Man, 1981 really wasn’t Larry Holmes’ year for a popularity contest—not like it ever really was for a guy following in the swaggering footsteps of Muhammad Ali. Holmes was undeniably top-notch in the ring, but if there was an award for pissing people off just by existing? He might have taken gold there too. Just six months before he was supposed to brawl with Trevor Berbick, Larry had the unfortunate pleasure of putting a 38-year-old Ali out of commission. And honestly? The match turned out to be one those awkward family dinners you never want to remember. Why did I even bring that up? It’s like history couldn’t just leave Larry alone, you know?
Anyway, right from the get-go, people weren’t exactly lining up to buy tickets to see Larry. I mean, Holmes had nothing going for him in the popularity department, especially after people still mourning Ali’s career’s curtain call. And even though Holmes was the undisputed heavyweight beast at the time, comparing him to Ali was like putting grape jelly next to caviar. Nobody was that thrilled.
Picture the scene at Caesars Palace: Ali, battered by Holmes, in a stadium fit for kings—25,000 roaring fans. Meanwhile, just six months later, Holmes versus Berbick? They might as well have held it in a high school gym because only about 5,000 people showed up. And you know Berbick wasn’t helping the hype. Just a Canadian champ with more losses than wins that anyone cared to remember. But us boxing folks? We love an underdog story, don’t we? Yeah, Berbick was made fun of, but Holmes didn’t just roll over.
So, this match starts, and what does Berbick do? He gets in Larry’s face, taunts him like he thought he was in some cheesy sports movie. I had to laugh when he dropped his hands and shouted “C’mon, baby!” at Holmes. Classic! I mean, you’ve got guts, I’ll give him that. And Holmes—angry, jittery Larry Holmes—gives him a shove for it. Honestly, if you weren’t into boxing, you’d have thought these guys were arguing over a parking ticket.
Things got wild by round two. Berbick, fighting like he’s not even phased, actually lands some punches that make you flinch watching. But, of course, Holmes isn’t having any of that and lands a wallop that buckled Berbick’s legs. Berbick bounces back like one of those weeble-wobbles—you know the kind of toy your grandma would have? Just when you think you know what’s coming next, something else surprises you. That’s boxing for you.
And the crowd eats it up, cheers and all. By round seven, we’re seeing Berbick corner Holmes, and the two are just going at it, really exchanging blizzards of fists. Man, it was like something right out of Hollywood. I swear, you couldn’t write it better. But Berbick? He’s still kind of playing the fool because he doesn’t even realize Holmes is leading this train.
So somewhere around round eight or nine, it feels like things slow down for a power nap, and then boom—Berbick’s back at it. It’s a rollercoaster, folks. Holmes is finally pissed. He lets his fists do the talking in round ten, hurling punches but Berbick’s taking hits like they’re love taps.
Now round eleven, Holmes is dominating with his jab while Berbick’s trying hard not to lose his head. And then, the final few rounds, Berbick’s, I don’t know, just going for broke. The crowd by now? They don’t even know where to look, it was chaos in slo-mo. Each punch was like thunder and the crowd was electric. I remember thinking how wild this all was, not just the fight but how we all got swept into it.
In the end? Holmes retains the title. I guess that’s just how it goes. He sums it up himself, saying, “Guess you can’t underestimate anyone.” Seems fitting.
And Berbick? His grin could light up a room, saying now everyone knows he’s a fighter. Oh yeah, he gets his chance at the title again but Mike Tyson… well, a whole ‘nother mess. Seeing as Holmes and Berbick both kept fighting past their prime—it’s like being repeatedly told you’ve overstayed your welcome at a party. But man, the chaos of their brawl years later in Florida, Holmes jumping off a car to tackle Berbick, it’s like it somehow means more than the fight ever did.
Guess society’s a whole boxing match itself, all strange and unpredictable—can’t say I know what it all boils down to, but there it is, the beautiful mess we call sport.
