Old Time Training & Technique vs Modern Day Training & Tech.

[HomicideHenry]

When debating the pugilists of ages long since passed, it is often said, if not misakenly, that the fighters of pre-Marquis of Queensbury and/or at the dawn and early stages of the rules we know now today [which originally were much different, but we will address those differences later on], were not on par or equal to modern athletes.

It is often the picture painted in our minds that the early ppugilists were either slow and ponderous, wild swinging with little ring science, or more inappropriately, lacked the conditioning to go 'rounds' like fighters do today.

Presently we are conditioned as viewers to almost non-stop movement, punches of various degrees, because of bigger gloves and a three minute duration with a scheduled amount of rounds. It is common knowledge that in a four rounder, a man must make an impact early on, to sweep on points. The longer a fight goes, the less frequent does the boxer have to rely on being active, he/she can afford to lose a round or two.

In the pre-Queensbury rules era, from Figg to Ryan, there never was a designated time limit on a fight at all. Also, with bare fists, it was mandatory, that if a shot was to be thrown, it had to be accurate, on target, and not miss, else you were wasting energies you would need later down the stretch. As a bonus, there was a price to pay if fists were thrown too often to the head, and that was the risk of busting your hand in a bout.

Body punching and grappling were all but necessary in those days, to help save a man from having to use his hands too much. A throw would also buy a man more time if needed, as rounds ended whenever a man was dropped by a hand, or thrown to the canvas.

The man who is generally given the nod as being the true innovator of using gloves in this early stage was John L. Sullivan, though others at his time had also used gloves, such as Jem Mace, who fought twenty some odd years before Sullivan came about. 'The Great John L' perferred gloves over the London Prize Ring rules, which Figg originated, as he knew the importance of protecting your hands [and with his bull rush, counter punching style, he knew bare knuckles would not suit his technique].

Some historians proclaim Marciano to have been the greatest conditioned heavyweight champion of all time, and while this may be true, it is more suitable to say Marciano's training habits were more on par with the fighters of Sullivan's era. 'The Rock' was known to take 20 mile walks and 10 mile runs, not including his sparring and other excercises.

According to John L. Sullivan, this was his standard routine before facing Charlie Mitchell:

"During the first week I am passed through a course of physics by which the stomach is brought into proper condition. During this time I get up every morning at 7 o'clock, walk a mile and breakfast at 8. My bill for fare throughout the training is a simple one. I avoid all greasy or heating foods. My meats are cooked rare and I am prohibited from eating anything rich or sweet. The bread is either toasted or stale. In place of tea or coffee with every meal I am allowed ale or porter. After breakfast I take a cold shower bath, followed by a brisk rubbing of every part of the body with coarse towels. After resting an hour I walk 12 miles, six out and six back, coming in on the last half mile at a high brisk run. This is followed by knocking with dumb bells for about an hour. They weigh a pound and a half and the excercise affects the muscles of the arm. After dinner the excercises of the morning are repeated and supper is followed by another jaunt of 12 miles, more dumb bell knocking, a cold water sponge bath, a thorough rubbing and finally about 9 o'clock to bed. This is kept every day until the day of the meeting. I will be relieved of about thirty pounds of superfluous flesh and ought to weigh 185 pounds when I step into the ring."


Now mind you, Sullivan, like Roberto Duran and Jake LaMotta notably, had the problem of gaining excess weight inbetween bouts, going from 195 to as much as 280 pounds. Before meeting Jake Kilrain the champion was nearly 250 pounds, sixty pounds over his regular fighting weight. William Muldoon, champion wrestler and one of the founders of sports fitness here in America, trained Sullivan down to 209 pounds. Sullivan, by the end of his training was able to do 800-900 repititions with the jump rope, countless rounds with the punching bag, his wrestling sessions with Muldoon, and his nearly 36 mile a day walks!

As far as the cardio is concerned, I think its safe to say Sullivan, even in the 1880's was comparable to Marciano, whose training habits were considered, even today, phenomenal.

Paddy Ryan, though not a celebrated champion (who technically defeated nobody to gain the title), had a similar routine as well, before taking on John L. Sullivan the first time:

"My first object will be to thoroughly purify my system, which will occupy probably a week. Then I will start in on schedule time. At 5:30 every morning I will arise, and after taking a little old sherry and a crust of stale bread I will saunter along the road for three miles just to get up an appetite. Breakfast will be ready upon returning, the principle food being either muttonchops or beefsteak, medium cooked, with just enough salt upon it to make it palatable, in addition to dry toast and a cup of tea, with neither sugar nor milk. A rest is taken after breakfast for 3/4 of an hour, then the hard work of the day commences. Encased in heavy flannels and with a heavy pair of walking shoes I start on a ten mile tramp; five miles and return. The pace must be a severe one, and the last half mile of the distance is accomplished on a fast run. I then jump into bed with heavy coverings and remain there until prespiration ceases. I will then be subjected to a good hard rubbing and afterward take a bath in luke warm water. Being rubbed perfectly dry I don a suit of light clothes and journey quietly around til dinner time, which is set promptly at 12:30pm. The meal consists of roast beef, and sometimes boiled leg of mutton is allowed, vegetables once in a while are included, in addition to dry toast and a bottle of Bass or Scotch ale. After dinner a row is indulged in for about 3/4 of an hour, and then a set for 1/2 hour additional. Dumb-bells, weighing 2 1/2 pounds each, are fondled with for some time. Particular care is taken to keep the limbs always in motion. Supper consists of a couple of boiled eggs, some toast and a cup of tea. A walk around is afterward taken until time arrives for retiring, which is between 9 and 9:30pm. The last effort of the day is take up the dumb bells, rattle them hard until you fairly drop into bed a very tired man."

Dieting, strength resistance excercises, and extreme cardio seemed to have been the main course of training in those days.

Often times the argument is thrown against Sullivan that when he faced Jim Corbett, that he was simply a man from a different era and knew little of ring science and was hence easily defeated by Corbett, who was the new 'era' of pugilism. This is a ridiculous notion for several good reasons:

-There were novices even in Sullivan's time; Flood for example was merely a street fighter, whom Sullivan easily dispatched, though Flood was the betting favorite over the then unknown Sullivan. It is easy to see, on Sullivan's future American and European tours, that there were none of the rough and tumble style, usually attributed to boxers of Sullivan's time, that was capable of going even four rounds with him---several of these men were dispatched of inside of 30 seconds, one being kayoed in two!

-Sullivan hadn't stepped into the prize ring for over three years, and was by his own admission no longer interested in boxing. His weight swelled to over 280 pounds (some speculated 300), and he was out pricing himself, figuring no one would match the offers. He wanted to be champion, and say he would fight any man in the world at that time as he always proclaimed, but simply didn't have the heart for it any more. His alcoholism was at its all time high, almost dying some months before from 'gastric fever'. In short, he was at his absoloute worst as a fighter.

-Corbett is often over looked in the strength department, he himself did posess not only fast hands and feet, but a hard punch, though admittedly not as powerful as Sullivan's. Also, Corbett was very much at the peak of his pugilistic powers, as he would never again be the dominant force as he was against Jackson, Kilrain, Mitchell and Sullivan, losing his title not too long after winning it without much defenses.

-John L. Sullivan is given very little credit for his own abilities in the ring. While he was known as 'The American Hercules' as well as 'The Boston Strong Boy', he wasn't just a haymaker throwing, rushing brute. Sullivan was very much a counter puncher, using a chopping left to strike down his opponents jab, to counter with a crushing right. Sullivan was just as deadly as a body puncher as well, breaking down the guard to finally get a shot at his opponents head. Also, it must be noted, Sullivan, like many of his fellow boxers of his time, was an expert of the human anatomy, knowing where blows would be most critical, as he would often hit down on the back of the head and neck, behind the ear or flush on the jaw, to floor his opponents down and out. Sullivan, by the time he had defeated Kilrain, was considered by even his most damning critics as being capable of defeating any champion before him, and that at his best would certainly have defeated both Peter Jackson and Jim Corbett on the same night, under either London Prize or Queensbury rules. He was more than capable of parrying blows, and his fists were delivering blows from the shoulder at such speeds that Sullivan was often described as a lightweight in movement.

-To criticize John L for his lack of ring science against the more groomed tacticians of his time [Mitchell, Kilrain] is to criticize Jeffries, Dempsey, Marciano, Frazier and Tyson, as these men also did not possess much ring science, but fought men of their own time who did: Johnson, Tunney, Walcott, Ali, Lewis! There are various styles, and whether people agree with it or not, Sullivan was of the mold of the same swarmers that gave the so-called greatest tacticians trouble in the ring.

-Boxing, for the most part, is a sport of the young, not the old. Sullivan was in his mid 30's and already showing signs of gray hair on his head, while Corbett, as stated earlier, was at his absoloute physical peak. It wouldn't be too long after the Corbett fight, that Sullivan would be completely gray of beard and hair and balloon to 300 pounds, appearing to be nearly two decades older than he was, appearing more like Santa Claus than a former heavyweight champion of the world.

Still, even at that stage of his career, Sullivan lasted 21 rounds with arguably the best heavyweight in the world at that time, even though it was apparent from rounds three til the 21st, despite Sullivan managing a flash knockdown on Corbett in the 18th, that Sullivan was essentially 'done' as champion. It may have been, in a sense, more one sided than Jeffries/Johnson. How was Sullivan able to achieve this?

It if often stated, argued and debated that the old-timers were 'tougher' than men of today. There is a kind of notion to believe this to be true, as gloves today are so much larger than then, and with scheduled round distances, and referees always on guard, that boxers are more protected and receive less injury. In those days, fights could last anywhere from an hour to three, even in Marquis' early days, fights of a scheduled 45 round distance or more were quite frequent. It still was a 'fight to the finish' in many a critic's mind then.

However, the smaller a glove is, the less likely will you see fists fly as often as they do now. The more rounds there is, the less likely it is, no matter how conditioned you are, will you see two combatants make a 'fight of it' for twenty, thirty or more rounds. While it is true a bare fist is more then likely to cause a knockout than a gloved fist can, studies are showing more and more that the logic of being knocked out early is better than being battered a whole distance.

Still, people argue that the old-timers were 'tougher'. But there are many cases in point that there have been far more ring deaths, more brain injuries, and dementia associated with boxers of the last 75 years than there has been in the entire 'era' of London Prize Ring Rules from Figg to Sullivan's win over Jake Kilrain.

Infamous 'white collar circuit' pugilist Lenny McLean once said that with a glove you could hit a man harder over a longer period of time than you could with a bare fist, and that the Queensbury rules were detrimental to a man's body more so than London Prize Ring rules ever were, as it is suited for faster action, thicker gloves, meaning more head punches. McLean and others are often mocked and barred from any opinion, simply because they were never 'professionals' in the eyes of the public or on paper, though the tradition of bare knuckle prize fighting has been going on for over 100 years since Kilrain met defeat at Sullivan's hands.

Tougher or not, the evidence clearly does show, that today's fighters have shorter careers than men of Sullivan's time. You cannot say it was because of a lack of challengers, as Sullivan and several others fought literally hundreds of men, and you cannot say it was because of the rules being so different [London Prize vs modern Queensbury], as a throw from a grappling move or other similar tactic over a prolonged period of time can shorten a career just as quick [think UFC for a moment and notice how short their careers are in comparison to a boxers].

The answer lies in the equipment, when it comes to toughness, plain and simple.

***

Alot of guys today have expressed the axiom 'We know what the old guys knew and more', when it comes to ring technique and conditioning, but it seems it is seldom applied in the Heavyweight division any more. Today we see heavyweights who are 240-280 pounds who should be coming in at 210-220. It is said but never applied. Possibly Evander Holyfield's success into his late 40's is due to his strong work ethic outside the ring, in comparison to his opponents as much as twnety years his junior.

In the lighter weight classes, training, however, seems to still be crucial to make weight. But with the countless weight classes in effect today, as well as the ever popular 'catchweight' fights of Pacquia in recent months, can it be said that guys today are more pampered to knuckle down than the old guys? It still screams blasphemy that guys today can possibly be more conditioned than men then. Even 50 years ago, when LaMotta was struggling to get down from 175 or more to 160 or less, more times than not he accomplished his goal to make weight, you knew he trained without excuse!

Today there's 18 weight classes. In LaMotta's time there were eight. In Sullivan's time there were but three: Heavyweight, Middleweight and Lightweight. Anyone over 160 pounds was considered a heavyweight then, and anyone under 130 pounds was considered a Lightweight. There was a twenty pound disparity between heavyweight and lightweight. Today there are three weight classes in between middleweight and heavyweight, and seven between heavyweight and lightweight.

In alot of instances, I am sure it would have benefited some fighters to have had more weight classes in their time, and certainly more matches would have been considered "fair" [even Sullivan would often give an opponent a chance to take on one of his sparring partners closer to their weight rather than take him on, as he was anywhere between 195-240 pounds, and most his opposition were in the 160's or 180's].

But at the same time, it also makes us wonder, if guys like Bob Fitzsimmons could fight around 167 and still knock out guys outweighing him by 100 pounds or more, are the old timers superior because they fought in such harsher conditions, or is guys like Fitzsimmons the exception, not the rule?

Some critics point out that guys like Fitzsimmons, Burns, O'Brien and others who went from middleweight to heavyweight mainly fought men closer to their own weights anyways, so there wasn't much of a difference to begin with---still, 160 and up is quite a range at heavyweight compared to the 200 and up it is today. Myself, I am on the opinion that the old timers were better in this regard, as they tested themselves, sometimes beyond their limits and capacities, and proved themselves more often than men of today.

What was an event of Jones defeating Ruiz [who at best was a top five heavyweight at the time] back in 2004, was standard in Sullivan, Fitzsimmons, and even Jack Dempsey's time. From Langford battling from welterweight to heavyweight, to Mickey Walker taking on Sharkey, Wright, and Schmeling, its a tradition that seems lost on todays fighters, who only want to prove themselves in their own 'weight class' and on their own 'terms', when the next weight class is only three pounds ahead. You honestly think three or five pounds would have mattered then?

To be the best, you had to fight the best, with what tools you learned and on what assets you had been born with. Simple as that.

***

The greatest knock the old-timers have against them is that their fights, for the most part, would be considered 'boring' today. Think Akinwande-Lewis or Ruiz-Rahman, and you get the picture. Alot of holds, clinching. But what many fail to still realize is that, again, these were men protecting their fists at all times, and were men who were picking their shots. Take a gander, some time, at the age old 'sparring session' of Tunney and Corbett and you will see what I am referring to here. Even Tunney's technique seems a notch below the aging Corbett's step by step instruction on avoiding shots and delivering blows from even the most oddest of angles. These men, were masters of their craft. They never wasted a shot if they could help it.

***

John L. Sullivan said on several occassions if Mitchell and Kilrain 'fought like men', rather than ran and threw themselves to the ground to end rounds [London Prize Ring rules] he would have knocked them out sooner than he did or would have won decisively. He was probably correct, for both Mitchell and Kilrain's styles mirrored eachother, dodging, grappling, running and taking a knee to avoid Sullivan's rushes. The logic, then, with Sullivan was, the longer a man lasted, the more certain it was Sullivan would eventually fall and lose steam. Unfortunately neither man was ever fully able to prove the point. The first Mitchell bout was stopped by police, the second didnt happen at all, and the third was declared a draw when the rain became too much for the two men who fought over two hours, though Mitchell hit canvas over sixty times. Kilrain, for all intents and purposes, was done by the thirty-sixth round, though it would go on for another 39 rounds, as his plan to dodge and take knees to end rounds from the first to the 30th.

The only two men to hold the distinction of going the distance with Sullivan was Alf Greenfield and Tug Wilson, and they accomplished it in the same manner. The difference was the Mitchell and Kilrain bouts were London Prize, the Greenfield and Wilson bouts were Marquis of Queensbury, scheduled for four rounds a piece. They threw themselves to the floor several times, taking counts, to avoid Sullivan's punches, lasting the distance, and collecting Sullivan's $500-1,000 challenges to anyone who could last four rounds with him.

It is obvious, though, that eventually Wilson and Greenfield would have lost, as their 'counts' would only give Sullivan more rest time, and they would be the ones exurting the most energy by picking their own selves off the floor, and had they 'fought like men', they more than likely wouldn't have stood a chance at all.

***

Again, we reach a cross road, again we question the fighters of Sullivan' time and their abilities. It seems that Sullivan took on mere novices, or men schooled in London Prize Ring rules, and little else. Who, if any, was out there to have really had a stand up fight with 'The Great John L'? The answer is inconclusive to be honest. Sullivan, like today's champions, fought alot of old men on his way to the top. Some, like Tom Allan, he did not meet in the ring, though he would take on Paddy Ryan three times, who was passed his best even in the first bout he had with John L.

The list of challengers for his title were built on as much bullshit as they were skilled in their own right: Herbert Slade (wrestler more so than boxer, and just plain big), Ryan, Mitchell, Kilrain, Greenfield, Wilson, were all of the London Prize Ring ilk, while McCaffery, Cardiff, Herald, and McDonald were Marquis of Queensbury through and through.

With the exception of Jem Mace (who offered to fight Sullivan, if, and only if Sullivan let him last the four rounds; which Sullivan refused), the only true viable challengers out there for his title was Frank Slavin, George Godfrey and Peter Jackson. He, of course, refused Jackson altogether, toyed with the idea of facing Godfrey but never did, and only called out Slavin because of Sullivan's hurt feelings over his failed tour of Australia (Slavin was the top man in Australia). In the end it was Corbett who managed to put up the $10,000 bond to secure a bout with Sullivan.

All in all, Sullivan's career opponents, at best, may be described or rated as being of the lower rung, in today's standards, in comparison to contenders today, but they were, in alot of senses, the top men of their time. It would be likened to a 'state' champion taking on a world's champion, in alot of ways, but then again, in Sullivan's time it was never done before, where a man truly 'challenged' America, from state to state, and country to country.

Still, some argue that maybe Sullivan's best challengers only came about in his later years because, again, boxing was becoming more 'science' than ever before.

While this may be no more evidence than it is a testament to Sullivan's punching power, we must fast forward some thirteen years after Sullivan's bout with Jim Corbett. Sullivan was now forty-six years old and 273 pounds, held an exhibition bout against Jim McCormick, a man considered to be the next Heavyweight king, in line for Jim Jeffries title. The first round of this scheduled four rounder, was actually fast paced, and both men (McCormick was in his 20's) were breathing heavily at the end. In the second, came the surprise. At 1:23 of the second, one of Sullivan's blows landed on McCormick's jaw, reeling the man backwards into a corner, where he lay unconscious for five minutes!

Sullivan, at once, broke into his old routine of challenging anyone in the audience $100 to last the four rounds with him, and offered out challenges to Jeffries and Fitzsimmons, and anyone else in the world. Later on Sullivan and McCormick would put on exhibitions throughout the United States. Many thought the bout was a fix, but McCormick swore til the day he passed on that, though Sullivan was grossly out of shape, he had been genuinely knocked out by a heavy hitter in John L.

Sullivan was scheduled to take on a Canadian boxer named John W. Phillips, in what was supposedly to be his 'come back' fight that same year, but at the last minute, Sullivan changed his mind and had McCormick go in his place.

Some can call this bout a fluke, that anyone can get knocked out on any given night by any given opponent, but, if Sullivan was a 'dinosaur' both in age and technique and condition the night he lost to Corbett, supposedly light years ahead of Sullivan as a boxer, how can it be that a man, more than a decade ahead of even Corbett's time, certainly more knowledgeable than both of them, in the prime of his life, in the running for the heavyweight title, lose to a man who now resembled something of a walrus?

***

After Sullivan lost to Gentleman Jim Corbett in New Orleans, future heavyweight title holder and boxing's first triple crown champion, Bob Fitzsimmons lamented the fact that the Marquis of Queensbury rules had won over the bare knuckle style, that his childhood idols made of that ilk were 'gone, never to return' and that all competitors in the future were to be 'as children' in comparison to the old timers.

This statement has echoed ever since, as boxing has went through many changes indeed. From an original set of rules that had no clarity in the scheduled amount of rounds in championship bouts, no neutral corner rule, and no specifications to the size of gloves, which more or less made boxing a marathon competition with bouts going more than 200 rounds, and frequent fouls.

Wouldn't be until the year Dempsey lost to Tunney in the 'long count' bout that a neutral corner rule was introduced. That was 1927. Wouldn't be until 1903 that two ounce gloves were replaced with five ounce, and later six ounce gloves. In 1991 six ounce gloves were dismissed and replaced with eight ounce and ten ounce gloves.

In 1982 fifteen round championship bouts were made a thing of the past when the WBC issued a statement that from then on out all bouts would be twelve rounds maximum. The IBF and WBA soon followed suit. Some have argued it was because of television scheduling that this happened, and not because of Boom Boom Mancini's brutal bout with Korean Duk Koo Kim, who died in a coma following his 14th round kayo loss to Mancini.

From Corbett to Joe Louis there were championship bouts scheduled for as much as 20 rounds. The reasoning behind the cut in length to these 'fight to the finish' bouts, for the most part, was that the longer fights went on, the slower and less active the fighters became, and the more bored the audiences.

Ironically it was the exact opposite of this thinking that made alot of fighters in the early 20th century, following the invention of motion pictures, carried their opponents purposely to generate more money from the reciepts from theatre sales. The longer the fight, the more bang they got for their buck.

In champion Jim Jeffries time it was quite common for fights to be scheduled for twenty rounds regardless of a title or not, and that most championship bouts were forty five rounds. When he fought Corbett their first bout went 23 rounds. When he fought Sharkey they fought 26 rounds in their rematch. When he would fight Choynski they would fight to a 20 round draw. And there were no neutral corner rule, and gloves were generally three to five ounces. Compare that to today's 12 round championship bouts with eight to ten ounce gloves, it raises the question of whether we have gotten pretty tame in recent years, or we have done made boxing a more faster, and action packed sport because of it.

Larry Holmes and other fighters from the fifteen round generation still say today that twelve rounds are not serious enough to be considered championship level bouts, that it takes a special kind of fighter to go fifteen rounds. But does three more rounds actually mean that much? Its the general opinion that it does, but there's also the flip side to the equation, that the longer a fight is scheduled, the more a fighter can coast, that he can actually afford to lose a round or two, to rest more inbetween, rather than have to exert himself, had the fight been scheduled for less.

A prime example for this was Jim Corbett's bout with Peter Jackson. They fought 61 rounds before it was declared a no-contest, and the fight for the most part was described as being light, slow paced, and neither man landing anything of consequence. Some argue to this day that the fight was more significant, that Jackson had the better of it, or that Corbett did, but the truth is that had the fight been scheduled for much less, it is more than likely that the two men would have pressed their wills on the other to gain an advantage.

John L. Sullivan, for the most part, loved fights being scheduled for less, and with the gloves, stating that his style suited the Marquis of Queensbury much better than London Prize Ring rules, that it forced an opponent to either do or die. Most of Sullivan's exhibitions and actual championship matches were no less than four and no more than seven rounds.

There is alot of sense in Sullivan's look on bout lengths, and in one case, at least, it can be justified. Take a look at the mediocre Eric Esch's career and outside of one bout, every one was scheduled for four rounds. It's quite simple to see that a man of Esch's bulk and low skill level would be more better off in a lower round format than ten rounds. This was proven, to an extent, when he took on the aged Larry Holmes in a ten rounder, and was grossly out pointed.

Many criticized Esch due to Holmes being into his 50's, but they couldn't seem to realize, considering Esch's style and size, that 12 minutes compared to 30 is quite a difference, and had it been scheduled for four rounds, the scores would have been more kinder to Esch. Also, had the fight been four rounds, its possible that Holmes would have felt the urge to quicken his pace, to get closer to Esch, and because of that, he would have been in the bralwers punching range.

So in essence, we can draw to a conclusion that depending on styles, certain round lengths, as well as the equipment, can ultimately change the results dramatically.

[HomicideHenry]

I wrote this with Kym in mind, as well as a few others on the forum, who I cant count how many times have asked, speculated, and debated the ways of bareknuckle fighting men, and early Queensbury rules era competitors. I hope this sheds some light on the matter.

[Goodnight, Irene]

Their training was just fine...it was their diet & approach to nutrition which falls short of the modern world.

[Grimm]

Intrigued that such a good read could come from a suckeye fan.

[St McComas]

I've been intrigued with comparisons to past and present athletes. It would have been interesting to get a time on the first Marathon (the actual first "marathon" run from the battlefield at Marathon to Athens) and then compare that time to what runners are doing today. But there is another angle. In 427 BC, the City of Athens sent a trireme (big boat full of oarsmen) to Mytilene, 340 kilometers away. The boat was sent to prevent the massacre of every man in the town. That's because earlier, another boat had set sail with the order to kill all men in the town. But then, the "City Council" in Athens changed their minds, so they sent out the second boat to stop the killings. The second trireme had to beat the other boat with the head start. Oarsmen rowed for 24 hours straight, beat the other boat to port and prevented the massacre. What's interesting is in the last century, no rowing boat has ever been able to make that trip in 24 hours.

Where the Greek oarsmen stronger than any oarsmen of today?

I think they were. Scientists who study stuff like that call it working strength. There are other examples too, but every day working activities may have produced tougher guys in the past compared to fellas of today.

Well, not stronger than me.

[Goodnight, Irene]

Fitter & tougher can be two different things. I've got no doubt --- none --- that the average toughness of a man in the Middle Ages would put today's everyman to shame. He may or may not have been fitter.

[The Great John L]

Fitter & tougher can be two different things. I've got no doubt --- none --- that the average toughness of a man in the Middle Ages would put today's everyman to shame. He may or may not have been fitter.

I have absolutley no doubt that the average fitness of the everyman of the middle ages was light years better than the fitness of the modern everyman. The same is true of the average man of 50 years ago. The majority of people during prior eras did physical labor, and many times it was long and very demanding labor, while most today are not even interested in phyiscal labor. That has nothing to do with the fitness of top modern athletes, but the average person had a much better starting point than the majority do today.

[Goodnight, Irene]

Fitter & tougher can be two different things. I've got no doubt --- none --- that the average toughness of a man in the Middle Ages would put today's everyman to shame. He may or may not have been fitter.

I have absolutley no doubt that the average fitness of the everyman of the middle ages was light years better than the fitness of the modern everyman. The same is true of the average man of 50 years ago. The majority of people during prior eras did physical labor, and many times it was long and very demanding labor, while most today are not even interested in phyiscal labor. That has nothing to do with the fitness of top modern athletes, but the average person had a much better starting point than the majority do today.

You're probably only considering the everyman in your country --- gluttonous America. It's a big world. Lots to consider.

[The Great John L]

Fitter & tougher can be two different things. I've got no doubt --- none --- that the average toughness of a man in the Middle Ages would put today's everyman to shame. He may or may not have been fitter.

I have absolutley no doubt that the average fitness of the everyman of the middle ages was light years better than the fitness of the modern everyman. The same is true of the average man of 50 years ago. The majority of people during prior eras did physical labor, and many times it was long and very demanding labor, while most today are not even interested in phyiscal labor. That has nothing to do with the fitness of top modern athletes, but the average person had a much better starting point than the majority do today.

You're probably only considering the everyman in your country --- gluttonous America. It's a big world. Lots to consider.

Well, I'll say the western nations, where in general there are a lot less physical jobs, not just the US.

[dempseyfire]

Fitter & tougher can be two different things. I've got no doubt --- none --- that the average toughness of a man in the Middle Ages would put today's everyman to shame. He may or may not have been fitter.

I have absolutley no doubt that the average fitness of the everyman of the middle ages was light years better than the fitness of the modern everyman. The same is true of the average man of 50 years ago. The majority of people during prior eras did physical labor, and many times it was long and very demanding labor, while most today are not even interested in phyiscal labor. That has nothing to do with the fitness of top modern athletes, but the average person had a much better starting point than the majority do today.

You're probably only considering the everyman in your country --- gluttonous America. It's a big world. Lots to consider.

The amount of physical labor done in the developed world has decreased dramatically.

Globalization and mass production have ensured that even in many Third World countries, people are not making as many things with their hands like they used to, simply b/c they don't have to.

The diet of the average man has also gotten worse. The widespread use of pesticides, hormones, the distance food travels, and even safety measures like pasteurization have resulted in worsening nutritional content for many common everyday foods, not to mention the huge proliferation of junk food in the past 60 years. Back in the 19teens Jack Johnson couldn't slip away from training camp to down a Big Mac and twinkies from the local gas station b/c that crap didn't exist (and let me clarify, even though it's crap, I do love the taste of Big Macs . . . yum)

[The Great John L]

I’ve read a number of accounts about the diets of prize fighters from earlier eras, particularly 19th century and almost all emphasized high protein. Beyond the protein (meat, fish and a rare mention of poultry), there was quite a variance, although breads are mentioned, and most included vegetables and some potatoes, although the primary ingredient of these diets seemed to be high protein. Considering that for the most part breads were whole grain then, it’s hard to find much fault with these diets, unless there were not enough veggies. However I would suspect that they were much healthier than the majority of current HWs.

While I’m sure the Klitschko’s have nutritionists and are selective with their diets, I’m pretty confident they are not the norm, as evidenced by the rather soft appearance of most top HWs. And since most top fighters seem to fight only a few times a year (at most), I’m sure the diet when they are not in camp is pretty sad, and if you don’t follow a diet consistently then it’s benefits are drastically compromised. Add to that the issues mentioned by df, I don’t think the diets of earlier fighters were worse than current norm, and in many respects were probably healthier.

[DamonLicata]

Homicidehenry,
I really enjoy your postings on John L. Sullivan. It is obvious how much time and care have been put into them.
We claim relation to "The Big Guy" as cousins on his father's side. The Sullivan name remained until my great grandmother Alice Sullivan married and became Coghlan, my mother Mary's maiden name.
We are very proud of our distant cousin. I love to see there is still much fanfare for him after such a long time.
"May He Always Be Champion"
Great read : "Strong Boy" by Christopher Klein.
It left out a few things I would have like to have read more about post Corbett, but a great read on the Champion.
Thank you sincerly from the part of my heart that is a Sullivan,
Damon Licata

When debating the pugilists of ages long since passed, it is often said, if not misakenly, that the fighters of pre-Marquis of Queensbury and/or at the dawn and early stages of the rules we know now today [which originally were much different, but we will address those differences later on], were not on par or equal to modern athletes.

It is often the picture painted in our minds that the early ppugilists were either slow and ponderous, wild swinging with little ring science, or more inappropriately, lacked the conditioning to go 'rounds' like fighters do today.

Presently we are conditioned as viewers to almost non-stop movement, punches of various degrees, because of bigger gloves and a three minute duration with a scheduled amount of rounds. It is common knowledge that in a four rounder, a man must make an impact early on, to sweep on points. The longer a fight goes, the less frequent does the boxer have to rely on being active, he/she can afford to lose a round or two.

In the pre-Queensbury rules era, from Figg to Ryan, there never was a designated time limit on a fight at all. Also, with bare fists, it was mandatory, that if a shot was to be thrown, it had to be accurate, on target, and not miss, else you were wasting energies you would need later down the stretch. As a bonus, there was a price to pay if fists were thrown too often to the head, and that was the risk of busting your hand in a bout.

Body punching and grappling were all but necessary in those days, to help save a man from having to use his hands too much. A throw would also buy a man more time if needed, as rounds ended whenever a man was dropped by a hand, or thrown to the canvas.

The man who is generally given the nod as being the true innovator of using gloves in this early stage was John L. Sullivan, though others at his time had also used gloves, such as Jem Mace, who fought twenty some odd years before Sullivan came about. 'The Great John L' perferred gloves over the London Prize Ring rules, which Figg originated, as he knew the importance of protecting your hands [and with his bull rush, counter punching style, he knew bare knuckles would not suit his technique].

Some historians proclaim Marciano to have been the greatest conditioned heavyweight champion of all time, and while this may be true, it is more suitable to say Marciano's training habits were more on par with the fighters of Sullivan's era. 'The Rock' was known to take 20 mile walks and 10 mile runs, not including his sparring and other excercises.

According to John L. Sullivan, this was his standard routine before facing Charlie Mitchell:

"During the first week I am passed through a course of physics by which the stomach is brought into proper condition. During this time I get up every morning at 7 o'clock, walk a mile and breakfast at 8. My bill for fare throughout the training is a simple one. I avoid all greasy or heating foods. My meats are cooked rare and I am prohibited from eating anything rich or sweet. The bread is either toasted or stale. In place of tea or coffee with every meal I am allowed ale or porter. After breakfast I take a cold shower bath, followed by a brisk rubbing of every part of the body with coarse towels. After resting an hour I walk 12 miles, six out and six back, coming in on the last half mile at a high brisk run. This is followed by knocking with dumb bells for about an hour. They weigh a pound and a half and the excercise affects the muscles of the arm. After dinner the excercises of the morning are repeated and supper is followed by another jaunt of 12 miles, more dumb bell knocking, a cold water sponge bath, a thorough rubbing and finally about 9 o'clock to bed. This is kept every day until the day of the meeting. I will be relieved of about thirty pounds of superfluous flesh and ought to weigh 185 pounds when I step into the ring."


Now mind you, Sullivan, like Roberto Duran and Jake LaMotta notably, had the problem of gaining excess weight inbetween bouts, going from 195 to as much as 280 pounds. Before meeting Jake Kilrain the champion was nearly 250 pounds, sixty pounds over his regular fighting weight. William Muldoon, champion wrestler and one of the founders of sports fitness here in America, trained Sullivan down to 209 pounds. Sullivan, by the end of his training was able to do 800-900 repititions with the jump rope, countless rounds with the punching bag, his wrestling sessions with Muldoon, and his nearly 36 mile a day walks!

As far as the cardio is concerned, I think its safe to say Sullivan, even in the 1880's was comparable to Marciano, whose training habits were considered, even today, phenomenal.

Paddy Ryan, though not a celebrated champion (who technically defeated nobody to gain the title), had a similar routine as well, before taking on John L. Sullivan the first time:

"My first object will be to thoroughly purify my system, which will occupy probably a week. Then I will start in on schedule time. At 5:30 every morning I will arise, and after taking a little old sherry and a crust of stale bread I will saunter along the road for three miles just to get up an appetite. Breakfast will be ready upon returning, the principle food being either muttonchops or beefsteak, medium cooked, with just enough salt upon it to make it palatable, in addition to dry toast and a cup of tea, with neither sugar nor milk. A rest is taken after breakfast for 3/4 of an hour, then the hard work of the day commences. Encased in heavy flannels and with a heavy pair of walking shoes I start on a ten mile tramp; five miles and return. The pace must be a severe one, and the last half mile of the distance is accomplished on a fast run. I then jump into bed with heavy coverings and remain there until prespiration ceases. I will then be subjected to a good hard rubbing and afterward take a bath in luke warm water. Being rubbed perfectly dry I don a suit of light clothes and journey quietly around til dinner time, which is set promptly at 12:30pm. The meal consists of roast beef, and sometimes boiled leg of mutton is allowed, vegetables once in a while are included, in addition to dry toast and a bottle of Bass or Scotch ale. After dinner a row is indulged in for about 3/4 of an hour, and then a set for 1/2 hour additional. Dumb-bells, weighing 2 1/2 pounds each, are fondled with for some time. Particular care is taken to keep the limbs always in motion. Supper consists of a couple of boiled eggs, some toast and a cup of tea. A walk around is afterward taken until time arrives for retiring, which is between 9 and 9:30pm. The last effort of the day is take up the dumb bells, rattle them hard until you fairly drop into bed a very tired man."

Dieting, strength resistance excercises, and extreme cardio seemed to have been the main course of training in those days.

Often times the argument is thrown against Sullivan that when he faced Jim Corbett, that he was simply a man from a different era and knew little of ring science and was hence easily defeated by Corbett, who was the new 'era' of pugilism. This is a ridiculous notion for several good reasons:

-There were novices even in Sullivan's time; Flood for example was merely a street fighter, whom Sullivan easily dispatched, though Flood was the betting favorite over the then unknown Sullivan. It is easy to see, on Sullivan's future American and European tours, that there were none of the rough and tumble style, usually attributed to boxers of Sullivan's time, that was capable of going even four rounds with him---several of these men were dispatched of inside of 30 seconds, one being kayoed in two!

-Sullivan hadn't stepped into the prize ring for over three years, and was by his own admission no longer interested in boxing. His weight swelled to over 280 pounds (some speculated 300), and he was out pricing himself, figuring no one would match the offers. He wanted to be champion, and say he would fight any man in the world at that time as he always proclaimed, but simply didn't have the heart for it any more. His alcoholism was at its all time high, almost dying some months before from 'gastric fever'. In short, he was at his absoloute worst as a fighter.

-Corbett is often over looked in the strength department, he himself did posess not only fast hands and feet, but a hard punch, though admittedly not as powerful as Sullivan's. Also, Corbett was very much at the peak of his pugilistic powers, as he would never again be the dominant force as he was against Jackson, Kilrain, Mitchell and Sullivan, losing his title not too long after winning it without much defenses.

-John L. Sullivan is given very little credit for his own abilities in the ring. While he was known as 'The American Hercules' as well as 'The Boston Strong Boy', he wasn't just a haymaker throwing, rushing brute. Sullivan was very much a counter puncher, using a chopping left to strike down his opponents jab, to counter with a crushing right. Sullivan was just as deadly as a body puncher as well, breaking down the guard to finally get a shot at his opponents head. Also, it must be noted, Sullivan, like many of his fellow boxers of his time, was an expert of the human anatomy, knowing where blows would be most critical, as he would often hit down on the back of the head and neck, behind the ear or flush on the jaw, to floor his opponents down and out. Sullivan, by the time he had defeated Kilrain, was considered by even his most damning critics as being capable of defeating any champion before him, and that at his best would certainly have defeated both Peter Jackson and Jim Corbett on the same night, under either London Prize or Queensbury rules. He was more than capable of parrying blows, and his fists were delivering blows from the shoulder at such speeds that Sullivan was often described as a lightweight in movement.

-To criticize John L for his lack of ring science against the more groomed tacticians of his time [Mitchell, Kilrain] is to criticize Jeffries, Dempsey, Marciano, Frazier and Tyson, as these men also did not possess much ring science, but fought men of their own time who did: Johnson, Tunney, Walcott, Ali, Lewis! There are various styles, and whether people agree with it or not, Sullivan was of the mold of the same swarmers that gave the so-called greatest tacticians trouble in the ring.

-Boxing, for the most part, is a sport of the young, not the old. Sullivan was in his mid 30's and already showing signs of gray hair on his head, while Corbett, as stated earlier, was at his absoloute physical peak. It wouldn't be too long after the Corbett fight, that Sullivan would be completely gray of beard and hair and balloon to 300 pounds, appearing to be nearly two decades older than he was, appearing more like Santa Claus than a former heavyweight champion of the world.

Still, even at that stage of his career, Sullivan lasted 21 rounds with arguably the best heavyweight in the world at that time, even though it was apparent from rounds three til the 21st, despite Sullivan managing a flash knockdown on Corbett in the 18th, that Sullivan was essentially 'done' as champion. It may have been, in a sense, more one sided than Jeffries/Johnson. How was Sullivan able to achieve this?

It if often stated, argued and debated that the old-timers were 'tougher' than men of today. There is a kind of notion to believe this to be true, as gloves today are so much larger than then, and with scheduled round distances, and referees always on guard, that boxers are more protected and receive less injury. In those days, fights could last anywhere from an hour to three, even in Marquis' early days, fights of a scheduled 45 round distance or more were quite frequent. It still was a 'fight to the finish' in many a critic's mind then.

However, the smaller a glove is, the less likely will you see fists fly as often as they do now. The more rounds there is, the less likely it is, no matter how conditioned you are, will you see two combatants make a 'fight of it' for twenty, thirty or more rounds. While it is true a bare fist is more then likely to cause a knockout than a gloved fist can, studies are showing more and more that the logic of being knocked out early is better than being battered a whole distance.

Still, people argue that the old-timers were 'tougher'. But there are many cases in point that there have been far more ring deaths, more brain injuries, and dementia associated with boxers of the last 75 years than there has been in the entire 'era' of London Prize Ring Rules from Figg to Sullivan's win over Jake Kilrain.

Infamous 'white collar circuit' pugilist Lenny McLean once said that with a glove you could hit a man harder over a longer period of time than you could with a bare fist, and that the Queensbury rules were detrimental to a man's body more so than London Prize Ring rules ever were, as it is suited for faster action, thicker gloves, meaning more head punches. McLean and others are often mocked and barred from any opinion, simply because they were never 'professionals' in the eyes of the public or on paper, though the tradition of bare knuckle prize fighting has been going on for over 100 years since Kilrain met defeat at Sullivan's hands.

Tougher or not, the evidence clearly does show, that today's fighters have shorter careers than men of Sullivan's time. You cannot say it was because of a lack of challengers, as Sullivan and several others fought literally hundreds of men, and you cannot say it was because of the rules being so different [London Prize vs modern Queensbury], as a throw from a grappling move or other similar tactic over a prolonged period of time can shorten a career just as quick [think UFC for a moment and notice how short their careers are in comparison to a boxers].

The answer lies in the equipment, when it comes to toughness, plain and simple.

***

Alot of guys today have expressed the axiom 'We know what the old guys knew and more', when it comes to ring technique and conditioning, but it seems it is seldom applied in the Heavyweight division any more. Today we see heavyweights who are 240-280 pounds who should be coming in at 210-220. It is said but never applied. Possibly Evander Holyfield's success into his late 40's is due to his strong work ethic outside the ring, in comparison to his opponents as much as twnety years his junior.

In the lighter weight classes, training, however, seems to still be crucial to make weight. But with the countless weight classes in effect today, as well as the ever popular 'catchweight' fights of Pacquia in recent months, can it be said that guys today are more pampered to knuckle down than the old guys? It still screams blasphemy that guys today can possibly be more conditioned than men then. Even 50 years ago, when LaMotta was struggling to get down from 175 or more to 160 or less, more times than not he accomplished his goal to make weight, you knew he trained without excuse!

Today there's 18 weight classes. In LaMotta's time there were eight. In Sullivan's time there were but three: Heavyweight, Middleweight and Lightweight. Anyone over 160 pounds was considered a heavyweight then, and anyone under 130 pounds was considered a Lightweight. There was a twenty pound disparity between heavyweight and lightweight. Today there are three weight classes in between middleweight and heavyweight, and seven between heavyweight and lightweight.

In alot of instances, I am sure it would have benefited some fighters to have had more weight classes in their time, and certainly more matches would have been considered "fair" [even Sullivan would often give an opponent a chance to take on one of his sparring partners closer to their weight rather than take him on, as he was anywhere between 195-240 pounds, and most his opposition were in the 160's or 180's].

But at the same time, it also makes us wonder, if guys like Bob Fitzsimmons could fight around 167 and still knock out guys outweighing him by 100 pounds or more, are the old timers superior because they fought in such harsher conditions, or is guys like Fitzsimmons the exception, not the rule?

Some critics point out that guys like Fitzsimmons, Burns, O'Brien and others who went from middleweight to heavyweight mainly fought men closer to their own weights anyways, so there wasn't much of a difference to begin with---still, 160 and up is quite a range at heavyweight compared to the 200 and up it is today. Myself, I am on the opinion that the old timers were better in this regard, as they tested themselves, sometimes beyond their limits and capacities, and proved themselves more often than men of today.

What was an event of Jones defeating Ruiz [who at best was a top five heavyweight at the time] back in 2004, was standard in Sullivan, Fitzsimmons, and even Jack Dempsey's time. From Langford battling from welterweight to heavyweight, to Mickey Walker taking on Sharkey, Wright, and Schmeling, its a tradition that seems lost on todays fighters, who only want to prove themselves in their own 'weight class' and on their own 'terms', when the next weight class is only three pounds ahead. You honestly think three or five pounds would have mattered then?

To be the best, you had to fight the best, with what tools you learned and on what assets you had been born with. Simple as that.

***

The greatest knock the old-timers have against them is that their fights, for the most part, would be considered 'boring' today. Think Akinwande-Lewis or Ruiz-Rahman, and you get the picture. Alot of holds, clinching. But what many fail to still realize is that, again, these were men protecting their fists at all times, and were men who were picking their shots. Take a gander, some time, at the age old 'sparring session' of Tunney and Corbett and you will see what I am referring to here. Even Tunney's technique seems a notch below the aging Corbett's step by step instruction on avoiding shots and delivering blows from even the most oddest of angles. These men, were masters of their craft. They never wasted a shot if they could help it.

***

John L. Sullivan said on several occassions if Mitchell and Kilrain 'fought like men', rather than ran and threw themselves to the ground to end rounds [London Prize Ring rules] he would have knocked them out sooner than he did or would have won decisively. He was probably correct, for both Mitchell and Kilrain's styles mirrored eachother, dodging, grappling, running and taking a knee to avoid Sullivan's rushes. The logic, then, with Sullivan was, the longer a man lasted, the more certain it was Sullivan would eventually fall and lose steam. Unfortunately neither man was ever fully able to prove the point. The first Mitchell bout was stopped by police, the second didnt happen at all, and the third was declared a draw when the rain became too much for the two men who fought over two hours, though Mitchell hit canvas over sixty times. Kilrain, for all intents and purposes, was done by the thirty-sixth round, though it would go on for another 39 rounds, as his plan to dodge and take knees to end rounds from the first to the 30th.

The only two men to hold the distinction of going the distance with Sullivan was Alf Greenfield and Tug Wilson, and they accomplished it in the same manner. The difference was the Mitchell and Kilrain bouts were London Prize, the Greenfield and Wilson bouts were Marquis of Queensbury, scheduled for four rounds a piece. They threw themselves to the floor several times, taking counts, to avoid Sullivan's punches, lasting the distance, and collecting Sullivan's $500-1,000 challenges to anyone who could last four rounds with him.

It is obvious, though, that eventually Wilson and Greenfield would have lost, as their 'counts' would only give Sullivan more rest time, and they would be the ones exurting the most energy by picking their own selves off the floor, and had they 'fought like men', they more than likely wouldn't have stood a chance at all.

***

Again, we reach a cross road, again we question the fighters of Sullivan' time and their abilities. It seems that Sullivan took on mere novices, or men schooled in London Prize Ring rules, and little else. Who, if any, was out there to have really had a stand up fight with 'The Great John L'? The answer is inconclusive to be honest. Sullivan, like today's champions, fought alot of old men on his way to the top. Some, like Tom Allan, he did not meet in the ring, though he would take on Paddy Ryan three times, who was passed his best even in the first bout he had with John L.

The list of challengers for his title were built on as much bullshit as they were skilled in their own right: Herbert Slade (wrestler more so than boxer, and just plain big), Ryan, Mitchell, Kilrain, Greenfield, Wilson, were all of the London Prize Ring ilk, while McCaffery, Cardiff, Herald, and McDonald were Marquis of Queensbury through and through.

With the exception of Jem Mace (who offered to fight Sullivan, if, and only if Sullivan let him last the four rounds; which Sullivan refused), the only true viable challengers out there for his title was Frank Slavin, George Godfrey and Peter Jackson. He, of course, refused Jackson altogether, toyed with the idea of facing Godfrey but never did, and only called out Slavin because of Sullivan's hurt feelings over his failed tour of Australia (Slavin was the top man in Australia). In the end it was Corbett who managed to put up the $10,000 bond to secure a bout with Sullivan.

All in all, Sullivan's career opponents, at best, may be described or rated as being of the lower rung, in today's standards, in comparison to contenders today, but they were, in alot of senses, the top men of their time. It would be likened to a 'state' champion taking on a world's champion, in alot of ways, but then again, in Sullivan's time it was never done before, where a man truly 'challenged' America, from state to state, and country to country.

Still, some argue that maybe Sullivan's best challengers only came about in his later years because, again, boxing was becoming more 'science' than ever before.

While this may be no more evidence than it is a testament to Sullivan's punching power, we must fast forward some thirteen years after Sullivan's bout with Jim Corbett. Sullivan was now forty-six years old and 273 pounds, held an exhibition bout against Jim McCormick, a man considered to be the next Heavyweight king, in line for Jim Jeffries title. The first round of this scheduled four rounder, was actually fast paced, and both men (McCormick was in his 20's) were breathing heavily at the end. In the second, came the surprise. At 1:23 of the second, one of Sullivan's blows landed on McCormick's jaw, reeling the man backwards into a corner, where he lay unconscious for five minutes!

Sullivan, at once, broke into his old routine of challenging anyone in the audience $100 to last the four rounds with him, and offered out challenges to Jeffries and Fitzsimmons, and anyone else in the world. Later on Sullivan and McCormick would put on exhibitions throughout the United States. Many thought the bout was a fix, but McCormick swore til the day he passed on that, though Sullivan was grossly out of shape, he had been genuinely knocked out by a heavy hitter in John L.

Sullivan was scheduled to take on a Canadian boxer named John W. Phillips, in what was supposedly to be his 'come back' fight that same year, but at the last minute, Sullivan changed his mind and had McCormick go in his place.

Some can call this bout a fluke, that anyone can get knocked out on any given night by any given opponent, but, if Sullivan was a 'dinosaur' both in age and technique and condition the night he lost to Corbett, supposedly light years ahead of Sullivan as a boxer, how can it be that a man, more than a decade ahead of even Corbett's time, certainly more knowledgeable than both of them, in the prime of his life, in the running for the heavyweight title, lose to a man who now resembled something of a walrus?

***

After Sullivan lost to Gentleman Jim Corbett in New Orleans, future heavyweight title holder and boxing's first triple crown champion, Bob Fitzsimmons lamented the fact that the Marquis of Queensbury rules had won over the bare knuckle style, that his childhood idols made of that ilk were 'gone, never to return' and that all competitors in the future were to be 'as children' in comparison to the old timers.

This statement has echoed ever since, as boxing has went through many changes indeed. From an original set of rules that had no clarity in the scheduled amount of rounds in championship bouts, no neutral corner rule, and no specifications to the size of gloves, which more or less made boxing a marathon competition with bouts going more than 200 rounds, and frequent fouls.

Wouldn't be until the year Dempsey lost to Tunney in the 'long count' bout that a neutral corner rule was introduced. That was 1927. Wouldn't be until 1903 that two ounce gloves were replaced with five ounce, and later six ounce gloves. In 1991 six ounce gloves were dismissed and replaced with eight ounce and ten ounce gloves.

In 1982 fifteen round championship bouts were made a thing of the past when the WBC issued a statement that from then on out all bouts would be twelve rounds maximum. The IBF and WBA soon followed suit. Some have argued it was because of television scheduling that this happened, and not because of Boom Boom Mancini's brutal bout with Korean Duk Koo Kim, who died in a coma following his 14th round kayo loss to Mancini.

From Corbett to Joe Louis there were championship bouts scheduled for as much as 20 rounds. The reasoning behind the cut in length to these 'fight to the finish' bouts, for the most part, was that the longer fights went on, the slower and less active the fighters became, and the more bored the audiences.

Ironically it was the exact opposite of this thinking that made alot of fighters in the early 20th century, following the invention of motion pictures, carried their opponents purposely to generate more money from the reciepts from theatre sales. The longer the fight, the more bang they got for their buck.

In champion Jim Jeffries time it was quite common for fights to be scheduled for twenty rounds regardless of a title or not, and that most championship bouts were forty five rounds. When he fought Corbett their first bout went 23 rounds. When he fought Sharkey they fought 26 rounds in their rematch. When he would fight Choynski they would fight to a 20 round draw. And there were no neutral corner rule, and gloves were generally three to five ounces. Compare that to today's 12 round championship bouts with eight to ten ounce gloves, it raises the question of whether we have gotten pretty tame in recent years, or we have done made boxing a more faster, and action packed sport because of it.

Larry Holmes and other fighters from the fifteen round generation still say today that twelve rounds are not serious enough to be considered championship level bouts, that it takes a special kind of fighter to go fifteen rounds. But does three more rounds actually mean that much? Its the general opinion that it does, but there's also the flip side to the equation, that the longer a fight is scheduled, the more a fighter can coast, that he can actually afford to lose a round or two, to rest more inbetween, rather than have to exert himself, had the fight been scheduled for less.

A prime example for this was Jim Corbett's bout with Peter Jackson. They fought 61 rounds before it was declared a no-contest, and the fight for the most part was described as being light, slow paced, and neither man landing anything of consequence. Some argue to this day that the fight was more significant, that Jackson had the better of it, or that Corbett did, but the truth is that had the fight been scheduled for much less, it is more than likely that the two men would have pressed their wills on the other to gain an advantage.

John L. Sullivan, for the most part, loved fights being scheduled for less, and with the gloves, stating that his style suited the Marquis of Queensbury much better than London Prize Ring rules, that it forced an opponent to either do or die. Most of Sullivan's exhibitions and actual championship matches were no less than four and no more than seven rounds.

There is alot of sense in Sullivan's look on bout lengths, and in one case, at least, it can be justified. Take a look at the mediocre Eric Esch's career and outside of one bout, every one was scheduled for four rounds. It's quite simple to see that a man of Esch's bulk and low skill level would be more better off in a lower round format than ten rounds. This was proven, to an extent, when he took on the aged Larry Holmes in a ten rounder, and was grossly out pointed.

Many criticized Esch due to Holmes being into his 50's, but they couldn't seem to realize, considering Esch's style and size, that 12 minutes compared to 30 is quite a difference, and had it been scheduled for four rounds, the scores would have been more kinder to Esch. Also, had the fight been four rounds, its possible that Holmes would have felt the urge to quicken his pace, to get closer to Esch, and because of that, he would have been in the bralwers punching range.

So in essence, we can draw to a conclusion that depending on styles, certain round lengths, as well as the equipment, can ultimately change the results dramatically.

[Onetimeonly]

No doubt modern training falls miles short in boxing. Even 30 years ago heavyweights kept a hotter pace than lightweights do now.

[HomicideHenry]

Homicidehenry,
I really enjoy your postings on John L. Sullivan. It is obvious how much time and care have been put into them.
We claim relation to "The Big Guy" as cousins on his father's side. The Sullivan name remained until my great grandmother Alice Sullivan married and became Coghlan, my mother Mary's maiden name.
We are very proud of our distant cousin. I love to see there is still much fanfare for him after such a long time.
"May He Always Be Champion"
Great read : "Strong Boy" by Christopher Klein.
It left out a few things I would have like to have read more about post Corbett, but a great read on the Champion.
Thank you sincerly from the part of my heart that is a Sullivan,
Damon Licata

When debating the pugilists of ages long since passed, it is often said, if not misakenly, that the fighters of pre-Marquis of Queensbury and/or at the dawn and early stages of the rules we know now today [which originally were much different, but we will address those differences later on], were not on par or equal to modern athletes.

It is often the picture painted in our minds that the early ppugilists were either slow and ponderous, wild swinging with little ring science, or more inappropriately, lacked the conditioning to go 'rounds' like fighters do today.

Presently we are conditioned as viewers to almost non-stop movement, punches of various degrees, because of bigger gloves and a three minute duration with a scheduled amount of rounds. It is common knowledge that in a four rounder, a man must make an impact early on, to sweep on points. The longer a fight goes, the less frequent does the boxer have to rely on being active, he/she can afford to lose a round or two.

In the pre-Queensbury rules era, from Figg to Ryan, there never was a designated time limit on a fight at all. Also, with bare fists, it was mandatory, that if a shot was to be thrown, it had to be accurate, on target, and not miss, else you were wasting energies you would need later down the stretch. As a bonus, there was a price to pay if fists were thrown too often to the head, and that was the risk of busting your hand in a bout.

Body punching and grappling were all but necessary in those days, to help save a man from having to use his hands too much. A throw would also buy a man more time if needed, as rounds ended whenever a man was dropped by a hand, or thrown to the canvas.

The man who is generally given the nod as being the true innovator of using gloves in this early stage was John L. Sullivan, though others at his time had also used gloves, such as Jem Mace, who fought twenty some odd years before Sullivan came about. 'The Great John L' perferred gloves over the London Prize Ring rules, which Figg originated, as he knew the importance of protecting your hands [and with his bull rush, counter punching style, he knew bare knuckles would not suit his technique].

Some historians proclaim Marciano to have been the greatest conditioned heavyweight champion of all time, and while this may be true, it is more suitable to say Marciano's training habits were more on par with the fighters of Sullivan's era. 'The Rock' was known to take 20 mile walks and 10 mile runs, not including his sparring and other excercises.

According to John L. Sullivan, this was his standard routine before facing Charlie Mitchell:

"During the first week I am passed through a course of physics by which the stomach is brought into proper condition. During this time I get up every morning at 7 o'clock, walk a mile and breakfast at 8. My bill for fare throughout the training is a simple one. I avoid all greasy or heating foods. My meats are cooked rare and I am prohibited from eating anything rich or sweet. The bread is either toasted or stale. In place of tea or coffee with every meal I am allowed ale or porter. After breakfast I take a cold shower bath, followed by a brisk rubbing of every part of the body with coarse towels. After resting an hour I walk 12 miles, six out and six back, coming in on the last half mile at a high brisk run. This is followed by knocking with dumb bells for about an hour. They weigh a pound and a half and the excercise affects the muscles of the arm. After dinner the excercises of the morning are repeated and supper is followed by another jaunt of 12 miles, more dumb bell knocking, a cold water sponge bath, a thorough rubbing and finally about 9 o'clock to bed. This is kept every day until the day of the meeting. I will be relieved of about thirty pounds of superfluous flesh and ought to weigh 185 pounds when I step into the ring."


Now mind you, Sullivan, like Roberto Duran and Jake LaMotta notably, had the problem of gaining excess weight inbetween bouts, going from 195 to as much as 280 pounds. Before meeting Jake Kilrain the champion was nearly 250 pounds, sixty pounds over his regular fighting weight. William Muldoon, champion wrestler and one of the founders of sports fitness here in America, trained Sullivan down to 209 pounds. Sullivan, by the end of his training was able to do 800-900 repititions with the jump rope, countless rounds with the punching bag, his wrestling sessions with Muldoon, and his nearly 36 mile a day walks!

As far as the cardio is concerned, I think its safe to say Sullivan, even in the 1880's was comparable to Marciano, whose training habits were considered, even today, phenomenal.

Paddy Ryan, though not a celebrated champion (who technically defeated nobody to gain the title), had a similar routine as well, before taking on John L. Sullivan the first time:

"My first object will be to thoroughly purify my system, which will occupy probably a week. Then I will start in on schedule time. At 5:30 every morning I will arise, and after taking a little old sherry and a crust of stale bread I will saunter along the road for three miles just to get up an appetite. Breakfast will be ready upon returning, the principle food being either muttonchops or beefsteak, medium cooked, with just enough salt upon it to make it palatable, in addition to dry toast and a cup of tea, with neither sugar nor milk. A rest is taken after breakfast for 3/4 of an hour, then the hard work of the day commences. Encased in heavy flannels and with a heavy pair of walking shoes I start on a ten mile tramp; five miles and return. The pace must be a severe one, and the last half mile of the distance is accomplished on a fast run. I then jump into bed with heavy coverings and remain there until prespiration ceases. I will then be subjected to a good hard rubbing and afterward take a bath in luke warm water. Being rubbed perfectly dry I don a suit of light clothes and journey quietly around til dinner time, which is set promptly at 12:30pm. The meal consists of roast beef, and sometimes boiled leg of mutton is allowed, vegetables once in a while are included, in addition to dry toast and a bottle of Bass or Scotch ale. After dinner a row is indulged in for about 3/4 of an hour, and then a set for 1/2 hour additional. Dumb-bells, weighing 2 1/2 pounds each, are fondled with for some time. Particular care is taken to keep the limbs always in motion. Supper consists of a couple of boiled eggs, some toast and a cup of tea. A walk around is afterward taken until time arrives for retiring, which is between 9 and 9:30pm. The last effort of the day is take up the dumb bells, rattle them hard until you fairly drop into bed a very tired man."

Dieting, strength resistance excercises, and extreme cardio seemed to have been the main course of training in those days.

Often times the argument is thrown against Sullivan that when he faced Jim Corbett, that he was simply a man from a different era and knew little of ring science and was hence easily defeated by Corbett, who was the new 'era' of pugilism. This is a ridiculous notion for several good reasons:

-There were novices even in Sullivan's time; Flood for example was merely a street fighter, whom Sullivan easily dispatched, though Flood was the betting favorite over the then unknown Sullivan. It is easy to see, on Sullivan's future American and European tours, that there were none of the rough and tumble style, usually attributed to boxers of Sullivan's time, that was capable of going even four rounds with him---several of these men were dispatched of inside of 30 seconds, one being kayoed in two!

-Sullivan hadn't stepped into the prize ring for over three years, and was by his own admission no longer interested in boxing. His weight swelled to over 280 pounds (some speculated 300), and he was out pricing himself, figuring no one would match the offers. He wanted to be champion, and say he would fight any man in the world at that time as he always proclaimed, but simply didn't have the heart for it any more. His alcoholism was at its all time high, almost dying some months before from 'gastric fever'. In short, he was at his absoloute worst as a fighter.

-Corbett is often over looked in the strength department, he himself did posess not only fast hands and feet, but a hard punch, though admittedly not as powerful as Sullivan's. Also, Corbett was very much at the peak of his pugilistic powers, as he would never again be the dominant force as he was against Jackson, Kilrain, Mitchell and Sullivan, losing his title not too long after winning it without much defenses.

-John L. Sullivan is given very little credit for his own abilities in the ring. While he was known as 'The American Hercules' as well as 'The Boston Strong Boy', he wasn't just a haymaker throwing, rushing brute. Sullivan was very much a counter puncher, using a chopping left to strike down his opponents jab, to counter with a crushing right. Sullivan was just as deadly as a body puncher as well, breaking down the guard to finally get a shot at his opponents head. Also, it must be noted, Sullivan, like many of his fellow boxers of his time, was an expert of the human anatomy, knowing where blows would be most critical, as he would often hit down on the back of the head and neck, behind the ear or flush on the jaw, to floor his opponents down and out. Sullivan, by the time he had defeated Kilrain, was considered by even his most damning critics as being capable of defeating any champion before him, and that at his best would certainly have defeated both Peter Jackson and Jim Corbett on the same night, under either London Prize or Queensbury rules. He was more than capable of parrying blows, and his fists were delivering blows from the shoulder at such speeds that Sullivan was often described as a lightweight in movement.

-To criticize John L for his lack of ring science against the more groomed tacticians of his time [Mitchell, Kilrain] is to criticize Jeffries, Dempsey, Marciano, Frazier and Tyson, as these men also did not possess much ring science, but fought men of their own time who did: Johnson, Tunney, Walcott, Ali, Lewis! There are various styles, and whether people agree with it or not, Sullivan was of the mold of the same swarmers that gave the so-called greatest tacticians trouble in the ring.

-Boxing, for the most part, is a sport of the young, not the old. Sullivan was in his mid 30's and already showing signs of gray hair on his head, while Corbett, as stated earlier, was at his absoloute physical peak. It wouldn't be too long after the Corbett fight, that Sullivan would be completely gray of beard and hair and balloon to 300 pounds, appearing to be nearly two decades older than he was, appearing more like Santa Claus than a former heavyweight champion of the world.

Still, even at that stage of his career, Sullivan lasted 21 rounds with arguably the best heavyweight in the world at that time, even though it was apparent from rounds three til the 21st, despite Sullivan managing a flash knockdown on Corbett in the 18th, that Sullivan was essentially 'done' as champion. It may have been, in a sense, more one sided than Jeffries/Johnson. How was Sullivan able to achieve this?

It if often stated, argued and debated that the old-timers were 'tougher' than men of today. There is a kind of notion to believe this to be true, as gloves today are so much larger than then, and with scheduled round distances, and referees always on guard, that boxers are more protected and receive less injury. In those days, fights could last anywhere from an hour to three, even in Marquis' early days, fights of a scheduled 45 round distance or more were quite frequent. It still was a 'fight to the finish' in many a critic's mind then.

However, the smaller a glove is, the less likely will you see fists fly as often as they do now. The more rounds there is, the less likely it is, no matter how conditioned you are, will you see two combatants make a 'fight of it' for twenty, thirty or more rounds. While it is true a bare fist is more then likely to cause a knockout than a gloved fist can, studies are showing more and more that the logic of being knocked out early is better than being battered a whole distance.

Still, people argue that the old-timers were 'tougher'. But there are many cases in point that there have been far more ring deaths, more brain injuries, and dementia associated with boxers of the last 75 years than there has been in the entire 'era' of London Prize Ring Rules from Figg to Sullivan's win over Jake Kilrain.

Infamous 'white collar circuit' pugilist Lenny McLean once said that with a glove you could hit a man harder over a longer period of time than you could with a bare fist, and that the Queensbury rules were detrimental to a man's body more so than London Prize Ring rules ever were, as it is suited for faster action, thicker gloves, meaning more head punches. McLean and others are often mocked and barred from any opinion, simply because they were never 'professionals' in the eyes of the public or on paper, though the tradition of bare knuckle prize fighting has been going on for over 100 years since Kilrain met defeat at Sullivan's hands.

Tougher or not, the evidence clearly does show, that today's fighters have shorter careers than men of Sullivan's time. You cannot say it was because of a lack of challengers, as Sullivan and several others fought literally hundreds of men, and you cannot say it was because of the rules being so different [London Prize vs modern Queensbury], as a throw from a grappling move or other similar tactic over a prolonged period of time can shorten a career just as quick [think UFC for a moment and notice how short their careers are in comparison to a boxers].

The answer lies in the equipment, when it comes to toughness, plain and simple.

***

Alot of guys today have expressed the axiom 'We know what the old guys knew and more', when it comes to ring technique and conditioning, but it seems it is seldom applied in the Heavyweight division any more. Today we see heavyweights who are 240-280 pounds who should be coming in at 210-220. It is said but never applied. Possibly Evander Holyfield's success into his late 40's is due to his strong work ethic outside the ring, in comparison to his opponents as much as twnety years his junior.

In the lighter weight classes, training, however, seems to still be crucial to make weight. But with the countless weight classes in effect today, as well as the ever popular 'catchweight' fights of Pacquia in recent months, can it be said that guys today are more pampered to knuckle down than the old guys? It still screams blasphemy that guys today can possibly be more conditioned than men then. Even 50 years ago, when LaMotta was struggling to get down from 175 or more to 160 or less, more times than not he accomplished his goal to make weight, you knew he trained without excuse!

Today there's 18 weight classes. In LaMotta's time there were eight. In Sullivan's time there were but three: Heavyweight, Middleweight and Lightweight. Anyone over 160 pounds was considered a heavyweight then, and anyone under 130 pounds was considered a Lightweight. There was a twenty pound disparity between heavyweight and lightweight. Today there are three weight classes in between middleweight and heavyweight, and seven between heavyweight and lightweight.

In alot of instances, I am sure it would have benefited some fighters to have had more weight classes in their time, and certainly more matches would have been considered "fair" [even Sullivan would often give an opponent a chance to take on one of his sparring partners closer to their weight rather than take him on, as he was anywhere between 195-240 pounds, and most his opposition were in the 160's or 180's].

But at the same time, it also makes us wonder, if guys like Bob Fitzsimmons could fight around 167 and still knock out guys outweighing him by 100 pounds or more, are the old timers superior because they fought in such harsher conditions, or is guys like Fitzsimmons the exception, not the rule?

Some critics point out that guys like Fitzsimmons, Burns, O'Brien and others who went from middleweight to heavyweight mainly fought men closer to their own weights anyways, so there wasn't much of a difference to begin with---still, 160 and up is quite a range at heavyweight compared to the 200 and up it is today. Myself, I am on the opinion that the old timers were better in this regard, as they tested themselves, sometimes beyond their limits and capacities, and proved themselves more often than men of today.

What was an event of Jones defeating Ruiz [who at best was a top five heavyweight at the time] back in 2004, was standard in Sullivan, Fitzsimmons, and even Jack Dempsey's time. From Langford battling from welterweight to heavyweight, to Mickey Walker taking on Sharkey, Wright, and Schmeling, its a tradition that seems lost on todays fighters, who only want to prove themselves in their own 'weight class' and on their own 'terms', when the next weight class is only three pounds ahead. You honestly think three or five pounds would have mattered then?

To be the best, you had to fight the best, with what tools you learned and on what assets you had been born with. Simple as that.

***

The greatest knock the old-timers have against them is that their fights, for the most part, would be considered 'boring' today. Think Akinwande-Lewis or Ruiz-Rahman, and you get the picture. Alot of holds, clinching. But what many fail to still realize is that, again, these were men protecting their fists at all times, and were men who were picking their shots. Take a gander, some time, at the age old 'sparring session' of Tunney and Corbett and you will see what I am referring to here. Even Tunney's technique seems a notch below the aging Corbett's step by step instruction on avoiding shots and delivering blows from even the most oddest of angles. These men, were masters of their craft. They never wasted a shot if they could help it.

***

John L. Sullivan said on several occassions if Mitchell and Kilrain 'fought like men', rather than ran and threw themselves to the ground to end rounds [London Prize Ring rules] he would have knocked them out sooner than he did or would have won decisively. He was probably correct, for both Mitchell and Kilrain's styles mirrored eachother, dodging, grappling, running and taking a knee to avoid Sullivan's rushes. The logic, then, with Sullivan was, the longer a man lasted, the more certain it was Sullivan would eventually fall and lose steam. Unfortunately neither man was ever fully able to prove the point. The first Mitchell bout was stopped by police, the second didnt happen at all, and the third was declared a draw when the rain became too much for the two men who fought over two hours, though Mitchell hit canvas over sixty times. Kilrain, for all intents and purposes, was done by the thirty-sixth round, though it would go on for another 39 rounds, as his plan to dodge and take knees to end rounds from the first to the 30th.

The only two men to hold the distinction of going the distance with Sullivan was Alf Greenfield and Tug Wilson, and they accomplished it in the same manner. The difference was the Mitchell and Kilrain bouts were London Prize, the Greenfield and Wilson bouts were Marquis of Queensbury, scheduled for four rounds a piece. They threw themselves to the floor several times, taking counts, to avoid Sullivan's punches, lasting the distance, and collecting Sullivan's $500-1,000 challenges to anyone who could last four rounds with him.

It is obvious, though, that eventually Wilson and Greenfield would have lost, as their 'counts' would only give Sullivan more rest time, and they would be the ones exurting the most energy by picking their own selves off the floor, and had they 'fought like men', they more than likely wouldn't have stood a chance at all.

***

Again, we reach a cross road, again we question the fighters of Sullivan' time and their abilities. It seems that Sullivan took on mere novices, or men schooled in London Prize Ring rules, and little else. Who, if any, was out there to have really had a stand up fight with 'The Great John L'? The answer is inconclusive to be honest. Sullivan, like today's champions, fought alot of old men on his way to the top. Some, like Tom Allan, he did not meet in the ring, though he would take on Paddy Ryan three times, who was passed his best even in the first bout he had with John L.

The list of challengers for his title were built on as much bullshit as they were skilled in their own right: Herbert Slade (wrestler more so than boxer, and just plain big), Ryan, Mitchell, Kilrain, Greenfield, Wilson, were all of the London Prize Ring ilk, while McCaffery, Cardiff, Herald, and McDonald were Marquis of Queensbury through and through.

With the exception of Jem Mace (who offered to fight Sullivan, if, and only if Sullivan let him last the four rounds; which Sullivan refused), the only true viable challengers out there for his title was Frank Slavin, George Godfrey and Peter Jackson. He, of course, refused Jackson altogether, toyed with the idea of facing Godfrey but never did, and only called out Slavin because of Sullivan's hurt feelings over his failed tour of Australia (Slavin was the top man in Australia). In the end it was Corbett who managed to put up the $10,000 bond to secure a bout with Sullivan.

All in all, Sullivan's career opponents, at best, may be described or rated as being of the lower rung, in today's standards, in comparison to contenders today, but they were, in alot of senses, the top men of their time. It would be likened to a 'state' champion taking on a world's champion, in alot of ways, but then again, in Sullivan's time it was never done before, where a man truly 'challenged' America, from state to state, and country to country.

Still, some argue that maybe Sullivan's best challengers only came about in his later years because, again, boxing was becoming more 'science' than ever before.

While this may be no more evidence than it is a testament to Sullivan's punching power, we must fast forward some thirteen years after Sullivan's bout with Jim Corbett. Sullivan was now forty-six years old and 273 pounds, held an exhibition bout against Jim McCormick, a man considered to be the next Heavyweight king, in line for Jim Jeffries title. The first round of this scheduled four rounder, was actually fast paced, and both men (McCormick was in his 20's) were breathing heavily at the end. In the second, came the surprise. At 1:23 of the second, one of Sullivan's blows landed on McCormick's jaw, reeling the man backwards into a corner, where he lay unconscious for five minutes!

Sullivan, at once, broke into his old routine of challenging anyone in the audience $100 to last the four rounds with him, and offered out challenges to Jeffries and Fitzsimmons, and anyone else in the world. Later on Sullivan and McCormick would put on exhibitions throughout the United States. Many thought the bout was a fix, but McCormick swore til the day he passed on that, though Sullivan was grossly out of shape, he had been genuinely knocked out by a heavy hitter in John L.

Sullivan was scheduled to take on a Canadian boxer named John W. Phillips, in what was supposedly to be his 'come back' fight that same year, but at the last minute, Sullivan changed his mind and had McCormick go in his place.

Some can call this bout a fluke, that anyone can get knocked out on any given night by any given opponent, but, if Sullivan was a 'dinosaur' both in age and technique and condition the night he lost to Corbett, supposedly light years ahead of Sullivan as a boxer, how can it be that a man, more than a decade ahead of even Corbett's time, certainly more knowledgeable than both of them, in the prime of his life, in the running for the heavyweight title, lose to a man who now resembled something of a walrus?

***

After Sullivan lost to Gentleman Jim Corbett in New Orleans, future heavyweight title holder and boxing's first triple crown champion, Bob Fitzsimmons lamented the fact that the Marquis of Queensbury rules had won over the bare knuckle style, that his childhood idols made of that ilk were 'gone, never to return' and that all competitors in the future were to be 'as children' in comparison to the old timers.

This statement has echoed ever since, as boxing has went through many changes indeed. From an original set of rules that had no clarity in the scheduled amount of rounds in championship bouts, no neutral corner rule, and no specifications to the size of gloves, which more or less made boxing a marathon competition with bouts going more than 200 rounds, and frequent fouls.

Wouldn't be until the year Dempsey lost to Tunney in the 'long count' bout that a neutral corner rule was introduced. That was 1927. Wouldn't be until 1903 that two ounce gloves were replaced with five ounce, and later six ounce gloves. In 1991 six ounce gloves were dismissed and replaced with eight ounce and ten ounce gloves.

In 1982 fifteen round championship bouts were made a thing of the past when the WBC issued a statement that from then on out all bouts would be twelve rounds maximum. The IBF and WBA soon followed suit. Some have argued it was because of television scheduling that this happened, and not because of Boom Boom Mancini's brutal bout with Korean Duk Koo Kim, who died in a coma following his 14th round kayo loss to Mancini.

From Corbett to Joe Louis there were championship bouts scheduled for as much as 20 rounds. The reasoning behind the cut in length to these 'fight to the finish' bouts, for the most part, was that the longer fights went on, the slower and less active the fighters became, and the more bored the audiences.

Ironically it was the exact opposite of this thinking that made alot of fighters in the early 20th century, following the invention of motion pictures, carried their opponents purposely to generate more money from the reciepts from theatre sales. The longer the fight, the more bang they got for their buck.

In champion Jim Jeffries time it was quite common for fights to be scheduled for twenty rounds regardless of a title or not, and that most championship bouts were forty five rounds. When he fought Corbett their first bout went 23 rounds. When he fought Sharkey they fought 26 rounds in their rematch. When he would fight Choynski they would fight to a 20 round draw. And there were no neutral corner rule, and gloves were generally three to five ounces. Compare that to today's 12 round championship bouts with eight to ten ounce gloves, it raises the question of whether we have gotten pretty tame in recent years, or we have done made boxing a more faster, and action packed sport because of it.

Larry Holmes and other fighters from the fifteen round generation still say today that twelve rounds are not serious enough to be considered championship level bouts, that it takes a special kind of fighter to go fifteen rounds. But does three more rounds actually mean that much? Its the general opinion that it does, but there's also the flip side to the equation, that the longer a fight is scheduled, the more a fighter can coast, that he can actually afford to lose a round or two, to rest more inbetween, rather than have to exert himself, had the fight been scheduled for less.

A prime example for this was Jim Corbett's bout with Peter Jackson. They fought 61 rounds before it was declared a no-contest, and the fight for the most part was described as being light, slow paced, and neither man landing anything of consequence. Some argue to this day that the fight was more significant, that Jackson had the better of it, or that Corbett did, but the truth is that had the fight been scheduled for much less, it is more than likely that the two men would have pressed their wills on the other to gain an advantage.

John L. Sullivan, for the most part, loved fights being scheduled for less, and with the gloves, stating that his style suited the Marquis of Queensbury much better than London Prize Ring rules, that it forced an opponent to either do or die. Most of Sullivan's exhibitions and actual championship matches were no less than four and no more than seven rounds.

There is alot of sense in Sullivan's look on bout lengths, and in one case, at least, it can be justified. Take a look at the mediocre Eric Esch's career and outside of one bout, every one was scheduled for four rounds. It's quite simple to see that a man of Esch's bulk and low skill level would be more better off in a lower round format than ten rounds. This was proven, to an extent, when he took on the aged Larry Holmes in a ten rounder, and was grossly out pointed.

Many criticized Esch due to Holmes being into his 50's, but they couldn't seem to realize, considering Esch's style and size, that 12 minutes compared to 30 is quite a difference, and had it been scheduled for four rounds, the scores would have been more kinder to Esch. Also, had the fight been four rounds, its possible that Holmes would have felt the urge to quicken his pace, to get closer to Esch, and because of that, he would have been in the bralwers punching range.

So in essence, we can draw to a conclusion that depending on styles, certain round lengths, as well as the equipment, can ultimately change the results dramatically.

Thanks the "evolution" of boxing has been quite the interesting subject for me. The shame of it all, in my view, is the lack of record-keeping & a complete misunderstanding of the "milling", "rough and tumble" eras before it became boxing as we know it today. Far too many people write these ex-champions off, but really it's apples & oranges. I'd certainly give a guy like Mike McCoole all the advantage if he fought someone like Anthony Joshua in a bareknuckle match where rounds had no time limit, there was no time table, and it basically was "all-in" (no rules).

As for that transition period from LPR rules to MQ rules, alot of guys simply couldn't make the transition because they were more grappler than boxer, but there was quite a few exceptions. Jem Mace, probably the best of the lot, and was an old man when Sullivan came around.

It's funny, but LPR continued into the 1900s despite the assertion it ended with Sullivan-Kilrain in 1889. I think the last such official bout (overseen by sportsmen that is) was Bill Squires in Australia around 1910, give or take. Because of that pedigree, so to speak, it gave him an aura of invincibility because the old timers thought he was cut from the same cloth as their childhood heroes, but alas he was poleaxed trice against Tommy Burns.

Corbett is an interesting man, indeed. He certainly wasn't the father of boxing, let alone the first MQ rules champion heavyweight. But he was something special for his time, and even now. Mind you when Ali was still Cassius Clay, a group of old men who saw Corbett fight said in an interview that the Irishman was just as fast if not faster than Clay. Whether true or not is immaterial, but it goes to show the high esteem many had for him--- Gene Tunney himself said Corbett was the best boxer he ever saw, regardless of weight class.

That being said, Corbett was no Sullivan, and he never quite had the public in his corner. He defeated an icon who was every bit as mythical as Paul Bunyan, John Henry, etc. so of course he'd be disliked by a large portion of the boxing world. The real question is whether Sullivan at his best could have beaten Corbett, and I think regardless of rules he would have.

The main reason why is because Sullivan was a "do or die" type of man who never stopped coming forward, and hit you wherever he could from all angles. It's the same kind of style that would defeat Corbett twice back-to-back against Jim Jeffries. Eventually you will run out of gas, eventually you will get caught, because all you're doing is covering up and running. That's how Marciano went 49-0, because of this perpetual non-stop attack & as everyone knows Marciano trained more like an old-time bareknuckle fighter than he did a modern boxer. Sullivan at his peak had Marcianoesque conditioning and fast hands in his own right.