bits and pieces scrapbook
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
NEW YORK - JULY 2,1925
Harry Greb (R) shakes hands with Mickey Walker after signing the deal to fight for Greb's Middleweight Title
(enhanced photo courtesy of CBS contributor JTheron)*
*Classic Boxing Society -
http://classicboxingsociety.blogspot.ie/
https://www.facebook.com/classicboxingsociety
Harry Greb (R) shakes hands with Mickey Walker after signing the deal to fight for Greb's Middleweight Title
(enhanced photo courtesy of CBS contributor JTheron)*
*Classic Boxing Society -
http://classicboxingsociety.blogspot.ie/
https://www.facebook.com/classicboxingsociety
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Shelby
The fight was nothing to write home about. Dempsey bored in, bobbing and weaving. He tried to land squarely on Gibbons face but he was rusty and his timing was off.
After the fight Jack said, “Nailing him was like trying to thread a needle in a high wind.” Gibbons stated in his biography “Punches That I Have Taken” that “People couldn’t seem to understand how I could take so much from Dempsey…All I did was slip this way and that…Brother Mike, he taught it to me.”
The challenger also clinched and held a lot. Tommy tried to land punches to Jack’s body but Dempsey was too fast for him. Gibbons opened a cut under the champ’s right eye in the 2nd round that bothered Jack throughout the fight. Dempsey seemed to have Gibbons in trouble in round 7 but couldn’t put him away. At the end of the 15th and final round referee Jim Dougherty raised Dempsey’s hand in victory. Gibbons did not protest.
He stated years later in his biography, “I could have licked him in Shelby if I had been thirty, but I was thirty-two… I never got so tired of a man in my life.” He was tired but happy. He had gone 15 rounds with Jack Dempsey and would live to brag about it.
Years later Tommy told a reporter for CBS Radio that “Dempsey could beat anybody he could hit. The only reason he couldn’t do anything with fellows like Tunney or Greb or myself was he couldn’t hit us.”
(by Norman Marcus)
(image courtesy of rockyssplitnose)
The fight was nothing to write home about. Dempsey bored in, bobbing and weaving. He tried to land squarely on Gibbons face but he was rusty and his timing was off.
After the fight Jack said, “Nailing him was like trying to thread a needle in a high wind.” Gibbons stated in his biography “Punches That I Have Taken” that “People couldn’t seem to understand how I could take so much from Dempsey…All I did was slip this way and that…Brother Mike, he taught it to me.”
The challenger also clinched and held a lot. Tommy tried to land punches to Jack’s body but Dempsey was too fast for him. Gibbons opened a cut under the champ’s right eye in the 2nd round that bothered Jack throughout the fight. Dempsey seemed to have Gibbons in trouble in round 7 but couldn’t put him away. At the end of the 15th and final round referee Jim Dougherty raised Dempsey’s hand in victory. Gibbons did not protest.
He stated years later in his biography, “I could have licked him in Shelby if I had been thirty, but I was thirty-two… I never got so tired of a man in my life.” He was tired but happy. He had gone 15 rounds with Jack Dempsey and would live to brag about it.
Years later Tommy told a reporter for CBS Radio that “Dempsey could beat anybody he could hit. The only reason he couldn’t do anything with fellows like Tunney or Greb or myself was he couldn’t hit us.”
(by Norman Marcus)
(image courtesy of rockyssplitnose)
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
May 14, 1953
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Before Joe Louis KO'd Max Schmeling in one round in their rematch...the unheralded Gypsy Daniels from Wales did the very same thing earlier in Schmeling's career..and in Schmeling's back yard !!
...............................
His swarthy complexion and dark eyes and hair would open up some unlikely avenues to success. The story that grew up is that Daniels walked into the New York office of legendary boxing manager Jimmy Johnston, who said: “Say, son, are you a gypsy”.
The Welshman denied this, but a promotional idea was born, and Johnston is said to have taken him across the street to Woolworths to buy a brightly coloured bandana and curtain rings for ear-rings.
Photographers and the press were then invited to meet Billy ‘Gipsy’ Daniels, King of the Gipsies, who had been imported from Wales to become the next heavyweight champion of the world!
Despite the colourful story, there is evidence that Daniels had used the Gipsy nickname before he crossed the Atlantic, but the angle was certainly pushed during his time in the States.
The hyperbole was backed up by the Welshman’s performances in the ring as he impressed in seven US bouts, including two at Madison Square Garden.
Daniels decided to come home in 1923, though, where he would compete at middleweight, light-heavyweight and heavyweight in the highest class across the UK and Europe.
He would find great popularity and success, including a series of epic fights against Frank Moody and a 20-round victory over Tom Berry that won him the British cruiserweight title.
The most famous name on the Welshman’s record, though, was surely Max Schmeling.
Daniels lost a December 1927 fight against the German in Berlin, but in a rematch two months later claimed the greatest – and most surprising – win of his career.
Schmeling rushed out in the first round of their 25 February, 1928, bout in Frankfurt… and walked straight into a stunning KO punch from the unfancied ‘Gipsy’!
Daniels failed to capitalise on the remarkable win, though, as – for unexplained reasons – his career went quiet.
He was fighting less, the losses were mounting, and – perhaps over-playing the Schmeling result – he seems to have turned into more of a knock-out expert than a boxer.
There was one more huge domestic clash to come, though, as – on 4 August, 1930 – he met old rival Moody for the third time.
Both men were past their best, but 15,000 turned out to see them at the Welsh White City on Sloper Road, Cardiff.
The fans were rewarded with a superb fight, Pontypridd great Moody emerging as the victor.
Daniels would keep fighting, including in the boxing booths where he helped to mentor a young Freddie Mills.
(welshboxers.com)
...............................
His swarthy complexion and dark eyes and hair would open up some unlikely avenues to success. The story that grew up is that Daniels walked into the New York office of legendary boxing manager Jimmy Johnston, who said: “Say, son, are you a gypsy”.
The Welshman denied this, but a promotional idea was born, and Johnston is said to have taken him across the street to Woolworths to buy a brightly coloured bandana and curtain rings for ear-rings.
Photographers and the press were then invited to meet Billy ‘Gipsy’ Daniels, King of the Gipsies, who had been imported from Wales to become the next heavyweight champion of the world!
Despite the colourful story, there is evidence that Daniels had used the Gipsy nickname before he crossed the Atlantic, but the angle was certainly pushed during his time in the States.
The hyperbole was backed up by the Welshman’s performances in the ring as he impressed in seven US bouts, including two at Madison Square Garden.
Daniels decided to come home in 1923, though, where he would compete at middleweight, light-heavyweight and heavyweight in the highest class across the UK and Europe.
He would find great popularity and success, including a series of epic fights against Frank Moody and a 20-round victory over Tom Berry that won him the British cruiserweight title.
The most famous name on the Welshman’s record, though, was surely Max Schmeling.
Daniels lost a December 1927 fight against the German in Berlin, but in a rematch two months later claimed the greatest – and most surprising – win of his career.
Schmeling rushed out in the first round of their 25 February, 1928, bout in Frankfurt… and walked straight into a stunning KO punch from the unfancied ‘Gipsy’!
Daniels failed to capitalise on the remarkable win, though, as – for unexplained reasons – his career went quiet.
He was fighting less, the losses were mounting, and – perhaps over-playing the Schmeling result – he seems to have turned into more of a knock-out expert than a boxer.
There was one more huge domestic clash to come, though, as – on 4 August, 1930 – he met old rival Moody for the third time.
Both men were past their best, but 15,000 turned out to see them at the Welsh White City on Sloper Road, Cardiff.
The fans were rewarded with a superb fight, Pontypridd great Moody emerging as the victor.
Daniels would keep fighting, including in the boxing booths where he helped to mentor a young Freddie Mills.
(welshboxers.com)
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Elmer (Violent) Ray was the #1 ranked heavyweight contender in early 1947. He lost that ranking and a potential title fight with Joe Louis, when he was defeated by Jersey Joe Walcott on March 1, 1947. Ray would subsequently go on to defeat future champion Ezzard Charles on a split decision, before Charles knocked him out in the 9th round on May 7, 1948, ending his title hopes for good.
...............
In the years before he became a famous professional boxer, he rose to prominence in the southern battle royale circuit- battle royales being a fight game from that time period in which 10 competitors would be put into the ring with each other and have an "all-against-all" throw-down until only one was left. Ray won 61 battle royales and supposedly once knocked out nine opponents with one hand behind his back during a match in New Orleans, earning himself the title "King of the Battle Royale."
According to the Traverse City Eagle, March 11, 1946 -
"Ray had a system that let him win 61 of those free-for-alls. In these bouts, the usual order is for the little guys to gang up on the biggest man and down the batting order in that manner. Elmer simply dropped to the floor when the bell sounded, crawled to a corner, placed his back against the ropes and took the whole gang as it came at him."
He also had a reputation as an alligator wrestler. When he held camp near his home town in Florida, he would scare his manager to death by going out into the mud and wrestling 'gators, often to entertain tourists. In fact, he was so comfortable around them that he was known to casually play with them and let them eat out of his hand.
"Elmer (Violent) Ray has the extraordinary distinction of being the only man Joe Louis wouldn't even meet in an exhibition*. Louis boxed Dan Merritt of Cleveland instead, and stood watching as Ray, a crowding weaver and bobber with the speed of a swift middleweight, ironed out Claudio Villar, a Spaniard, in 29 seconds flat.”
"Arturo Godoy and Tami Mauriello rejected guarantees to square off with Ray at Madison square Garden, Lee Oma the Violent One's share of the swag in addition to his own. Joe Baksi and Lou Nova refused. Melio Bettina will have nothing to do with the Hastings Hammerer. Jimmy Bivins turned down the chance to march front and center with him in Los Angeles, where the terror recorded 19 knockouts in a row. The current Joe Walcott will have no truck with him in Baltimore... Currently he is drawing and at Miami's Negro ball yard, Dorsey Park, while putting the slug on such as Dan Merritt and Al Patterson, the latter a slatty character out of Pittsburgh. "It's better than wrestlingalligators and fighting nine guys at once," beams Violent Ray."
-The Coshocton Tribune, March 8, 1946
*Louis and Ray would meet in exhibitions later as detailed below.
"None of the near-name heavies wants any part of Ray, who in a New Orleans battle royal knocked out nine opponents with one hand tied behind his back."
"...in doing so he made of Elmer Ray a modern Sam Langford. You remember the Boston Tar Baby. He was a guy heavyweight champion Jack Johnson dodged and dodged during the six years he held the title some three decades ago. Langford tried desperately to get a bout with the champ, but Johnson never would have a part of him. Louis is that way with Ray. It’s silly to say that Louis, the man who has made so many valiant defenses of the crown, is afraid of Elmer. But it is a fact that he won’t fight the burley puncher from Hastings, Florida."
-Middlesboro Daily News, July 26, 1947
(by MarcianoFrazier)
................
July 25, 1947 -
"The gallery gods went into ranting hysterics last night when the burly negro who once wrestled alligators for a living smashed the myth which was Ezzard Charles. The boxing bigwigs, who had been grooming Charles for a fight with Joe Louis, laughed. Once more they had given Joe Louis, the heavyweight champion, an excuse to dodge the violent one. For from 10 rows back it looked like Charles all the way. He danced and jabbed and landed a lot on Ray's bobbing pate and Elmer's busy elbows. But inside 10 rows you could see the devastation wrought by Ray's jarring hooks, blasts which raised the sheaf of Ezzard's cheek. “No holding,” was the continual admonition of referee Eddie Joseph. But Ezzard, of the winged retreating feet, had to hold for his life, and in doing so he made of Elmer Ray a modern Sam Langford."
(Middlesboro Daily News)
.....................
May 7, 1948 -
"Hammer-fisted Ezzard Charles racked up a knockout over Elmer Ray today and called for a shot at light heavyweight champion Gus Lesnevich. The fast moving Charles hanged the aging Ray right out of heavyweight boxing with a left hook at 2:43 of the 9th stanza."
(United Press)
....................
March 29, 1949 -
Elmer Ray apparently returned to Palatka Florida and annouced his retirement from the ring there to the newspapers
March.28. 1949,and also addmited that he had suffered a slight brain concussion in being KO'D in the third exhibition match with Joe Louis .
He announced that he was quitting the ring "While I still had my health" and was going to go back to Minneapolis,Mn, were he has a home(he had moved to Minneapolis in 1945) and that was going to open "A Package Shop" there.
(Hartford Courier)
...............
In the years before he became a famous professional boxer, he rose to prominence in the southern battle royale circuit- battle royales being a fight game from that time period in which 10 competitors would be put into the ring with each other and have an "all-against-all" throw-down until only one was left. Ray won 61 battle royales and supposedly once knocked out nine opponents with one hand behind his back during a match in New Orleans, earning himself the title "King of the Battle Royale."
According to the Traverse City Eagle, March 11, 1946 -
"Ray had a system that let him win 61 of those free-for-alls. In these bouts, the usual order is for the little guys to gang up on the biggest man and down the batting order in that manner. Elmer simply dropped to the floor when the bell sounded, crawled to a corner, placed his back against the ropes and took the whole gang as it came at him."
He also had a reputation as an alligator wrestler. When he held camp near his home town in Florida, he would scare his manager to death by going out into the mud and wrestling 'gators, often to entertain tourists. In fact, he was so comfortable around them that he was known to casually play with them and let them eat out of his hand.
"Elmer (Violent) Ray has the extraordinary distinction of being the only man Joe Louis wouldn't even meet in an exhibition*. Louis boxed Dan Merritt of Cleveland instead, and stood watching as Ray, a crowding weaver and bobber with the speed of a swift middleweight, ironed out Claudio Villar, a Spaniard, in 29 seconds flat.”
"Arturo Godoy and Tami Mauriello rejected guarantees to square off with Ray at Madison square Garden, Lee Oma the Violent One's share of the swag in addition to his own. Joe Baksi and Lou Nova refused. Melio Bettina will have nothing to do with the Hastings Hammerer. Jimmy Bivins turned down the chance to march front and center with him in Los Angeles, where the terror recorded 19 knockouts in a row. The current Joe Walcott will have no truck with him in Baltimore... Currently he is drawing and at Miami's Negro ball yard, Dorsey Park, while putting the slug on such as Dan Merritt and Al Patterson, the latter a slatty character out of Pittsburgh. "It's better than wrestlingalligators and fighting nine guys at once," beams Violent Ray."
-The Coshocton Tribune, March 8, 1946
*Louis and Ray would meet in exhibitions later as detailed below.
"None of the near-name heavies wants any part of Ray, who in a New Orleans battle royal knocked out nine opponents with one hand tied behind his back."
"...in doing so he made of Elmer Ray a modern Sam Langford. You remember the Boston Tar Baby. He was a guy heavyweight champion Jack Johnson dodged and dodged during the six years he held the title some three decades ago. Langford tried desperately to get a bout with the champ, but Johnson never would have a part of him. Louis is that way with Ray. It’s silly to say that Louis, the man who has made so many valiant defenses of the crown, is afraid of Elmer. But it is a fact that he won’t fight the burley puncher from Hastings, Florida."
-Middlesboro Daily News, July 26, 1947
(by MarcianoFrazier)
................
July 25, 1947 -
"The gallery gods went into ranting hysterics last night when the burly negro who once wrestled alligators for a living smashed the myth which was Ezzard Charles. The boxing bigwigs, who had been grooming Charles for a fight with Joe Louis, laughed. Once more they had given Joe Louis, the heavyweight champion, an excuse to dodge the violent one. For from 10 rows back it looked like Charles all the way. He danced and jabbed and landed a lot on Ray's bobbing pate and Elmer's busy elbows. But inside 10 rows you could see the devastation wrought by Ray's jarring hooks, blasts which raised the sheaf of Ezzard's cheek. “No holding,” was the continual admonition of referee Eddie Joseph. But Ezzard, of the winged retreating feet, had to hold for his life, and in doing so he made of Elmer Ray a modern Sam Langford."
(Middlesboro Daily News)
.....................
May 7, 1948 -
"Hammer-fisted Ezzard Charles racked up a knockout over Elmer Ray today and called for a shot at light heavyweight champion Gus Lesnevich. The fast moving Charles hanged the aging Ray right out of heavyweight boxing with a left hook at 2:43 of the 9th stanza."
(United Press)
....................
March 29, 1949 -
Elmer Ray apparently returned to Palatka Florida and annouced his retirement from the ring there to the newspapers
March.28. 1949,and also addmited that he had suffered a slight brain concussion in being KO'D in the third exhibition match with Joe Louis .
He announced that he was quitting the ring "While I still had my health" and was going to go back to Minneapolis,Mn, were he has a home(he had moved to Minneapolis in 1945) and that was going to open "A Package Shop" there.
(Hartford Courier)
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
March 1959
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Ed Beattie, who had heart surgury when five fights into his professional career...and then went on to continue that career with fourteen straight wins including winning the Canadian Lightweight Title in 1960.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Elmer looks and sounds a real handful; I think I remember reading that Charlie Burley knocked out Elmer in sparring when Elmer tried to take liberties with Burley.doug.ie wrote:Elmer (Violent) Ray was the #1 ranked heavyweight contender in early 1947. He lost that ranking and a potential title fight with Joe Louis, when he was defeated by Jersey Joe Walcott on March 1, 1947. Ray would subsequently go on to defeat future champion Ezzard Charles on a split decision, before Charles knocked him out in the 9th round on May 7, 1948, ending his title hopes for good.
...............
In the years before he became a famous professional boxer, he rose to prominence in the southern battle royale circuit- battle royales being a fight game from that time period in which 10 competitors would be put into the ring with each other and have an "all-against-all" throw-down until only one was left. Ray won 61 battle royales and supposedly once knocked out nine opponents with one hand behind his back during a match in New Orleans, earning himself the title "King of the Battle Royale."
According to the Traverse City Eagle, March 11, 1946 -
"Ray had a system that let him win 61 of those free-for-alls. In these bouts, the usual order is for the little guys to gang up on the biggest man and down the batting order in that manner. Elmer simply dropped to the floor when the bell sounded, crawled to a corner, placed his back against the ropes and took the whole gang as it came at him."
He also had a reputation as an alligator wrestler. When he held camp near his home town in Florida, he would scare his manager to death by going out into the mud and wrestling 'gators, often to entertain tourists. In fact, he was so comfortable around them that he was known to casually play with them and let them eat out of his hand.
"Elmer (Violent) Ray has the extraordinary distinction of being the only man Joe Louis wouldn't even meet in an exhibition*. Louis boxed Dan Merritt of Cleveland instead, and stood watching as Ray, a crowding weaver and bobber with the speed of a swift middleweight, ironed out Claudio Villar, a Spaniard, in 29 seconds flat.”
"Arturo Godoy and Tami Mauriello rejected guarantees to square off with Ray at Madison square Garden, Lee Oma the Violent One's share of the swag in addition to his own. Joe Baksi and Lou Nova refused. Melio Bettina will have nothing to do with the Hastings Hammerer. Jimmy Bivins turned down the chance to march front and center with him in Los Angeles, where the terror recorded 19 knockouts in a row. The current Joe Walcott will have no truck with him in Baltimore... Currently he is drawing and at Miami's Negro ball yard, Dorsey Park, while putting the slug on such as Dan Merritt and Al Patterson, the latter a slatty character out of Pittsburgh. "It's better than wrestlingalligators and fighting nine guys at once," beams Violent Ray."
-The Coshocton Tribune, March 8, 1946
*Louis and Ray would meet in exhibitions later as detailed below.
"None of the near-name heavies wants any part of Ray, who in a New Orleans battle royal knocked out nine opponents with one hand tied behind his back."
"...in doing so he made of Elmer Ray a modern Sam Langford. You remember the Boston Tar Baby. He was a guy heavyweight champion Jack Johnson dodged and dodged during the six years he held the title some three decades ago. Langford tried desperately to get a bout with the champ, but Johnson never would have a part of him. Louis is that way with Ray. It’s silly to say that Louis, the man who has made so many valiant defenses of the crown, is afraid of Elmer. But it is a fact that he won’t fight the burley puncher from Hastings, Florida."
-Middlesboro Daily News, July 26, 1947
(by MarcianoFrazier)
................
July 25, 1947 -
"The gallery gods went into ranting hysterics last night when the burly negro who once wrestled alligators for a living smashed the myth which was Ezzard Charles. The boxing bigwigs, who had been grooming Charles for a fight with Joe Louis, laughed. Once more they had given Joe Louis, the heavyweight champion, an excuse to dodge the violent one. For from 10 rows back it looked like Charles all the way. He danced and jabbed and landed a lot on Ray's bobbing pate and Elmer's busy elbows. But inside 10 rows you could see the devastation wrought by Ray's jarring hooks, blasts which raised the sheaf of Ezzard's cheek. “No holding,” was the continual admonition of referee Eddie Joseph. But Ezzard, of the winged retreating feet, had to hold for his life, and in doing so he made of Elmer Ray a modern Sam Langford."
(Middlesboro Daily News)
.....................
May 7, 1948 -
"Hammer-fisted Ezzard Charles racked up a knockout over Elmer Ray today and called for a shot at light heavyweight champion Gus Lesnevich. The fast moving Charles hanged the aging Ray right out of heavyweight boxing with a left hook at 2:43 of the 9th stanza."
(United Press)
....................
March 29, 1949 -
Elmer Ray apparently returned to Palatka Florida and annouced his retirement from the ring there to the newspapers
March.28. 1949,and also addmited that he had suffered a slight brain concussion in being KO'D in the third exhibition match with Joe Louis .
He announced that he was quitting the ring "While I still had my health" and was going to go back to Minneapolis,Mn, were he has a home(he had moved to Minneapolis in 1945) and that was going to open "A Package Shop" there.
(Hartford Courier)
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Nov 1942
"Chalky Wright. He was as hard a puncher as you could find. He knocked out welterweights. I outpointed him two times at 15 rounds. He never hit me solid. I was lucky to stay out of trouble. If he put two punches together, I’d have been in trouble.” - Willie Pep
enhanced photo courtesy of CBS contributor JTheron.
"Chalky Wright. He was as hard a puncher as you could find. He knocked out welterweights. I outpointed him two times at 15 rounds. He never hit me solid. I was lucky to stay out of trouble. If he put two punches together, I’d have been in trouble.” - Willie Pep
enhanced photo courtesy of CBS contributor JTheron.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Fantasy Radio Heavyweight Boxing Tournament
This fantasy tournament in full is available for all followers of this page to listen to here via the Classic Boxing Society YouTube channel...
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL ... a5BFJ01AgE
(very highly recommended, regardless of views on fantasy boxing matchups....the production of this is outstanding)
..................
In 1967, the radio producer Murray Woroner had the idea of determining the all-time great heavyweight champion of the world in a series of fantasy fights between boxing champions of different eras. Woroner sent out a survey to 250 boxing experts and writers to help determine which boxers would be used in the imaginary fights. Woroner picked the first round of fantasy matches to be:
Jack Dempsey vs. Gentleman Jim Corbett
John L. Sullivan vs. Jim Braddock
Bob Fitzsimmons vs. Jack Sharkey
Jim Jeffries vs. Jersey Joe Walcott
Joe Louis vs. Jess Willard
Max Baer vs. Jack Johnson
Rocky Marciano vs. Gene Tunney
Muhammad Ali vs. Max Schmeling
.
This fantasy tournament in full is available for all followers of this page to listen to here via the Classic Boxing Society YouTube channel...
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL ... a5BFJ01AgE
(very highly recommended, regardless of views on fantasy boxing matchups....the production of this is outstanding)
..................
In 1967, the radio producer Murray Woroner had the idea of determining the all-time great heavyweight champion of the world in a series of fantasy fights between boxing champions of different eras. Woroner sent out a survey to 250 boxing experts and writers to help determine which boxers would be used in the imaginary fights. Woroner picked the first round of fantasy matches to be:
Jack Dempsey vs. Gentleman Jim Corbett
John L. Sullivan vs. Jim Braddock
Bob Fitzsimmons vs. Jack Sharkey
Jim Jeffries vs. Jersey Joe Walcott
Joe Louis vs. Jess Willard
Max Baer vs. Jack Johnson
Rocky Marciano vs. Gene Tunney
Muhammad Ali vs. Max Schmeling
.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Barbados Demon
“My oh my, wasn’t Joe Walcott a tough boy! He was the hardest hitter I ever met. Never before or never since then have I been hit as hard and as often as that night, and I never landed more blows on a fighter in fifteen rounds than I hurled into Joe Walcott that night. The house was in an uproar before the first round ended and from then until the end of the fight the customers never sat down.” - Sam Langford
.
(enhanced photo courtesy of CBS contributor JTheron)
*The original (Barbados Demon) Joe Walcott.
“My oh my, wasn’t Joe Walcott a tough boy! He was the hardest hitter I ever met. Never before or never since then have I been hit as hard and as often as that night, and I never landed more blows on a fighter in fifteen rounds than I hurled into Joe Walcott that night. The house was in an uproar before the first round ended and from then until the end of the fight the customers never sat down.” - Sam Langford
.
(enhanced photo courtesy of CBS contributor JTheron)
*The original (Barbados Demon) Joe Walcott.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Bits & Pieces from 1967
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Chicago, 1922: a metropolis rife with the trappings of 1920s culture. Skyscrapers and traffic. Shoppers, flappers, gangsters. Mass transit, art deco architecture, jazz, The Loop …
In the first three months of the year, Bud Taylor divided his time between Terre Haute and the mega-city 180 miles due north. In Chicago, his managers Kane and Long pitted him against the best available competition. More importantly, the co-managers hired Jack Blackburn to train Taylor and Sammy Mandell.
Blackburn had nearly reached age 40 and was winding down his own fight career of 20-plus years. He had been a talented boxer at various weights, back in the days when fights lasted as long as 40 rounds and a fighter would be lucky to clear $35 a bout. Blackburn’s specialty had been his left, which he used to jab and hook in flashes, and about which he would impart his wisdom to understudies Taylor, Mandell and later, Joe Louis.
Outside the ring, Blackburn liked to aim his lefts and rights to his own lips with bottles of beer, transforming an otherwise pleasant man--one who loved dogs, fishing and playing cards--into a belligerent drunk. Blackburn shot three people in 1909, one died, and he served four years of a 15-year prison sentence.
Not surprisingly, a lot of people were afraid of Blackburn. Even in street clothes, he looked menacing, a balding man with a weathered face marked with a knife-scar lengthy enough to impress a pirate--the remnant of a bar fight. But inside a roped ring, the man was in his element. Blackburn knew boxing and he taught it tactfully. For example, he avoided criticizing fighters in the presence of other fighters, instead taking them aside to confer.
Blackburn’s tutelage suited the promising young talent before him–and more the greener Taylor than Mandell. Bud had considered his left-hand punch merely a setup for his “sweetheart” right, but Blackburn laid the groundwork to change that thinking.
Eddie Long liked what he saw in the progress of his newest acquisition. “He’s title bound, that’s all there is to it …” he boasted about Taylor to a Terre Haute sportswriter early in 1922.
The grooming to place Taylor in such contention continued Jan. 13, 1922, against George Corbett, a south Chicago brawler. The fight took place inside what the newspapers referred to only as a “suburban arena,” its site undisclosed presumably to protect the principals from arrest.
Corbett was a popular fellow among the stockyards crowd, and Taylor heard the strains of a hostile audience as the pair volleyed in the early rounds. The bout met its abrupt end in the middle of the third round, when Taylor rocked Corbett with a punch that broke his jaw in three places. The injury disfigured Corbett’s face, but the wounded man gamely continued to flail away with his mouth open while the crowd yelled wildly. Boxing writer Ed Smith, refereeing the fight, saw that the front teeth of Corbett’s lower jaw had been smashed back into his palate. When Smith heard Corbett making what Smith later described as “inarticulate sounds,” Smith stopped the fight.
In those days, a broken jaw ended a fighter’s career. The injury forced Corbett to retire from the ring, the main source of his income. A month later, Corbett’s friends organized a benefit boxing exhibition/party for him in the visitation hall at 54th and Peoria streets, Chicago. The event raised $1,000 for the disabled fighter. Taylor traveled to Chicago to box in the exhibition, paying for his own way and that of a sparring partner, winning many friends by his kindness.
(Excerpt from 'The Terror of Terre Haute, Bud Taylor and the 1920s' by John D. Wright)
In the first three months of the year, Bud Taylor divided his time between Terre Haute and the mega-city 180 miles due north. In Chicago, his managers Kane and Long pitted him against the best available competition. More importantly, the co-managers hired Jack Blackburn to train Taylor and Sammy Mandell.
Blackburn had nearly reached age 40 and was winding down his own fight career of 20-plus years. He had been a talented boxer at various weights, back in the days when fights lasted as long as 40 rounds and a fighter would be lucky to clear $35 a bout. Blackburn’s specialty had been his left, which he used to jab and hook in flashes, and about which he would impart his wisdom to understudies Taylor, Mandell and later, Joe Louis.
Outside the ring, Blackburn liked to aim his lefts and rights to his own lips with bottles of beer, transforming an otherwise pleasant man--one who loved dogs, fishing and playing cards--into a belligerent drunk. Blackburn shot three people in 1909, one died, and he served four years of a 15-year prison sentence.
Not surprisingly, a lot of people were afraid of Blackburn. Even in street clothes, he looked menacing, a balding man with a weathered face marked with a knife-scar lengthy enough to impress a pirate--the remnant of a bar fight. But inside a roped ring, the man was in his element. Blackburn knew boxing and he taught it tactfully. For example, he avoided criticizing fighters in the presence of other fighters, instead taking them aside to confer.
Blackburn’s tutelage suited the promising young talent before him–and more the greener Taylor than Mandell. Bud had considered his left-hand punch merely a setup for his “sweetheart” right, but Blackburn laid the groundwork to change that thinking.
Eddie Long liked what he saw in the progress of his newest acquisition. “He’s title bound, that’s all there is to it …” he boasted about Taylor to a Terre Haute sportswriter early in 1922.
The grooming to place Taylor in such contention continued Jan. 13, 1922, against George Corbett, a south Chicago brawler. The fight took place inside what the newspapers referred to only as a “suburban arena,” its site undisclosed presumably to protect the principals from arrest.
Corbett was a popular fellow among the stockyards crowd, and Taylor heard the strains of a hostile audience as the pair volleyed in the early rounds. The bout met its abrupt end in the middle of the third round, when Taylor rocked Corbett with a punch that broke his jaw in three places. The injury disfigured Corbett’s face, but the wounded man gamely continued to flail away with his mouth open while the crowd yelled wildly. Boxing writer Ed Smith, refereeing the fight, saw that the front teeth of Corbett’s lower jaw had been smashed back into his palate. When Smith heard Corbett making what Smith later described as “inarticulate sounds,” Smith stopped the fight.
In those days, a broken jaw ended a fighter’s career. The injury forced Corbett to retire from the ring, the main source of his income. A month later, Corbett’s friends organized a benefit boxing exhibition/party for him in the visitation hall at 54th and Peoria streets, Chicago. The event raised $1,000 for the disabled fighter. Taylor traveled to Chicago to box in the exhibition, paying for his own way and that of a sparring partner, winning many friends by his kindness.
(Excerpt from 'The Terror of Terre Haute, Bud Taylor and the 1920s' by John D. Wright)
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
"I'd have to say it's a toss-up between Ted Kid Lewis and Harry Greb. Both were great. Lewis could box and hit. Greb was not as other men; he started his fights at a fast pace and accelerated as the fight went on." - Augie Ratner, when being asked to choose the best man he ever faced.
From 1967...
From 1967...
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
1969 article discussing the career of 19-year old George Foreman and his aspirations as a pro...
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
It's January 24th, 1976. George Foreman stands in the ring across from Ron Lyle, a massive, powerfully built man with a record of 33-3-1.
This is the first time that Big George has challenged a credible opponent since October of ‘74, when he was famously stopped by Muhammad Ali, after battering the former heavyweight champion mercilessly for seven straight rounds.
To Foreman's mind, it wasn't Ali that beat him. It was exhaustion. Something must have been wrong with him, the way he sees it, and he is determined to prove that he is still the greatest heavyweight on earth. In 1975 he traveled to Toronto to challenge five men in one night. His opponents--Alonzo Johnson, Jerry Judge, Terry Daniels, Charley Polite, and Boone Kirkman--were journeymen, most of them with losing records aside from Kirkman, who had nonetheless experienced four straight losses leading up to the bout. Foreman beat every one of them with ease, sadistically mocking his victims as he sent blow after thundering blow crashing against their chins. Meanwhile, Ali sat ringside, and mocked Foreman just as viciously, loudly advising his opponents to lay on the ropes and tire the big man out, just as Ali himself had done six months before. This infuriated Foreman, and he took out his rage on his hapless opposition. By the end of the night, Foreman was holding his hands high as the crowd hurled their derision--in the form of jeers and empty bottles--into the ring.
The "experiment" was supposed to have proved some point about Foreman's endurance, but all it really did was reveal how highly he thinks of himself, and how little he cares for losing. This is not a man who learns lessons from his losses. This is a man who thinks himself incapable of suffering true defeat.
This man thinks he is invincible, and Ron Lyle is about to test that.
Two minutes in, and Foreman looks confident. He moves around Lyle, not quite dancing as he did in Toronto, but not picking the shorter man apart either. For a man who became heavyweight champion of the world by knocking out Joe Frazier in two rounds in 1973, this is strange. Years later, Foreman would admit that he had feared Frazier--even proclaiming that had the great Philly fighter looked down, he would have noticed Big George's big knees quivering. Now, however, it's clear that Foreman doesn't fear Lyle in the slightest. He doesn't even respect him.
With twenty seconds remaining in the first round, Lyle flashes his jab and lands a thudding overhand right that shakes Foreman's foundations. The giant stumbles, but refuses to go down. Held up by pride, he clinches, trying to tie up the arms of his aggressor in order to make it out of the round.
When the bell rings, Foreman is still on his feet. Wobbly, he returns to his corner, looking almost baffled by the turn of events. How could this man--this Ron Lyle--possibly hurt him? Not even Ali had truly been able to hurt him. No one could hurt George Foreman.
As the referee orders the seconds out, Foreman remains on his stool, his eyes fixed on the man across the ring. Just a man, and nothing more. Not invincible like himself. He chews his mouthpiece, tensing his unbreakable jaw in preparation for the work to come. Lyle is just a man, and in his seven years as a professional Foreman has knocked out 31 other men just like him.
The bell rings. Foreman rises, and resolves to do it again.
Foreman is hitting, hitting, hitting, but Ron Lyle is still fighting. In round two, Foreman had forced his way back into the bout. When, at the end of the round, Lyle got in with a counter, Foreman locked eyes with him. "That won't happen again," he seemed to say.
Now it's round three, and Foreman is determined to finish Lyle for good, the shame of the first round driving him on. Big George lands combinations of three and four punches apiece, but Lyle keeps responding. He's not throwing as much as George, no, but he's not quitting either. After every Foreman left hook he answers, sending that same right hand over the top and into Big George's face. Foreman keeps throwing.
Finally a shot manages to stagger Lyle, but the big man throws back all the same. And again. Foreman refuses to back down. One, two, three. They trade right hands, then left hooks. And again. Foreman is throwing everything he has into these blows, nearing upending himself in the process. This isn't boxing anymore. This is war.
At last, Lyle stumbles to the canvas, ending up in an awkward heap at Foreman's feet. The former champion walks to his corner, his chest heaving from the effort. Finally, he thinks to himself, he has done it. No one can withstand his power.
In center ring, Ron Lyle rises to his feet.
Foreman can't believe it, but Lyle is still conscious. More than that, he's fighting back again. His opponent's back to the ropes, Foreman smashes away, each punch more desperate than the last. His skills are waning as he grows weary, but his furious pride fuels him on. Lyle bulls into him, returning the fight to center ring. Foreman sticks his left into the enemy's chest, preparing to unleash another barrage. Ron Lyle musters his strength, and counters.
There's no holding on this time, as Foreman plummets to the canvas face-first. The big man crawls, child-like, to his feet. He is dazed, hurt, and enraged like never before. As the referee finishes the count, Foreman looks straight past him, at the man who dared to knock Big George Foreman down. The round is over, and in the commentary booth Howard Cosell mentions that there is no saving by the bell in this fight.
George Foreman knows otherwise. Beating the count, he returns to his corner, shooting a glance over his shoulder on the way. As he sits on his stool, he looks over his cornermen's heads and stares, hatefully, at Ron Lyle. Foreman's mouth is open, and he gasps for air. Just a few more seconds in the round, he seems to think, and I would've had him.
Foreman is hitting, and getting hit. Lyle refuses to quit of his own accord, but he is breaking. George can feel it. He hammers his foe against the ropes, just like he did to Ali back in Zaire. Lyle covers up, but the punches are getting through, one after the other. He won't stand for much more. He can't. No one can survive Foreman's power.
One, two, three, four--Foreman hurls left hook after left hook at Lyle's head. Lyle counters over some of them, but the counters don't hurt anymore. Nobody can punch like Big George. When the lefts alone don't do the trick, Foreman, adds in the right hand, mindlessly swinging, left-right, left-right, left-right. Every blow is landing. Lyle is breaking. Foreman keeps punching.
Finally Lyle collapses forward, leaning into the chest of the man who continues pounding at his skull. He falls to his knees, exhausted, and nearly unconscious. He can't take anymore. He can't even stand. The referee counts him out, and it's all over.
Foreman walks to the ropes. The audience is screaming, cheering--men and women jumping up and down in wild celebration of his great victory. He is too exhausted to raise his arms, so his gathering entourage does it for him.
Looking into the crowd, he smiles. They came for blood, and he gave it to them.
And all it took was one more punch.
(By Connor Ruebusch)
...................................................................
The above article is curated from excerpts from a larger article by Connor Ruebusch (UFC Boston - Conor McGregor: The Puncher's Path), which also contains animated gif's to compliment the article and can be read here...
http://www.bloodyelbow.com/2015/1/16/75 ... irier-lyle
This is the first time that Big George has challenged a credible opponent since October of ‘74, when he was famously stopped by Muhammad Ali, after battering the former heavyweight champion mercilessly for seven straight rounds.
To Foreman's mind, it wasn't Ali that beat him. It was exhaustion. Something must have been wrong with him, the way he sees it, and he is determined to prove that he is still the greatest heavyweight on earth. In 1975 he traveled to Toronto to challenge five men in one night. His opponents--Alonzo Johnson, Jerry Judge, Terry Daniels, Charley Polite, and Boone Kirkman--were journeymen, most of them with losing records aside from Kirkman, who had nonetheless experienced four straight losses leading up to the bout. Foreman beat every one of them with ease, sadistically mocking his victims as he sent blow after thundering blow crashing against their chins. Meanwhile, Ali sat ringside, and mocked Foreman just as viciously, loudly advising his opponents to lay on the ropes and tire the big man out, just as Ali himself had done six months before. This infuriated Foreman, and he took out his rage on his hapless opposition. By the end of the night, Foreman was holding his hands high as the crowd hurled their derision--in the form of jeers and empty bottles--into the ring.
The "experiment" was supposed to have proved some point about Foreman's endurance, but all it really did was reveal how highly he thinks of himself, and how little he cares for losing. This is not a man who learns lessons from his losses. This is a man who thinks himself incapable of suffering true defeat.
This man thinks he is invincible, and Ron Lyle is about to test that.
Two minutes in, and Foreman looks confident. He moves around Lyle, not quite dancing as he did in Toronto, but not picking the shorter man apart either. For a man who became heavyweight champion of the world by knocking out Joe Frazier in two rounds in 1973, this is strange. Years later, Foreman would admit that he had feared Frazier--even proclaiming that had the great Philly fighter looked down, he would have noticed Big George's big knees quivering. Now, however, it's clear that Foreman doesn't fear Lyle in the slightest. He doesn't even respect him.
With twenty seconds remaining in the first round, Lyle flashes his jab and lands a thudding overhand right that shakes Foreman's foundations. The giant stumbles, but refuses to go down. Held up by pride, he clinches, trying to tie up the arms of his aggressor in order to make it out of the round.
When the bell rings, Foreman is still on his feet. Wobbly, he returns to his corner, looking almost baffled by the turn of events. How could this man--this Ron Lyle--possibly hurt him? Not even Ali had truly been able to hurt him. No one could hurt George Foreman.
As the referee orders the seconds out, Foreman remains on his stool, his eyes fixed on the man across the ring. Just a man, and nothing more. Not invincible like himself. He chews his mouthpiece, tensing his unbreakable jaw in preparation for the work to come. Lyle is just a man, and in his seven years as a professional Foreman has knocked out 31 other men just like him.
The bell rings. Foreman rises, and resolves to do it again.
Foreman is hitting, hitting, hitting, but Ron Lyle is still fighting. In round two, Foreman had forced his way back into the bout. When, at the end of the round, Lyle got in with a counter, Foreman locked eyes with him. "That won't happen again," he seemed to say.
Now it's round three, and Foreman is determined to finish Lyle for good, the shame of the first round driving him on. Big George lands combinations of three and four punches apiece, but Lyle keeps responding. He's not throwing as much as George, no, but he's not quitting either. After every Foreman left hook he answers, sending that same right hand over the top and into Big George's face. Foreman keeps throwing.
Finally a shot manages to stagger Lyle, but the big man throws back all the same. And again. Foreman refuses to back down. One, two, three. They trade right hands, then left hooks. And again. Foreman is throwing everything he has into these blows, nearing upending himself in the process. This isn't boxing anymore. This is war.
At last, Lyle stumbles to the canvas, ending up in an awkward heap at Foreman's feet. The former champion walks to his corner, his chest heaving from the effort. Finally, he thinks to himself, he has done it. No one can withstand his power.
In center ring, Ron Lyle rises to his feet.
Foreman can't believe it, but Lyle is still conscious. More than that, he's fighting back again. His opponent's back to the ropes, Foreman smashes away, each punch more desperate than the last. His skills are waning as he grows weary, but his furious pride fuels him on. Lyle bulls into him, returning the fight to center ring. Foreman sticks his left into the enemy's chest, preparing to unleash another barrage. Ron Lyle musters his strength, and counters.
There's no holding on this time, as Foreman plummets to the canvas face-first. The big man crawls, child-like, to his feet. He is dazed, hurt, and enraged like never before. As the referee finishes the count, Foreman looks straight past him, at the man who dared to knock Big George Foreman down. The round is over, and in the commentary booth Howard Cosell mentions that there is no saving by the bell in this fight.
George Foreman knows otherwise. Beating the count, he returns to his corner, shooting a glance over his shoulder on the way. As he sits on his stool, he looks over his cornermen's heads and stares, hatefully, at Ron Lyle. Foreman's mouth is open, and he gasps for air. Just a few more seconds in the round, he seems to think, and I would've had him.
Foreman is hitting, and getting hit. Lyle refuses to quit of his own accord, but he is breaking. George can feel it. He hammers his foe against the ropes, just like he did to Ali back in Zaire. Lyle covers up, but the punches are getting through, one after the other. He won't stand for much more. He can't. No one can survive Foreman's power.
One, two, three, four--Foreman hurls left hook after left hook at Lyle's head. Lyle counters over some of them, but the counters don't hurt anymore. Nobody can punch like Big George. When the lefts alone don't do the trick, Foreman, adds in the right hand, mindlessly swinging, left-right, left-right, left-right. Every blow is landing. Lyle is breaking. Foreman keeps punching.
Finally Lyle collapses forward, leaning into the chest of the man who continues pounding at his skull. He falls to his knees, exhausted, and nearly unconscious. He can't take anymore. He can't even stand. The referee counts him out, and it's all over.
Foreman walks to the ropes. The audience is screaming, cheering--men and women jumping up and down in wild celebration of his great victory. He is too exhausted to raise his arms, so his gathering entourage does it for him.
Looking into the crowd, he smiles. They came for blood, and he gave it to them.
And all it took was one more punch.
(By Connor Ruebusch)
...................................................................
The above article is curated from excerpts from a larger article by Connor Ruebusch (UFC Boston - Conor McGregor: The Puncher's Path), which also contains animated gif's to compliment the article and can be read here...
http://www.bloodyelbow.com/2015/1/16/75 ... irier-lyle
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Oct 13, 1973 - Forum, Inglewood, California, USA
"Mexico's Rafael Herrera retained his WBC bantamweight title Saturday night by scoring a split decision over Thailand's Venice Borkorsor in a punishing 15 round fight at the Forum. Herrera had the shorter Borkorsor on the canvas in the 7th round for the fight's only knockdown. However, at the end, Herrera could barely see from both eyes while Borkorsor, the former WBC flyweight titleholder, was unmarked."
(United Press International)
There was a good little southpaw out of Thailand in the early 1970s named Venice Borkhorsor. He won the flyweight title and then met Rafael Herrera for the bantamweight title. It was a war! Borkhorsor built up a big lead but Herrera came on down the stretch to pull out a disputed decision and retain his title. Herrera looked like the loser as his eyes were battered and almost closed.
(by Jim Amato)
It was a dirty fight. Borkorsor started butting me about the 2nd round on. I will give him credit, though, he hits very hard.
(Rafael Herrera)
It was a very good fight, but I feel it was a bad decision.
(Venice Borkorsor)
There is no chance he can fight Romeo Anaya this year. Maybe in January or February.
(Cuco Cuate, Herrera's manager, when asked if Herrera would be ready - healed - to unify the title before the end of the year.)
The split decision win for Herrera, who fought the last five rounds almost totally blind, was almost as absurd as the reluctance on the part of Referee Larry Rozadilla to take points away from the Thai fighter for continually head-butting Herrera.
(Craig Doolittle, of the Pasadena Star-News.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uiKaCynnsfU
"Mexico's Rafael Herrera retained his WBC bantamweight title Saturday night by scoring a split decision over Thailand's Venice Borkorsor in a punishing 15 round fight at the Forum. Herrera had the shorter Borkorsor on the canvas in the 7th round for the fight's only knockdown. However, at the end, Herrera could barely see from both eyes while Borkorsor, the former WBC flyweight titleholder, was unmarked."
(United Press International)
There was a good little southpaw out of Thailand in the early 1970s named Venice Borkhorsor. He won the flyweight title and then met Rafael Herrera for the bantamweight title. It was a war! Borkhorsor built up a big lead but Herrera came on down the stretch to pull out a disputed decision and retain his title. Herrera looked like the loser as his eyes were battered and almost closed.
(by Jim Amato)
It was a dirty fight. Borkorsor started butting me about the 2nd round on. I will give him credit, though, he hits very hard.
(Rafael Herrera)
It was a very good fight, but I feel it was a bad decision.
(Venice Borkorsor)
There is no chance he can fight Romeo Anaya this year. Maybe in January or February.
(Cuco Cuate, Herrera's manager, when asked if Herrera would be ready - healed - to unify the title before the end of the year.)
The split decision win for Herrera, who fought the last five rounds almost totally blind, was almost as absurd as the reluctance on the part of Referee Larry Rozadilla to take points away from the Thai fighter for continually head-butting Herrera.
(Craig Doolittle, of the Pasadena Star-News.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uiKaCynnsfU