One for the People: Remembering Larry Holmes Vs Mike Weaver I

By Kevin “The Voice” Kincade

On June 22nd, 1979, two days before the Leon Spinks/Gerrie Coetzee WBA title elimination match, WBC Champion Larry Holmes defended his title in Madison Square Garden before 14,000 people for relatively little money against a little known opponent. Why? Because, Larry Holmes wanted to be a great champion, a people’s champion, and this fight was “for the people”, to use his own words.

The great champions of the past, like Joe Louis and Muhammad Ali defended their titles often and against all-comers; and Larry Holmes wanted to be that kind of champion. He was scheduled to face Earnie Shavers in September for a guaranteed purse of
$ 3,000,000 million dollars. If he lost tonight, that money went out the window; but no one expected him to lose, for his 27 year old opponent had an unimpressive record of 19-8 and had never beaten anybody the quality of Holmes. Mike Weaver was to be a tune up fight for the big show to boost Larry’s popularity among the masses. Unfortunately for Holmes, nobody told Mike.

The 6’ 1”, 202 lb. “Hercules”, as he’d been dubbed by Ken Norton because of his outstanding physique, had been knocked out in his professional debut by Howard Smith and lost by knockout to other unheralded fighters, such as Billy Ryan, Larry Frazier, and Duane Bobick. He’d also lost to Smith again on points, as well as Duane Bobick’s brother Rodney, Stan Ward, and most recently, undefeated Leroy Jones. He just didn’t present the image of a championship-quality fighter as much as a journeyman, which is why he was considered a “safe” opponent for the WBC champion; and why there were no betting odds on this fight.

The story behind “the story” was the battle for control of the heavyweight championship in the wake of Ali’s retirement, which had its origins in the not so subtle coronation of Ken Norton in March of 1978. Beginning in 1974, a new promotional force emerged in boxing in the way of a former numbers runner from Cleveland, named Don King. King had exploded onto the boxing scene from nowhere when he promoted the richest purse in boxing history when he matched then champion, George Foreman with Muhammad Ali in Zaire for $ 5,000,000 million dollars apiece. When Ali won the title, his manager, Herbert Muhammad, ended up calling the shots for the rest of Ali’s career, and thus controlled the World Heavyweight Championship. Sometimes Don King would get to promote a fight, sometimes Bob Arum would, who had been around for years.

King had been guiding Larry’s career for a long time and put him in the position to win the WBC version of the championship. Don King then had promotional rights to the WBC Heavyweight Championship, which hadn’t had any big money bouts since Holmes’ upset win over Norton; but was looking at one in September when Larry faced off against Earnie Shavers again. With Ali’s impending retirement, the WBA title was going to be up for grabs between John Tate and the winner of Spinks-Coetzee shortly afterwards. The fans were very familiar with Earnie Shavers and Leon Spinks, while only modestly aware of John Tate.

While Larry, for sure, wanted to be a “People’s Champ”, it’s easy to see that his promoter certainly didn’t do anything to dissuade him from taking a supposedly low-risk tune-up defense against Weaver. One can only assume that part of the reason King wanted to keep Holmes active and in the public eye, if indeed that was the case, was to familiarize “his product” with the paying public, so he’d slide right into the void created by Ali’s absence, regardless of who won the WBA tournament. Timing is everything.
Or, as Paul Giamatti’s character said in “Cinderella Man”, “We both know the name of this game, and it sure as hell ain’t pugilism.”

As expected, the 29 year old champion came out looking to make it a quick night. Larry, at 215 lbs., wasn’t in the greatest of shape and he wanted to go home early, which seemed reasonable, given Weaver’s record. What wasn’t taken into consideration was that Weaver’s 5-fight win streak was partially motivated by a much needed change in management. Weaver had been fighting better, as of late and was showing more motivation and dedication to his craft than at any other time in his career. He’d knocked out up and coming Bernado Mercado in 5 and avenged his loss to Stan Ward with an exciting 9th round TKO. This was a new Mike Weaver, as Larry and the world soon found out. Though Holmes easily won the first three rounds with a vicious assault, Mike hung in there, battling back and giving almost as good as he got in the trenches.
Round 4 saw Mike capitalizing on the momentum he’d begun to build in round 3, when he doggedly battled back against Larry after taking some of Larry’s best stuff. Midway through the round, he nailed Larry with a vicious right which sent Holmes into the ropes, bringing the crowd to their feet, while Holmes lost his balance and slid down the strands to only catch himself before hitting the canvas.

Invigorated by his success, Weaver turned it up a notch and had Larry swinging back with all his might to keep his quarry off of him. Mixing it up to the body and the head, Weaver was living out his fantasy of being the Sylvester Stallone character, “Rocky,” a film which he said he’d watched upwards of ten times before the bout. One could also reason he might have taken some motivation from Roberto Duran’s performance on the undercard against Carlos Palomino, for “Hercules” was fighting with the grit and determination of “Manos de Piedras” as he kept pushing and pummeling Larry around the ring in Round 5 as the crowd spontaneously erupted into chants of “WEA-VER, WEA-VER, WEA-VER!!!!”

At the end of the 5th, Richie Giachetti leapt into the ring, sponge in hand, shaking its contents towards Holmes as he wearily approached his stool. In between rounds, promoter Don King, with a frantic look of worry and anger about his eyes and droplets of sweat emerging from his brow, rushed over to Larry’s corner and fervently expressed his feelings on the matter. A mismatch had suddenly metamorphosed into a 1st class drama.

Going back to the drawing board, Larry began the 6th on his toes, snapping his jab out at an onrushing Weaver, slowing his attack as well as the pace of the fight before it got out of hand as it seemed Mike was willing and ready to walk through fire to wrest the WBC belt from around Larry’s waist. Three rounds ticked by with Larry’s ring generalship quelling the Weaver offense and silencing the rabid Garden crowd, who were squarely in the corner of the underdog. More and more Holmes’ right found its mark as the bout began to take the shape of what was originally intended.

Then, in the 9th, something woke Weaver up. Either through his corner’s counsel or through his own realization of the opportunity of a lifetime slipping away, Mike revved up his engine and picked up the pace, taking advantage of Larry’s growing exhaustion and denying his own. Then, in the tenth, he hit the nitro button, lathering Holmes with punches along the ropes. After getting caught with a series of solid shots, Holmes waved Weaver on and unleashed a murderous volley of his own, snapping Mike’s head around.

Not to be denied, “Hercules” roared back, forcing the champion into ring center, connecting with a depth charge of a right hand which caused Larry’s whole body to shake as if he had trouble keeping his bones connected. Fortunately for Holmes, there were mere seconds left in the tenth and he was able to stagger back to his corner and another sponge spraying from an increasingly frantic Giachetti.

Smelling blood in the water, Weaver rushed across the way to find out if Holmes was still hurt. The chants of “WEA-VER, WEA-VER, WEA-VER!!” which had started up again in the previous stanza rose in volume as the champion waved him in and unloaded blistering counter after counter, determined to keep this upstart challenger from taking what he had worked so hard to achieve. Then Mike landed his signature punch, a debilitating left hook which, in the words of Dunphy, seemed to “take the starch out of Holmes.”

What the world didn’t realize about Larry Holmes, but was slowly learning, was that he was one of those fighters who is at his most dangerous when he was hurt. In the wake of Muhammad Ali’s reign as champion, expectations were, perhaps, too high among fans and broadcaster’s alike. People were so blinded by hero-worship of a larger-than-life personality that they couldn’t see greatness before their eyes, at least not all at once. Larry Holmes was hurt, he was in serious trouble; but, beyond his technicianship, beyond his style, above all else, he was a fighter in the truest sense of the word, a fighter to whom the “World Heavyweight Championship” meant more than anything else in the world. And he was not about to give that up.

Larry fell backwards into the ropes with Weaver in hot pursuit, unloading more howitzers, the punches bouncing off of Larry’s arms, sometimes the top of his head, or thudding into his midriff. The Garden was becoming unglued as an improbably upset was unfurling right before them. All the while, through the haze and the volley of incoming, Larry’s eyes open, watching everything Mike was doing, as he waited for his chance. Great champions find a way to come back, great champions find a way to win in their darkest hours. Larry Holmes wanted desperately to prove that he was a great champion.

At just the right moment, Holmes leaned back, rolled his shoulder, and uncorked a murderous right uppercut which Weaver never saw coming. Like a rag doll with all the stuffing removed, he collapsed straight down in a heap as if his legs had been severed from his body.
Holmes stepped over his fallen prey as the referee began his count. With a heart which refused to give in, like “Rocky Balboa” had done in “Rocky II”, Mike draped his right arm over the bottom strand and then the second, using both gloves and pure strength and will alone to do what his legs could not: pull his wrecked carcass to his feet as the round ended. The Garden was in a bedlam.

Larry met Mike at ring center in round 11, determined to put his man down once and for all. A series of thundering punches caused Weaver to retreat to a neutral corner where instinct told him to cover up from the onslaught. Holmes was taking his time now, setting his sights, measuring his man. Placing his left on Mike’s head to lower the boom with his right. Again and again it landed with no response from Weaver as he stubbornly remained on his feet, undoubtedly lost in the dream room from which he couldn’t find his way out. The referee finally showed him the door, stepping in between the two men and waving his hands to a chorus of boos from the crowd who were desperately hoping for the impossible, one more rally that the underdog simply didn’t have in him. Not all fights can end like movie sequels for challengers, especially not when you have a champion who refuses to go along with the plot.

The Champion had saved his title for another day and advanced to 31 wins without a loss and, in doing so, kept his name in the mix as to who Ali’s successor would be. Larry Holmes wanted to be a great champion and he had taken another huge step in earning that distinction, for a true champion is one who has what it takes when the going gets toughest, who can “get up when he can’t”, to quote Jack Dempsey, one who knew. A great champion is one who, when challenged by an unforeseen test, like a 19-8 fighter who became better than he was because of the event, can overcome to fight another day.

Expectations for the Holmes Vs Weaver fight were so low, that no major network wanted it. As hard as it may be for younger fans to believe, in 1979, there was no pay per view and its predecessor, Closed Circuit, was only reserved for really big fights, which Holmes Vs Weaver was believed to be anything but, beforehand.

If you wanted to watch a boxing match on television, you were only going to find it on ABC, NBC, or CBS and they all had better things to do than air Larry Holmes Vs Mike Weaver, especially in light of the one-sided mismatches of Holmes Vs Evangelista and Holmes Vs Ocasio, which were duds in the ratings. Enter a new form of Pay TV, Home Box Office, or HBO, as it is known today, who ended up with sole rights to the fight nobody wanted and, as a result, signed up more boxing fans for subscriptions.

The team of legendary broadcaster Don Dunphy, Ryan O’Neal, and a sportswriter-turned analyst, named Larry Merchant were the voices people heard while watching a great championship match and what truly was, “one for the people.”

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