The interesting saga of Cuban heavyweight Dainier Peró, who fights on Saturday on the undercard Tszyu-Murtazaliev

Dainier Peró’s present moment came when he was sitting on a rock somewhere near a remote island in the Bahamas. He sat there wondering, “I can’t believe this is where I’m going to die.” It was the fifth time the Cuban heavyweight tried to escape from Cuba and the fifth time he was caught. He was among 25 Cuban coast guards. Only this time, Peró and the group were exiled to an isolated island instead of being imprisoned.
This was no place to rest. There were no ripples on the soft white sand, no hissing water as the water receded. His ceiling was a black sky full of stars so he could curl up in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts with everything he had stuffed into a bag.
On Saturday night, Peró, 25,, 2020 Cuban Olympic super heavyweight, will face Willie Jake Jr. on the undercard of the Premier Boxing Champions main event on Amazon Prime between Bakhram Murtazaliev and Tim Tszyu fighting for the IBF junior middleweight belt. , from the Orange County Convention Center, Orlando, Florida.
Think Peró (8-0, 6 knockouts) has major concerns? Do you think any heavyweight in the world can push him like the 10 attempts it took him to escape from Cuba? Imagine if his eyes didn’t turn to him and he saw a vision of an emaciated Dainier on the beach eating bugs and drinking from a rusty oil barrel that had washed ashore?
Peró was caught nine times trying to escape. He got out on his tenth attempt.

Dainier Pero with manager and coach Bob Santos (Photo courtesy of Team Pero)
“Oh, I think back,” Peró said through an interpreter, Diana Santos, wife of Peró’s trainer and manager Bob Santos, the 2022 Ring Coach of the Year. “It’s motivation, because when you start from the bottom, you want to reach the top and be grateful for anything. Remembering what I’ve been through gives me that strength to move forward. I learned many things. First: The poor are not sick. I had to go on.”
Passing meant leaving Cuba.
In his fifth attempt in late 2021, Cuban authorities thought they would fix Peró and his party. He was among 25, including women and young children. They were not sent back to Cuba to be imprisoned. Instead, their punishment was arriving on the island for five days without food, water, or medical conditions. With no shelter, the scorching sun hurt them, but the group hid in palm trees. Those who do not have enough food and water brought to last more than two days. So, they resorted to drinking rainwater from an oil barrel, the gooey residue stuck to the bottom. Food grew so slowly that they were forced to eat bugs. Peró, who is 6-foot-5, 235 pounds, became depressed, until he looked at the giant rats on the island.
For days, Peró hoped that a passing plane would see them, or trusted the Cuban authorities to come back to get them.
“You can taste petroleum in the water,” Peró recalled. “I have never been sick. I just remember being thirsty. We ate bugs. We ate whatever we could find. At one point we thought of catching a big rat and eating it. We were captured (by the Cuban authorities) before we could do that. But it makes you think. Water can help. On the fourth day, we thought they would leave us there.”
He went to a deserted part of the island. He went into the water and went to a group of rocks near the shore. He went up and sat on the rocks looking at the sea, and wondered if he would come out.
If it weren’t for Peró, a respected Cuban Olympian, the Cuban authorities would have left the group on the island.
“I still had a lot to go on, but it bothered me to see three small children suffering,” said Peró, who despite the unbearable hardships he endured, has the attitude of a giant in pursuit. “It can’t be worse than when I was 12 years old when my mother died of leukemia (at the age of 36). They took me out of school to tell me that my mother (Luisa Justiz) had died. It wasn’t shocking news because I knew he had cancer. I didn’t see him until the funeral. But it was still a very difficult time for me, the worst time in my life, worse than being on that island.”
Peró was raised by his aunt, Daimi Peró. Her father, Eunice Peró, still lives in Cuba. Peró says he talks to his father a few times a week.
The fight with Jake (11-5-2, 3 KOs) will be an eight-round fight. The longest Peró has ever gone as a professional is four rounds. The two times he went the distance, he didn’t train for those fights.
“Peró is bigger than (world heavyweight champion Oleksandr) Usyk, he has faster hands than Usyk, but the biggest thing is how much he wants and desires success when he leads,” said Bob Santos. “Right now his work is very good. It will all come down to how you approach success. He has all the tools in the shed to become the first Cuban heavyweight champion of the world. He is a bigger version of Usyk. He has the speed of a middleweight. He doesn’t have any real hats on him because Cuba didn’t let him fight for two years. For heavyweights, they don’t mature until they are 32 years old. He is 25 years old. He’s too young for heavyweight. He’s a heavyweight kid.
“If he wasn’t an Olympian, the Cuban government would have left his ass out there on that island to die.” Boxing saved his life in more ways than one.”
A few days after his 22nd birthday, Peró finally succeeded in his tenth attempt. If he didn’t succeed, he vowed not to try again. Cuban beachgoers were in the water. They saw him on the boat, but for whatever reason, they didn’t stop him.
“It was like a miracle,” said Peró, who is working on her U.S. citizenship and lives in Las Vegas. “Every day I am very grateful to be in this country.”
Joseph Santoliquito is an award-winning sportswriter who has worked for Ring Magazine/RingTV.com since October 1997 and is president of the Boxing Writers Association of America.
Follow @JSantoliquito