Holmes is where the hurt is

When Harry met Larry: Money still talks for a boxing legend who will step into the ring for his 71st bout at the age of 47; Harry Mullan in Copenhagen talks to an enduring and endearing fighter

Larry Holmes has the sort of table-thumping, thigh-slapping laugh which fills a room, and he airs it surprisingly often for a man whose public image is of a bitter and suspicious person who feels the world has never given him credit for his achievements. The former heavyweight champion was in Copenhagen last week to publicise his 29 January fight there against local hero Brian Neilsen, the 71st fight of a career which began 23 years ago and, despite periodic retirement announcements, is still going well enough to command purses in the high six-figures.

At 47 next month, why does he still compete in the hardest game of all? "Money, more money and more money. People think I box for fun too, but I don't. Boxing looks hard to you 'cause you don't do it, but it came natural to me. If I hadn't been a boxer we'd have been on the welfare line. With only a seventh grade education, who was gonna give me a job?"

He has five children, the eldest 28 and the youngest 14, and five grandchildren, and his long-standing relationship with his wife Diane has survived all the pressures and temptations of celebrity and cash. "We have a good understanding in our house," he explains. "I make all the decisions and she makes all the rules, and I got to keep them.

"I been working since I got out of school at 13. I've always had a job. I had my first baby when I was 17, with an older woman, and I've always been able to support my family. I didn't have a lot of money then, but I saved what I had. When everybody thought I was broke, I still had a few bucks in my pocket. I'm not a smart man. I can't tell you what one and one is, but I can tell you what $2 is and what $7m is.

"My breakthrough fight was when I beat Roy Williams in 1976. He was big, strong and hit hard and nobody wanted to fight him. I didn't want to fight him either, but I did. I broke my hand on his jaw, but I won. Two weeks after I got the cast off my arm, they wanted me to fight George Foreman. I said 'Are you crazy?' and turned it down, and I been chasing him ever since."

Holmes won the WBC title in a bitterly contested 15-rounder with Ken Norton in Las Vegas in June 1978. He seemed surprised that the fight is remembered so vividly here, and a flash of the old bitterness surfaced. "You know what, nobody in American wants to admit that was one of the best heavyweight fights of all time? They want to forget about it. They don't want to give Larry Holmes credit.

"Don King promoted me then. He was good for me because I learned a lot, and bad for me because he took the lot. But you know, ain't nobody gonna do something for you for nothing. My first fight I made $63. When I got a fight for $1m that was a lot of money to me, so when somebody wanted half of it I gave it to them. I thought 'Whatever happens, you're not gonna get the $1m, so settle for half of it'.

"Mogens Palle [who promotes Holmes's fight with Neilsen] says 'You never stop negotiating', but that's not true. I'm tough, but when I make a deal, I stand by it. I fought Norton with one good arm. I fought Muhammad Ali with stitches in my eye and a busted hand. I never pull out of fights. Just once, I was due to fight and they wouldn't let me because I had a busted hand, so I gave the promoter his money back.

"I never stuck anybody. I don't have to do that. I've made a lot of money. I've worked hard and I've had some luck, but then the harder you work the luckier you get. I got homes, property, cars and everything's paid off. Hey, I've made $90m. Sure, they stole a lot of my money but I kept what they didn't get, you understand? I don't have to fight no fights no more. The kind of fights I have now are easy - I ain't gonna fight nobody who's gonna hurt me."

Holmes was not always so cautious. He came out of a two-year retirement in 1988 to challenge Mike Tyson, then at his rampaging best, and was butchered in four rounds. Why did he take the fight? "Simple: they paid me $3m and I was building my hotel and wanted the money. It was a business thing - everything is business with me. I knew I couldn't win. I was two years out, two months to get ready. I'd been on the road, singing with my band, drinking wine, drinking beer - how could I get ready in two months to fight Mike Tyson? But I know my job well enough to know that I won't get hurt, even fighting Mike Tyson."

He has respect for Tyson as a fighter, but little sympathy for what happened to him. "Going to jail didn't make Tyson meaner and bitter - it just made him richer. The guy came out of jail and made $60m right off the bat. $60m is a lot of money, but I wouldn't do no three years for it and lose my family. American jails are hard time, man, hard time. Me, I own the jail in my home town [Easton, Pennsylvania] and I own the courthouse and the damn judge too. You come to my courthouse, you're looking at 10-20 minimum," and that laugh booms out again.

He shares most old fighters' contempt for their successors. "When it's time for me to drink wine, I drink wine and have fun. When it's time for me to train, I go train. Look at these guys out there today - they can't fight. I still want to win. I ain't over here to take Palle's money and get my ass whupped. I'm here to take his money and kick this guy's butt.

"I hate to lose. When I fought Earnie Shavers in 1979 he hit me a right hand in the seventh that was so hard I thought my head exploded, but I got up because it's my job, because I want to win. It's a great job, being the champ. I was surprised by that punch because I had him bleeding, his eye hanging out and I was telling him 'Why you want to take more of this? Why don't you quit?' and he said 'I can't quit man - I'm trying to take your title'. I got careless, let my hand drop and he hit me. I don't make those mistakes too much any more, 'cause I'm smarter now."

The Shavers fight was one of many in which I have seen Holmes beg a beaten opponent to quit - most movingly Muhammad Ali, for whom he had respect bordering on veneration. When Ali's corner finally pulled him out after 10 rounds in October 1980, Holmes stood in the centre of the ring and wept. "He was my idol," he says. "He was like a brother. He gave me a job, looked after me. I must have worked a couple of thousand rounds with him, when he was in his prime in '74 and'75. I was with him for four years, boxing with him nearly every day.

"I didn't want to fight him, but it was business and I wasn't gonna cut off my nose to spite my face. I said to him before the fight 'Don't let me hurt you'. I could have knocked him right out, but I didn't want to. I don't want to hurt nobody, and I don't want nobody to hurt me. The only exception was Leon Spinks [whom Holmes stopped in three brutal rounds in a 1981 title defence]. He disrespected my wife and I beat him up, but I don't want to do that no more."

When Holmes met the Irish-American Gerry Cooney in 1982, it was the most overtly racist heavyweight championship match since Jess Willard knocked out Jack Johnson in 1915 - yet he insists there was no animosity. "I went to see Gerry before the fight and told him 'The only people who are gonna get hurt here is you and I. We just gotta get on with the fight. If you win, you're the best and if I win I'm the best. Don't worry about these assholes who're gonna talk about the black shit and the white shit. We don't need that. You're making $10m, I'm making $10m'.

"Let me tell you, I loved Gerry Cooney. I wish there could have been 20 more Gerry Cooneys to fight. I had to fight five black guys to make the money I did for fighting that one white. We're still friends - we did an autograph session a few weeks ago and he's coming to Easton for dinner. I got no time for racism. I don't care if you're white, black, Irish or Jewish. Two of my daughters married white men. I almost married a white girl myself, but she was broke."

He lost his title on a disputed decision to Michael Spinks in 1985, one fight short of equalling Rocky Marciano's perfect record of 49 straight wins. Today, he is philosophical about that verdict, and the equally controversial one Spinks was given in the rematch, which prompted Holmes to tell the Las Vegas judges they "can kiss me where the sun don't shine - my big, black behind". Instead of going over old ground, he breaks into a rap song of his own composition ...

Boxing politics is what we talk about

The only thing worse than being knocked out

Promoter gets the money, the fighter gets the pay

That's how it goes in the boxing game.

Spinks jinx? There wasn't nothing to it

The whole wide world knew he didn't do it

He ran around the ring for 15 rounds

Even Carl Lewis couldn't run him down.

Despite his anger at the time, he professes now to be indifferent to history's view of him. "Whatever people want to say, that's OK by me. I never think about what would have happened if I'd fought Marciano or somebody. Why would I put my head through that?

"When people mention my name 10 years, 20 years from now I hope they say good things, but it doesn't bother me. I've left my legacy, and now I want to enjoy life. I want to go fishin', and when my wife ain't around I want to chase girls," and he laughs with a Frank-Bruno-style bass rumble that rattles the widening arc of glasses on the restaurant table.

Holmes on Ali

I said to him before the fight: "Please don't let me hurt you". I could have knocked him right out, but I didn't want to

Holmes on Shavers

He hit me with a right hand that was so hard I thought my head exploded, but I got up because it's my job

Holmes on Tyson

The guy came out of jail and made $60m right off the bat.

I wouldn't do no three years for it and lose my family