IN Mexico City, Greg Haugen had death threats and his security was increased before he walked to the ring to fight Julio Cesar Chavez. On the night in front of 132,247 fanatics, he was on his own and it must have felt like the loneliest and most hostile spot on planet earth. It was not Haugen’s only trip to that unholy spot.
Haugen was a hard man in the ring, often a hard man to deal with outside of the ring and he left boxing with a brutal legacy from some stunning and controversial fights. He finished his career in 1999, failing a drug test for speed, but the other highs were glorious. His 52nd and last fight does not taint his history.
He was a 15-round guy, a real brawler, a survivor of the Tough-Man circuit, a funny man at times with demons on both sides of the ropes. He could fight his heart out one night and fight high on vodka and cocaine another night.
He won and lost world titles at two weights, but he was never meant to be a world champion. It looked like he would be the King of the Club fighters. Instead, he met a dozen good names and fought to a standstill with most.
He had bitter rivals and fought a long and distinguished list of quality boxers, travelling to their backyards and fearlessly climbing through the ropes in major world title fights. He had three savage and personal fights with Vinny Pazienza, two with Hector Camacho and beat Manny Steward’s Jimmy Paul for his first world title in 1986. The night against Chavez was extreme, but typical of Haugen. It is an impressive list of fighters.
Chavez was unbeaten in 84 fights, the WBC light-welterweight champion and nasty. Haugen had arrived in Mexico City in time to attend a conference where he said a few things about Chavez’s record. “It was all (Don) King,” insisted Haugen. “I never said a word – all I said was that he had beaten Tijuana taxi drivers.” That, I guess, is typical of Haugen not saying a word.
Haugen was beaten – that is the right description – and stopped in five. I was there after when he did say: “They must have been very tough taxi drivers.” The Mutt was brilliant in Mexico City. I was ringside that monumental night and that crowd came for a lynching and not a boxing match. Haugen never flinched.
Haugen lost his first world title when he agreed to defend his IBF lightweight title against Pazienza over 15 rounds in Providence, just five miles from Pazienza’s house. Vinny and Greg hated each other and it showed in every spiteful round. Vinny still hates him. They had a rematch for the world title – Greg wanted it in his hometown but Vinny refused – in Atlantic City and Haugen regained his belt.
It means they fought 30 rounds in just eight months and Haugen took a 10-rounder in the middle. They would fight a third time over 10 rounds and not 15 and Pazienza won that one. Haugen might have started his career on the wrong side of the boxing tracks, but he would never be mistaken for a club fighter.
After regaining his title, Haugen had a homecoming of sorts in Tacoma, just 30 minutes from his Seattle home. Haugen stopped Miguel Santana in the 11th of 15 rounds. A few weeks later he was on his way to Denmark for defence number two of his second reign. Gert Bo Jacobsen was unbeaten 26 fights but the Mutt chopped him down in the 10th. The fight, incidentally, was over the IBF’s new championship distance of 12 rounds.
The following year, Haugen lost the title to Pernell Whitaker at a venue about 30 minutes from Whitaker’s home. Whitaker, Pazienza and Chavez at home is a serious fixture list. In modern boxing, we don’t have enough hostile crowds to greet away fighters. Haugen was not done with world titles, but his personal and public life away from the ring was tricky.
He lived a full-frontal life and that meant booze and drugs and anything to take his mind away. And anybody. He was losing his way at the same time as the Lost Generation of heavyweights were sucking on crack pipes, taking dives and wasting their careers. Damn, those fighters from the Eighties knew how to be bad and go bad.
In 1991 he won and lost the WBO light-welterweight title in back-to-back fights with Hector Camacho, which were separated by just 11 weeks. In the first, Camacho was unbeaten in 38 fights. Both fights were split decisions over 12 rounds; Haugen won the first at Caesars in Las Vegas.
Haugen, the hard-man scrapper, was serious business; the fans loved his style on television. The Camacho fight was a perfect blend of the new and the old in the ancient business. The Macho Man delivered the glitz, the glamour and he could talk.
Camacho was fast and flashy and the Haugen fight was his third defence. Haugen was portrayed as just a fighter; they had a foul-filled fun time over two fights. The 11th round in the first fight is fantastic.
Haugen was inside Camacho’s head in the first fight and it worked; after 11 often bad-tempered rounds, Haugen never extended his glove at the start of the 12th and last round. Haugen was marked up, but getting to Camacho; the pair shared pre-fight secrets.
Camacho had struggled to make weight, and Haugen had smoked dope. There was an awkward pause at the start of the final round, and then Camacho angrily lashed out with a southpaw jab or two.
The place was going wild. The referee, Carlos Padilla, called Macho in and took a crucial point away. Haugen was smiling and jumping up and down to celebrate; he knows he has just won the title. The deduction cost Camacho the fight. The television audiences loved Haugen, a real, old-fashioned blue-collar worker.
Only a few years earlier; Ray Boom Boom Mancini had been the darling of televised fights in the USA. The Mutt was one of the new stars. A year after the Camacho fights, Haugen would stop Mancini in Mancini’s last fight. Haugen was always better than he was ever given credit for and he deserves all the praise.
