The Nature of 'Greatness'

On the internet boxing site I use to get quick fight results, and frequently grit my teeth when reading, the discussion of the 'greatness' of fighters comes up a lot. Most often, it comes up when passionate fans of a particular fighter get caught up in argument with those still skeptical of the same fighter. Sometimes this passion is obsessive, sometimes this skepticism is beyond the pale of healthy doubt. Either way, the fan nearly always proclaims the fighter in question great while the skeptic denies this greatness or accuses the fighter of sucking outright.

Let's start by saying that (with the possible exception of John Ruiz, Nicolay Valuev, and such not-at-all-missed legends like Tex Cobb, Mark Gastineau, and Jimmy 'No, not the ex-titlist I'm the white guy Foreman knocked out with one punch' Ellis) no one good enough to make a living as a professional prize-fighter 'sucks.' So when one refers to 'Fraud Mayrunner', one is either exaggerating to make a point or just plain stupid. I hope the former.

That said, 'greatness' is not always something that can be claimed during a fighter's career. Ezzard Charles is, today, considered by many boxing historians to be the greatest light-heavyweight of all time and an all time great fighter. He is one of only five light-heavyweights (Bob Fitzsimmons, Gene Tunney, himself, Floyd Patterson, and Michael Moorer) to step up and win a legitimate, linear and undisputed heavyweight championship. Yet he was never a big draw or a top title contender during his light heavyweight career and as heavyweight champion he was constantly compared unfavorably to Joe Louis despite being a far superior technical boxer. Muhammad Ali made a lot of noise about being 'the greatest' and dominated the heavyweight division prior to his legal troubles, but his real greatness as a fighter and claim to a spot in the top five pound for pound of all time was staked after his return in his series with Joe Frazier and Ken Norton and his fight with George Foreman. Foreman's real greatness was established in two fights, decades apart: his continual, determined rise from the canvas to stop Ron Lyle and his highlight reel one punch knockout of Michael Moorer.

Greatness is defined by the opponents one fights and defeats and by the challenges one dares, win or lose. A legacy is built by those opponents and challenges, not by mere skill or talent. Foes not faced will always detract from the most brilliant career. Jose Napoles was a brilliant welterweight champion, but his true greatness was in his daring to challenge middleweight champion Carlos Monzon. He was given a frightful beating and retired in his corner, but despite the loss his legacy is greater for having dared to fight Monzon. Likewise, despite his undeniable greatness, there will always be gaps in Sugar Ray Robinson's legacy in the shapes of men like Charley Burley, Holman Williams, and The Cocoa Kid. Robinson would certainly have defeated Williams and the Kid, and very nearly certainly beaten Burley; but the fights did not happen, and so the legacy is diminished. Yet the men Robinson did face, the challenges he did dare, are still enough to make him the great pound for pound fighter of all time in the eyes of many. If Thomas Hearns had never fought Sugar Ray Leonard or Marvelous Marvin Hagler and retired undefeated, he would not be as great as he is for having essayed those memorable wars.

Sometimes one can only accept the challenges available. Rocky Marciano's greatest rivals (Jersey Joe Walcott, Ezzard Charles, and Archie Moore) couldn't match the challenges available to Ali, but they were certainly superior to Billy Conn, Buddy Baer, and Max Schmeling. Yet nearly everyone agrees that Joe Louis was greater than Marciano. Louis faced every challenge of his day, without exception, and passed every test. He even passed the one crippling challenge that Marciano never faced: the fearsome challenge of rising from defeat and proving his greatness in the wake of failure.

Greatness, in the end, is not a matter of physical talent or acquired skill. One cannot become great without them, but they do not make greatness.

If one really considers what it requires to build the legacy that proves a fighter's greatness, one sees that greatness is a question of character.