“You watch Félix Trinidad throw these kinds of punches,” HBO commentator Larry Merchant once said, “and you start thinking what God had in mind there was a fighter.”
That was on full display in 2000, as Trinidad thumped hooks and uppercuts into the tough Mamadou Thiam — pure, destructive rhythm from one of boxing’s most gifted punchers.
A conqueror of three Olympic gold medalists — Pernell Whitaker, David Reid, and Oscar De La Hoya — ‘"Tito’' Trinidad was born in Cupey Alto, Puerto Rico on this day in 1973.
A dominant seven-year reign as welterweight world champion, plus titles at light middleweight and middleweight, cemented his legacy. Trinidad retired with a record of 42–3 (35 KOs), including an outstanding 20–1 (16 KOs) in world title fights.
A true Puerto Rican icon and one of the most exciting power punchers the sport has ever seen.
Wayne "Pocket Rocket" McCullough was nicknamed for his small stature (pocket) combined with his fast, powerful, and relentless boxing style (rocket), a moniker given to him by a coach who said he was small enough to fit in his pocket but hit like a rocket. He was known for his explosive energy, durability, and busy, aggressive approach, earning the nickname during his amateur career that stuck throughout his world championship run.
He challenged six times for world titles at super-bantamweight and featherweight. As an amateur, McCullough represented Ireland at the 1992 Summer Olympics, winning a bantamweight silver medal. He also won flyweight gold at the 1990 Commonwealth Games, representing Northern Ireland.
In addition to McCullough's dogged, relentless attacking style, he was renowned for his durable chin, having fought two of boxing's biggest punchers in Naseem Hamed and Érik Morales, and gone the full distance with both of them. In each of those exciting "Fight of the Year" contenders, he broke his opponent's lengthy run of KO wins while taking them the distance. Hamed had knocked out 18 opponents straight before McCullough, and was 30–0 at the time with 28 knockouts to his credit. Morales had knocked out 9 of his previous 9 opponents and was 34–0 at the time, also with 28 knockouts. Morales stated that McCullough gave him one of the top three fights of his career and almost quit on his stool after the 9th round (according to Ring magazine). During his bout with Morales in 1999, HBO commentator Larry Merchant joked, "If you look in the dictionary, under 'Tough Irishman', you'll find a picture of Wayne McCullough". McCullough was never once knocked down in his professional career. He also stopped the late Arturo Gatti as an amateur.
33 years ago today, Iran Barkley produced another chapter in one of boxing’s most violent, unforgiving careers.
Facing Darrin Van Horn, Barkley needed less than two rounds to impose his will, scoring a brutal TKO in round 2 to win the International Boxing Federation super middleweight title.
Already a former middleweight world champion, “The Blade” became a two-division champion the hard way—no finesse, no safety-first boxing, just relentless pressure, heavy hands, and a willingness to walk through fire to get the job done.
Barkley never had an easy night. Every fight was a war. And nights like this are why his name still carries weight with real boxing fans.
The relationship between boxing legend "Prince" Naseem Hamed and his iconic trainer Brendan Ingle ended acrimoniously, primarily due to a financial dispute over Hamed's earnings, leading to Hamed leaving Ingle's gym in 1997, with Hamed later expressing regret and a desire to apologize for harsh words, while Ingle remained unwilling to reconcile due to the damage done to their bond and Ingle's socialist principles about fighter pay. Ingle discovered Hamed, a naturally gifted but flamboyant fighter, nurturing his unorthodox style and cocky persona. Together, they achieved massive global success, with Hamed becoming a multiple world champion and a huge draw in the 1990s. As Hamed earned millions, he wanted to renegotiate his percentage, but Ingle, who ran his gym on socialist principles where better fighters subsidized others, refused to change the deal. Hamed left Ingle's Sheffield gym, ending their 16-year partnership in a bitter split. During the split, Hamed said "nasty things" about Ingle, including calling him "Judas." Years later, Hamed publicly stated he wanted to apologize to Ingle for his hurtful comments and thank him for his contributions. A source close to Ingle indicated he wouldn't meet Hamed, unwilling to forgive the way things ended and feeling betrayed. Their story highlights a legendary trainer-fighter bond that soured due to fame and money, a common theme in boxing.
"I tried for years to reach out to him and claw back, to sit down and just quash it. But there was nothing there, there was no way he was going to do it. I've no regrets about anything. I just wish we could have closed it amongst ourselves, but it didn't happen.
I tried going through his family, his sons, his friends. Even down to the funeral; I said I wanted to go but one of his daughters sent me one of the worst messages you could dream of. Once I got that message, everything was clear. If that's the way you feel, then fine, no problem. It was all about money, that's the sad thing with Brendan.
He did a deal with me at the age of 11. He wanted to hold me down to speaking to me at 11, how can you shake a kid's hand and say you owe me that? Brendan would call me his meal ticket, how could he treat me as a meal ticket?
It's so sad because the person who trained me, and who should get all of the recognition for doing most of the work, is Brendan's son John. He hardly got anything and nobody talks about him. But I've had a break and stayed quiet but this is my time to tell the truth."
I want to do a profile on Prince Naseem Hamed but I honestly don't know if that's a mountain I want to attempt to climb, I'm a novice at this stuff and Hamed is an absolute legend and I can't begin to possibly cover everything with him. I'll start off by saying this about him, I don't know if I've ever seen a boxer that shot to superstar status like he did, his rise to fame was meteoric. He was young, arrogant, cocky, brash, in your face, and he was hated for it, but he backed it up in the ring. He was one of the most entertaining fighters you'll ever see, elusive as hell, a master at defense and slipping punches, he was nearly impossible to hit cleanly, and had a fire axe for a left hand, one of the hardest punchers in featherweight history. Naseem Hamed was famously a southpaw, known for his flashy, unorthodox style where he often kept his hands low and switched between southpaw and orthodox stances, using his speed and power from both sides to overwhelm opponents. He was a dominant featherweight champion who combined showmanship, unpredictable movement, and knockout power. He has four books written about him and there's a movie about him entitled "The Giant" starring Pierce Brosnan as his trainer Brendan Ingle that just came out.
I guess if I'm going to talk about Prince Naseem Hamed, I'll start off with his downfall, the night Marco Antonio Barrera handed him his first and only professional loss.
The Night the Hype Died: The Fall of Prince Naseem Hamed
22 Years Ago Yesterday, Marco Antonio Barrera ended the myth of the Prince
By: Jonathan Snowden
Apr 08, 2023
When I was in my early 20’s, Prince Naseem Hamed was that dude. Along with Roy Jones and a handful of others, he was among the first fighters of the hip hop generation, a rakish, reckless, unconventional southpaw puncher from Sheffield, England with a swagger and style all his own.
Even before he made his American television debut, whispers were spreading from across the pond. A VHS tape was passed around on the trading circuit, grainy videos of this skinny Yemeni kid blasting fools, flipping into and around the ring while doing his best Jones’ impression inside it once the bell rang. He took Roy’s unorthodoxy to new, absurd levels. Hamed was never on the right foot, never once approached a textbook stance, did almost everything technically wrong all the time.
And, yet, the bodies hit the floor.
One of nine kids at home, easily lost among the tumult, he was happy when the spotlight shined on him and him alone. Standing just 5’3”, he nevertheless cast a large shadow. In 1997 HBO took note and signed him to a six-fight deal, guaranteeing at least $2 million each time he strapped on the gloves. The executives, questioned by some at the time for hanging a 50 by 20 billboard in Times Square to advertise a fighter with so little elite experience, looked like geniuses after his first bout, a barn-burner that showed the Prince at his absolute best and worst.
The night began with Hamed’s hilariously trolling his opponent Kevin Kelley, left to stew in the ring while the Prince took his sweet time with an entrance that included four minutes of dancing behind a curtain, his silhouette the only thing proclaiming his presence to the world. It only got worse when the bell rang, for Kelley at least, culminating with a multiple knockdown shootout in the fourth round that left even skeptics silent.
Hamed stands over a fallen Kelley
“What we just saw,” announcer Larry Merchant, rarely at a loss for words, said, “was the Hagler-Hearns of featherweight fighting.”
Hamed shuffled around the ring with his hands down by his sides, counting on hyper-natural speed to both save his bacon on occasion as well as propel his fists into someone’s fast with shocking force, rattling brains and captivating fans.
Still, no one knew quite what to make of Hamed, somehow a disciple of both Muhammad Ali and Michael Jackson. People under 25 seemed to love him and he became a pop culture phenomenon in Britain, every bit as famous as Oasis and Victoria Beckham. Those who didn’t, who derisively called him a ‘Spice Boy’, still couldn’t stop watching, hoping beyond hope to see him lose.
His flamboyant confidence could be off-putting, especially to people who didn’t consider it well earned based on his accomplishments in the ring. When Sports Illustrated called him a “preening narcissist with an impregnable ego” with “a ragged, sometimes buffoonish fighting style” many nodded along in silent agreement.
But the Prince had a different way of putting it—“poetry in motion.”
He would eventually sign a new deal that could deliver up to $48 million over six fights, the most most lucrative ever for a fighter weighing under 130 pounds. That kind of money came with equally lofty expectations, as did a letter from Buckingham Palace inviting him to become a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. But what followed the Kelley destruction was not quite as compelling as that one-in-a-lifetime debut—less impressive outings against opponents with less impressive names like Sanchez and Soto.
Left on the outside looking in were potential foes like Juan Manuel Marquez, who turned down a lowball offer that made some believe Hamed was content to duck anyone who might actually do him harm. Sniping from HBO’s broadcast sharp shooters was getting dangerous. They called some of his fights with a barely hidden sneer. Too many more pattycakes and it would turn deadly. Seth Abraham, HBO’s head honcho, said as much to the San Francisco Examiner:
“I’ve told Naseem’s brother and promoter Riath ‘Your brother is a good fighter and you don’t have to protect him. At the moment you’re driving a Rolls Royce at 40 mph.’”
It was time, in other words, for Hamed to put up or shut up. And, since shutting up didn’t seem to be in the cards for the voluble star, a fight was booked with an opponent with gravitas, hand selected by trainer Emanuel Steward and thought to be the kind of hard-charging brawler who would walk right into a power punch.
Like Hamed, his opponent Marco Antonio Barrera had been the hot new thing in a sport that eats its young. Once called the heir to Chavez, two losses to Junior Jones tarnished his star. Although the two men were both just 27-years-old, Barrera had lived a full life in the ring already, competing more than 50 times, often in life-changing bouts like his furious battle with Erik Morales the year before.
“I felt humbled by watching this,” Merchant said. “Almost like they were giving too much of themselves.”
Despite his incredible fight with Morales, or perhaps because of it, Barrera was the betting underdog and both Roy Jones and 28 of 30 sports writers agreed with the public.
“The Prince is on his way up,” Jones said pre-fight, perhaps seeing himself in the featherweight star. “Barrera is maybe on his way down.”
In his training camp, sycophants only showed Hamed tapes of Barrera’s least impressive moments, building an unhealthy level of confidence. Comfortably ensconced in a Palm Springs mansion that once belonged to Bing Crosby, the Prince spent more time trying to work off the slight belly pooch he’d built between fights than he did sparring.
“He had so much talent that, in preparation for the Barrera fight, he took Barrera lightly,” Steward said in a 2011 interview. “If he had approached Barrera with focus and intensity he would have beaten Barrera. His punching power, his elusiveness, his instincts were just too much. It was just the case of someone not being prepared for a fight.”
Hamed was living large
Barrera, meanwhile, was in the mountains of Big Bear, snow still on the ground in March as he worked out in a public gym. This was Rocky III only real life. Barrera’s stark conditions and regimen were in marked contrast to Hamed at the height of his diva games, flying to Vegas in a Lear jet and sending to Mexico for a special pair of goatskin boxing gloves, only to insist the day before the fight he didn’t want to wear them after all, insisting instead that his contract allowed him to take the gloves Barrera brought instead.
It was one of several manufactured dramas before the bout. Hamed seemed comically, it turns out dangerously, unconcerned about the actual business at hand. In between holding meetings about how his private chef would be serving meals and flying in a Los Angeles-based barber, Hamed’s team spent copious time preparing one of his trademark elaborate entrances.
“It means more to me than the fight,” documentary cameras caught the Prince telling Michael Buffer behind the scenes. Ultimately, it went just about as well. Flying to the ring on a disc-shaped trapeze swing, Hamed was soaked by a perfectly placed beer thrown by a gifted member of the audience with a stellar arm.
Covered in suds and forced to wear off-the-shelf gloves after the Nevada commission settled glove-gate by making both men wear plain red ones, Hamed hesitated when it came time to make his trademark flip into the ring. He came in between the ropes like a mere mortal instead.
In this business, we call that foreshadowing.
Hamed is pelted by a beer can on his way to the ring
The fight that followed was neither as compelling nor as one-sided as we’ve come to remember it in our imaginations. Barrera was clinical but cautious, tagging Hamed when he’d flop off-balance into range, content to mostly do nothing when he didn’t.
“My people prepared me well,” Barrera said after the fight. “I didn’t want to charge him and get careless.”
At one point, after a brief grappling exhibition, both Nevada official Marc Ratner and a uniformed police officer hopped on the ring apron to restore order. Later, Barrera would ram Hamed’s head into the turnbuckle after another scuffle.
Slowly, when the wrestling turned to boxing, the Mexican took charge.
After staggering Hamed in the first round, Barrera wobbled him again in the fourth and ninth rounds. For all his talk about “devastating” his foe, Hamed never managed to land a single significant left hand. Barrera kept his hands high, circled left so much he nearly wore a track in the mat, occasionally using his height and reach advantage to pop out an accurate jab and quick left hooks to the body and head. Hamed, despite copious openings, never delivered in kind.
It was easy for even experienced fighters to get sucked into Hamed’s game, enraged by his taunts or simply unable to avoid the temptation he presented by persistently keeping his hands down head up. Barrera never lost focus or discipline, fighting a professional’s fight. He was happy to put his effort and training up against something as ephemeral as “talent” and came out the other side with his hand raised.
Before the bout, Hamed had put all his faith in his Lord, saying Allah would decide the victor. As the clock ticked down in the final round, announcer Jim Lampley couldn’t help razz the cocky Englishman, crowing “Allah knows how to spell Barrera. B-A-R-R-E-R-A.”
When the decisions were read, the division had a new star. One of the beautiful things about boxing is the way fighters can rewrite the established narrative with nothing more than two fists and a will to win. April 7, 2001 was supposed to be the crowning of Prince Naseem Hamed as among the sport’s pound-for-pound kings. Barrera? He was just a bit player, another anecdote in a great man’s story. Until he chose otherwise. Until he decided the story was actually about him.
Before the bout it was assumed Barrera was near the end. Instead he fought another decade, winning two rematches with Morales that etched his name in history. He also challenged himself against Marquez and Manny Pacquiao, two names that appear nowhere on Hamed’s resume.
Instead, it was the seemingly ascendant Prince who had fought his last major bout. After one more lackluster fight against Manuel Calvo a year later, Hamed stepped away for good. Some believed Barrera had stolen his heart and fighting spirit. Others assumed he had made enough money to escape the perilous grind that eventually wears every boxer down.
The actual answer, according to the Prince himself, was simple and to the point.
“I had hand trouble and could not take the power of my punch," Hamed told BBC Radio in 2009. "I needed cortisone injections to take away the pain when I fought, then after every fight the gloves would be whipped off and my hands would be as big as balloons.
"It was getting ridiculous and you can't go on with no ammunition. I was one of the hardest punchers ever known but if the hands are quite brittle and you do damage, then it's hard to carry on.”
Many fights end with the fighters on divergent paths. That was true here as well—for a time. Ultimately, both ended in Canastota, New York where both men are enshrined in the International Boxing Hall of Fame. While the years and subsequent controversy have faded Hamed’s star, there was a time few shined brighter. Now he will be remembered for as long as men batter each other for pride or pay. Barrera, too, earned his place among the elites, in no small part due to the higher profile he walked out of this bout with.
Does that count as a happy ending? In the sport of boxing, it doesn’t get much better.
Honesty, my feelings about Hamed, at the time of his rise I wasn't heavily into boxing, I would watch it every now and again if it were on a cable TV channel that I happened to run across while flipping channels. I do remember flipping through the channels one night and he was on ESPN being interviewed by Max Kellerman, he was still unbeaten at the time and they showed some highlights of him and I listened to Hamed speak with his British accent, but I didn't think much of it. Years later when I really got into the sport, I rediscovered some highlights of him and was blown away by his style of fighting, tricky as all get out, I thought to myself, jeez, I can't imagine trying to fight this guy. He was everywhere, all the time, like a house of mirrors. He would be there hitting you one second, gone the next, you would try to hit him and you couldn't find him to save your life, his ability to dodge and slip punches was uncanny. His style was a puzzle that just baffled the ever living hell out of you. His opponents must have felt like they were trying to fight a damn Hummingbird. I've never seen anyone fight like Hamed, and never will again, nobody in the history of boxing fought like him, he had a style all his own, it was electrifying, mesmerizing, he was a phenom, a prodigy. Just look at his highlights and you'll see what I mean.
Seeing Hamed fight, his style, it's easy to see why he was unbeatable for so long, good luck trying to solve that puzzle and figure him out, he was unpredictable. He was unbeaten for the first eight years of his professional career, from his debut in 1992 until his sole defeat to Marco Antonio Barrera in April 2001, holding a perfect 35-0 record at that point, making his unbeaten streak nearly a decade long before that legendary loss. He retired in 2002 with a final record of 36 wins and 1 loss. Which brings us to Marco Antonio Barrera, aka "The Baby Faced Assassin", the only man to solve the puzzle of Naseem Hamed and beat him. Before his fight with Barrera, I believe Hamed said something to the effect of, "He's just another Mexican fighter." I'm not sure what Hamed thought about Mexican fighters but let me say this, Mexican fighters are blood-and-guts warriors, they have a "take no prisoners" mentality and they just assume die than lose. They're tougher than a bag of hammers and they'll take you to hell and back. Perhaps Hamed should have looked at Barrera's fight with Erik Morales and realized the kind of storm that was approaching him, the war that Barrera was capable of waging. I think Hamed, with his ego, looked past Barrera, saw him as just another victim. You didn't want to look past this man.
Hamed should have paid attention to Barrera vs Morales I in 2000 because Barrera was a different breed from anyone Hamed had ever faced. Barrera was called the "The Baby Faced Assassin" because his youthful, almost innocent-looking face contrasted sharply with his incredibly brutal and effective boxing style, especially his devastating body shots, precise combinations, and relentless pressure, earning him a reputation as a merciless killer in the ring despite his "baby face". He was a technically skilled, two-fisted fighter who could deliver vicious left hooks to the body, leaving opponents in agony, embodying the "assassin" part of his nickname.
Naseem Hamed was widely seen as disrespectful to opponents due to his flamboyant antics like showboating, taunting, standing over fallen foes, and even kissing the ring post, which many viewed as humiliation tactics designed to flaunt his dominance and superiority. While some found it arrogant and disliked him for it, others appreciated his unique showmanship, recognizing it as part of his persona that made his fights must-see events, even if his actions were deemed disrespectful by those who felt he went too far. Personally, looking at Hamed now, I understand it was part of Hamed's persona, but it does leave a bit of a sour taste in your mouth and it feels good to watch Barrera put Hamed in his place. And that's exactly what Barrera did, and he did it with a brilliant technical strategy. Barrera’s technical strategy against Naseem Hamed in 2001 was designed to neutralize Hamed’s unorthodox, power-punching style through disciplined boxing, superior ring generalship, and tactical adjustments. Instead of engaging in a brawl, which would have favored Hamed, Barrera used a patient, technical approach to outbox him. Barrera constantly circled to his own left, away from Hamed’s dangerous, trademark left-handed counter-punch. Barrera utilized a stiff, consistent jab to disrupt Hamed's rhythm, preventing him from setting up his power shots. When Hamed attempted to engage, Barrera landed sharp counter-punches to both the head and body, Mexican fighters are notorious for their body shots, God bless em'. Rather than charging forward, Barrera remained patient, refusing to be drawn into a wild exchange. By not allowing Hamed to land his signature "one-shot" knockout blows, Barrera frustrated him and caused him to tire. Barrera often "roughed up" Hamed in clinches to break his rhythm and drain his energy. Barrera put on a boxing clinic, winning a unanimous decision with scores of 115-112, 115-112, and 116-111, and it's one of my favorite performances in a boxing ring. But make no mistake about it, Hamed was a monster and Barrera had to fight a very disciplined and cautious fight against him.
This is my favorite shot from the Hamed-Barrera fight and it's really self explanatory as to why, just look at it, one of the most savage boxing photos ever taken. Both of these guys had granite chins and there were no knockdowns in this fight.
It would have been interesting if this fight had taken place a few years prior to 2001, in the late 90s when Hamed was at his absolute peak, he took this fight 30 pounds overweight, he entered the fight weight drained with worn hands, and he had split with his longtime trainer Brendan Ingle and was with Oscar Suarez and Emmanuel Steward. In 1997 Barrera was a brawler and had not yet become the technically sound, mean as a snake fighter he became. It would have been interesting for sure because Barrera would probably have been drawn into a firefight and Hamed had murderous punching power. Not saying Hamed would have won, Barrera was a savage, he didn't mind the taste of his own blood.
I forgot to post this photo, Barrera roughing Hamed up during the fight. Barrera wasn't taking any crap that night and he got pissed off and put Hamed in a full Nelson and rammed him into the corner ring post. Barrera had a point deducted for this incident and was lucky not to be disqualified for it. Thank goodness he wasn't because he painted a pugilistic masterpiece that night and deserved the win.
Despite everything, Hamed's attitude, his ego, his persona, his cockiness, his arrogance, he was one of the greatest ever and he put on one hell of a show, outside the ring and inside the ring. Nobody made an entrance quite like Hamed and he took great pride in making a grand entrance, he used to say his entrances were more important to him than the fights themselves.
Prince Naseem Hamed appears amidst sayings from the Koran, the Islamic holy book, and then floats out in a sphere prior to his fight against two-time world champion Marco Antonio Barrera of Mexico at the MGM Grand Casino in Las Vegas in 2001.
Like always, I'm just going to post these photos, I'm not going to try to keep his fights in chronological order or anything, too confusing for me. I'm not an expert at this stuff, I just really, truly enjoy the sport and it's fascinating. "Prince" Naseem Hamed catches Said Lawal with a right hand en route to scoring a 1st round KO and defending the WBO featherweight title in 1996.
The top two photos are wicked, Naseem Hamed catching Wilfredo Vasquez with what looks like a right hook/uppercut hybrid, Hamed hit you from crazy angles. Vasquez was a legendary Puerto Rican fighter, he had great knockout power, a very aggressive style, and a real "anyone, anywhere, anytime" attitude. He was past prime when he fought Hamed in 1998 and Hamed got him in 7 rounds by TKO.
A few months removed from his exciting scrap with Kevin Kelley, Hamed appeared slightly cautious in the early going of this fight, perhaps looking to avoid the punishment he took in his last bout. Hamed jabbed and moved, but in round 2 Vázquez landed a right hand that shook Hamed, offering a reminder that he couldn't get careless.
In round 3, Hamed landed a left hand and sent Vázquez down. Almost on cue, Vázquez lashed out and backed Hamed off, then landed another hard shot before the bell in round 4. Vázquez suddently appeared more confident and he fought well in the 5th.
Hamed got back into his rhythm in round 6 when he landed another left that put Vázquez down. The ring itself malfunctioned, however, and one of the ropes needed replacing before Hamed could do more damage, and it delayed the fight for a handful of minutes.
After the fight resumed, Hamed attacked in round 7 and connected on a left hand that put Vázquez down for a third time. The 37-year-old wasn't getting away this time, and Hamed swarmed when he got up, sending Vázquez to the deck one last time before the bout was stopped.
"He was a very good champion, but I am the truest world champion," Hamed said after the fight. "I took him apart. He was good but a little bit slow and I knew my speed and my heart were going to get me through."
Hamed really did have a way of getting under your skin at times, the way he carried himself, his attitude, the taunting, the disrespect for opponents, standing over them. Excellent post I ran across.
No Respect
Naseem Hamed was a polarizing and controversial figure going back into his teen years. In only his fifth professional bout against Des Gargano (pictured) in 1992, an 18-year-old Hamed sent his very over-matched foe to the canvas repeatedly, both with punches and pushes. Hamed lingered to stand over Gargano as he was down—something he would do against a number of fighters over the years.
Hamed was dubbed "a thorn in the side of British boxing" due to his flamboyant in-ring behavior and the outlandish way he spoke outside of it. "When you look in my eyes, you look into a man's eyes knowing he's not gonna get beat, and ready to conquer the world," Hamed said immediately after winning a world title.
Still, Hamed stayed unbeaten through the 1990s and into the 2000s, and he became a superstar doing it. At least until he crossed paths with Marco Antonio Barrera. When he faced the Mexican veteran in 2001, Barrera would treat Hamed the way the "Prince" had treated so many of his opponents: with No Respect.
When you really think about it, Naseem Hamed was really no different than Muhammad Ali, he would taunt his opponents and stand over them at times as well, and Ali could be irritating and get under your skin too. I read one time that Hamed actually memorized Muhammad Ali's ultra-confident style, both in and out of the ring, even including Ali's facial expressions. And don't get me started on Tyson Fury and his trash talking. Brilliant fighters though.
Naseem Hamed and "The Flushing Flash" Kevin Kelley went to war in a wild fight at Madison Square Garden on December 19th, 1997. Naz, at times, was brilliant. But predominantly he was careless, over-eager and the brawl was all the more entertaining for it: six knockdowns, three apiece, and one conclusive Hamed KO to finish. Kelley was called "The Flushing Flash" because he hailed from Flushing, Queens, New York, and lived up to the "flash" part with his incredibly fast hands, sharp reflexes, and explosive, exciting fighting style, making him a must-see attraction in the 1990s featherweight division.
What a way to deliver on a promise of excitement. Naz, from having his image splashed across cabs in New York and billboards in Times Square, made and entrance to remember and had an unforgettable fight with brash New Yorker Kelley. Their fight saw seven knockdowns, six counts, and a crushing finale courtesy of a crushing left hand. Bob Mee, Boxing News’ veteran hack was excited by the fight but had hoped for more skill from both men.
“It may seem a daft assertion to those who loved the excitement of what they saw,” Mee wrote. “But Hamed fought badly. He won, yet he did almost everything wrong.”
That was arguably fair, but history doesn’t remember it that. This was Naz, flaws, flamboyance and all on the biggest stage.
“He’s for real,” shouted George Foreman, on comms for HBO. Larry Merchant was even more effusive.
“What we just saw was the Hagler-Hearns of featherweight fighting. We have never seen a fight like this in the featherweight division on this level."
The Fight City
Boxiana
Dec. 19, 1997: Hamed vs Kelley
By: Jamie Rebner
The time had come for the arrogant, fast-talking pugilist they called “The Prince” to conquer the most famous arena in boxing history. The gifted power-puncher had already become a major attraction, a star in his native England, not to mention a world champion. With more than a little noise, the one and only Prince Naseem Hamed had arrived in the Big Apple. Never seeing a camera or microphone he didn’t like, “Naz” bragged to all who would listen about his supremacy. Now it was time for the brash Briton to step into Madison Square Garden, to show off his ring skills, as well as his flamboyant showmanship, to a New York City fight crowd.
Prince Naseem Hamed: Ink drawing by Damien Burton
Prince Naseem Hamed: Ink drawing by Damien Burton.
Hamed’s NYC takeover and the ninth defense of his WBO featherweight title was to be at the expense of Brooklyn’s own Kevin Kelley and it proved to be a night to remember for all present. Even before the bout began, Hamed’s extravagance was on full display, with his customary, drawn-out ring entrance, featuring an illuminated catwalk and sparkling confetti. His patented front flip into the ring was not left out either. And so with The Prince finally in the ring, the pageantry was over, but the real action and the serious thrills were about to begin.
The fireworks started early, with former champion Kelley scoring the first of many knockdowns just two minutes into this unforgettable brawl. After Hamed pressured Kelley to the ropes and unloaded a flurry, his lack of textbook technique got him in trouble. Backing up with his hands down and chin exposed, he was sent to the canvas by a sweeping right from the New York native. Although Hamed got up and appeared unhurt, he had definitely conceded the opening round, though that didn’t stop the Brit from boldly staring down his opponent at the bell.
Kelley’s success continued early in the second, when he performed a slick maneuver of switching stances to launch a lead left hook that landed clean and forced Hamed to touch his gloves to the canvas, marking another knockdown. Kelley sensed his opponent was hurt and pursued aggressively, looking to land another damaging blow. But trading in the pocket with the always dangerous “Naz” proved unwise, as the Prince countered Kelley with a hook that sent the American falling backwards into the corner.
Fortunately for “The Flushing Flash,” the ref ruled it a slip, allowing him to maintain his stranglehold on the round. But Kelley’s advantage would be short-lived as Hamed landed a straight right to the chin that felled his opponent. Kelley rose and when the action resumed it was only more intense, both fighters unloading big shots as the Garden crowd roared, both seeking to land another convincing bomb to close the show.
The pace slowed in round three, with neither fighter establishing clear advantage, but it was a brief respite, as the fireworks resumed in the fourth. Midway through, southpaw Hamed landed two big lefts, the second of which put Kelley on the seat of his trunks again, evening up the knockdown tally at two apiece.
Hamed resumed his attack and was beginning to seize control, until he was caught by a counter right hook that again forced his glove to touch the canvas. It didn’t damage Hamed, but his opponent was credited with yet another knockdown. Kelley again decided to pursue the finish and landed a number of hard power punches, but it was this brawling instinct that would ultimately prove his demise. Hamed landed several hard counters, stopping Kelley in his tracks, and then came the finishing blow, a stiff left cross that put Kelley down for the count.
With a total of six knockdowns, Hamed vs Kelley gave fans their money’s worth and more. It was a blistering battle full of thrills and spills and it confirmed that the brash and garrulous battler from Britain was indeed a stateside star. “Naz” not only talked a big game, he also backed it up with big punches. Under the bright lights of the legendary Madison Square Garden, the grandest of stages, Prince Naseem Hamed won new fans while showing the whole world there was no harder puncher in the featherweight division.
Some more great photos from the Hamed-Kelley fight. I'm not going to attempt to put these in order, it was a shootout of a fight and I'm just going to post the photos.
Naseem Hamed vs Wayne McCullough on Halloween night, 2000. This was Hamed's second fight in the USA after the Kevin Kelley fight. Before the fight, Naz had been experiencing problems with his trainer, Brendan Ingle, after some things Brendan said that appeared in a book about Naz. This would be Hamed's last fight with trainer Brendan Ingle and with promoter Frank Warren. Hamed had promised to knock McCullough out within three rounds before the bout, but come fight time, Naz came nowhere close to stopping the iron-chinned McCullough, Hamed would score the unanimous decision victory but McCullough would end Prince Naseem's 18 fight KO/TKO streak by going all 12 rounds.
This is my favorite Prince Naseem Hamed poster, it was designed to look like the logo of the TV show "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air", one of my favorite TV shows by the way.
Another interesting thing, there's a VHS tape, a documentary, about Prince Naseem Hamed that came out in the 90s called "Natural Born Thriller" and the name of the documentary and the logo on the tape are designed and inspired from the film "Natural Born Killers" that came out around the same time in the 90s.
On September 30th, 1995, a 21-year-old Prince Naseem Hamed stopped Steve Robinson in round 8 in Cardiff, Wales, to capture the WBO world featherweight title and begin his ascent into superstardom. Robinson was down once in the 5th as well.
Credit: Boxing News Online
"Cynics who choose not to give Naseem Hamed his due for this impeccable beatdown will point to Steve Robinson and label him a journeyman who got lucky when he won the WBO featherweight title.
Those cynics would be missing the point.
Hamed, only 21 years old, rose in weight to dethrone an established belt-holder in his hometown, one who had beaten Colin McMillan, Paul Hodkinson and Duke McKenzie and one who, even in America, was ranked among the best in the world at 126lbs. Hamed – hit by a coin on his way to the ring – was at his awe-inspiring and spiteful best on this night. It’s likely that Robinson, had he encountered anyone other than Hamed, would have been at his best, too.
Robinson objected to having to fight Hamed. He did not feel Hamed, who had never before fought at feather, deserved the chance and demanded more money that never came."
Man, Hamed was difficult to hit cleanly. I know that Hamed always viewed boxing as "a game of tag", hit and not be hit. Hamed grew up admiring the great British defensive fighter Herol "Bomber" Graham, considering him a major inspiration and patterning his own famous "hands-down" style after Graham's unique, elusive movement. Hamed has publicly praised Graham as one of the best fighters Britain ever produced, calling him a childhood hero and a key influence on his boxing.
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“You watch Félix Trinidad throw these kinds of punches,” HBO commentator Larry Merchant once said, “and you start thinking what God had in mind there was a fighter.”
That was on full display in 2000, as Trinidad thumped hooks and uppercuts into the tough Mamadou Thiam — pure, destructive rhythm from one of boxing’s most gifted punchers.
A conqueror of three Olympic gold medalists — Pernell Whitaker, David Reid, and Oscar De La Hoya — ‘"Tito’' Trinidad was born in Cupey Alto, Puerto Rico on this day in 1973.
A dominant seven-year reign as welterweight world champion, plus titles at light middleweight and middleweight, cemented his legacy. Trinidad retired with a record of 42–3 (35 KOs), including an outstanding 20–1 (16 KOs) in world title fights.
A true Puerto Rican icon and one of the most exciting power punchers the sport has ever seen.
Wayne "Pocket Rocket" McCullough was nicknamed for his small stature (pocket) combined with his fast, powerful, and relentless boxing style (rocket), a moniker given to him by a coach who said he was small enough to fit in his pocket but hit like a rocket. He was known for his explosive energy, durability, and busy, aggressive approach, earning the nickname during his amateur career that stuck throughout his world championship run.
He challenged six times for world titles at super-bantamweight and featherweight. As an amateur, McCullough represented Ireland at the 1992 Summer Olympics, winning a bantamweight silver medal. He also won flyweight gold at the 1990 Commonwealth Games, representing Northern Ireland.
In addition to McCullough's dogged, relentless attacking style, he was renowned for his durable chin, having fought two of boxing's biggest punchers in Naseem Hamed and Érik Morales, and gone the full distance with both of them. In each of those exciting "Fight of the Year" contenders, he broke his opponent's lengthy run of KO wins while taking them the distance. Hamed had knocked out 18 opponents straight before McCullough, and was 30–0 at the time with 28 knockouts to his credit. Morales had knocked out 9 of his previous 9 opponents and was 34–0 at the time, also with 28 knockouts. Morales stated that McCullough gave him one of the top three fights of his career and almost quit on his stool after the 9th round (according to Ring magazine). During his bout with Morales in 1999, HBO commentator Larry Merchant joked, "If you look in the dictionary, under 'Tough Irishman', you'll find a picture of Wayne McCullough". McCullough was never once knocked down in his professional career. He also stopped the late Arturo Gatti as an amateur.
33 years ago today, Iran Barkley produced another chapter in one of boxing’s most violent, unforgiving careers.
Facing Darrin Van Horn, Barkley needed less than two rounds to impose his will, scoring a brutal TKO in round 2 to win the International Boxing Federation super middleweight title.
Already a former middleweight world champion, “The Blade” became a two-division champion the hard way—no finesse, no safety-first boxing, just relentless pressure, heavy hands, and a willingness to walk through fire to get the job done.
Barkley never had an easy night. Every fight was a war. And nights like this are why his name still carries weight with real boxing fans.
BA LeCarre deserved an action figure, he just did.
LeCarre was an elderly and insane Cobra cook who repurposed derelict GI Joe and Cobra ships into an underwater city.
He ends up teaming up with the Joes and helping raise the sunken, USS Flagg.
Shame on Hasbro for not making this happen, just shame on them.
Music break.
The relationship between boxing legend "Prince" Naseem Hamed and his iconic trainer Brendan Ingle ended acrimoniously, primarily due to a financial dispute over Hamed's earnings, leading to Hamed leaving Ingle's gym in 1997, with Hamed later expressing regret and a desire to apologize for harsh words, while Ingle remained unwilling to reconcile due to the damage done to their bond and Ingle's socialist principles about fighter pay. Ingle discovered Hamed, a naturally gifted but flamboyant fighter, nurturing his unorthodox style and cocky persona. Together, they achieved massive global success, with Hamed becoming a multiple world champion and a huge draw in the 1990s. As Hamed earned millions, he wanted to renegotiate his percentage, but Ingle, who ran his gym on socialist principles where better fighters subsidized others, refused to change the deal. Hamed left Ingle's Sheffield gym, ending their 16-year partnership in a bitter split. During the split, Hamed said "nasty things" about Ingle, including calling him "Judas." Years later, Hamed publicly stated he wanted to apologize to Ingle for his hurtful comments and thank him for his contributions. A source close to Ingle indicated he wouldn't meet Hamed, unwilling to forgive the way things ended and feeling betrayed. Their story highlights a legendary trainer-fighter bond that soured due to fame and money, a common theme in boxing.
"I tried for years to reach out to him and claw back, to sit down and just quash it. But there was nothing there, there was no way he was going to do it. I've no regrets about anything. I just wish we could have closed it amongst ourselves, but it didn't happen.
I tried going through his family, his sons, his friends. Even down to the funeral; I said I wanted to go but one of his daughters sent me one of the worst messages you could dream of. Once I got that message, everything was clear. If that's the way you feel, then fine, no problem. It was all about money, that's the sad thing with Brendan.
He did a deal with me at the age of 11. He wanted to hold me down to speaking to me at 11, how can you shake a kid's hand and say you owe me that? Brendan would call me his meal ticket, how could he treat me as a meal ticket?
It's so sad because the person who trained me, and who should get all of the recognition for doing most of the work, is Brendan's son John. He hardly got anything and nobody talks about him. But I've had a break and stayed quiet but this is my time to tell the truth."
I want to do a profile on Prince Naseem Hamed but I honestly don't know if that's a mountain I want to attempt to climb, I'm a novice at this stuff and Hamed is an absolute legend and I can't begin to possibly cover everything with him. I'll start off by saying this about him, I don't know if I've ever seen a boxer that shot to superstar status like he did, his rise to fame was meteoric. He was young, arrogant, cocky, brash, in your face, and he was hated for it, but he backed it up in the ring. He was one of the most entertaining fighters you'll ever see, elusive as hell, a master at defense and slipping punches, he was nearly impossible to hit cleanly, and had a fire axe for a left hand, one of the hardest punchers in featherweight history. Naseem Hamed was famously a southpaw, known for his flashy, unorthodox style where he often kept his hands low and switched between southpaw and orthodox stances, using his speed and power from both sides to overwhelm opponents. He was a dominant featherweight champion who combined showmanship, unpredictable movement, and knockout power. He has four books written about him and there's a movie about him entitled "The Giant" starring Pierce Brosnan as his trainer Brendan Ingle that just came out.
I guess if I'm going to talk about Prince Naseem Hamed, I'll start off with his downfall, the night Marco Antonio Barrera handed him his first and only professional loss.
The Night the Hype Died: The Fall of Prince Naseem Hamed
22 Years Ago Yesterday, Marco Antonio Barrera ended the myth of the Prince
By: Jonathan Snowden
Apr 08, 2023
When I was in my early 20’s, Prince Naseem Hamed was that dude. Along with Roy Jones and a handful of others, he was among the first fighters of the hip hop generation, a rakish, reckless, unconventional southpaw puncher from Sheffield, England with a swagger and style all his own.
Even before he made his American television debut, whispers were spreading from across the pond. A VHS tape was passed around on the trading circuit, grainy videos of this skinny Yemeni kid blasting fools, flipping into and around the ring while doing his best Jones’ impression inside it once the bell rang. He took Roy’s unorthodoxy to new, absurd levels. Hamed was never on the right foot, never once approached a textbook stance, did almost everything technically wrong all the time.
And, yet, the bodies hit the floor.
One of nine kids at home, easily lost among the tumult, he was happy when the spotlight shined on him and him alone. Standing just 5’3”, he nevertheless cast a large shadow. In 1997 HBO took note and signed him to a six-fight deal, guaranteeing at least $2 million each time he strapped on the gloves. The executives, questioned by some at the time for hanging a 50 by 20 billboard in Times Square to advertise a fighter with so little elite experience, looked like geniuses after his first bout, a barn-burner that showed the Prince at his absolute best and worst.
The night began with Hamed’s hilariously trolling his opponent Kevin Kelley, left to stew in the ring while the Prince took his sweet time with an entrance that included four minutes of dancing behind a curtain, his silhouette the only thing proclaiming his presence to the world. It only got worse when the bell rang, for Kelley at least, culminating with a multiple knockdown shootout in the fourth round that left even skeptics silent.
Hamed stands over a fallen Kelley
“What we just saw,” announcer Larry Merchant, rarely at a loss for words, said, “was the Hagler-Hearns of featherweight fighting.”
Hamed shuffled around the ring with his hands down by his sides, counting on hyper-natural speed to both save his bacon on occasion as well as propel his fists into someone’s fast with shocking force, rattling brains and captivating fans.
Still, no one knew quite what to make of Hamed, somehow a disciple of both Muhammad Ali and Michael Jackson. People under 25 seemed to love him and he became a pop culture phenomenon in Britain, every bit as famous as Oasis and Victoria Beckham. Those who didn’t, who derisively called him a ‘Spice Boy’, still couldn’t stop watching, hoping beyond hope to see him lose.
His flamboyant confidence could be off-putting, especially to people who didn’t consider it well earned based on his accomplishments in the ring. When Sports Illustrated called him a “preening narcissist with an impregnable ego” with “a ragged, sometimes buffoonish fighting style” many nodded along in silent agreement.
But the Prince had a different way of putting it—“poetry in motion.”
He would eventually sign a new deal that could deliver up to $48 million over six fights, the most most lucrative ever for a fighter weighing under 130 pounds. That kind of money came with equally lofty expectations, as did a letter from Buckingham Palace inviting him to become a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. But what followed the Kelley destruction was not quite as compelling as that one-in-a-lifetime debut—less impressive outings against opponents with less impressive names like Sanchez and Soto.
Left on the outside looking in were potential foes like Juan Manuel Marquez, who turned down a lowball offer that made some believe Hamed was content to duck anyone who might actually do him harm. Sniping from HBO’s broadcast sharp shooters was getting dangerous. They called some of his fights with a barely hidden sneer. Too many more pattycakes and it would turn deadly. Seth Abraham, HBO’s head honcho, said as much to the San Francisco Examiner:
“I’ve told Naseem’s brother and promoter Riath ‘Your brother is a good fighter and you don’t have to protect him. At the moment you’re driving a Rolls Royce at 40 mph.’”
It was time, in other words, for Hamed to put up or shut up. And, since shutting up didn’t seem to be in the cards for the voluble star, a fight was booked with an opponent with gravitas, hand selected by trainer Emanuel Steward and thought to be the kind of hard-charging brawler who would walk right into a power punch.
Like Hamed, his opponent Marco Antonio Barrera had been the hot new thing in a sport that eats its young. Once called the heir to Chavez, two losses to Junior Jones tarnished his star. Although the two men were both just 27-years-old, Barrera had lived a full life in the ring already, competing more than 50 times, often in life-changing bouts like his furious battle with Erik Morales the year before.
“I felt humbled by watching this,” Merchant said. “Almost like they were giving too much of themselves.”
Despite his incredible fight with Morales, or perhaps because of it, Barrera was the betting underdog and both Roy Jones and 28 of 30 sports writers agreed with the public.
“The Prince is on his way up,” Jones said pre-fight, perhaps seeing himself in the featherweight star. “Barrera is maybe on his way down.”
In his training camp, sycophants only showed Hamed tapes of Barrera’s least impressive moments, building an unhealthy level of confidence. Comfortably ensconced in a Palm Springs mansion that once belonged to Bing Crosby, the Prince spent more time trying to work off the slight belly pooch he’d built between fights than he did sparring.
“He had so much talent that, in preparation for the Barrera fight, he took Barrera lightly,” Steward said in a 2011 interview. “If he had approached Barrera with focus and intensity he would have beaten Barrera. His punching power, his elusiveness, his instincts were just too much. It was just the case of someone not being prepared for a fight.”
Hamed was living large
Barrera, meanwhile, was in the mountains of Big Bear, snow still on the ground in March as he worked out in a public gym. This was Rocky III only real life. Barrera’s stark conditions and regimen were in marked contrast to Hamed at the height of his diva games, flying to Vegas in a Lear jet and sending to Mexico for a special pair of goatskin boxing gloves, only to insist the day before the fight he didn’t want to wear them after all, insisting instead that his contract allowed him to take the gloves Barrera brought instead.
It was one of several manufactured dramas before the bout. Hamed seemed comically, it turns out dangerously, unconcerned about the actual business at hand. In between holding meetings about how his private chef would be serving meals and flying in a Los Angeles-based barber, Hamed’s team spent copious time preparing one of his trademark elaborate entrances.
“It means more to me than the fight,” documentary cameras caught the Prince telling Michael Buffer behind the scenes. Ultimately, it went just about as well. Flying to the ring on a disc-shaped trapeze swing, Hamed was soaked by a perfectly placed beer thrown by a gifted member of the audience with a stellar arm.
Covered in suds and forced to wear off-the-shelf gloves after the Nevada commission settled glove-gate by making both men wear plain red ones, Hamed hesitated when it came time to make his trademark flip into the ring. He came in between the ropes like a mere mortal instead.
In this business, we call that foreshadowing.
Hamed is pelted by a beer can on his way to the ring
The fight that followed was neither as compelling nor as one-sided as we’ve come to remember it in our imaginations. Barrera was clinical but cautious, tagging Hamed when he’d flop off-balance into range, content to mostly do nothing when he didn’t.
“My people prepared me well,” Barrera said after the fight. “I didn’t want to charge him and get careless.”
At one point, after a brief grappling exhibition, both Nevada official Marc Ratner and a uniformed police officer hopped on the ring apron to restore order. Later, Barrera would ram Hamed’s head into the turnbuckle after another scuffle.
Slowly, when the wrestling turned to boxing, the Mexican took charge.
After staggering Hamed in the first round, Barrera wobbled him again in the fourth and ninth rounds. For all his talk about “devastating” his foe, Hamed never managed to land a single significant left hand. Barrera kept his hands high, circled left so much he nearly wore a track in the mat, occasionally using his height and reach advantage to pop out an accurate jab and quick left hooks to the body and head. Hamed, despite copious openings, never delivered in kind.
It was easy for even experienced fighters to get sucked into Hamed’s game, enraged by his taunts or simply unable to avoid the temptation he presented by persistently keeping his hands down head up. Barrera never lost focus or discipline, fighting a professional’s fight. He was happy to put his effort and training up against something as ephemeral as “talent” and came out the other side with his hand raised.
Before the bout, Hamed had put all his faith in his Lord, saying Allah would decide the victor. As the clock ticked down in the final round, announcer Jim Lampley couldn’t help razz the cocky Englishman, crowing “Allah knows how to spell Barrera. B-A-R-R-E-R-A.”
When the decisions were read, the division had a new star. One of the beautiful things about boxing is the way fighters can rewrite the established narrative with nothing more than two fists and a will to win. April 7, 2001 was supposed to be the crowning of Prince Naseem Hamed as among the sport’s pound-for-pound kings. Barrera? He was just a bit player, another anecdote in a great man’s story. Until he chose otherwise. Until he decided the story was actually about him.
Before the bout it was assumed Barrera was near the end. Instead he fought another decade, winning two rematches with Morales that etched his name in history. He also challenged himself against Marquez and Manny Pacquiao, two names that appear nowhere on Hamed’s resume.
Instead, it was the seemingly ascendant Prince who had fought his last major bout. After one more lackluster fight against Manuel Calvo a year later, Hamed stepped away for good. Some believed Barrera had stolen his heart and fighting spirit. Others assumed he had made enough money to escape the perilous grind that eventually wears every boxer down.
The actual answer, according to the Prince himself, was simple and to the point.
“I had hand trouble and could not take the power of my punch," Hamed told BBC Radio in 2009. "I needed cortisone injections to take away the pain when I fought, then after every fight the gloves would be whipped off and my hands would be as big as balloons.
"It was getting ridiculous and you can't go on with no ammunition. I was one of the hardest punchers ever known but if the hands are quite brittle and you do damage, then it's hard to carry on.”
Many fights end with the fighters on divergent paths. That was true here as well—for a time. Ultimately, both ended in Canastota, New York where both men are enshrined in the International Boxing Hall of Fame. While the years and subsequent controversy have faded Hamed’s star, there was a time few shined brighter. Now he will be remembered for as long as men batter each other for pride or pay. Barrera, too, earned his place among the elites, in no small part due to the higher profile he walked out of this bout with.
Does that count as a happy ending? In the sport of boxing, it doesn’t get much better.
Honesty, my feelings about Hamed, at the time of his rise I wasn't heavily into boxing, I would watch it every now and again if it were on a cable TV channel that I happened to run across while flipping channels. I do remember flipping through the channels one night and he was on ESPN being interviewed by Max Kellerman, he was still unbeaten at the time and they showed some highlights of him and I listened to Hamed speak with his British accent, but I didn't think much of it. Years later when I really got into the sport, I rediscovered some highlights of him and was blown away by his style of fighting, tricky as all get out, I thought to myself, jeez, I can't imagine trying to fight this guy. He was everywhere, all the time, like a house of mirrors. He would be there hitting you one second, gone the next, you would try to hit him and you couldn't find him to save your life, his ability to dodge and slip punches was uncanny. His style was a puzzle that just baffled the ever living hell out of you. His opponents must have felt like they were trying to fight a damn Hummingbird. I've never seen anyone fight like Hamed, and never will again, nobody in the history of boxing fought like him, he had a style all his own, it was electrifying, mesmerizing, he was a phenom, a prodigy. Just look at his highlights and you'll see what I mean.
Seeing Hamed fight, his style, it's easy to see why he was unbeatable for so long, good luck trying to solve that puzzle and figure him out, he was unpredictable. He was unbeaten for the first eight years of his professional career, from his debut in 1992 until his sole defeat to Marco Antonio Barrera in April 2001, holding a perfect 35-0 record at that point, making his unbeaten streak nearly a decade long before that legendary loss. He retired in 2002 with a final record of 36 wins and 1 loss. Which brings us to Marco Antonio Barrera, aka "The Baby Faced Assassin", the only man to solve the puzzle of Naseem Hamed and beat him. Before his fight with Barrera, I believe Hamed said something to the effect of, "He's just another Mexican fighter." I'm not sure what Hamed thought about Mexican fighters but let me say this, Mexican fighters are blood-and-guts warriors, they have a "take no prisoners" mentality and they just assume die than lose. They're tougher than a bag of hammers and they'll take you to hell and back. Perhaps Hamed should have looked at Barrera's fight with Erik Morales and realized the kind of storm that was approaching him, the war that Barrera was capable of waging. I think Hamed, with his ego, looked past Barrera, saw him as just another victim. You didn't want to look past this man.
Hamed should have paid attention to Barrera vs Morales I in 2000 because Barrera was a different breed from anyone Hamed had ever faced. Barrera was called the "The Baby Faced Assassin" because his youthful, almost innocent-looking face contrasted sharply with his incredibly brutal and effective boxing style, especially his devastating body shots, precise combinations, and relentless pressure, earning him a reputation as a merciless killer in the ring despite his "baby face". He was a technically skilled, two-fisted fighter who could deliver vicious left hooks to the body, leaving opponents in agony, embodying the "assassin" part of his nickname.
Naseem Hamed was widely seen as disrespectful to opponents due to his flamboyant antics like showboating, taunting, standing over fallen foes, and even kissing the ring post, which many viewed as humiliation tactics designed to flaunt his dominance and superiority. While some found it arrogant and disliked him for it, others appreciated his unique showmanship, recognizing it as part of his persona that made his fights must-see events, even if his actions were deemed disrespectful by those who felt he went too far. Personally, looking at Hamed now, I understand it was part of Hamed's persona, but it does leave a bit of a sour taste in your mouth and it feels good to watch Barrera put Hamed in his place. And that's exactly what Barrera did, and he did it with a brilliant technical strategy. Barrera’s technical strategy against Naseem Hamed in 2001 was designed to neutralize Hamed’s unorthodox, power-punching style through disciplined boxing, superior ring generalship, and tactical adjustments. Instead of engaging in a brawl, which would have favored Hamed, Barrera used a patient, technical approach to outbox him. Barrera constantly circled to his own left, away from Hamed’s dangerous, trademark left-handed counter-punch. Barrera utilized a stiff, consistent jab to disrupt Hamed's rhythm, preventing him from setting up his power shots. When Hamed attempted to engage, Barrera landed sharp counter-punches to both the head and body, Mexican fighters are notorious for their body shots, God bless em'. Rather than charging forward, Barrera remained patient, refusing to be drawn into a wild exchange. By not allowing Hamed to land his signature "one-shot" knockout blows, Barrera frustrated him and caused him to tire. Barrera often "roughed up" Hamed in clinches to break his rhythm and drain his energy. Barrera put on a boxing clinic, winning a unanimous decision with scores of 115-112, 115-112, and 116-111, and it's one of my favorite performances in a boxing ring. But make no mistake about it, Hamed was a monster and Barrera had to fight a very disciplined and cautious fight against him.
This is my favorite shot from the Hamed-Barrera fight and it's really self explanatory as to why, just look at it, one of the most savage boxing photos ever taken. Both of these guys had granite chins and there were no knockdowns in this fight.
Great technical breakdown on how Barrera beat Hamed.
It would have been interesting if this fight had taken place a few years prior to 2001, in the late 90s when Hamed was at his absolute peak, he took this fight 30 pounds overweight, he entered the fight weight drained with worn hands, and he had split with his longtime trainer Brendan Ingle and was with Oscar Suarez and Emmanuel Steward. In 1997 Barrera was a brawler and had not yet become the technically sound, mean as a snake fighter he became. It would have been interesting for sure because Barrera would probably have been drawn into a firefight and Hamed had murderous punching power. Not saying Hamed would have won, Barrera was a savage, he didn't mind the taste of his own blood.
I forgot to post this photo, Barrera roughing Hamed up during the fight. Barrera wasn't taking any crap that night and he got pissed off and put Hamed in a full Nelson and rammed him into the corner ring post. Barrera had a point deducted for this incident and was lucky not to be disqualified for it. Thank goodness he wasn't because he painted a pugilistic masterpiece that night and deserved the win.
Despite everything, Hamed's attitude, his ego, his persona, his cockiness, his arrogance, he was one of the greatest ever and he put on one hell of a show, outside the ring and inside the ring. Nobody made an entrance quite like Hamed and he took great pride in making a grand entrance, he used to say his entrances were more important to him than the fights themselves.
Prince Naseem Hamed appears amidst sayings from the Koran, the Islamic holy book, and then floats out in a sphere prior to his fight against two-time world champion Marco Antonio Barrera of Mexico at the MGM Grand Casino in Las Vegas in 2001.
Naz enters on his throne before his fight with Daniel Alicea.
Prince Naseem Hamed is driven out of the smoke towards the ring before his fight with Paul Ingle in 1999.
My personal favorite Naseem Hamed entrance was when he floated out on a magic carpet before his fight with Vuyani Bungu in March of 2000.
The Halloween entrance with the full moon before his fight with Wayne McCullough on October 31st in 1998.
The confetti entrance at Madison Square Garden before his fight with Kevin Kelley on December 19th, 1998.
Hamed was famous for entering the ring by doing a front flip over the ropes, he always had to entertain.
Let's look at some good photos from Hamed's fights.
Like always, I'm just going to post these photos, I'm not going to try to keep his fights in chronological order or anything, too confusing for me. I'm not an expert at this stuff, I just really, truly enjoy the sport and it's fascinating. "Prince" Naseem Hamed catches Said Lawal with a right hand en route to scoring a 1st round KO and defending the WBO featherweight title in 1996.
Gosh, looking at those photos of Hamed, he was built for power, the compact muscles in his legs.
The top two photos are wicked, Naseem Hamed catching Wilfredo Vasquez with what looks like a right hook/uppercut hybrid, Hamed hit you from crazy angles. Vasquez was a legendary Puerto Rican fighter, he had great knockout power, a very aggressive style, and a real "anyone, anywhere, anytime" attitude. He was past prime when he fought Hamed in 1998 and Hamed got him in 7 rounds by TKO.
A few months removed from his exciting scrap with Kevin Kelley, Hamed appeared slightly cautious in the early going of this fight, perhaps looking to avoid the punishment he took in his last bout. Hamed jabbed and moved, but in round 2 Vázquez landed a right hand that shook Hamed, offering a reminder that he couldn't get careless.
In round 3, Hamed landed a left hand and sent Vázquez down. Almost on cue, Vázquez lashed out and backed Hamed off, then landed another hard shot before the bell in round 4. Vázquez suddently appeared more confident and he fought well in the 5th.
Hamed got back into his rhythm in round 6 when he landed another left that put Vázquez down. The ring itself malfunctioned, however, and one of the ropes needed replacing before Hamed could do more damage, and it delayed the fight for a handful of minutes.
After the fight resumed, Hamed attacked in round 7 and connected on a left hand that put Vázquez down for a third time. The 37-year-old wasn't getting away this time, and Hamed swarmed when he got up, sending Vázquez to the deck one last time before the bout was stopped.
"He was a very good champion, but I am the truest world champion," Hamed said after the fight. "I took him apart. He was good but a little bit slow and I knew my speed and my heart were going to get me through."
Hamed really did have a way of getting under your skin at times, the way he carried himself, his attitude, the taunting, the disrespect for opponents, standing over them. Excellent post I ran across.
No Respect
Naseem Hamed was a polarizing and controversial figure going back into his teen years. In only his fifth professional bout against Des Gargano (pictured) in 1992, an 18-year-old Hamed sent his very over-matched foe to the canvas repeatedly, both with punches and pushes. Hamed lingered to stand over Gargano as he was down—something he would do against a number of fighters over the years.
Hamed was dubbed "a thorn in the side of British boxing" due to his flamboyant in-ring behavior and the outlandish way he spoke outside of it. "When you look in my eyes, you look into a man's eyes knowing he's not gonna get beat, and ready to conquer the world," Hamed said immediately after winning a world title.
Still, Hamed stayed unbeaten through the 1990s and into the 2000s, and he became a superstar doing it. At least until he crossed paths with Marco Antonio Barrera. When he faced the Mexican veteran in 2001, Barrera would treat Hamed the way the "Prince" had treated so many of his opponents: with No Respect.
When you really think about it, Naseem Hamed was really no different than Muhammad Ali, he would taunt his opponents and stand over them at times as well, and Ali could be irritating and get under your skin too. I read one time that Hamed actually memorized Muhammad Ali's ultra-confident style, both in and out of the ring, even including Ali's facial expressions. And don't get me started on Tyson Fury and his trash talking. Brilliant fighters though.
Naseem Hamed and "The Flushing Flash" Kevin Kelley went to war in a wild fight at Madison Square Garden on December 19th, 1997. Naz, at times, was brilliant. But predominantly he was careless, over-eager and the brawl was all the more entertaining for it: six knockdowns, three apiece, and one conclusive Hamed KO to finish. Kelley was called "The Flushing Flash" because he hailed from Flushing, Queens, New York, and lived up to the "flash" part with his incredibly fast hands, sharp reflexes, and explosive, exciting fighting style, making him a must-see attraction in the 1990s featherweight division.
What a way to deliver on a promise of excitement. Naz, from having his image splashed across cabs in New York and billboards in Times Square, made and entrance to remember and had an unforgettable fight with brash New Yorker Kelley. Their fight saw seven knockdowns, six counts, and a crushing finale courtesy of a crushing left hand. Bob Mee, Boxing News’ veteran hack was excited by the fight but had hoped for more skill from both men.
“It may seem a daft assertion to those who loved the excitement of what they saw,” Mee wrote. “But Hamed fought badly. He won, yet he did almost everything wrong.”
That was arguably fair, but history doesn’t remember it that. This was Naz, flaws, flamboyance and all on the biggest stage.
“He’s for real,” shouted George Foreman, on comms for HBO. Larry Merchant was even more effusive.
“What we just saw was the Hagler-Hearns of featherweight fighting. We have never seen a fight like this in the featherweight division on this level."
The Fight City
Boxiana
Dec. 19, 1997: Hamed vs Kelley
By: Jamie Rebner
The time had come for the arrogant, fast-talking pugilist they called “The Prince” to conquer the most famous arena in boxing history. The gifted power-puncher had already become a major attraction, a star in his native England, not to mention a world champion. With more than a little noise, the one and only Prince Naseem Hamed had arrived in the Big Apple. Never seeing a camera or microphone he didn’t like, “Naz” bragged to all who would listen about his supremacy. Now it was time for the brash Briton to step into Madison Square Garden, to show off his ring skills, as well as his flamboyant showmanship, to a New York City fight crowd.
Prince Naseem Hamed: Ink drawing by Damien Burton
Prince Naseem Hamed: Ink drawing by Damien Burton.
Hamed’s NYC takeover and the ninth defense of his WBO featherweight title was to be at the expense of Brooklyn’s own Kevin Kelley and it proved to be a night to remember for all present. Even before the bout began, Hamed’s extravagance was on full display, with his customary, drawn-out ring entrance, featuring an illuminated catwalk and sparkling confetti. His patented front flip into the ring was not left out either. And so with The Prince finally in the ring, the pageantry was over, but the real action and the serious thrills were about to begin.
The fireworks started early, with former champion Kelley scoring the first of many knockdowns just two minutes into this unforgettable brawl. After Hamed pressured Kelley to the ropes and unloaded a flurry, his lack of textbook technique got him in trouble. Backing up with his hands down and chin exposed, he was sent to the canvas by a sweeping right from the New York native. Although Hamed got up and appeared unhurt, he had definitely conceded the opening round, though that didn’t stop the Brit from boldly staring down his opponent at the bell.
Kelley’s success continued early in the second, when he performed a slick maneuver of switching stances to launch a lead left hook that landed clean and forced Hamed to touch his gloves to the canvas, marking another knockdown. Kelley sensed his opponent was hurt and pursued aggressively, looking to land another damaging blow. But trading in the pocket with the always dangerous “Naz” proved unwise, as the Prince countered Kelley with a hook that sent the American falling backwards into the corner.
Fortunately for “The Flushing Flash,” the ref ruled it a slip, allowing him to maintain his stranglehold on the round. But Kelley’s advantage would be short-lived as Hamed landed a straight right to the chin that felled his opponent. Kelley rose and when the action resumed it was only more intense, both fighters unloading big shots as the Garden crowd roared, both seeking to land another convincing bomb to close the show.
The pace slowed in round three, with neither fighter establishing clear advantage, but it was a brief respite, as the fireworks resumed in the fourth. Midway through, southpaw Hamed landed two big lefts, the second of which put Kelley on the seat of his trunks again, evening up the knockdown tally at two apiece.
Hamed resumed his attack and was beginning to seize control, until he was caught by a counter right hook that again forced his glove to touch the canvas. It didn’t damage Hamed, but his opponent was credited with yet another knockdown. Kelley again decided to pursue the finish and landed a number of hard power punches, but it was this brawling instinct that would ultimately prove his demise. Hamed landed several hard counters, stopping Kelley in his tracks, and then came the finishing blow, a stiff left cross that put Kelley down for the count.
With a total of six knockdowns, Hamed vs Kelley gave fans their money’s worth and more. It was a blistering battle full of thrills and spills and it confirmed that the brash and garrulous battler from Britain was indeed a stateside star. “Naz” not only talked a big game, he also backed it up with big punches. Under the bright lights of the legendary Madison Square Garden, the grandest of stages, Prince Naseem Hamed won new fans while showing the whole world there was no harder puncher in the featherweight division.
Some more great photos from the Hamed-Kelley fight. I'm not going to attempt to put these in order, it was a shootout of a fight and I'm just going to post the photos.
This is the most powerful image from the Hamed-Kelley fight, the shot of Hamed smiling and winking at Kelley after finishing him off.
Naseem Hamed and Kevin Kelley after the fight.
Thr highlights from Hamed-Kelley.
Naseem Hamed vs Wayne McCullough on Halloween night, 2000. This was Hamed's second fight in the USA after the Kevin Kelley fight. Before the fight, Naz had been experiencing problems with his trainer, Brendan Ingle, after some things Brendan said that appeared in a book about Naz. This would be Hamed's last fight with trainer Brendan Ingle and with promoter Frank Warren. Hamed had promised to knock McCullough out within three rounds before the bout, but come fight time, Naz came nowhere close to stopping the iron-chinned McCullough, Hamed would score the unanimous decision victory but McCullough would end Prince Naseem's 18 fight KO/TKO streak by going all 12 rounds.
Let's look at a few Naz posters, he always had great posters.
Look at the eyes, awesome poster.
This is my favorite Prince Naseem Hamed poster, it was designed to look like the logo of the TV show "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air", one of my favorite TV shows by the way.
Another interesting thing, there's a VHS tape, a documentary, about Prince Naseem Hamed that came out in the 90s called "Natural Born Thriller" and the name of the documentary and the logo on the tape are designed and inspired from the film "Natural Born Killers" that came out around the same time in the 90s.
On September 30th, 1995, a 21-year-old Prince Naseem Hamed stopped Steve Robinson in round 8 in Cardiff, Wales, to capture the WBO world featherweight title and begin his ascent into superstardom. Robinson was down once in the 5th as well.
Credit: Boxing News Online
"Cynics who choose not to give Naseem Hamed his due for this impeccable beatdown will point to Steve Robinson and label him a journeyman who got lucky when he won the WBO featherweight title.
Those cynics would be missing the point.
Hamed, only 21 years old, rose in weight to dethrone an established belt-holder in his hometown, one who had beaten Colin McMillan, Paul Hodkinson and Duke McKenzie and one who, even in America, was ranked among the best in the world at 126lbs. Hamed – hit by a coin on his way to the ring – was at his awe-inspiring and spiteful best on this night. It’s likely that Robinson, had he encountered anyone other than Hamed, would have been at his best, too.
Robinson objected to having to fight Hamed. He did not feel Hamed, who had never before fought at feather, deserved the chance and demanded more money that never came."
Man, Hamed was difficult to hit cleanly. I know that Hamed always viewed boxing as "a game of tag", hit and not be hit. Hamed grew up admiring the great British defensive fighter Herol "Bomber" Graham, considering him a major inspiration and patterning his own famous "hands-down" style after Graham's unique, elusive movement. Hamed has publicly praised Graham as one of the best fighters Britain ever produced, calling him a childhood hero and a key influence on his boxing.