ESPN Boxing

On Dec. 8, 1979, in the then-Yugoslavian municipality of Split, Mate Parlov and Marvin Camel engaged in the first cruiserweight title fight in boxing history. Parlov and Camel battled to a 15-round draw in what three judges deemed a fight neither man deserved to win. For the ensuing 29 years, boxing fans have debated the imponderable riddle first posed that night: Do cruiserweights stink because they're cruiserweights, or are they cruiserweights because they stink?

Fighting in a division in which the usual goal seems to consist of becoming a former cruiserweight as quickly as possible, Steve Cunningham, who defends his title against Poland's Tomasz Adamek in Newark, N.J., on Thursday, is one of those boxing rarities -- he's a cruiserweight by choice.

The world sanctioning bodies currently recognize champions in 17 weight classes, up from the traditional eight less than 50 years ago. Some of today's categories are more preposterous than others, but in an age of bigger, stronger and faster athletes, the cruiserweight division would appear to make the most sense of all. Between the three of them, today's recognized heavyweight champions average 264 pounds; asking a man weighing between 176 and 200 to throw down with a Klitschko would seem to defy logic.

But more than a quarter-century after its creation, the cruiserweight title remains one of the sport's least-regarded (and least-compensated) positions. The networks, the promoters and the boxing public seem reluctant to embrace the concept, in part because cruiserweights themselves haven't accorded the division much respect.

Rather, the weight class has for the most part served as a dumping ground for light heavyweights with undisciplined appetites and as a stepping-stone to a more lucrative career as a heavyweight.

David Haye's recent decision to abandon his tripartite championship to campaign among the big boys is the latest example. Whether Haye's path will retrace the footsteps of Evander Holyfield to heavyweight glory or duplicate the more common experience of Vassily Jirov, Al "Ice" Cole and Orlin Norris remains unlearned. What we do know is that Haye's abdication has left Cunningham, the 32-year-old IBF champion, the division's most prominent practitioner, and that the winner of Thursday's fight against Adamek will be recognized as the pre-eminent cruiserweight on the planet.

"Look, what David Haye did was great, and you can't blame him for moving up," Cunningham said. "But I'm not really chasing money. My goal was to become a world champion and now my goal is to remain one. I not only want to defend my title, but to add more belts and defend those, too. I want to be a true world champion who will stay in the division for years to come."

Cunningham isn't closing the door on a possible heavyweight fight down the line if the money was right, but it would have to be the right situation -- against a reasonably sized opponent, and an arrangement that wouldn't put his belt (or hopefully, by then, belts) at risk.

The champ, who goes by the nickname "USS Cunningham," has yet another thing going for him: He happens to be the only champion in cruiserweight history who's actually been on a cruiser.

He enlisted in the United States Navy straight out of high school and served four years. He didn't lace on his first pair of gloves until he was 19 years old, and when he did he beat the All-Navy light heavyweight champion in his first amateur fight.

Between his deployment on the carriers Enterprise and America and as a member of the Navy's boxing team, he traveled to many exotic locales, and after embarking on his professional career, USS Cunningham picked up right where Seaman Cunningham had left off.

Following his discharge, he went 11-0 fighting in backwater venues of the Old Confederacy. Then, after signing with Don King in 2002, Cunningham fought eight straight bouts on big-fight cards around the world, performing on undercards staged by King.

"The thing about Don King is, he's always looking to give people a show with competitive fights. Another promoter might have been trying to build a fighter, but I didn't get any soft touches," Cunningham said. "But I'm grateful for that experience now. I think I've fought tougher guys, guys like Guillermo Jones and Kelvin Davis and Sebastian Rothmann, than Adamek has."

His first crack at the title came two years ago, when he met Krzysztof Wlodarczyk for the vacant championship in Warsaw, Poland. The Pole was awarded a split decision, a verdict adjudged to have been so outrageous (the dissenting judge, Rhode Island's Charlie Dwyer, had Cunningham winning 119-109) that the IBF ordered an immediate rematch.

The catch was that the return bout would also take place in Poland. There, Cunningham reversed the outcome, winning a majority decision.

His initial defense also took place in the opponent's backyard: In December 2007, Cunningham traveled to Germany to take on unbeaten Marco Huck, winning on a TKO when Huck's corner threw in the towel in the final round.

"I'm more popular in Europe than I am in America right now," Cunningham said. "But that's about to change."

Cunningham's past three fights took place overseas, but don't call this one a "homecoming."

"How can it be a 'homecoming' when it's in Newark, New Jersey?" he asked. "I'm from Philadelphia, man!"

Newark might be 90 miles from Philly, but Thursday's bout will be the nearest thing to a home game Cunningham has experienced in the past five years. In March 2003 he beat Demetrius Jenkins over eight rounds at the Spectrum. It was the only fight of his career (pro and amateur) to take place in the city of his birth.

"I've fought in Poland, in Germany, in South Africa, and all over the United States," Cunningham said. "I don't look at it as a hardship, but as an opportunity.

Most fighters on the road see little beyond the inside of a hotel room and a local gym, but what others view as an inconvenience, Cunningham sees as an opportunity to broaden his horizons.

His wife Elizabeth usually accompanies Steve on these adventures. On their first trip to Poland, there was a haunting visit to the Nazi-era death camp at Auschwitz. In Africa they traveled around the Veldt in an all-terrain vehicle.

"We like traveling and we've come to look at those trips as paid vacations," Cunningham explained. "We like to walk around, see stuff and meet people. It helps take some of the stress off."

Although they will be meeting in the ring for the first time, Cunningham and Adamek are hardly strangers. For Cunningham's rematch with Wlodarczyk in '07, Adamek was brought in to beat the drums for the promotion. Adamek also fought an eight-round bout on the same card.

Cunningham had been an eyewitness to the second of Adamek's Chicago wars against Paul Briggs, and he was watching on television when Adamek incurred his only career defeat and surrendered his title to Chad Dawson.

Cunningham has watched the replay of that one numerous times, but doesn't expect it to be especially helpful as preparation for Thursday night's exercise.

Dawson, a southpaw, beat Adamek with speed and left-handed trickiness that night in a Florida rodeo bullring. The Pole, who had plainly struggled with the weight, added nearly 25 pounds for his next fight four months later, and has won five straight as a cruiserweight.

Adamek has prepped for the Cunningham bout in Passaic, N.J., where he sparred with a collection of cruiserweights representing the past, present and future of the division -- from Cole, the 44-year-old former champion, to contender (and Chris Byrd conqueror) Shaun George, to three-time Golden Gloves titlist Patrick Farrell.

"Steve is a nice guy, and a true champion," Adamek said. "But I think I will beat him, because I feel so much stronger at cruiserweight."

"[Adamek] is much bigger than back when he fought Chad," Cunningham said.

In anticipation of a larger and stronger opponent than the man who lost to Dawson, Cunningham sparred with Philly heavyweights Eddie Chambers and Chazz Witherspoon.

Cunningham, an avid Phillies and Eagles fan, still lives in Philadelphia with Elizabeth and their two children. A deeply religious man, he spends much of his time between fights visiting youth groups at churches and schools.

Being in a position to affect young lives, in fact, is a large part of why he wants to remain a cruiserweight.

"I'm not going to lie to you, I lived a rebellious life and did my share of stupid things when I was young," Cunningham said. "Now when I go to these places, I can tell them I've been there and done that -- and they listen because they know I'm a world champion. Being able to speak to kids from that position of authority is more important than money. And it's why I want to keep being a champion."

George Kimball, who writes for the Irish Times and Boxing Digest as well as ESPN.com, won the Nat Fleischer Award for Excellence in Boxing Journalism in 1985. He is the author of the widely acclaimed new book "Four Kings: Leonard, Hagler, Hearns, Duran and the Last Great Era of Boxing."