In 2013, Deontay Wilder proudly declared to me that he consisted solely of muscle, bone, and skin. He further demonstrated this by revealing the tip of his whip.
The whip being referred to is neither as sinister nor sexual as it may appear, and it has no connection whatsoever to automobiles. Instead, this whip represents a punching technique that boasts a flawless knockout record of 100 percent. According to its owner, the secret lies in the tip of the punch, which distinguishes it from all others.
“Step back,” Wilder commanded, swiftly assuming an orthodox stance next to the heavy bag, poised to unleash a burst of energy. “Observe.”
After revving up his right arm, locking and loading, he unleashed a powerful punch – a cross to most, but a cannonball to him.
Whoosh.
Thwack.
After delivering a forceful blow to the bag, Wilder, the 27-year-old heavyweight from Alabama, turned towards me with a touch of humor. “In my hometown, they often compare my punches to a whip,” he explained. “And you know, the most excruciating part of a whip is its tip. That’s where I inflict the most harm, right at the end of my punches. Just like the tip of a whip.”
Frank Joseph, a boxing agent who had previously assisted Wilder with his training, stood nearby at that moment. He was frustrated by his sudden inability to hold a plastic cup of coffee steady. Joseph waited for his trembling hands to settle, as the repetitive beat of Wilder relentlessly pounding the heavy bag filled the air. Over the sound, Joseph expressed his endorsement, exclaiming, “Just by looking at my hands, you can see the immense power of his punches.” He offered his hands for inspection, stating, “When you hold pads for someone with such force, you feel it long after. But I’ve never experienced such intense shaking before. His power is truly intimidating.”
To provide additional evidence, the presence of coffee stains scattered on the floor, combined with the noticeable imprints on the bag, conveyed a story of their own.
“Ceasing his assault on the bag, Wilder confidently asserted, “My strength is purely innate. I never deliberately aim to knock opponents out. From the very beginning, I’ve possessed the natural ability to deliver powerful punches and exhibit exceptional strength.”
When I used to play American football and weighed 185 pounds, I would lift weights equal to those lifted by the largest guys on the team. It was quite surprising for everyone to see a small and skinny guy like me doing the same exercises as the bigger players.
Mark Robinson from Matchroom Boxing captured Deontay Wilder in anticipation of his upcoming match against Zhilei Zhang on Saturday.
On that particular day and month, Wilder was given full freedom to do as he pleased. He unleashed his power through hitting things, strutting around with confidence, delivering passionate speeches, and shouting with exuberance. His presence brought life to otherwise dull rooms. What’s more, his reputation as boxing’s elusive force, once doubted like the Loch Ness monster, had now been solidified with an impressive streak of 29 consecutive knockouts. This authenticity allowed him to proudly display his skills in a London gym, without the fear of anyone criticizing his technique, belittling his victories against weaker opponents, or simply urging him to quiet down and stop hitting the punching bag so forcefully. The chant “BOMB SQUAD!” echoed through the gym, enhancing the atmosphere.
However, it wasn’t always like that.
When Wilder first arrived in London two years earlier to spar Haye before his fight against Wladimir Klitschko, he never could have imagined being in the same gym, teaching and preaching, and casually discussing tips and techniques as if he were at a family gathering. The Wilder from back then, at the age of 25, was a completely different person. He was raw and lacked confidence, even though he possessed the athleticism of a basketball player. He was still trying to figure out how to utilize this athleticism in the boxing ring. He was unpredictable, full of excitement, and often careless. Despite this, he managed to keep Haye on his toes without causing any harm.
On the other hand, beyond the boxing arena, he exuded a pleasant, humble, and polite demeanor. He expressed gratitude for the chance he had been given. Despite being relatively unknown, his stature and amateur accomplishments (including an Olympic bronze medal in 2008, which was no small achievement) were the only reasons he had been approached. And he conducted himself accordingly, without any pretentiousness or arrogance, always accommodating to Haye’s requests and showing respect for the fact that it was his gym and his city. In summary, he was a joy to be around.
However, by 2013, he had undergone a transformation. Although he remained delightful, the noticeable change was that his presence was announced before he even appeared. The streets were filled with warnings of “BOMB SQUAD!” – a fearless and risky declaration in the present era. Wilder, who was once a student, had now emerged as a formidable contender rather than just a practice partner. He was determined to showcase his significant progress and prove to everyone why he was destined to become America’s next heavyweight boxing champion.
Furthermore, whenever Wilder engaged in sparring, which he did consistently during that summer, his sparring sessions stood out amongst any other heavyweight fighters I had witnessed before. He displayed a remarkable level of composure, appearing as cool as ice, effortlessly breezing through rounds with Haye, Mariusz Wach, and Filip Hrgovic. It seemed as though the only consequence of making a mistake would be a minor knee scrape, unlike the other heavyweights who lacked his exuberance. Wilder would become incredibly animated during these rounds, shouting and cheering, generating energy as he unleashed powerful punches with ease. He would goad and provoke each of his sparring partners, urging them to push themselves further, and even offering words of encouragement if he noticed their energy waning, feeling somewhat offended by their lack of enthusiasm. With his mouthguard in place, he would mutter, “Come on, champ, let’s keep going! This is The Champ’s camp!”
Deontay Wilder (Mikey Williams/Top Rank)
Wilder’s second performance was so impressive that one would desperately search for any flaws or mistakes just to balance things out. Whenever Haye landed a powerful right hand or Wach confronted Wilder against the ropes, one would find solace in these moments. Their attention would then shift from Wilder’s hands to his legs, which seemed weak compared to his 225-pound body. The thought of how long he would last in a kickboxing or boxing match if someone landed a clean hit on his jaw would arise. His smaller legs would be seen as a sign of his fallibility and humanity.
When asked about it later, Wilder clarified his perspective, stating, “I consistently emphasize the importance of not making judgments based solely on appearance. Although my legs may appear thin, they are in fact composed entirely of muscle. My physique consists of muscle, bone, and skin, similar to someone like Thomas Hearns. Despite not having the largest legs, he possessed incredible strength and power.”
If one were unable to argue, they would inevitably return to the notion that in the absence of formidable opponents, Wilder’s performance becomes questionable. The prevailing belief is that if he were to face a worthy adversary, Wilder might become disconcerted and unstable. In fact, he might even struggle to go the full distance.
He stated, “The manner in which fights unfold is determined by the different styles of the fighters involved. However, throughout my career, I have nullified all the styles I have faced by delivering powerful blows. Once my opponents experience the impact of my punches, their style becomes irrelevant. Even someone like Sergey Liakhovich, who may appear effective and resilient against other opponents, had not encountered the level of power I possess. The outcome of our match is evident.”
We did.
However, in case you require a reminder similar to Liakhovich’s fate, it is worth mentioning that he swiftly vanished from the ring in a mere 104 seconds after being struck by a single right hand, assuming a fetal position. If additional evidence of Wilder’s immense power is necessary, we have witnessed the consequences endured by Bermane Stiverne, Artur Szpilka, Gerald Washington, Johann Duhaupas, Luis Ortiz (twice), Dominic Breazeale, and Robert Helenius a decade after Wilder’s trip to London, all of whom suffered greatly upon encountering the force of Wilder’s punch.
