The person who seems the least concerned about the legacy of Michael Spinks is Michael Spinks. Yes, he was the guy who lost to Mike Tyson in 91 seconds, and he was the younger brother of Leon, who beat Muhammad Ali to win the world heavyweight title.

But Michael is far more than that. He was a gold medalist at the 1976 Olympic Games. He was the undefeated and undisputed world light heavyweight champion and the first reigning light heavyweight champion to move up and dethrone the world heavyweight champion. It is almost unthinkable that anyone will repeat that feat.

Michael has always been a quiet man; more so in his later years. No one will find clips of him on social media shouting about what he would have done to other champions from various eras. He has his own opinions but is comfortable with whatever other people think. In a world that moves on so quickly, it is helpful to have a reminder of who Spinks really was, the man and the fighter. If Michael would not shout about his own achievements, someone else needed to make that case. Veteran boxing writer Jack Hirsch has done that in his new book, an authorized biography simply titled “Michael ‘Jinx’ Spinks.”

Hirsch was ready to write the book, with or without the co-operation of Spinks. He approached Spinks’ primary agent, and now wife, Flo Anthony, about the project and to enquire whether the former champion would be willing to co-operate. It took Spinks less than an hour to get back to Hirsch to say he was on board. Hirsch made it clear that the book would have journalistic integrity. He would be asking questions that might make Spinks feel uncomfortable or could potentially cast him in a less than favorable light. He expected honesty, and Michael agreed.

However, all the meetings were held at Flo Anthony’s New York apartment. Michael would not allow Hirsch to visit him at his home in Delaware. Was this a very physical manifestation of Spinks drawing a boundary; his way of saying that some things would remain private and off limits? Hirsch admitted to being a little frustrated.

I would be passing by Delaware, and I didn't want to stay long, just to get a feel for the book of where he lived. But he didn't let anyone in,” Hirsch told BoxingScene. “It wasn't me personally. Michael would basically just lock himself in his room and watch TV. He liked going out places. He likes people, don't misunderstand me. But when he doesn't have a banquet or function to go to, he's not the type of guy who has many interests. He just basically sits there, watches TV and chills out. I'm trying to say to him, I'm your biographer, I'm not just anyone. But, no, he kept people away from that. He had his reasons.”

Despite Spinks’ natural inclination for privacy, Hirsch is still confident that he got what he needed from the light heavyweight great and that an authorized biography was the way to go.

“I believe so, because Michael got to confirm things. I write in the book, for full transparency, at this stage in life Michael isn't a man of many words. I had to push him to talk, the way a trainer would with a fighter to get everything out of him. I said, ‘Come on, Michael, you’ve got to talk to me. I’ve got to have something.’ Then he would put a few sentences together. But personality-wise, he's so laid back and he doesn't have an ego. To him, boxing was a job that kept him busy. He appreciated people saying how great he was, but he didn't have an ego to say, ‘I'm the best. I'm this, or I'm that.’ If you said, ‘Michael, I think Roy Jones [would have been] too good for you,’ he wouldn't have cared. He just doesn't.”

When assessing Spinks’ career, it is interesting to speculate on fights that didn’t happen as well as analyzing those that did. Two fights that may have altered our perception of him, had they come to fruition, were against Matthew Saad Muhammad and Marvin Hagler.

Spinks told Hirsch that missing out on a Saad Muhammad fight is the only one that still bothers him to this day. The fight didn't happen because Saad Muhammad lost his title to Dwight Muhammad Qawi, then Qawi faced Spinks. Saad Muhammad against Spinks could have been a dream fight, but the timing just wasn’t quite right. If they had met at their peaks, how does Hirsch see that fight panning out?

“Michael would have beaten Saad Muhammad. Saad Muhammad was a great fighter. But look at the way Saad Muhammad won his fights. He always came back, it seemed, from the brink of defeat. That's why they gave the nickname ‘Miracle Matt.’ He was a bigger and slightly better version of Arturo Gatti. You would beat him up, he'd be in trouble, he would come back.

“I asked their common opponents who was better between them. Yaqui Lopez, who fought Saad Muhammad twice in title bouts and also fought Michael, said Michael would have beaten Saad. I asked Eddie Mustafa Muhammad. He said Michael was the better fighter. Murray Sutherland fought Tommy Hearns when Hearns was at its peak. He rates Michael Spinks as a greater fighter than Tommy Hearns.

“Michael tells how Saad Muhammad came to Joe Frazier's gym in Philadelphia, where Michael worked out, to teach Michael a lesson. They got in the ring, and Saad Muhammad wanted to go at it like it was for real. According to Michael, he beat Saad up and bloodied his nose. Is he exaggerating? Maybe. Saad Muhammad was the one fighter who Michael personally didn't like. He didn't hate him. He just didn't care for Saad Muhammad's behavior. He thought it was distasteful.

“Michael's legacy was hurt by not meeting Saad Muhammad. Michael would have probably scored a spectacular knockout at some point because Saad Muhammad was hittable.

“One thing about Michael Spinks – and I learned this watching all his fights again, even though I was very familiar with his career – no one overtook him in the later rounds of fights. He outlasted everyone. He never got tired. There was no such thing as wearing him down.

“If you wanted to get Michael Spinks, you had to jump on him early, a la Mike Tyson. Because once Spinks built up a full head of steam, he just seemed to get better and better as the fights went along. Saad Muhammad wouldn't have had any miracle comebacks against Michael Spinks. Michael Spinks could hit really hard.”

Hirsch notes how, at one point, Butch Lewis reached out to Marvin Hagler’s people about a potential fight between the two undisputed champs, but Hagler’s team had no interest in the matchup. Spinks told Hirsch that he would have been too big and too good for the middleweight great.

“I'm not saying this because I'm writing the book on Spinks. Believe me, I'm not. Spinks wins that fight, easy. Marvin, if he tried to attack Spinks, Spinks outboxes him. Spinks hit harder than Marvin, he’s the bigger guy. Any skill level Hagler had; Spinks could match. Hagler isn't going to outlast him. At the time they asked the Petronelli brothers, who managed and trained Hagler, about making the fight, I remember one of them said, ‘Marvin's like family to us.’

“I'm not saying Spinks would have beat him up badly, because Marvin's a tough guy. But there wasn't that much of a path for Marvin to beat a guy like Spinks. It was just a terrible style matchup for Marvin. But, listen, I don't fault Marvin for not taking it. Marvin was a natural middleweight. Why should he move up to win the light heavyweight title? What's the sense, as long as he could make middleweight and he was always able to make it? The fight never gained serious traction. Listen, if Marvin wanted that fight, and Marvin had a hard time getting big fights up to the time he fought Tommy Hearns, Michael Spinks was available for years. That was his big fight. Marvin could have gotten that fight anytime he wanted. But it wasn't even a serious consideration from the Hagler camp. And I don't blame them, and it doesn't take away from Marvin's greatness.”

As much fun as it can be to speculate over the ones that got away, a fighter’s legacy will be defined by the fights that did come to pass. In March 1983, Spinks faced Dwight Muhammad Qawi in a unification fight over 15 rounds. Hirsch describes it as the biggest fight in boxing at the time. This was only a couple of months after Spinks had lost his partner, Sandra Massey, who was also the mother of his child, in a car accident. Despite that, Michael put on a boxing masterclass and won on points. Qawi wouldn't lose again until he fought Evander Holyfield in July 1986 over 15 rounds at cruiserweight. And he gave Holyfield a nightmare. Maybe because Spinks won by boxing clever, resulting in the fight lacking thrills and spills, it’s a result that is slightly overlooked. Hirsch agrees.

“Had it been an exciting fight, it would have been a fight to remember, and it would have enhanced Spinks’ legacy. It depends sometimes how you win. Take the case of Terence Crawford beating Errol Spence. Crawford won so easily. All people were saying was, ‘Spence wasn’t the same fighter he used to be.’ They wouldn't give Crawford credit.

“Sometimes it doesn't benefit a fighter to win too easily. You know what the ironic part about it is? When they were in the gym – and you hear about these Philadelphia gym wars – everyone in Joe Frazier's gym would always stop to watch Spinks and Qawi spar. They really went at it.

“But when the real thing took place, Qawi was timid in the early rounds. Spinks thought, I'm going to jab and box, and put rounds in the bank. Spinks basically won the first six rounds, and even though Qawi cut into the lead somewhat because he was desperate later on, the outcome was never in doubt. Spinks knew Qawi was a great fighter. He knew he couldn't just step it up and knock Qawi out easily. It was going to be a tough chore.

“When you've sparred with a guy, a lot of times you get a good feeling about what you could do with them, what you can't do with them. And Spinks did a workmanlike job against Muhammad Qawi.”

Although it may have been a workmanlike performance, it is a standout win on Spinks’ record, particularly at light heavyweight. It would not be long before Butch Lewis’ eyes were cast towards the heavyweight division, where the big money awaited. It would also provide a chance to make history.

Michael Spinks challenged Larry Holmes in September 1985 for Holmes’ IBF heavyweight title, winning by unanimous decision over 15 rounds. The pair fought again the following April. Spinks repeated the trick, although this time with a split decision – a very controversial split decision.

No reigning light heavyweight champion had ever moved up to win the heavyweight title. Going into the first fight, Eddie Futch had been training both boxers. Rather than choose to train one over the other, Futch stepped away, leaving both fighters to make alternative arrangements. Who suffered the most from losing Futch from their training camp and corner? Does Hirsch think it affected the outcome of the fight?

“We'll never know for sure. Michael really liked Eddie Futch a lot and he listened to Futch a lot, too. But I know Michael resented Eddie Futch taking some credit for the game plan for beating Dwight Muhammad Qawi. He sparred Qawi so many rounds. Michael thought, what could Eddie teach him that he didn't already know? He felt he knew everything there was to know about Qawi from firsthand experience.

“I don't know the answer, but I give Eddie Futch a lot of credit for bypassing a payday.”

In lieu of Futch, Holmes called in his former trainer, Richie Giachetti. The public pronouncements in the media suggested complacency from Holmes’ team, a feeling that Spinks was too small and it would be an easy fight. Would that have been the case if Futch had had Holmes’ ear?

“Futch did say before the first fight, this isn't an easy fight for Larry, because he knew what Michael was capable of doing. What people did not realize going into that fight, and what Larry Holmes didn't realize, was that not only was Michael going to get bigger and be a 200-pounder, but more importantly, Michael had a lot of experience sparring with heavyweights in Frazier's gym. We're talking about elite heavyweights: James “Bonecrusher” Smith, Pinklon Thomas, Tim Witherspoon, Marvis Frazier, Tex Cobb. Legitimate heavyweights he would get in the ring with and spar a lot with. Larry Holmes’ size, in itself, Michael wasn't in awe of that, because he was used to bigger guys. But even Holmes told me for the book, he thought he'd just lay on Michael and tire him out, so that does show a certain amount of complacency.”

Mackie Shilstone was Michael Spinks’ conditioner and charged with navigating the move up to heavyweight. Remarkably, there was just three months between Spinks’ final fight at light heavyweight and his challenge for the heavyweight title. 

“Mackie Shilstone was ahead of his time. In the past, fighters would do road work slowly over long distances, running in heavy boots. Shilstone believed in explosive movements. You run hard for three minutes, then you're jogging for one minute, and repeating like in a fight. So you could, like, turn it up a notch. He also mixed it up with weight training. If Holmes was going to push down on him, which they felt was going to happen, Michael was able to resist that through strength training.

“Michael simply was more energetic than Holmes in both fights – even the second fight, and I had Holmes up a couple of points at the end. Holmes jumped off to the early lead. He won the first few rounds decisively but failed to close the show in the second half. He allowed Michael to get close enough, to come back to put it within range of himself getting the decision.”

The win over Holmes was part of the HBO unification series; a plan to create one champion from the muddled mess of the WBC, WBA and IBF. However, rather than remain in the tournament and face the then-unheralded IBF leading contender Tony Tucker, Spinks, under the guidance of Butch Lewis, opted to exit the series and face the comebacking Gerry Cooney. Spinks relinquished the IBF title but was still seen as the lineal champion. Lewis took to calling him “The People’s Champion.”

As a business decision, it was a very smart move. Cooney was much the bigger fight financially, and Spinks dispatched him in five rounds in Atlantic City, New Jersey, in June 1987. The loss still appears to rankle Cooney, who told Hirsch, “I would have eaten Spinks alive on my best day. I hope you have the guts to print that.” Hirsch did.

“Gerry was claiming, maybe with validation – I take his word on it – that he was a sick kid at the time. After losing to Holmes five years before, he kind of went off the deep end. He had a substance abuse problem. He didn't live the clean life. He says now he shouldn't have even been in the ring with Michael Spinks.

“What I think bothers Gerry is two things. He still looks at Spinks as being a light heavyweight, a little guy. He never gave Spinks credit for being a heavyweight. Spinks weighed over 200 pounds when he fought Cooney.

“The second thing is that Gerry is going through life not being called a former champion. Had he won one of the sanctioning body belts, it sounds a lot better. ‘Former heavyweight champion Gerry Cooney,’ as opposed to being a contender. It's like he's not in the club, in a sense.”

There is a school of thought that suggests the only reason Cooney came back to boxing was because there was this little guy, Spinks, walking around as champion. Hirsch concurs.

“It was Cooney’s shortcut back to the top because Spinks, in reality, was the legitimate world heavyweight champion, not Tyson. Spinks won it in the ring against Holmes and never lost it in the ring. Cooney had done virtually nothing in the five years after Holmes. He won a couple of fights, but not big fights. Now he's in the ring with Spinks. And if he beat Michael, who he looked at as a little guy who he could knock out, Mike Tyson was next. And that fight would have grossed a fortune. Cooney's manager, Dennis Rappaport, who always drove a hard bargain, said they wouldn't have taken a penny less than Tyson. It would have been a 50-50 split. The money would have been crazy for Cooney against Tyson.

“Wally Matthews told me he found himself in the elevator with Tyson after the Cooney-Spinks fight. Tyson was cursing Cooney for losing the fight. Tyson felt like a loser that night (because of the loss of the payday that a Cooney fight would have brought).”

Hirsch quotes former New York commissioner Randy Gordon as saying that Cooney “was hung over for Spinks and drinking a quart of scotch every day during training.” Does Hirsch think this was accurate?

“I don't know. I love Randy, and I'm not saying Randy is off, but I'm sure he wasn't with Cooney while Cooney was drinking. We know Cooney was abusing his body after the Holmes fight, but in training for Spinks, Cooney looked like he was in shape.

“Cooney was ready to fight that night. The problem is it wasn't the same Gerry Cooney who knocked out Ken Norton six years before. I mentioned this to Cooney. I put him on the spot. I said to him, ‘Gerry, if you're not going to give Spinks any credit for beating you, by saying that you weren't the same fighter, why should we give you credit for knocking out Ken Norton, Ron Lyle and beating Jimmy Young?’ I'm friendly enough with Gerry that I could say that. Gerry says to me, ‘Yeah, I would have beaten those guys anyway.’ And maybe he would have beaten them all.

“I thought Cooney was going to beat Spinks that night. A lot of people did, and Cooney did, too. A lot of people did because they thought of the Cooney of five years before.”

The victory over Cooney set up the fight billed as “Once and for All,” a clash with Mike Tyson, in June 1988 and once again in Atlantic City. Mike Tyson took home $21 million. Michael Spinks didn't do too badly, making a reported $13.5 million. Hirsch writes that, going into the fight with Tyson, Michael was listening more to Butch Lewis than he was Eddie Futch. Lewis advised Spinks to trade punches with Tyson early on to get his respect, while Futch wanted Spinks to follow a more conservative game plan. Is it just the benefit of hindsight, or does the advice from Lewis not sound insane? Hirsch points out that there had been a precedent to that.

“When Gene Tunney won the heavyweight title from Jack Dempsey, Dempsey was considered a savage. And Tunney thought, let me hit him with my hardest shot immediately to let him know what I’ve got. And years later, Cus D'Amato told Muhammad Ali prior to his fight with George Foreman, hit him with your hardest punch immediately to get his respect.

“But Eddie Futch was upset with Lewis. Butch at times liked to be the center of attention. He barges into Tyson's dressing room and insists that Tyson rewrap his hands. Now Tyson is really ticked off. He is mad. Eddie Futch said, ‘Tyson's the type of fighter who fights off emotion. We don't want him upset. We want him calm.’ Finally, Lewis relents, but Tyson is so mad, and Butch Lewis sees him punch a hole in the wall.

“Regarding Spinks trading with Tyson, I think it's really a myth. If you watch the fight, the only time he traded punches with Tyson was at the very end, the moment before he got knocked out. The reason he did that, you can't blame him. He stopped and he threw a Spinks jinx, his right hand, to try to nail Tyson.

“At some point in the fight, Spinks was going to have to stop and fight in short intervals. He was going to have to hold his ground at certain points. Spinks had gone down before that from a body punch, and I didn't like Spinks' body language. He told me for the book, the reason he went down was to get Tyson off him. But he got knocked out shortly after. He threw a right hand. Tyson threw one at the same time. Tyson hit the target, Spinks didn't, and game over.”

In the book, Spinks denies to Hirsch that he froze because of fear. He acknowledges that Tyson was just better than him. But he also says that he knew Tyson would start quickly – just not as quickly as he did. Had he never watched a video? Tyson is going to come at you. If Tyson can finish you in 10 seconds, he will. Does that sound naive from Spinks?

“It does. It shows me a fighter who wasn't as mentally prepared and as psyched as he should have been for the fight. I know Spinks was very calm before his other fights. But against Tyson, who started very quick, he needed to be ready. Spinks was always a slow starter in all his fights as a light heavyweight. Even David Sears, an ordinary fighter, outboxed Spinks in the first two rounds of their fight. Then Spinks hit him with a big punch, a right hand, and stopped Sears in the third round.

“Michael Spinks had to be ready from the opening bell. Tyson always fought at 100 per cent maximum effort from the start. Spinks was moving around the ring, figuring he'll get his footing. He didn't care about losing the first couple of rounds. He figured he'd make it up later. He'll get Tyson down the stretch but just never got in the flow. Tyson was right on him.

“He didn't picture Tyson being as quick on his feet as he was, as nimble as he was. Spinks says there's a lot more to Tyson than just his punch. People remember Tyson's power, but Spinks says they don't remember how good Tyson was at cutting off the ring. If you look at both fighters before the fight, Tyson is all warmed up in the ring. He's bouncing around. Spinks is lackadaisical, waving to the crowd, nonchalant. Tyson was ready from the get-go, Spinks wasn't. Michael was able to get away with it with lesser opponents when he was light heavyweight champion. But against Tyson, it had devastating consequences.”

Butch Lewis died 15 years ago, at the age of 65. He was a massive influence on the career and personal life of Michael Spinks. Lewis was working for Top Rank at the time of the 1976 Olympics, and Michael signed with them to turn professional. When Lewis later split with Top Rank, Michael went with Butch.

Hirsch quotes Lewis as having said to Michael, “Slim, you worry about the fighting and let me take care of the business.” Spinks was satisfied with that arrangement, but it would come back to haunt him.

Hirsch estimates that Spinks grossed approximately $35 million by the time he finished boxing. Lewis then continued to manage Michael's financial affairs for another 23 years until Lewis died. Lewis kept hold of the money and gave Michael a monthly allowance and paid his bills. When Butch passed away, it became clear that the money was gone. Hirsch surmises that if Lewis had lived much longer, he would have been forced into a very uncomfortable conversation with Michael as the monthly payments and bill payments dried up.

“Butch Lewis and Michael were incredibly close. But at the end, when Butch died, Michael’s fortune was, all of a sudden, gone. Michael was destitute, without a penny to his name. His utilities were shut off; his car was repossessed. He found out taxes weren't paid. He had to fight to get some of his money back, which he ultimately did. They won't have to throw any benefits for Michael in the future. He's fine. He doesn't have the fortune he should have, but he should be comfortable for the rest of his life.”

Rock Newman is quoted in Hirsch’s book describing Lewis as Michael's “Svengali.” The dictionary definition of a Svengali is “a person who completely dominates, manipulates or controls another person, often with sinister or selfish intent.” Hirsch does not entirely agree with that label.

“I don't think Rock Newman meant it that Butch Lewis had any sinister feelings in regard to Michael. But he felt Michael was so loyal to Butch, he felt he couldn't do any wrong. He's going to follow Butch no matter what. Basically, that was it. He'd swear by Butch no matter what. You want to know something? He still does.

“The worst thing Michael said about Butch for the book, and he had to be urged to say this by his wife, was, ‘I'm disappointed that Butch would do to me what he did, considering our relationship.’

“But then he said he thought that if he had ever asked Butch for all his money, he thought he would have given it to him. I'm thinking to myself, ‘Are you kidding me, Michael? You really believe that? Are you that naive?’

“But Butch did some pretty good things for Michael. He did set up a retirement account that was left untouched for over 30 years. He also had Michael buy the home in Delaware because Butch lived in Delaware nearby, so he could keep a better eye on Michael. But he had Michael pay it off all at once. That home, I estimate, would now be worth a couple of million dollars.

“Look, even with a lifetime friend who I trust unconditionally, I'm not letting him hold on to all my financial assets, manage it, pay my bills and this or that. Because, as I say in the book, after a while, if you're holding on to someone else's money all these years, your mindset is, it's our money, not your money. That's a natural mindset. Butch really was fond of Michael. But at the end, he did wrong by Michael.

“At one point, while we were writing the book and discussing this topic, Michael looked pretty sad. I said, ‘Are you worried that I'm going to be making Butch look bad in the book?’ He nodded his head. After all he went through, he was still loyal to Butch Lewis. Even to this moment, he's completely loyal to Butch Lewis.”

Hirsch concludes his book by examining Michael Spinks’ place among the greats of the light heavyweight division. He acknowledges he is playing devil’s advocate when debating the list compiled by the International Boxing Research Organization, which placed Spinks at No. 6, behind Ezzard Charles, Sam Langford, Gene Tunney, Archie Moore and Bob Foster. It is enough to say that it is exceptional company to be in.

Michael Spinks will avoid, if possible, debating his place among the greats, but he will tell you who his favorite fighter was. When asked that question, says Hirsch, Spinks will reply that it is his brother, Leon.

“Michael really looked up to Leon. Leon was his idol. Ask him who would have won if he and Leon fought for real. He says Leon would have won. Michael is attached to Leon. He doesn't mind his legacy being attached to Leon's. Hardcore boxing fans realize Michael Spinks is one of the greatest light heavyweight champions in history.”

And if anyone needs reminding of that fact, a good place to start would be reading Jack Hirsch’s book.