Don't Tell Me I Can't

By Larry Holmes

Larry Holmes is a boxing legend and often ranked by boxing historians as one of the best fighters to ever lace up the gloves. He held the heavyweight title for nearly eight years during what many fans and scribes consider the Golden Era of the sport. He fought his way to the pinnacle of success despite (and because of) unscrupulous promoters, crooked officials, naysayers, and the shark-infested waters of boxing's movers and shakers. But he kept on winning. This is his story. Unfiltered and raw. It's told with the help of business associates, competitors, broadcasters, friends, and family. This is Larry Holmes's tell-all view of his career and the boxing world. His observations, opinions, and insights bring you into the ring for his most noted fights (Norton, Ali, Cooney, Shavers, and Tyson) and shares with the reader what he thinks and how he feels. This book is a must-have for boxing fans.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781647014292

Book preview

Chapter 1

Winning the Title

It was four decades ago last June 9 that I heard the words that forever changed my life.

And the neeeewwww WBC Heavyweight Champion of the World!

It was the outcome of a fight I had with Ken Norton at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. It was the toughest fight I’ve ever had and is regarded by many as one of the greatest fights of all time, culminating in the fifteenth round. Norton had been awarded the WBC Heavyweight Championship through a number of political maneuvers by boxing’s movers and shakers. One of those movers was a character named Don King.

More on him later.

I entered the ring that night with a professional record of 27-0 and a chip on my shoulder. I had been told by many of the so-called experts that I’d never be a champion and I didn’t have what it took to compete with and beat the best.

But I knew I did.

Now I had the chance to put the nickel-and-dime fights behind me and quiet the naysayers, and the only thing standing in my way was Ken Norton.

And a torn bicep.

Six days before the fight, I ripped it while sparring. I heard a pop after throwing a left hook, and I knew we had trouble. We didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to lose the chance to fight or have it delayed. The injury couldn’t get out to the media because in my mind, this was my only chance, and I wasn’t going to blow it.

We went to the hospital to get it looked at and met with a doctor and also a sports therapist by the name of Keith Kleven. We asked Keith his opinion as to what he could do for us. He told me if I laid off using it for a couple of days and had it massaged and worked on during the fight, we may have a shot. That’s all I needed to hear. I hired him on the spot, and Kleven became one of my cornermen the night of the fight, massaging the muscle between rounds to keep it limber. And it worked. He worked all the fights I had in Vegas when needed and became a lifelong friend. Keith eventually worked with many other top athletes over the years, including Tiger Woods.

I also scaled back my workouts leading up to the fight. Sparring was out; shadow boxing was in. And I scaled back my running. By conserving energy, I felt stronger, and it gave my arm precious time to heal.

With Keith in my corner, we were a bit nervous and had no idea what was going to happen. Would the tear get worse? Would it get hit during the fight? Would it hold out?

Cliff Ransom/ my assistant trainer and cornerman:

Larry had the ability to fight through and block out pain. This is a perfect example. A torn bicep must be excruciating and yet he went fifteen rounds and that fifteenth round was punch for punch and he won the fight. A championship fight. Because he is a champion.

As I said and as many of you saw, it was a hell of a fight. I had to pull out all the stops. I piled up an early lead behind the jab, and somehow Norton began to close the gap by attacking in the late rounds. At the end of the fourteenth round, all three scorecards read 133-133. Incredible! It would come down to round 15. My corner told me to give it everything I had, and that was the game plan from the beginning. No way was I going to let him beat me, but he was tougher than I had imagined. The crowd ended up giving us a standing ovation when it was done, and truth be told, I was exhausted. Then came the decision.

And the neeeeeeeeew…

It was and remains the biggest thrill of my life (other than marrying my wife, Diane, and the birth of my kids, of course). A wave came over my body just like it is now. You certainly don’t get a feeling like that many times in your life, and only a lucky few get to hear those words attached to their names. You want to cry, yell, laugh, and thank God and all the people who helped you get there and believed in you. It was something that I wanted, and many others told me I couldn’t get it. I proved them wrong and did it. I got some shit for calling out those so-called experts and members of the media who said I couldn’t win, but if people listened to those assholes, then they probably wouldn’t try. It just inspired me to win more. People have asked me what happened right after the fight and what obligations I was expected to handle, like meeting and greeting people, WBC officials, boxing commissioners, etc. But I had my own agenda. I initially snubbed the post-fight press conference in order to fulfill a promise I made before the fight. I said when I won the fight, not if, I would jump into the pool at Caesars Palace with my robe and trunks on, and everyone with me had to jump in as well. And they did. My entourage, brothers and sisters, members of the press, hotel staff, fans, everybody. It’s a night I’ll always remember and a feeling I’ll never forget. Then I saw Don King waiting in my room, and he yelled at me for making the press wait and not acting like a champion. How was an hour-old champion supposed to act? I had just accomplished one of the greatest feats in sports, and now Don King was yelling at me in my room. In his mind he had to keep the upper hand over me. You can’t make this stuff up!

Larry Merchant/ Former HBO commentator and sportswriter:

The Holmes-Norton fight introduced Larry to boxing fans as a serious fighter who could make entertaining fights, dramatic fights. He was a boxer who could deal with big punchers, adversity and he had a way of breaking down his opponents.

Waking up the next morning, I really didn’t know how to act, talk, react, or walk. No one hands you a manual or book welcoming you into this exclusive club. Jack Johnson, Jack Dempsey, Joe Louis, and now you? That’s heavy shit. You’re basically on your own, and yes, it does change you as a person. At least it did for me. Can’t help it. I had that title next to my name, and no matter what I did from here on out, they couldn’t take that away from me, and I wanted to do the title proud. I wanted to be the people’s champion. A lot of guys could have avoided a lot of shit if there was such a manual, but hey, just like life, it’s a learning process.

I came back to where I was living at the time in Easton and went to see my mom and family and just took it day by day. Everyone congratulates you and has advice for you. For the first time in my life, I relaxed about money. I made $300,000 for the Norton fight—the most money I had ever seen. Don King started to plan out who to fight next and how much we were going to earn.

I should also say that not everyone is happy for you. There’s jealously from friends, family, and fellow fighters. Some people don’t like you because you had just beaten their favorite fighter. Like Ken Norton. He didn’t like me much. At the very least, he wasn’t happy for me. He felt he was robbed by the judges in our fight. Even though he told Howard Cosell after the fight that he made a big mistake not applying more pressure early, he never accepted me as the champion, and that’s all right. You beat the guy in a hellava contest, shake hands, and then the guy goes around telling everyone he can’t accept it and he didn’t lose. I beg to differ.

As a footnote, Norton lost to Earnie Shavers in an attempt to get a rematch with me. Earnie’s punches were too much for him, and he was bombed out in just one round. Such is the life of a professional fighter. But I found in my travels that a lot of the people who accepted me as the champ were from all walks of life. They identified with my work ethic and principles. There was no bullshit with Larry Holmes. I came to fight, and if you didn’t like what I had to say, at least you knew you were getting the truth. I’m a people’s champion because I’m really no different than anyone else. If somebody wants a picture with me or an autograph, I’ll always stop. The fans are the ones who cheered for me and supported me and paid their hard-earned money to come and see me fight. If they rooted for my opponent, then they’re the ones that got me fired up. I feel honored that people wanted to jump in that pool with me or wanted to take a picture with me or asked for my autograph. That’s what gives me