Greg Page and the curse of being the "Next Big Thing".

How many fighters have been labelled as the next big thing? How many of them then go onto fulfil that promise? Is high expectation a help or a hindrance?

Before Greg Page turned professional, he was not just thought to be the next big thing, he was being talked about as the second coming of The Greatest. There was a unique combination of circumstances that coalesced to produce these forecasts.

It was the tail end of the 1970s and Muhammad Ali was nearing the end of the road. His imminent departure would inevitably leave a massive chasm in the sport, let alone the heavyweight division. The public would be looking for someone to fill that void.

At just this moment, Greg Page was proving himself to be, in the eyes of many, the top amateur heavyweight in the US. When Page made the decision to turn professional, he had won the last two Amateur Athletic Union national heavyweight championships, and the most recent national Golden Gloves title. Translating amateur success into professional glory would seemingly be just the next step.

Then there was the style. In 1977, in Madison Square Garden, Page fought an amateur bout against a Russian, Evgeny Gorstkov. As Page moved about the ring, hands often down by his waist, his speedy jab a potent weapon, the crowd broke out into chants of, “Ali! Ali!”. Who could blame them?

Finally, it just so happened that Page and Ali both originated from Louisville, Kentucky.

What more proof could anyone need? As Ali prepared to exit the stage, Greg Page would inevitably take his place in the starring role as world heavyweight champion.

His professional debut would take place at the Commonwealth Convention Centre, Louisville, Kentucky, on Friday 16 February 1979. His progression through the professional ranks was expected to be rapid. The landscape at the top of the division was in a state of flux.

Larry Holmes was 29 years old and WBC champion. He’d made one defence of the title against Alfredo Evangelista in November 1978 and was scheduled to make his second defence against Ossie Ocasio in March.

The WBA title was held by Ali who had avenged his loss to Leon Spinks with a 15 round points in New Orleans in September 1978. Ali’s boxing future was uncertain, and he would ultimately vacate the title in June 1979.

Page’s debut being billed as “the birth of a champion”, by promoter Butch Lewis. There was a crowd of around 6,000 in the arena and it was broadcast on CBS. Tim Ryan and Angelo Dundee were on hand for commentary duties. It was an event more than a fight.

Responsible for navigating Page’s path to the world title, along with Butch Lewis, was Dennis Page, Greg’s uncle/manager. He saw his role as being very hands on; ensuring that everything outside of the ring was taken care of for the fighter.

“I’ve been clearing the path for Greg to make sure he has everything he needs. To make sure he’s at the proper places at the proper times. To make sure his robe, his trunks and his shoes are just the way he wants them. Because when he comes out tonight, this is his play, and we want everything to be the way he planned it. I think Greg’s going to give them a show. He’s in top condition, he’s sharp.”

Even before Greg had thrown his first professional punch, Dennis was thinking big.

“Maybe when we go for John Tate or one of the big names, the ranked fighters, maybe we’ll try the Freedom Hall. Know what I’d like to do? Derby weekend I’d like to stage a fight here and lure (Teofilo) Stevenson here. I’d love to try and get something like that. We’re going to try and look at all the avenues and see whether it’s possible. This is going to be a heck of a gate… a heck of a gate. If not Stevenson, then someone else. Something to add to the entertainment of that week.”

This type of expectation can weigh heavily on a fighter’s shoulders. Greg Page seemed at times to embrace the Ali comparisons, while on other occasions gave out rather more mixed signals. When Ali had been told that Page was turning professional, the legendary champion heaped praise on his fellow Kentuckian.

“You could possibly go on to surpass my record of becoming a three-time champion.”

Page’s response was curt.

“I don’t plan on losing it the first time.”

Greg acknowledged that there had been a time when he had been bothered by frequently being referred to as the next Ali, but now he claimed that it helped his career, and he was comfortable with it.

“Being compared to Ali is a privilege. It’s hard for anyone to fill Ali’s shoes, but they will be filled.”

His goal was to be world champion within three years.

“Maybe sooner. I wouldn’t mind fighting for the title in my third, fifth or sixth fight, before October. I ain’t worried about Larry Holmes. I ain’t worried about anyone.”

And yet the boy who had first put on boxing gloves at the age of five and was now still just 20, appeared ambivalent about his chosen profession.

“You know what? I hate boxing to an extent. I don’t know why I’m sitting here boxing anybody. I’d rather be playing basketball. That’s my sport. But I can’t let a good thing go. I’m better at boxing. I like boxing when it comes to the training, but that’s all. In maybe a year, a year and a half, I want to open a brick masonry company. Wanted to do it ever since I learnt it at Detrick Vocational Centre. Then, if I had my way, I’d be finished with boxing in five years. I was always a Mama’s boy and stayed around home and I never got to do a lot of what the other guys did. So, I’d like to run a little more.”

Whatever his true feelings, his immediate future was a six-round debut on national television. A dance partner was needed. That man would be Don “Madman” Martin, a former wrestler from Memphis. Martin had made the transition from wrestling to boxing in the hope of better pay.

Promoter Butch Lewis told reporters about the challenge of finding someone willing to face Page.

“I must have called 50 agents and managers before I could make a fight for Greg. No one wanted to fight him. This guy (Martin) is 6ft 4in, 225lbs and has a record of 7-4-1. That’s not too bad.”

Martin had not been the first-choice opponent. Brian Omelia had previously been in line for the fight before being rejected by the Kentucky Athletic Commission, when it was discovered that his reported record of 28-9 was somewhere more in the region of 16-31-2.

Page appeared unconcerned about the opposition.

“It doesn’t matter,” he exclaimed, as he flexed his arms. “I got my two shotguns. Shotgun left and shotgun right. He can’t be too special, can he? Got two hands, a head, eats and breathes like I do. Now, if he comes into the ring with three hands or two heads, I’m leaving. But say he’s normal, like me. Then it’s simple. It’s a matter of who can get his off first.”

Page’s parents, Alice and Albert, along with another ten close family members were at ringside for the contest, such that it was. Alice revealed that she had been a nervous wreck and had nearly not been able to attend. If she had struggled with the thought of seeing her son take punches, she needn’t have worried. The fight was over 36 seconds into the second round.

After entering the ring to the theme from Rocky, Page was in no rush during the opening three minutes of the fight. Bruce Engel, in The Lexington Herald, wrote that the Louisville prospect, “settled into a steady diet of sharp left jabs, reminiscent of Ali at his best.”

Page got down to business in the second round and soon brought the mismatch to a close. A combination of punches bloodied Martin’s cheek before he was dropped by a right hand. Engel again lost his sense of perspective in describing the finish.

“Page came off the ropes to knock out Martin much the same way as Ali defeated George Foreman to regain the heavyweight title in 1974.”

After the fight, Greg told reporters that he had used the first round to size up an opponent that he knew nothing about.

 “He was a mystery man. But in the first round, I knew somebody was in trouble. As you saw, it wasn’t me.”

While the result was predictable given the disparity in talent between the two participants, from ringside Angelo Dundee felt he had witnessed enough in less than four minutes to predict a bright future for Page.

“I see a lot of talent in this kid. I can’t see him missing. He just needs about ten fights.”

But what did he think about Don Martin?

“He should have stayed in wrestling”.

The description of Martin as, “a pathetically inept side of beef” by Peter Coutros of the New York Daily News, would not dampen the spirits of the Page camp.

Greg’s trainer, Leroy Edmerson, was in a state of rapture over his fighter’s left lead.

“That jab is the best thing in the business. If you’ve got a good left, you’ve got a good right. If you’ve got a good right, you’ve got a good left hook. If you’ve got a good left hook, you’ve got a good right hook. It’s steps. One, two, three, four.”

While uncle/manager Dennis had his eyes fixed firmly on the future.

“I thought everything came off very smoothly. I’m thinking about the next one already. I loved the crowd. I appreciated the way they followed Greg. I hope in the future we will be able to give them fights like Tate and Holmes and Bobick – maybe even that South African guy, whatever his name is. I don’t want to pick on the old people, like Norton. I want to pick on the future, not the past. I’m not saying we’re ready for Holmes, but I’d like to give the state that kind of fight.”

Greg Page was now 1-0, having just beaten an opponent who really had no business being in the ring with him. But these types of contests are almost a rite of passage for novice professionals, even those being hailed as the next big thing.

Three years and 18 fights later, Greg Page was still unbeaten and advancing from prospect to contender status. Ali was now gone for good, and Larry Holmes was considered the best heavyweight in the world. Now it was being written that Page was the heir apparent to Holmes, who was already into his thirties.

On a huge show, outdoors in Las Vegas, Holmes was defending his title against Gerry Cooney. Many felt Cooney had the power in his left hook to relieve Holmes of the title, but Larry proved what a master craftsman he was in stopping Cooney in the thirteenth round.

Prior to the main event, Greg Page faced Trevor Berbick over ten rounds on the undercard. Page was the favourite to win, but Berbick had already been underestimated more than once in his career. At the end of ten hard rounds, Trevor Berbick was awarded a unanimous points victory from the three judges. Page may have had the better boxing skills and faster hands, but Berbick had impressed the officials with his aggression and power. He had made Page look very uncomfortable several times throughout the contest.

Howard Cosell was commentating for ABC television. As the rounds ticked by and it became evident that an upset was on the cards, he informed viewers that Greg Page, “is not Muhammad Ali.”

No, he wasn’t. He was never going to be.

Back in 1979 before Page made his debut, Ed Schuyler Jr., writing for the Associated Press, argued that “it won’t hurt Page to be compared to Ali, especially if he is successful in his early pro fights.”

Had that been true? Did the Ali comparisons really help Page?

Ali’s shoes have never been filled and never will be. Page was never going to live up to that hype. Bruce Engel’s repeated allusions to Muhammad Ali in his report of Page’s debut was illustrative of a kind of willing mass self-delusion. Greg Page is a reminder that greatness has to be earnt, not just anointed.

Like so many others before and since, Greg Page fought on too long. He didn’t get out of the sport as a healthy young man and open that masonry company. He was 42 years old by the time of his final fight against Dale Crowe and his record read 58-16-1.

In that contest, Page was stopped in the tenth and final round and suffered severe brain damage. For the remainder of his life, he was partially paralysed and confined to a wheelchair. He died in 2009, after he accidentally slid out of his hospital bed in his home in Louisville and got caught in a position where he was unable to breathe.

When the so-called “lost generation” of heavyweights of the 1980s are discussed, Greg Page’s name is one of the first to be mentioned. They were a group of talented but flawed fighters who for varying reasons never fulfilled the potential that observers saw in them.

But I prefer to remember Page in a more positive light. Greg Page was one of the best heavyweights of the 1980s; a decade dominated by Holmes and then Tyson. He lost some fights he really should have won, but briefly held the WBA title after knocking out Gerrie Coetzee. Not bad for a man who said from day one that he would rather being playing basketball.