if a fighter isn’t going to listen to me, I’m not going to waste my time. I’ve been involved in this sport for decades, and so there is no way that I could possibly teach any kid everything I’ve learned in their first few fights. That heavyweight thought otherwise. He stopped listening, and got knocked out in his next fight.

I’ve told these guys, “Hey, if I wanted to talk to some young people who don’t listen to a word I say, I could just strike up a conversation with one of my kids.”

Q: Do you think that boxing would benefit from having a national commission in the United States?

GH: Yeah. Right now, every state has its own rules or regulations. That allows promoters to have too much power to dictate the sport. That gives boxing a black eye.

We need federal regulations. They should be modeled on Nevada’s, which are the best in the country. A federal commission would help the two most important groups in boxing – the fighters and the fans.

Right now, boxers get second fiddle. And they are the ones that make it happen. That’s just wrong. Right now, it’s the flesh-peddlers – the promoters – who are getting rich off of boxing. A few fighters make millions, but most don’t. The fans are laying down their money, because they love boxers. But the promoters don’t give a shit. They don’t care if you get hurt in a fight. They don’t care if you have brain injuries when you are retired – and you know that a lot of boxers do. There’s a lot of retired boxers around who are really suffering.

Promoters talk about the “free market.” A national boxing commission wouldn’t harm a free market, but it could help make a fair market. That includes mandating the fights the fans want to see, rather than the expensive mis-matches that too often are on PPV. It could also help boxers unionize, and to come up with some sort of retirement plan.

Q: Does Manny Pacquiao deserve the current acclaim he enjoys? Is he really an all-time great? How would he have fared in your day?

GH: Top ten. Top ten contender, at best, if he competed when I did. I know that Freddie trains the guy, and he really loves him, but he got hit in the head way too much if he really believes the crap he says about Pacquiao being an all-time great fighter.

First, you have to look at the way he has been promoted over the last couple of years. He’s fighting against damaged goods. Look at his next fight, for example. He’s finally giving Juan Manuel Marquez the third fight. Marquez gave him hell in both of the first two. There was a lot of controversy over who actually won those fights. Lots of people think Marquez won both of them. Why didn’t Manny settle it earlier?

Why does he keep fighting guys that Mayweather has recently beat? Look at the Mayweather vs Marquez fight. Some people say that Floyd should have knocked him out. But people who really know boxing know that taking twelve rounds of punishment from Mayweather did more damage to Marquez than his fights with Pacquiao combined. Freddie knows that, which is why Manny has made a pattern out of fighting guys who were recently damaged by Mayweather, including Hatton and de la Hoya.

You also have to consider how Manny was to move up from 108 pounds to 147 pounds. You have to be realistic. He didn’t just gain some weight. He not only kept his speed, but he became much stronger. His power increased dramatically. So didn’t his endurance, and his ability to take a punch. Talk to the guys who are experts in boxing history. Talk to the guys familiar with Roberto Duran’s rise in weight. Did he gain power? Endurance? The ability to take a punch? Of course not, and we are talking about Roberto Duran – who everyone recognizes as one of the absolute all-time greatest fighters.

Q: What do you think happens if Pacquiao fights Mayweather in 2012?

GH: Floyd will beat Manny just like he did Victor Ortiz. The thing here is that Floyd Mayweather, Jr., really is one of boxing’s all-time greats. He is at a much higher level than Pacquiao. Obviously, a big part of that is Mayweather’s defensive skills. It’s like Pernell Whitaker – you can’t hit those guys.

I know that some people will say that Pacquiao is a lot better than Ortiz, and would make a lot tougher fight of it. But I think – and I can tell you that a lot of the top people in the sport know this – that the areas that Pacquiao is better than Ortiz all play right into Mayweather’s hands. This isn’t just about Mayweather’s great defense – it’s back to those skills that allow him to slip under punches, to slide into position, and to time and devastate Pacquiao with hard counter-punches.

That’s the real reason this fight hasn’t happened. It isn’t Floyd who has actually avoided it. It’s the people promoting Manny Pacquiao that can’t afford to let him get in the ring with Mayweather.