“Never a step back” is a motto that some boxers could easily have stamped on their ID cards under “distinguishing marks.” These are the fighters with boundless heart, who build their victories through relentless pressure, advancing and striking continuously, regardless of the opponent’s reputation. We Italians have been fortunate to witness some exceptional punchers with this inexhaustible drive, turning every match into a battle, every round into a rollercoaster of emotions. Among them, the unforgettable “Ring Warrior” Luigi Minchillo holds a special place in our memories for the thrills he gave us, even when facing absolute legends like Roberto Duran, Thomas Hearns, and Mike McCallum.
Had a cruel aneurysm not taken him from us a year and a half ago, Minchillo would have turned 70 today. In the hope of honoring his loved ones and all those who admired his sporting achievements and immense human qualities, we are republishing an interview Luigi gave to the author of this article in January 2021.
The first part of your professional career was explosive: out of your first 36 fights, you won 35, first claiming the Italian title and then the European championship. What are your memories of that magical night in Formia when you took the continental crown from the Frenchman Acaries?
“It was quite a tough match. The Frenchman did very little work until the eighth round, but he came on strong in the last three or four rounds, perhaps thinking he could win due to my fatigue. That wasn’t the case, so there were no issues with the verdict.”
Many in your position, fighting in the United States for the first time against a legend like Roberto Duran, would have been focused solely on avoiding punishment. Instead, you started with a furious pace, even managing to hurt the Panamanian champion and forcing him into ten grueling rounds. How much did you believe in victory?
“Every time I stepped into the ring, I always did so with the intention of winning. I never backed down, simply because I was a pressure fighter. If a pressure fighter decides to run away to avoid being hit, he has already lost before even stepping into the ring. So I was almost forced to adopt that kind of strategy because it was in my nature, and I couldn’t go against it.
As for that particular fight, I had the chance to talk about it with Roberto Duran himself last year. He was in Italy as a guest at the Trento Sports Festival, so I had the opportunity to see him again—this time outside the ring. I told him he had been unfair because he used his thumbs: I fought the last four or five rounds without being able to see him, as he kept poking me in the eyes with his thumbs. He didn’t do this just to me—he did it to everyone. If you watch the Hagler vs. Duran fight, you’ll see that Hagler came out with swollen eyes.
Duran admitted it without hesitation, saying, ‘I had to win, so I fought that way.’ I’m not saying I lost because of this. If he had fought cleanly, he probably would have beaten me anyway. But if I had been able to see a little better, maybe I could have done something more.”
Perhaps the greatest victory of your career was the one at Wembley against former world champion Maurice Hope. It was a tough fight from the start, but you grew stronger as the rounds went on and dominated the final stages, successfully retaining your European title. What was the key to that incredible and thrilling comeback?
“The key was the pace. My entire style was based on maintaining a high pace. I won many fights by knockout even though I didn’t have one-punch KO power—I won because my opponents simply couldn’t keep up with my rhythm. Hope was practically knocked out on his feet around the ninth or tenth round, and the only reason the referee didn’t step in was because we were in London. If we had been on neutral ground, the fight might have been stopped. In any case, it was clear that he was struggling to contain me.”
Another electrifying fight was the one against the Yugoslavian slugger Marijan Beneš—a clash between two similar fighters, both courageous and always ready for war. Can we say that the crowd in San Severo gave you the decisive push to win that great battle, which was not without its difficult moments?
“He was the fighter who hurt me the most. More than Duran, more than Hearns, more than McCallum… Their punches were nothing compared to Marijan Beneš. He was like a miniature Tyson—wherever he landed, he left a mark. I was sore all over for two or three months. He was so powerful that his hands were full of old fractures—when you shook his hand, you could feel how crooked it was, because his sheer force had broken his own hands so many times.
The crowd certainly helped me, but his real problem was that I kept coming forward. And despite his incredible power, he was the one who ended up on the canvas, not me. That was my fighting style, whether at home or away. Even when I fought in France or England, I didn’t care about the crowd. If people screamed against me, it just gave me even more motivation to silence them. That’s not to say the crowd doesn’t help, but I was always able to find the right motivation regardless of the support or opposition.”
Your first world title shot came against another Hall of Fame champion, Thomas Hearns. It was an incredibly tough fight in which you once again showed an extraordinary ability to take punches. At the end of the tenth round, for a brief moment, it seemed like Hearns was walking away. What happened in those chaotic moments?
“What happened was that, in that moment, he thought to himself, ‘Damn, I can’t stop this guy, I’ve had enough…’ He raised his arm and walked away. It was instinctive because he had expected the fight to be much easier. When he realized that one, two, three, ten punches weren’t stopping me, and I kept coming forward, he had a moment in that tenth round where he basically told me to f*** off, turned around, and walked toward his corner.
I’ve watched that round so many times! It was very similar to what Roberto Duran did against Sugar Ray Leonard—except Duran quit because Leonard wouldn’t engage in a fight, while Hearns did it because he couldn’t stop me. It was just a brief moment, but it happened. If I had done that, everyone would have said I quit because he was the better fighter. But since it was Hearns, they say it’s impossible.”
Your second world title shot, unfortunately, also saw you face an elite fighter— the outstanding American Mike McCallum, who won after 14 intense rounds. Having faced three legendary fighters in Duran, Hearns, and McCallum, our readers would love to hear your opinion: Who was the best among the three?
“The best fighter I ever faced was Thomas Hearns. That’s not to take anything away from the others—Mike McCallum also proved to be a great champion. Roberto Duran was incredibly good, but he was a lightweight. Even though he managed to become a world champion at welterweight, super welterweight, and middleweight thanks to his skill, he didn’t have real power in those divisions.
If a 30-year-old puts on ten kilos, he doesn’t gain punching power. A 15-year-old boy can grow by ten or fifteen kilos as he matures, but a 30-year-old moving up from lightweight to welterweight, then gaining another ten kilos, then even twelve… well, that wasn’t muscle—it was just weight. He ate too much, didn’t control himself, and was forced to move up in weight. Despite that, his achievements proved he was a great champion. But he could never be on the same level as those who truly hit hard—he simply didn’t have the physical structure for it.”