Hate Him All You Want, Devin Haney Doesn’t Care

The 25-year-old is one of the most polarizing figures in boxing—and he embraces the jeers.

Everybody hates Devin Haney. Well, some people. At least in boxing. Any list of the sport’s most polarizing figures includes Haney. Most have him at the top. Critics include Shakur Stevenson (“soft,” Stevenson tweeted at Haney recently), Gervonta Davis (“Email champ”) and Regis Prograis (“Manufactured”), the latter of whom will face Haney for a version of the 140-pound title Saturday.

“I don’t know what it is,” says Haney. “But I embrace it.”

Some of it’s easy to understand. “Jealousy,” says Lou DiBella. DiBella, the Hall of Fame promoter, co-promoted Haney’s last three fights. He was there when Haney took the lightweight belts off George Kambosos Jr. in Australia. He was ringside when Haney defended his undisputed 135-pound status against Kambosos months later. And he was in Las Vegas when Haney won a narrow decision against Vasiliy Lomachenko.

Haney, who was born in San Francisco, thinks the crowd will be with him during his fight Saturday, but his opponent claims otherwise.  :: Courtesy of Melina Pizano/Matchroom

“The motherf---er is 25 and undisputed champion,” says DiBella. “Everybody wants that.”

Some of it’s not. There’s a perception among some that Haney had it easy. Prograis thinks so. In the buildup to this fight—and the buildup has been really, really good—Prograis has picked at Haney’s past. He’s needled him about growing up with money. About never having a job. Prograis didn’t pick up boxing until he was 17. At the same age, Haney, a decorated amateur, was turning pro.

“He had it easy,” says Prograis. “[He] had an easy, privileged life.”

Haney, unsurprisingly, disagrees. Boxing, he says, is his life. He dropped out of school in the seventh grade to focus on boxing. He didn’t have a major promoter guiding his early years. He went to Mexico. His first four fights were at a pool hall in Tijuana. “My dressing room was a closet,” says Haney. He fought several more in hotels, bars and small gyms.

In Mexico he knew who he was fighting. But he didn’t really know. Before his fourth fight, he thought his opponent looked familiar. He told his father, Bill, that he believed he had fought him before. Bill laughed it off. Devin looked down at his opponent’s shoes, which he recalls being distinctive. “To this day,” says Haney, “I think I beat the same guy twice.”

What Haney has enjoyed is rare career freedom. He went to Mexico on his own. He made it on significant cards—his first U.S. fight was the opener of the third fight between Manny Pacquiao and Tim Bradley—without being forced to sign with a promoter. He made appearances on Showtime … without a major promoter. “He’s made some very smart career moves,” says DiBella. “The Haneys know what they are doing.”

Even when Haney signed with a promoter he maintained a measure of control. He signed with Matchroom in 2019. He fought six times and won his first world title. “Made a ton of money, too,” says DiBella. In ’22, he signed with DiBella and Top Rank for the opportunity to fight Kambosos. He rejoined Matchroom this year, accepting the offer to fight Prograis, arguably the top fighter at 140.

“Easy?” asks Haney? “Come on. Nothing I’ve done has been easy.”

Prograis will not be easy. He’s a career-long junior welterweight. His one loss was a majority decision defeat to Josh Taylor. He’s won five straight since then, regaining a piece of the 140-pound title. At a press conference Thursday, Prograis promised violence. “I’m going to hurt your son,” Prograis said to Bill. When Haney, who was born in San Francisco, talked about fighting in his hometown, Prograis was quick to point out how briefly Haney, who moved to Nevada when he was 7, actually lived there. “You from Henderson, Nevada,” Prograis said. “Private school kid.”

Haney smiled. It’s not fun being hated. But it can be lucrative. Floyd Mayweather Jr. was a villain for much of his career. His career earnings reportedly topped $1 billion. There are similarities between Haney and Mayweather. Both are master boxers. Both faced criticism for defensive styles. Haney says he will make $6 million to face Prograis. It will be his second straight fight headlining a pay-per-view. Haney has never fought in the Bay Area. On Saturday, the Chase Center, which has never hosted a boxing event, will be sold out.

“Just incredible,” said Eddie Hearn, the promoter of the event. “There hasn’t been big-time boxing here for over a decade here in San Francisco. … This fight has caught fire.”

Indeed. The crowd will be there for Haney … he thinks. Prograis, a New Orleans native, has insisted that he is the draw. Whatever. For Haney, it’s an opportunity. To burnish his résumé. To swell his bank account. To prove he is the best fighter in the world. Whether it comes with applause or jeers doesn’t seem to matter.

“They hate the greats,” says Haney. “And then after they respect them and they applaud them. So they can say what they want to say. I know the type of fighter I am. I’m secure in myself and I’m going to keep beating whoever they put in front of me, one by one.”