On November 25, 1980, at the Superdome in New Orleans, “Sugar” Ray Leonard regained the WBC welterweight title by handing the legendary Roberto Durán a shocking and humiliating defeat. What left the roughly 25,000 spectators stunned was not so much the result itself, but the way it unfolded: a sudden and bewildering mid-fight surrender by the reigning world champion. Exactly 45 years after that historic event, we revisit how it happened and the stories behind it.
The Risk of Feeling Invincible: Roberto Durán and the Excess Weight
The extraordinary first fight in Montreal — which, for intensity, quality, and balance, can be considered one of the greatest in boxing history — left Durán with the conviction that he was unbeatable.
The Panamanian allowed himself to slip into a reckless lifestyle and, according to his longtime manager Carlos Eleta, reached 183 pounds before beginning training for the rematch. Getting back into shape was no easy task: according to his assistant trainer Freddie Brown, two weeks before the fight Manos de Piedra still weighed 160 pounds — the middleweight limit.
It is no surprise, then, that immediately after the official weigh-in, Durán gulped down a large quantity of fluids to rehydrate a body almost drained by the effort. Eleta’s claim that the champion also used diuretics in the days leading up to the weigh-in, however, was always denied by Durán and by his personal physician Orlando Nunez.
Stubborn but Versatile: The Dual Nature of Ray Leonard
After his narrow defeat in Canada, Ray Leonard parted ways with his long-time mentor Dave Jacobs, who had trained him as an amateur and later served as assistant coach in the professional ranks. Jacobs suggested that Leonard take a couple of tune-up fights before going after the rematch, but Leonard — determined to avenge himself as soon as possible — refused, leading Jacobs to resign.
Despite his stubbornness in wanting to follow his own instincts, the American superstar was more than willing to let his brilliant trainer Angelo Dundee reshape him to avoid repeating the mistakes that had cost him his title.
Dundee believed strongly that Leonard had played right into Durán’s hands by accepting a brawl and allowing him to thrive in wild exchanges, especially during the early rounds. He prepared instead an alternative strategy based on constant movement, patience, and counterpunching.
No Más
Anyone who had watched their first encounter struggled to recognize the two fighters during the early rounds of their rematch. The audacious warriors who had hurled themselves at each other in Montreal from the opening bell, trading blows of unbelievable ferocity, were now cautious, studying one another, and slow to ignite.
Leonard carefully followed his tactical plan: lure Durán in, neutralize his early pressure, and wear him down over time. Less understandable was Durán’s behavior — seemingly flat, unresponsive, and repeatedly caught with counters whenever he tried to lead.
Even when the Panamanian pushed forward in the third and fourth rounds, trying to impose his usual style by forcing Leonard against the ropes, his attempts brought little success. He soon returned to occupying the center of the ring without purpose — like a feline deprived of its claws.
Leonard did not force the pace at first, still wary of a foe whose full power he had experienced five months earlier. But as the minutes passed, he understood he could seize command, and in the seventh round he launched his personal show: mocking faces, dances, provocative head movements, and dramatic arm windmills.
Contrary to what is sometimes said, Durán did not quit during these taunts; Leonard returned to fighting seriously in the eighth round and landed several hard shots. Only then — according to the account — did the champion utter the most famous words ever spoken in a boxing ring: the infamous “No Más.”
The Famous Phrase and the Mystery Behind the Sudden Surrender
The conditional is necessary because Durán has never confirmed saying those words, which remain inseparably tied to the fight in the public imagination. On the contrary, he has always denied it. The phrase was reported to the press by referee Octavio Meyran, who has repeated his version every time he has been asked.
More than the phrase itself, however, the focus of debate has long been the real motive behind Durán’s sudden withdrawal. Curiously, the first rumor around ringside after the chaotic stoppage claimed he had misunderstood a referee instruction — a theory quickly dismissed. Minutes later, WBC president José Sulaimán offered his version: Durán had confided that he suffered a shoulder injury.
What the now-former champion officially told the media was that he had been forced to quit due to stomach cramps, likely caused by overeating after the weigh-in. Durán has stuck to this explanation ever since, and Ray Leonard — seeing that the Panamanian never changed his story — eventually came to believe him.
Not everyone accepted the cramp story. Carlos Eleta forcefully denied that Durán’s pre-fight meal was any larger than usual, while Fabio Matos — a friend of Durán who was with him at ringside — later revealed that once they returned to the hotel, Durán privately admitted that he quit because he was being humiliated and couldn’t make anything work.
Many questions about this great fight of the past will remain unanswered. What is clear to observers is that while Leonard displayed a level of confidence and composure far greater than in the first fight, Roberto Durán did not seem to possess the same hunger or overwhelming fighting fury that defined so many chapters of his extraordinary career. What might have happened with a sharp and fully motivated Durán will forever remain a matter of opinion.