Richardson Hitchins

Richardson Hitchins was born on September 26, 1997, in Brooklyn, New York. Hitchins’ amateur career laid a solid foundation for his professional success. Beginning his boxing journey at 12, he amassed over 120 amateur bouts, securing victories in more than 100 of them. Hitchins showcased his talent by winning multiple regional and national tournaments, including the New York Golden Gloves. Despite his impressive record, he narrowly missed qualifying for the U.S. Olympic team. Undeterred, Hitchins chose to represent his parents’ homeland, Haiti, at the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro. There, he competed in the light welterweight division but was eliminated in the round of 16 by Gary Antuanne Russell of the United States.

Richardson Hitchins turned professional on March 4, 2017, debuting at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center with a first-round TKO over Mario Alberto Perez Navarro. His early career was marked by a series of victories, including a first-round knockout of Alexander Charneco in April 2018 and a second-round TKO of Charles Stanford in March 2018. In December 2020, he secured a split decision win over former world champion Argenis Mendez. Hitchins continued his ascent with a unanimous decision over Malik Hawkins in December 2021. After signing with Matchroom Boxing in September 2022, he made a notable debut by stopping Yomar Álamo in the eighth round in November 2022. He then claimed a unanimous decision victory over John Bauza in February 2023, followed by a win against Jose Zepeda in September 2023. In April 2024, Hitchins defeated Gustavo Daniel Lemos via unanimous decision, setting the stage for his December 2024 bout where he captured the IBF super lightweight title by defeating Liam Paro via split decision in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The devastating earthquake that struck Haiti in 2010 left scars across the island, physically and emotionally. Though raised in Brooklyn, Hitchins felt the tremors ripple through his family and community, grounding him with a deeper purpose. That pain gave rise to something greater: shifting the narrative. Haiti is not only healing; it is rising with the force of a trident. Hitchins sees himself as a wielder of that symbolic weapon—cutting through outdated perceptions and carving space for Haitians as global sensations in sport and culture.

Richardson Hitchins doesn’t just step into the ring—he rises from it, like a tidal surge sent from the deep. He fights like Poseidon’s heir, forged, carved by silence, but never still. One moment, he’s circling with nonchalant elegance; the next, his fists come crashing like waves against the rocks, a violent reminder that silence doesn’t mean softness. It means control.

There’s a reason his movement feels mythical. Haitian boxing is a hidden language—one spoken in code, passed quietly through generations. Unlike Cuban fighters who train out loud with public pride, Haitians keep their sharpest weapons hidden. It’s a closed system, honed in tight gyms and handed down like sacred scripture. Hitchins broke that silence—but only to speak it fluently on the world stage. He is the translator. The decoder. A soft-footed killer with assassin hands and a storm behind his stare. This mirrors the guerrilla tactics employed by Haitian revolutionaries, who used hit-and-run strategies to outmaneuver better-equipped colonial armies. This small success alone challenges stereotypes and highlights the rich history and potential of Haitian boxing.

Like Percy Jackson wielding the trident, Hitchins channels something ancient—something not taught, but inherited. His is the fighting style of the sea god: unpredictable, and fluid, but with depth that drowns the unprepared. He doesn’t fight with fire. He fights with the tides. He baits his opponents into comfort, only to engulf them with swarming, volume-heavy combinations.

He doesn’t shout, but when he moves, it’s louder than any anthem. Inside the ring, he channels the energy of Vertières, where Haitians once broke Napoleon’s lines before Europe could write the story. Hitchins fights not just to win, but to rewrite. His jab, like Dessalines’, cuts space and creates chaos. His counterpunches feel like Toussaint Louverture slipping chains and rewriting fate. He fights for cultural revival. For ancestors. For the truth that Haiti was never a victim—it was a victor.