Regis Prograis and his enduring love for a ‘super dirty sport’

(Photo: Mark Robinson/Matchroom)

There are plenty of fighters who have been chewed up and spat out by the sport at 35, their dreams over, their ambition absent, their love for boxing – when they wore headgear and a vest and collected small trophies in victory or defeat – a distant memory.

Those trophies meant the world. A sign of dreams, of facing down fear, of accomplishment. They were pure, unsullied by professional politics, earned by passion and love.

Often, at 35, a boxer who has been in the sport longer as a pro than as an amateur, the feelings change and hunger and desire is replaced by a business-like, borderline depressed cynicism.

But as Regis Prograis, wearing a plain white T and a beige baseball cap, prepares to answer questions in another boxed off 10-minute interview slot on Zoom, there is a child-like enthusiasm in his eyes. 

He’s travelling to Manchester as the opponent for fellow junior welterweight contender Jack Catterall, and he has felt the stick of the sport while sampling its many carrots.

Yet despite his second consecutive fight date coming in an opponent’s hometown, and although he no longer wears a world title he has twice had around his waist, he still has an urge to fight.   

In Prograis’ office, in his home in New Orleans, there are framed pictures of loved ones, trophies, medals, books and fight credentials.

And the veteran southpaw, surrounded by memories, is excited by the task at hand. Yes, he is heading to the UK on business, but that also happens to be a pleasure.

“I’ve still got the juices flowing, definitely. I’m still hungry,” says Prograis, who is 29-2 with 24 stoppages. “My thing is, I want to be three-time champion. I have another goal at first, when I have the belt. I kinda didn’t care about it at first, but when I want something and I establish a goal, I’m kinda hungry for it. I’m doing the things that got me there in the first place.”

Of course, at his age and with his experiences he is nearer the end than the start of his career, but knowing that time might be called sooner than later, he is asked whether, if he was to retire now, he would be satisfied.

“Originally, yes,” he pauses for thought and responds, “I did accomplish what I wanted to accomplish in boxing, and I invested real well and stuff, but I still have so much to go and I just really love the sport. I tell people all the time, I really just love the sport. I love boxing. I love watching boxing. That’s just what I like to do, and I still have so much gas in the tank left. I can’t see myself leaving right now.”

Chorley’s Catterall, who he fights on Saturday at the new Co-op Live Arena in Manchester, will be keen to show Prograis the way out but Prograis has no intention of walking. Instead, the American believes Catterall is merely a stepping stone in his bid to further his career and fulfil fresh ambitions and achieve targets that have gradually altered since he started out.

“Obviously, when you start boxing you want to become champion,” Prograis explains. “When I started boxing, I just wanted to be the best out of my city, you know. Not even nothin’. Then I started moving around, like man, I want to be the best amateur or somethin’. Alright, then my goals changed. I wanted to become a pro, not even be a champion. I did that, and I remember early on in my career I was sparring guys that were on ShoBox, and I was whuppin’ them, and I was like, ‘Damn, if these dudes are fightin’ on ShoBox, and I’m beatin’ them, then how far can I go?’ And I just kept progressing more and more and I was like, ‘Alright, I can be a champion.’

“I always thought I could be a champion because of my talent and my skill but I didn’t know if I actually can achieve that, because life gets in your way. You might have to take care of your mother, your grandmother, anything like that… But, luckily, I went on and I became a champion and then, after I lost it, I was like, ‘Damn. I should still be a champion. I’m gonna do it again. I’m gonna be a two-time champion’. So now it’s like, what else can I do? That’s the stage we’re at right now. I’m gonna be a three-time champion. My goals keep changin’.”

While some fighters fall out of love with the sport, or lose the passion, Prograis can still be found in his office studying tape, watching the likes of Manny Pacquaio, Mike Tyson, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Joe Louis for inspiration or educating himself by watching Roberto Duran, Zab Judah and Pernell Whitaker.

While he holds the sport’s legends in such high regard, his view of Catterall is infinitely more modest. He is as blunt as he is complimentary when discussing the awkward English southpaw from Chorley.

“He’s a decent fighter,” Prograis says at the same time as mustering a sigh. “For me, he’s a decent fighter. Like I keep saying, he’s just not on my level but he’s a decent fighter. The only thing he’s got for me is the Josh Taylor thing, what else? He’s got two close fights with Josh Taylor, he won the first one I definitely feel… Like they gave it to Josh Taylor, the second one was closer but they felt like they owed him and they gave it to him. But, you look at it besides that, what does Jack Catterall have on his resume? I can’t see nothin’. I really can’t see nothin’.”

Catterall is 29-1 (13 KOs) and his last three fights are made up of victories over Darragh Foley, Jorge Linares and Taylor. The return with the Scot was in May, and this fight with Prograis was due to take place last month until Catterall picked up an injury in training, forcing its postponement.

The belief is that the momentum is with Catterall, while the emphatic nature of Prograis’ loss to Devin Haney in December – during which he was floored in round three – might have contributed to many believing that he could be on the wrong side of the hill.

Does Prograis believe he is meeting Catterall at his best?

“Maybe, I don’t know what his peak is. It’s hard for me to judge. It just doesn’t matter to me. All that stuff, it just really doesn’t matter.”

Then where does Prograis think he is in his own career? 

“I feel like I’m getting to my peak. I’m 35 and that’s considered old, but at the same time I started boxing late and I took care of my body. I don’t do nothin.’ I don’t smoke, drink, do no drugs, do nothing like that, I eat the right foods, most of the time year-round, always doing what I have to do and basically I feel good. I can’t say if I’m at my peak or not, I just feel good.”

Upon signing with Matchroom, Prograis fought and defeated Danielito Zorrilla, winning a split decision in New Orleans.

But Haney was in San Francisco, Haney’s hometown, and now Prograis is on the road facing Catterall in Manchester, less than an hour from Catterall’s home.

Prograis is mature enough to see the sport’s snakes and ladders, the pitfalls and the upsides. Sure, he has a passion for boxing, but he is not naïve to the business. For many, a move to Matchroom would be the dream, but Prograis views it as a transactional relationship. 

“At the time I think that was the best option. I do,” he reflects. “That was the best option at the time. When you look at it with hindsight, maybe something else could have been good, but I think that was probably the best option, and I’m happy. I’m cool with them.

“Sometimes we might not get along that much, but at the same time, listen, that’s how it’s supposed to be. I’m old enough… I’m not 20, 25… I understand. It’s not personal, it’s all business. I understand. A lot of fighters don’t understand and they call Eddie [Hearn] a bitch. Listen, this is not personal. These are not my friends. I don’t talk to them on the phone like that. I understand. This is only a business and, if they can’t profit off you, why would they even want to talk to you? So I know this.”

But with Haney in San Francisco and Catterall in Manchester, it is a significant ask for someone of Prograis’ stature to go on the road and face the odds.    

“Yeah, basically,” Prograis admits. “That’s what they gave me. Especially this. I understand the San Francisco thing. So, when I signed with them, I basically didn’t have a manager. I was doing everything myself. Now, I have a manager [Brian Peters] that’s going to take care of everything, so maybe looking at it in hindsight, I probably should have had a manager that’s directing me to do things, but now I have that again. At first, I didn’t. I was kinda just doing everything myself and that was a kind of a distraction. But you look at the money and with the San Francisco thing they were telling me I was going to get this and I was going to get this, I was gonna get all this stuff and you’re driven by that. And now with this, that’s what they told me, ‘Look, you’re gonna do this or there’s nothin’ else for you. It’s Jack Catterall in Manchester or it’s nothin’ else’. Now, looking back, same thing, hindsight, there’s probably gonna be something else out there for me, but I took on the opportunity and I understand what’s at risk. But I understand, when you have a lot of risk, you have a lot of reward also. I’m just up for it because I just don’t think Jack is a threat to me.”

Beforehand, Prograis was with the ill-fated Probellum, a reincarnation of a previous set-up, MTK Global, with links to Irish drug kingpin and now one of the world’s most wanted men, Daniel Kinahan

Ironically, Catterall was also once a Probellum fighter.

With hindsight again, does Prograis regret that move?

“No, not really,” he replies. “That’s what they had. Probellum, they told me at the time, ‘Listen, you’re gonna be active’. Three things they promised me, they told me I was gonna be active, they told me I was gonna fight around the world and they told me they were gonna get me to the belt again, I was gonna be a champion again. That’s three things I wanted, to stay active at that time, they told me three fights in a year, cool, we can do that, I’ll fight all over the world. My first fight was in Dubai, that was awesome, and they told me I was gonna be a champion again and we’ll get you that belt some type of way, you’ll fight for that belt again, and I did that. I was happy with them.”

Defeating Jose Zepeda for the vacant WBC junior welterweight belt in Carson was the pinnacle for Prograis so far. Zepeda was dropped and stopped in round 11 for Prograis to snare his second world title. 

“I waited so long,” he says, of why it meant so much. “I waited three years to get the belt again, and I had opportunities to go up to 147 and make a lot of money and I turned it down because I wanted to be champion again. It’s kind of like the same thing I’m going through now, I want to be a three-time champion. I can do all kinds of other stuff, but I really want to become a three-time champion. Obviously Zepeda was the opponent, but no matter who I fought, being a two-time champion was special to me.”

It was in 2019 when Prograis last visited the UK and he tasted defeat, by the narrowest of margins, through 12 breathless, hard, gritty but incredibly-crafted rounds with the aforementioned Taylor. The Scot won a majority decision and Prograis, who lost his IBF title, learned that he can fight in the trenches as and when required although it is not something he is intent on proving every time he fights.

“I feel like I can do it if I need to. If I need to do that, bite down and do that stuff, I feel like I do have a lot of power and I can end stuff,” he says. “If I need to, I can end it. But it all depends what the fighter brings to me. I can do it, but sometimes you don’t need to do it. It’s about being smarter instead of training harder, it’s about being smarter. I can do it if I need to, I can do it any time. We can put our hands up and we can just go at it, if I need to do that, but only if I need to.”

Prograis turned pro 12 years ago. While he contends the journey is far from over, you can tell his mind has been shaped by the business. He has become a skeptic, likely based on his own experiences and everything he has seen during that time.

Two weeks ago, Prograis dropped a video calling out the Voluntary Anti-Doping Association for only testing him once for Catterall so far. But it is down to the promoters to pay for the testing, unless the fighters choose to do so themselves. For some, the cost of VADA testing is deducted from their purses.   

“I’m glad you asked me,” Prograis goes on, as we accelerate well beyond our 10-minute allocation. “They actually came to my house today. VADA woke me up this morning, got me out of my bed, I had to piss for them. Luckily I had a pee and we got it out the way real fast. It was like, my last camp, my last fight against Devin, they tested me I think six or seven times. One day it was so aggravating, they tested me one day and then I went to a fight the next day and that’s when I was out in LA training, and the people from VADA was there and I was, ‘Hey, what’s up? You gonna test me?’ Playing with them, and they said, ‘Yeah, we are’. And I’m like, ‘Y’all serious? Really?’ They tested me the day before and at the fight I saw them I thought they were coming for other fighters and they came and tested me, so yeah, I think I got tested six or seven times. It was every week or something like that. Now, in this fight, I only got tested once. That’s why I was sayin’ what’s going on? It’s kind of strange that you’re testing me six times for one fight, and testing me one time for another fight. Today was the second one.”

Prograis felt VADA were prompted by his video, that it was no coincidence that he was tested the day after it was posted, but regardless of that singular situation, Prograis is under no illusions about just how problematic performance enhancing drugs in boxing are.

You cannot finish asking him if they are common in the sport without him interrupting. 

“Absolutely. For sure. It’s not just prevalent, I think most people do it,” he snaps. “My coach [Bobby Benton], he told me a long time ago, he said ‘most or all of them are cheatin’’ – and I don’t put nothin’ into my body. They ask me what supplements [I take]… I don’t take nothin’. I literally don’t take nothin’. All natural, juices, all that stuff, so I don’t do anything at all. I don’t take anything over the counter… Nothing. At all. For me, I just thought all fighters were like that. Especially old school fighters. But my coach is like, ‘Listen, all fighters are cheatin’. And I’m like, ‘Damn’, I never believed him. But he’s been in the game since he was a little kid. His daddy was training him, he saw all of them, most of the greats, and most of them were doing stuff and if you think most of these guys are doing stuff, who can I even look up to then? That’s the thing. If all these guys are doing something, legends were doing it, it’s hard for me to accept because I can’t even look up to nobody because a lot of people are doing stuff.”

In one of the most high-profile instances, Haney was dropped three times and beaten by Ryan Garcia in his first fight after outpointing Prograis. The dramatics and theatrics around Haney-Garcia rumble on, being played out daily on social media and in lawsuits. While there was bad blood between Prograis and Haney’s team before their fight rolled around, Prograis has little sympathy for Haney, who is suing Garcia for battery – among other things – in the courts in New York. 

Matter of factly, Prograis says: “My heart don’t go out to him [Haney] at all. My heart definitely don’t go out to him.”

The bitterness is in relation to Haney rehydrating to 165lbs when he fought Prograis, one day after weighing in at the division limit of 140. On fight night he was almost 10lbs heavier than Prograis, who rose to 156.8lbs.

“I always feel like what go around come around and with him,” Prograis explains. “I don’t want to say he was on PEDs, I can’t say that he was on anything, but he was as far as the weight goes, he wasn’t the right weight he was supposed to be on fight night [when he fought Prograis]. That’s what happened. But I don’t feel sorry for him, but at the same time, what Ryan did wasn’t right either. It’s not like a sympathy thing, for me it is what it is. I’m not a Team Garcia or Team Haney, I’m just like it is what it is. Whatever.” 

It is just another wrinkle in a flawed business, but one that Prograis cannot stop loving and one he is far from done in, yet.

Ethically, however, should cheating in boxing be perceived differently to other sports? It is one thing to throw an object farther, to run faster or jump higher, it is another thing to punch another person in the face with more might, to cause more damage, either short or long term.

“It should be,” Prograis shrugs incredulously. “But I think a lot of people look at it like, ‘He’s doing it, so I’m gonna do it’ so maybe they think it’s going to be even. But it’s a serious thing. You can hurt someone. There’s brain damage going on and stuff like that and they still have people cheating, so when they say boxing’s a dirty sport, man that’s an understatement, because it is. I love it, it’s just a super dirty sport. That’s how it is.”