Pernell Whitaker

When Pernell Whitaker first burst upon the scene as a professional, it was as part of a star-studded network TV event featuring all the 1984 Olympic medalists turning pro, at least those under the tutelage of the Duva management team. There were disappointments; the most highly touted of the group, Mark Breland and Tyrell Biggs, scuffled their way to boring decision wins. The fan favorite underdog Evander Holyfield slugged his way to a decision victory over the sturdy Lionel Byarm, being extended in a surprisingly spirited affair. The real blowouts were accomplished by two who would go on to be known more for speed and boxing ability, Meldrick Taylor and Pernell Whitaker.

Whitaker's opponent that night was the heretofore unknown Farrain Comeaux, whom he blew out in two rounds. He progressed at lightning speed, and within a year and a half was fighting and soundly beating such standouts as John Montes, Alfredo Layne, and Rafael Williams. He wasn't just beating these opponents, he was clowning them at that early stage.

I think it was at that point I began rooting against him. I never liked flashy fighters first of all, as I took "flash" to mean something missing in a deeper, more important place. I hung onto that belief with Whitaker as long as I could before the quality of his work demanded I see it otherwise. THEN I began to root against him because of that quality and because of the arrogant demeanor and sort of spacy way he would interact in post-fight interviews, often referring to himself in the first person while rarely if ever even mentioning the opponent he'd just outclassed. It seemed coarse and classless.

As time went on and that generation, MY generation of fighter went off into the sunset, I began to see it differently. Whitaker became a standout figure in many memories and arguments surrounding that era that meant so much to me personally. My attitudes softened now by distance and time, I began to see him as he probably assumed all others had all along. Who knows, maybe they did. He was a genius, pure and simple. One of the best defensive fighters I've seen, and as well-rounded a battler as you could hope for, minus the crushing power. He had everything else; a superb jab, great body attack, fluid combinations, superb defense, and an innate sense of what move worked best in a given situation, including fighting in the pocket without fielding much in return. It got to a point very quickly with Pernell where it wasn't really a question of whether he would win, but whether or not his opponent might win a round. He was THAT dominant.

Not many Pernell Whitakers come around in a lifetime. I still can't call myself a fan, but I hope in my many years now watching and listening I can at least tip my hat and really mean it. He's earned that and then some. They all have in their own way.

 

He was the type of fighter you either loved or hated, but he was too good to ignore. I remember World Boxing magazine actually picking Greg Haugen to beat him in a preview to their fight, which seemed to me at the time an odd pick. Pea proved how odd it was. Not sure Greg ever landed a punch 12 rounds.

 

Great piece!