Liam Paro calls the Devin Haney–Shakur Stevenson negotiations “embarrassing,” and the months of public bargaining have made both fighters look bad without either taking a punch.
Each wants fans to believe the other is responsible for the fight failing to happen. Instead, their arguments over weight and rehydration conditions have given fans reasons to doubt how much risk either is willing to accept. Both have taken something resembling a defeat, except the damage is to their reputations rather than their records.
“These guys obviously don’t really want to fight each other,” Paro said. “There’s always some little problems that’s not making it happen. And in a way, it’s a bit embarrassing.”
The IBF welterweight champion understands the frustration firsthand after his own unification talks with Haney fell apart. Paro denied pricing himself out of that matchup, though he withheld specific numbers during the interview.
His critique also targeted Stevenson’s conditions for jumping up to 147 pounds. In Paro’s view, Stevenson should meet Haney at the standard welterweight limit without caveats.
“Shakur is a hell of a fighter. I’ve shared the ring with him,” Paro remarked. “He’s got all the tools to be victorious against Haney. But fight him at 147, then call yourself a true 147 champion.”
Haney claimed Stevenson tried inserting a 10-pound rehydration clause after both sides settled on a 145-pound catchweight, though Paro declined to quote an exact number.
Promoters observing this saga face an uncomfortable reality about future matchmaking. Name recognition sells tickets, yet getting marquee talent to sign contracts remains a major hurdle.
Winning social media debates does nothing positive for Haney or Stevenson. Prolonging this dispute simply makes it tougher for either champion to claim he wants the challenge.
The biggest problem for both Haney and Stevenson is that neither owns the kind of explosive, crowd-pleasing style that forgives this level of nonsense. When knockout artists or charismatic brawlers play hardball, fans usually grumble, pay the pay-per-view fee anyway, and tune in for the inevitable explosion. But Haney and Shakur are safety-first purists.
The public was already skeptical about whether their matchup would turn into a low-volume chess match of feints and clinches. Piling endless, petty negotiations on top of a fight style that already tests casual fan patience is box office suicide.
Instead of looking like hungry young champions chasing greatness, they managed to make Liam Paro look like the mature adult in the room. Paro called it what it is: embarrassing. If a fighter genuinely believes he is the pound-for-pound king, he steps in the ring and proves it, rather than whining on an app about rehydration terms after already getting a catchweight concession.
Even if they sign the contracts tomorrow, the energy is completely gone. The narrative will no longer be about which fighter establishes his legacy. The narrative will be that two over-entitled divas finally ran out of excuses because the public stopped caring about their tweets.
