Marvin Hagler would settle for nothing less than greatness | Opinion

(Editor’s note: This column originally appeared on Boxing Junkie, part of the USA TODAY Network.)

Marvin Hagler dead? Not possible. No one could take out the Marvelous one, not even the big guy. Or so it seemed.

One quarter of the legendary “Four Kings” didn’t have the most flair during a golden era of lower-weight boxers. Sugar Ray Leonard did. And he didn’t have the most power pound-for-pound. That was Thomas Hearns. And Hagler, while he never played Mr. Nice Guy, wasn’t quite as nasty as Roberto Duran.

What did Hagler bring to the table? Unparalleled toughness. You could outpoint Hagler – a few did – but you couldn’t stop him. Not possible, not with his inhuman chin, not with his determination.

And he would need that resolve to rise to greatness.

Hagler didn’t have the amateur pedigree of Leonard, who was an attraction the second his Olympic gold medal was placed around his neck. Hagler, from blue-collar Brockton, Mass., had to scratch and claw – and punch – for everything he achieved.

“It’s hard to get up at 6 a.m. when you’re wearing silk pajamas,” he once said.

That’s why he had a chip on his shoulder throughout his career; he was handed nothing. Promoter Bob Arum, who guided Hagler during his best years, told Sports Illustrated that his client fought for $50-100 per fight when he started out.

He climbed the rankings the old-school way — by winning fights.

Oh, he had some setbacks early in his career, a draw with 1972 Olympic champion Sugar Ray Seales, a disputed loss to Bobby Watts and a clear decision against veteran Willie Monroe. He learned from those disappointments and grew as a fighter, his confidence never wavering.

By the late 1970s he was all but unbeatable. And he wasn’t just defeating opponents; he used his unusual combination of ability, power and durability to dismantle them.

He gave us an idea of his mentality when he said, “The only difference between street fighting and boxing is there a ref there from stopping me from killing you.” Fans loved that attitude.

Still, in an obvious sign of disrespect, he had 49 professional fights under his belt before he finally received an opportunity to fight for the world middleweight championship in 1979. The titleholder was rough, tough Vito Antuofermo. Hagler, far superior to the Italian in terms of talent, seemed to win the fight handily but somehow had to settle for a draw.

Then, after Antuofermo lost his titles to Alan Minter, Hagler’s time finally arrived.

Minter, a rugged Englishman, was a good, experienced fighter but didn’t have much of a chance to show it at Wembley Arena in London. The fight was stopped in the third round because of deep cuts around Minter’s eyes, which didn’t sit well with the 12,000 spectators.

After the announcement was made, the ring was showered with beer cans and bottles. It got so bad that Hagler’s team formed a human umbrella in an effort to protect him in one of boxing’s most disgraceful moments.

As a result of the riot, the ring announcer never declared him the new champion. One more shot below the belt he had to endure.

Hagler had his championship, though. And he had no plans to give up. He embarked on one of the great runs in middleweight history after that fight, successfully defending his title 12 times – 11 by knockout.

That included a classic fight, his three-round war with Hearns in April 1985 at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. The fighters gave fans a Round 1 for the ages, in which both men threw defense out the window and tried to end the fight with every punch they threw.

Hagler was cut and then rocked by one of Hearns’ vaunted right hands near the end of the round but it was Hearns who suffered the most significant injury. He broke that hand, which put him in an impossible position given the beast in front of him

Hearns tried to box thereafter but Hagler, bent on destruction, pursued his prey relentlessly before finally delivering an appropriate conclusion – a right hook, followed by a straight right that sent Hearns crashing to the canvas for a dramatic knockout.

If Hagler lacked respect before that fight, he certainly didn’t afterward. He had claimed legend status.

Then, only two fights later, it was all over.

Hagler was only 32 but was showing wear and tear when he agreed to face Leonard in May 1987 at Caesars, three years after Leonard had “retired” because of a detached retina. Perhaps that’s one reason Leonard agreed to take on what seemed to be an impossible assignment.

Leonard? A blown-up welterweight coming off a long hiatus? Beating Marvin Hagler? C’mon.

It happened. Leonard, quicker and more active, impressed the judges enough to win a split decision and the middleweight championship. Who really won? Well, the majority of 25 ringside journalists polled by Newsday gave the nod to Hagler but it was close: 12 for Hagler, 10 for Leonard, three draws.

An outraged Hagler demanded a rematch but Leonard, perhaps wisely, retired once again. That was the last indignity Hagler would endure: He never fought again.

Of course, that’s the last way the proud Hagler would’ve wanted to go out, with a loss to a fighter he implied wore those silk pajamas. However, without question, he had garnered the respect he sought throughout his marvelous career.

The Hall of Famer, who died at 66 Saturday, is remembered as one of the best ever in the sport, a superhuman fighting machine that overcame significant obstacles to destroy almost everything in its path, much to the fans’ delight.

Marvin Hagler was great because he had the ability and he wouldn’t accept anything less, no matter the cost. That’s a true warrior, which is a label he would’ve chosen for himself.

“If they cut my bald head open, they will find one big boxing glove,” he said. “That’s all I am. I live it.”