"I owe it all to my rivals that I was able to reach the top of the world. But boxing isn't that easy. In the end, it's the one who works harder and suffers the most who wins."

When he took the bantamweight world title from Eder Jofre (May 17, 1965), the media was all, "What a jerk!" (laughs). The scores were written as 3-7, 2-8 and he was at a disadvantage. That was only natural. Jofre was strong after all. He was undefeated in 49 fights (47 wins, 37 KOs, 2 draws), and all eight of his title defenses were won by KO. He came to Japan two years ago and KO'd Shori Aoki with a single left hook body blow.
"We're both human beings, so I'm sure we can do something," I thought as I fought. Jofre was strong and skilled, but I fought to the end, believing that the best defense is offense. And I won. At the post-match press conference, I wanted to say, "Serves you right," but I refrained (laughs). Maybe it was the media that helped me to feel that way.

I think it's thanks to my rivals that I was able to fight at the top of the world like that. In those days, Ebihara Hiroyuki (World Flyweight Champion), Aoki Shori (Oriental Bantamweight Champion), and I were called the Three Crows. Of the three, I may be the last in terms of talent. Ebihara had speed and a powerful punch. Aoki was a hard puncher with a heavy punch that reverberated. The power of their punches was so great that they were called "Razor" and "Megaton". I don't have that kind of punch. In the beginning, I couldn't beat them, even in terms of audience numbers. But that's why I didn't want to lose.

I fought Ebiwara in the East Japan Rookie King Finals (December 24, 1960) at Korakuen Gym. His punches were strong and made me shaky, but I managed to knock him down twice and win. I fought Aoki (October 29, 1964) after I moved up to the bantamweight division. I took a good punch in the first round, but I won by KO in the third round.

I remember the fight with Aoki well. To tell the truth, I really didn't want to lose this fight. He openly stated that he hated training. When the fight between us was decided, he said that he could win within the third round even without training. So I also warned him that I would knock him out in the third round. That was the only fight I ever warned him about.

"I've been standing in this ring since the days of the Korakuen Gym. This place represents three-quarters of my 58 years of life. If I could die in this ring, I would have no regrets."

I want the fans who come to Korakuen Hall now to see the determination of a boxer like that. I want them to see him believe in his own potential, and keep training to the limit, pushing his limits even further.
Things are different now from our time. We were poor and really hungry. Being hungry made us want to work harder. Boxing is said to be a hungry Sports. Everyone was hungry and fighting to somehow fill that craving, so I think that's why boxing was so interesting back then. Young people probably don't have that kind of feeling.

It's also a matter of the times. I can't say which is better. However, I feel that young boxers are too eager to get results, and are compromising too quickly. They certainly aren't hungry for reality. But if they want to get in the ring, they must be hungry for something on a different level than being hungry. If they go down, they say "no more" and don't try to get up. If they lose, they give up right away. It's not fun because they don't make much money. I want them to overcome themselves and pursue greater results, rather than ending up there. I want them not to compromise.

I became a world champion in two weight classes. I am also the only Japanese to be selected for the world's most prestigious "Hall of Fame". What makes me even happier is that even now, when I go to the countryside, old people ask me, "Harada-san, when is your next fight?" That just goes to show how deeply my boxing has been etched in my mind. None of this was what I had hoped for when I was fighting. I believe that the efforts I have made to win and become stronger have produced these results.

You could say that Korakuen means everything to me. After all, when you think of boxing, you think of Korakuen. I've been standing in the ring here since the days of Korakuen Gym, before Korakuen Hall was built. I used to go there with a bucket to help out as a second for every match my predecessors had. Even after I retired from active duty, I have visited Korakuen Hall many times when fighters from my gym compete or to provide commentary on television. There is a unique atmosphere here. There is a much greater enthusiasm than at world championships in large venues where there are many empty seats. There have been many great matches here. And it is a place that symbolizes three-quarters of my 58-year life.