Fans Push Back as Shakur Stevenson Demands Rehydration Clause at 147

Shakur Stevenson is catching heat again, and this time it’s over something fans have started to recognize as a pattern.

Stevenson has said that if he moves up to 147 to face Conor Benn or Devin Haney, he wants a rehydration clause built into the deal. Not a suggestion. A condition. The pushback was immediate.

Best in Boxing?

From the outside, fans see it as Stevenson trying to engineer a safety net. A way to pull a natural welterweight back down just enough to make the fight feel tilted before the first bell rings. That’s the part people don’t like. Especially when the fighter asking for it is someone who regularly calls himself the best pound-for-pound boxer in the sport.

Stevenson’s argument is simple. He says he isn’t a welterweight. Never has been. Never will be. He points to the fact that he began his career at featherweight and says the jump to 147 would put him well outside his natural frame.

According to Stevenson, the top fighters at welterweight rehydrate massively on fight night, sometimes by 25 or 30 pounds. He doesn’t believe that’s a fair matchup.

“I’m a 126-pounder, that’s where I started at,” Stevenson said in an interview with The Art of Dialogue. “Going all the way up to 147, I’m not even a 147. I’m nowhere near.”

He’s also quick to point out the precedent. Benn previously fought with a rehydration clause against Chris Eubank Jr., and Stevenson argues that asking for the same condition shouldn’t be controversial.

Haney Comes With Conditions

“If I fight Conor Benn at 147 and I want the same rehydration clause that he put on Eubank, what’s the problem with that?” Stevenson said. “I will fight Devin Haney, but give me the same stuff that I’m asking for with Conor Benn.”

That explanation hasn’t landed. The issue for fans isn’t whether Stevenson is technically correct about weight. It’s about optics. When a fighter brands himself as untouchable, elite, and historically great, there’s an expectation that he accepts risk when he chases big names. Rehydration clauses don’t feel like risk. They feel like control.

There’s also fatigue. Stevenson has been linked to big fights before, only for negotiations to stall over conditions, weight demands, or timelines. Each new caveat adds to the perception that the fights sound better in interviews than they do on contracts. Stevenson insists the criticism is personal.

“People hate me so much that they want me to say something out of the ordinary,” he said. “I’m saying facts. This is not my weight class. I’m not moving up to 147.”

That may be true. But if the move to welterweight comes with asterisks, fans are going to keep treating it the same way. Not as bravery. As bargaining.