Bennie Briscoe and Ted Mann

[granberry]

I saw Ted Mann fight three times--all at the Philly Spectrum.

First against a tall skinny white fighter, Ritchie Bennett, where Mann had a one-sided win.

Then I saw him stop a comebacking Perry Abney.
He looked strong, looked like he may have a future.

Then I saw him lose to an old Bennie Briscoe.

Briscoe and Georgie Benton (Briscoe's trainer) were friends of mine.
I was eating at a motel/hotel in Philly the mob used before the fight.
From the lattice separating the bar from the restaurant area a strong boned, shaved head face kept popping up and staring at me while I sat in the restaurant part.

Then Benton came out from the bar and asked me to bring my food back to the bar area. Briscoe was there. This was an hour before the fight card at the Spectrum started.

I sat at a little table next to the bar and Briscoe sat across from me. He arranged my plates for me, watched me eat. When I picked up a piece of bread he slid the butter dish toward me on the table, saying "Here's your butter."

He was happy to be around someone he knew was a genuine friend and apparently he calmed his nerves by concentrating on me and my eating.

He had a little dish with very thin slices of orange in front of him, and he sucked on the oranges slices.
He also yawned deeply over and over again, which I read as the body expelling toxins before what it knows is a potential emergency.

I asked him what in the world he was doing there in a bar just before his fight, and he said, "People call me up all day before a fight, drive me nuts."

"Why don't you take the phone off the hook?" I asked.

"No, I couldn't do that," he said. “What if it was my mother calling?"

I thought silently to myself that it seemed funny, for someone with such a fearsome appearing, strong-cheek-boned, shaved head face to be talking about his mother calling.

There was tension there because Briscoe was an old fighter and his opponent Mann at that point was undefeated and had been stopping most of his opponents so far. Mann looked like a strong middleweight and apparently a good puncher.

Who knows, maybe Briscoe was taking on someone who could embarrass him badly at this decrepit stage of his own career.

When we were about to leave Benton said, "You'll go with us in the car."

"No,” I said, “I've got my own car here."

On the way to the arena I stopped at a grocery store and got four quart cartons of orange juice.

When the fight took place that evening, Benton had Briscoe do nothing but jab.

Mann couldn’t do a thing but get hit by Briscoe’s jab. Round after round passed that way.

There was no way to know it before this fight took place, but as this fight went on it became clear that Mann just didn’t have the speed to cope with a top level fighter like Briscoe, even in Briscoe’s old age as a fighter.

I remember a burley white cornerman consoling a discouraged Mann in his corner late in the fight. The cornerman smiled at whatever Mann was saying and put a big burly arm around him and hugged him as he sat there. Mann had learned he wasn’t going to make it in the big time.

Briscoe stuck to his plan the whole way. In the final round Mann came out aggressively and tried some right hands, but he had lost every round up to then.

After the fight I ran into Mann walking through the arena and offered him one of my orange juice cartons. “You don’t have a cut mouth?” I asked and he said he didn’t so I gave it to him. He drank the whole thing in a couple gulps.

Then I ran into Briscoe on my way out. I told him about how I always brought orange juice with me, but that I had given the last one to Mann. “He needed it more than you do,” I said to Briscoe.

“I know what you mean,” he said.

What that fight showed is that top level fighters do things at a completely different rate of speed than those who won’t make it near the top.

Mann had strength, stamina, and maybe punching power, but it was at a level which did not enable him to beat the very top level.

He was a nice, affable kid.

That night was the night he learned about where he stood in the overall realm of boxing.

[Flump]

Interesting stuff, thanks very much, seems like Philly was the place to be in the 70's, some hard as nails Middles and Light Heavys, who all seemed to fight each other.

[granberry]

Interesting stuff, thanks very much, seems like Philly was the place to be in the 70's, some hard as nails Middles and Light Heavys, who all seemed to fight each other.

And heavyweights were Joe Frazier, Jimmy Young, and several who were pretty good including Roy Williams, Joe Goulston, etc etc.

[Flump]

Interesting stuff, thanks very much, seems like Philly was the place to be in the 70's, some hard as nails Middles and Light Heavys, who all seemed to fight each other.

And heavyweights were Joe Frazier, Jimmy Young, and several who were pretty good including Roy Williams, Joe Goulston, etc etc.

What were your thoughts on Tiger Roy Williams, he certainly has developed a reputation over the years, did he have genuine championship potential or was he more a good gym fighter?

[granberry]

Interesting stuff, thanks very much, seems like Philly was the place to be in the 70's, some hard as nails Middles and Light Heavys, who all seemed to fight each other.

And heavyweights were Joe Frazier, Jimmy Young, and several who were pretty good including Roy Williams, Joe Goulston, etc etc.

What were your thoughts on Tiger Roy Williams, he certainly has developed a reputation over the years, did he have genuine championship potential or was he more a good gym fighter?

I saw him fight Larry Holmes on the card where Jimmy Young gave Ali the boxing lesson.

I thought he was overall better than Holmes. He was bigger (wider), stronger, hit harder, had a very heavy jab, a heavier right hand than Holmes. Holmes was given the decision, but not in my opinion.

After the Young-Ali fight was over I was walking out and stopped to talk to Williams who was sitting on a folding chair toward the back of the arena from which he had watched the Young-Ali fight. He was a huge guy, and I didn't see how the little folding chair was holding him.

A tiny white guy, must have been Williams' manager, was screaming at Williams that he should have done this, should have done that--against Holmes. Williams was just sitting there miserably, taking it.

I said, "I thought he [Roy Williams] won the fight." The manager gave me a dirty look and went away.

Williams said he thought Holmes was good.

I asked him what he thought of the Young-Ali fight which was just over.
Referring to Young, he said, "He did very well."

The situation with his manager was obviously a disaster.

You never yell at a fighter like that after a fight.

Then shortly after that I heard from Philly people that Williams had shot and killed someone in a fight over a girl—that it was the 2nd time he had done that, and that he was going to be put away for years.

That seemed strange to me since, Williams was so big all he would have to do is give someone a push.

I hope that wasn’t true. but I never found out.

Back in Philly. Jimmy Young sparred with Roy Williams to get started on training for his Ali fight. Young thought Williams was top level. He said, “I didn’t think I was going to have any head left" [after sparring with Williams].

Young thought Williams was a good fighter and a good puncher.

[Flump]

And heavyweights were Joe Frazier, Jimmy Young, and several who were pretty good including Roy Williams, Joe Goulston, etc etc.

What were your thoughts on Tiger Roy Williams, he certainly has developed a reputation over the years, did he have genuine championship potential or was he more a good gym fighter?

I saw him fight Larry Holmes on the card where Jimmy Young gave Ali the boxing lesson.

I thought he was overall better than Holmes. He was bigger (wider), stronger, hit harder, had a very heavy jab, a heavier right hand than Holmes. Holmes was given the decision, but not in my opinion.

After the Young-Ali fight was over I was walking out and stopped to talk to Williams who was sitting on a folding chair toward the back of the arena from which he had watched the Young-Ali fight. He was a huge guy, and I didn't see how the little folding chair was holding him.

A tiny white guy, must have been Williams' manager, was screaming at Williams that he should have done this, should have done that--against Holmes. Williams was just sitting there miserably, taking it.

I said, "I thought he [Roy Williams] won the fight." The manager gave me a dirty look and went away.

Williams said he thought Holmes was good.

I asked him what he thought of the Young-Ali fight which was just over.
Referring to Young, he said, "He did very well."

The situation with his manager was obviously a disaster.

You never yell at a fighter like that after a fight.

Then shortly after that I heard from Philly people that Williams had shot and killed someone in a fight over a girl—that it was the 2nd time he had done that, and that he was going to be put away for years.

That seemed strange to me since, Williams was so big all he would have to do is give someone a push.

I hope that wasn’t true. but I never found out.

Back in Philly. Jimmy Young sparred with Roy Williams to get started on training for his Ali fight. Young thought Williams was top level. He said, “I didn’t think I was going to have any head left" [after sparring with Williams].

Young thought Williams was a good fighter and a good puncher.

Again, fascinating stuff, many thanks.

[dr_devious]

Good stuff Granberry

[granberry]

Anybody know what Mann is doing now?

[bennie]

Gawd knows, but his loss to something like a three-fight Amparo was embarrassing.

[McCannW14]

I saw Ted Mann fight three times--all at the Philly Spectrum.

First against a tall skinny white fighter, Ritchie Bennett, where Mann had a one-sided win.

Then I saw him stop a comebacking Perry Abney.
He looked strong, looked like he may have a future.

Then I saw him lose to an old Bennie Briscoe.

Briscoe and Georgie Benton (Briscoe's trainer) were friends of mine.
I was eating at a motel/hotel in Philly the mob used before the fight.
From the lattice separating the bar from the restaurant area a strong boned, shaved head face kept popping up and staring at me while I sat in the restaurant part.

Then Benton came out from the bar and asked me to bring my food back to the bar area. Briscoe was there. This was an hour before the fight card at the Spectrum started.

I sat at a little table next to the bar and Briscoe sat across from me. He arranged my plates for me, watched me eat. When I picked up a piece of bread he slid the butter dish toward me on the table, saying "Here's your butter."

He was happy to be around someone he knew was a genuine friend and apparently he calmed his nerves by concentrating on me and my eating.

He had a little dish with very thin slices of orange in front of him, and he sucked on the oranges slices.
He also yawned deeply over and over again, which I read as the body expelling toxins before what it knows is a potential emergency.

I asked him what in the world he was doing there in a bar just before his fight, and he said, "People call me up all day before a fight, drive me nuts."

"Why don't you take the phone off the hook?" I asked.

"No, I couldn't do that," he said. “What if it was my mother calling?"

I thought silently to myself that it seemed funny, for someone with such a fearsome appearing, strong-cheek-boned, shaved head face to be talking about his mother calling.

There was tension there because Briscoe was an old fighter and his opponent Mann at that point was undefeated and had been stopping most of his opponents so far. Mann looked like a strong middleweight and apparently a good puncher.

Who knows, maybe Briscoe was taking on someone who could embarrass him badly at this decrepit stage of his own career.

When we were about to leave Benton said, "You'll go with us in the car."

"No,” I said, “I've got my own car here."

On the way to the arena I stopped at a grocery store and got four quart cartons of orange juice.

When the fight took place that evening, Benton had Briscoe do nothing but jab.

Mann couldn’t do a thing but get hit by Briscoe’s jab. Round after round passed that way.

There was no way to know it before this fight took place, but as this fight went on it became clear that Mann just didn’t have the speed to cope with a top level fighter like Briscoe, even in Briscoe’s old age as a fighter.

I remember a burley white cornerman consoling a discouraged Mann in his corner late in the fight. The cornerman smiled at whatever Mann was saying and put a big burly arm around him and hugged him as he sat there. Mann had learned he wasn’t going to make it in the big time.

Briscoe stuck to his plan the whole way. In the final round Mann came out aggressively and tried some right hands, but he had lost every round up to then.

After the fight I ran into Mann walking through the arena and offered him one of my orange juice cartons. “You don’t have a cut mouth?” I asked and he said he didn’t so I gave it to him. He drank the whole thing in a couple gulps.

Then I ran into Briscoe on my way out. I told him about how I always brought orange juice with me, but that I had given the last one to Mann. “He needed it more than you do,” I said to Briscoe.

“I know what you mean,” he said.

What that fight showed is that top level fighters do things at a completely different rate of speed than those who won’t make it near the top.

Mann had strength, stamina, and maybe punching power, but it was at a level which did not enable him to beat the very top level.

He was a nice, affable kid.

That night was the night he learned about where he stood in the overall realm of boxing.

Thanks for that.

This is when boxing was real boxing, not the overhyped rubbish we put up with today , where most of the fighters duck quality opponents and have not a tenth of the talent of Briscoe

[granberry]

I saw Ted Mann fight three times--all at the Philly Spectrum.

First against a tall skinny white fighter, Ritchie Bennett, where Mann had a one-sided win.

Then I saw him stop a comebacking Perry Abney.
He looked strong, looked like he may have a future.

Then I saw him lose to an old Bennie Briscoe.

Briscoe and Georgie Benton (Briscoe's trainer) were friends of mine.
I was eating at a motel/hotel in Philly the mob used before the fight.
From the lattice separating the bar from the restaurant area a strong boned, shaved head face kept popping up and staring at me while I sat in the restaurant part.

Then Benton came out from the bar and asked me to bring my food back to the bar area. Briscoe was there. This was an hour before the fight card at the Spectrum started.

I sat at a little table next to the bar and Briscoe sat across from me. He arranged my plates for me, watched me eat. When I picked up a piece of bread he slid the butter dish toward me on the table, saying "Here's your butter."

He was happy to be around someone he knew was a genuine friend and apparently he calmed his nerves by concentrating on me and my eating.

He had a little dish with very thin slices of orange in front of him, and he sucked on the oranges slices.
He also yawned deeply over and over again, which I read as the body expelling toxins before what it knows is a potential emergency.

I asked him what in the world he was doing there in a bar just before his fight, and he said, "People call me up all day before a fight, drive me nuts."

"Why don't you take the phone off the hook?" I asked.

"No, I couldn't do that," he said. “What if it was my mother calling?"

I thought silently to myself that it seemed funny, for someone with such a fearsome appearing, strong-cheek-boned, shaved head face to be talking about his mother calling.

There was tension there because Briscoe was an old fighter and his opponent Mann at that point was undefeated and had been stopping most of his opponents so far. Mann looked like a strong middleweight and apparently a good puncher.

Who knows, maybe Briscoe was taking on someone who could embarrass him badly at this decrepit stage of his own career.

When we were about to leave Benton said, "You'll go with us in the car."

"No,” I said, “I've got my own car here."

On the way to the arena I stopped at a grocery store and got four quart cartons of orange juice.

When the fight took place that evening, Benton had Briscoe do nothing but jab.

Mann couldn’t do a thing but get hit by Briscoe’s jab. Round after round passed that way.

There was no way to know it before this fight took place, but as this fight went on it became clear that Mann just didn’t have the speed to cope with a top level fighter like Briscoe, even in Briscoe’s old age as a fighter.

I remember a burley white cornerman consoling a discouraged Mann in his corner late in the fight. The cornerman smiled at whatever Mann was saying and put a big burly arm around him and hugged him as he sat there. Mann had learned he wasn’t going to make it in the big time.

Briscoe stuck to his plan the whole way. In the final round Mann came out aggressively and tried some right hands, but he had lost every round up to then.

After the fight I ran into Mann walking through the arena and offered him one of my orange juice cartons. “You don’t have a cut mouth?” I asked and he said he didn’t so I gave it to him. He drank the whole thing in a couple gulps.

Then I ran into Briscoe on my way out. I told him about how I always brought orange juice with me, but that I had given the last one to Mann. “He needed it more than you do,” I said to Briscoe.

“I know what you mean,” he said.

What that fight showed is that top level fighters do things at a completely different rate of speed than those who won’t make it near the top.

Mann had strength, stamina, and maybe punching power, but it was at a level which did not enable him to beat the very top level.

He was a nice, affable kid.

That night was the night he learned about where he stood in the overall realm of boxing.

Thanks for that.

This is when boxing was real boxing, not the overhyped rubbish we put up with today , where most of the fighters duck quality opponents and have not a tenth of the talent of Briscoe

Thanks for the comment, McCann.

I used to feel it was worth the ride to Philadelphia just to see Briscoe throw a couple of his devastating body shots in a workout. They were hard enough to knock down a house.