bits and pieces scrapbook

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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23 February 1939

Eric Boon v Arthur Danaher was the first occasion that the BBC had been permitted to televise a boxing match but also the first time a transmission had been shown live to a paying audience in cinemas (the Marble Arch Pavilion and the Tatler News Theatre). This preceded the first televised heavyweight boxing match (Max Baer vs Lou Nova, from Yankee Stadium) which was held on 1 June 1939.

The match, which pitched super-stylist Danahar against the ferocious, all-action Boon, was a mouth-watering prospect that exceeded expectations. Danahar was stopped in the fourteenth round of what turned out to be one of the most exciting British title showdowns ever.

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"One afternoon, Jack Dempsey strolled quietly into Stillman's gym on eight avenue and after passing the time of day with several old pals, he walked up on to the balcony while "Two Ton" Tony Galento was going through the motions of working out. Galento was fatter than ever, hopelessly out of condition and quite obviously doing nothing about it.

Anyway, he didn't see Dempsey and continued waddling lazily around the ring, clowning wisecracking and grinning as he fooled with his sparring parthers. After watching a couple of rounds Dempsey came down to ringside. He was wearing a beautifully cut light grey suit, tan and white shoes, and white silk shirt and when Tony caught a sight of him, he waved a glove at the ex champ.

''Hiya Jack" he grinned. ''You look like a million bucks dis afternoon'' Dempsey gave him a mean look, ''never mind how I look, you big bum" he said "lets see you do some work''

Galento must have thought he was joking, because he made no attempt to speed up his work and carried on ambling around until Dempsey blew up. ''Have you a pair of Gloves Ray?" called out Dempsey. Then taking off his coat, he stripped right down to his white silk, monogrammed underpants and vaulted into the ring.

''Now Tony'' he said ''it's you and me. I'II show you how we used to do it'' He began huming a little tune - and old Dempsey mannerism- and then, as Galento backed away, he flashed into action. Jack was 40 years old, but his body was lean and tanned, and for three memorable minutes he was the old Dempsey, the murderous, tearaway Manassa Mauler of the 1920's.

He ripped punches into Galento's podgy torso from all angles, split his lips with a terrific left and sent the blood spurting from his nose. ''Lay Off Jack'' Galento gasped as he staggered backwards vainly trying to cover up. But Dempsey showed him no mercy, he chased after him until time was called.

Still breathing easily Dempsey ducked under the ropes and began to dress, while Galento stood shaking his head in a semi daze and trying to wipe the blood from his face with the back of his gloves.

When dressed, Dempsey gave him one contemptuous look. ''That's how we used to fight!!" "

(Ray Arcel: A Boxing Biography)


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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"Dressing room No. 26 in the rear of New York's Madison Square Garden is a windowless pit that holds heat like a thermos. Behind its heavy steel door, Room 26 contains nothing but the basic needs for a fighter in training - two low benches pressed against the grim, peeling walls, a small tiled shower, an archaic bronze-colored scale that has lost too many decisions to oxidation, a rubbing table only recently oiled and repadded to disguise its oblique past. Every day for six weeks prior to meeting Joe Giardello for the world middleweight championship, Dick Tiger, the courtly 36-year-old Nigerian challenger, would come to this room and sit on a bench in the 90 degree heat.

......

Right from the first round, Tiger flicked jab after jab at Giardello. From a far corner there even came the sound of an apesi, a Nigerian drum. Played by a friend of Tiger's, it beat constantly, and its message was "keep punchin'." In turn, Giardello's fans from Philadelphia started chanting "Hey, hey, take it away," in the ninth round when Joey seemed to rally, but there was very little that Giardello could do to take anything away. As the fight moved toward the 15th round, his combinations had totally disappeared, his legs looked stiff and Tiger's jab was keeping him from ever getting a chance to throw the big right hand that would knock Tiger out. Giardello was courageous, as he always has been, and he was thoroughly beaten, as he hadn't often been.

......

In his dressing room after the fight Tiger looked like a woodcut print of a boxer, while Giardello, sitting on a table across the arena, lifted his mashed profile and announced, rather proudly, his retirement."

(William Leggett)

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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The Champion who literally had an iron chin.

Eugene Criqui whose jaw and part of his chin were shattered in WW1 by a snipers bullet. Surgeons rebuilt his face with iron and titanium.
After the war he resumed boxing. He won the French featherweight title in 1921 and the next year won the European Boxing Union featherweight championship. On June 2, 1923, he beat Johnny Kilbane by a sixth-round knockout in New York City to win the world featherweight title.

Had over 100 bouts with a reconstructed iron jaw and chin.

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"The toughest fight I ever had was with Richie Mitchell in 1921. I almost lost the title then because of Arnold Rothstein, the gambler. Before the fight, Rothstein asked me whether I thought it would be a tough fight. Four years earlier I had knocked out Mitchell in seven rounds, and I told Rothstein this time I thought I could take him in one. That prospect intrigued him, and he said he could get good odds on a first-round knockout and would put $25,000 on it. He said he would give me a piece of the bet for nothing. Well, Arnie was a good friend and I didn't want to disappoint him. I also wanted to pick up some of that money, so I tore into Mitchell at the opening bell. In less than a minute, I had Mitchell down for a nine count. He got up, but I put him down again for another nine count. With a little more than a minute left, I landed a solid left hook and Mitchell crumpled again. He went down as if he could never make it up before the 10 count, but he made it at eight. I knew one more solid punch and it would be over. It came quickly, but I didn't land it. Out of nowhere, Mitchell dug a solid left to my stomach and all the air went out of me. He followed with a right to the chin and I went down. I didn't know where I was; I was in worse shape than Mitchell had been in. They tell me I got up at seven - it must have been out of instinct - and I held on till the end of the round. I finally knocked him out in the sixth. Rothstein came into the dressing room after the fight and told me he could never get the bet down...."
- Benny Leonard

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"Most of the crowd were standing on chairs now, roaring protestor encouragement. A wadded newspaper landed in the ring, then somebody's hat. The referee kept his fascinated gaze on the fighters, like a young lab assistant observing a couple of ferocious insects.

Davis walked across the ring and fired a left hook that landed, according to one reporter, "about a foot above Zivic's knees." Zivic's face screwed up in pain, then settled into righteous indignation as he glanced at Referee Billy Cavanagh. Cavanagh was looking elsewhere.

Davis returned to the attack. Another low blow brought a chorus of boos from the crowd. Zivic backed away, but Davis pursued him, ripping two more left hooks into his groin. Fritzie, his face contorted with pain, hopped stiffly, first on one leg, then on the other. He fired back at Davis, rocking his head and drawing blood again from his mouth. But Bummy, in his passion, was impervious to punishment. He crowded Zivic, hooked him low, shifted his attack to the ribs and then lowered it once more. Only once did Referee Cavanagh warn him to keep his punches up.Davis dug another left into Zivic's groin.

Finally, at 2:34 of the second round,Cavanagh stopped the fight......Or, at least, he tried to. But Bummy was not yet ready. His answer to the referee's restraining gesture was to bounce a left hook off Zivic's skull. Faced with a more orthodox attack now, Zivic quickly solved it by hooking Davis twice in the face, bloodying his nose. Handlers from both corners, as well as a squad of burly special cops, poured through the ropes and tried to drag the berserk Davis to his corner. Bummy, his arms pinioned now, aimed a kick at Zivic, who had plunged into the struggling mob. Missing the intended target area on Fritzie's trunks, the kick instead caught Referee Cavanagh in the thigh. Bummy finally was hauled, spitting and cursing, from the ring.

The fight was awarded to Zivic on a foul. Even while the excited crowd streamed out of the Garden, journalists and politicians prepared to publish their outrage to the world. General Phelan, chairman of the New York State Athletic Commission, called the fight "the most disgraceful thing I ever saw," and banned Davis from boxing in New York state "for life".

Having joined the Army shortly afterward, Davis was granted a pass by his commanding general and a pardon by General Phelan on condition that he fight Zivic again for an Army charity. In a bout notable for its strict adherence to the commission's regulations, Zivic dealt Davis a savage beating and stopped him in the 10th round. But this orthodox defeat did nothing to break Bummy's rebellious spirit.

Some years later Bummy Davis was shot to death as he charged, bare-handed, into an armed gang trying to hold up the store of a friend in Brownsville. He was still trying to get that left hook across when he went down."

(from sports illustrated)

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"Before Johnny left for his New York training camp we talked at length about the future and he told me he knew we had not spent enough time together, that it had been one training session after another, but he tried to explain to me that he was finally in the position he had been waiting so many years to reach. He felt that if he won the title he wouldn't have to worry about anything else. He explained that champions get the largest share of the gate receipts and that he wouldn't have to fight as often as he had previously done working to the top.

I flew to New York the day before the fight and registered at the Roosevelt Hotel. Johnny had come in from camp and stayed at the Edison Hotel. Johnny came to see me the afternoon of the fight just after he had left the weighin and, as always, there were three or four fellows with him. He had to go eat his dinner at Jack Dempsey's restaurant at 4 o'clock so we didn't have much time together. As I walked to the elevator with him I took his hand and he flinched. I asked him about it and he told me not to worry. But I couldn't help worrying because I knew Johnny was no complainer.

I could not stand to watch the fight and shortly after the first round I went out to the lobby and walked around. The scene soon resembled a motion picture. One by one all of the people who had been sitting in our section - Johnny had purchased all of the tickets together - came out to the lobby and even Johnny's brothers joined us. His oldest brother passed me as if he didn't recognize me, and when I ran up to him all he said was, "They should stop it. Johnny has been hurt." I thought the fight would never end, and finally, from what seemed like a great distance, I could hear the announcer say: " Kid Gavilan, the winner!"

At the dressing room I learned Johnny was to be taken to the hospital right away. His jaw had been broken a third time and he had a broken bone in his right hand. I will never be convinced that he didn't go into the ring with a broken hand. In spite of his handicaps Johnny finished the full 15 rounds and was never knocked down. Within the next few days he had the wisdom teeth on the right side of his jaw removed, as had been done to the left side just a year before, and went back to the camp where he had trained for the fight. He said he needed time to get himself together and he wanted to be alone where he could think things out clearly and decide what his next move would be.

Johnny stayed at camp for almost two months. I was coming to the point where I felt that our marriage would never work. The baby was a little more than a year old now and he didn't even know his father. We didn't have any place that we could call home. Johnny agreed with me in principle, but he kept repeating one idea - this was no time to become disheartened. He asked for more time to get himself together.

It seemed he was always able to reach that point in fighting where he had only one more fight to win and everything would be all right in his world. Then, at the crucial moment with everything at stake, he could never pull through this last fight.

After a brief visit to Detroit, Johnny went to Chicago and I didn't hear from him again for two months. I tried calling everywhere but to no avail. His mother said she hadn't seen him, and even though I left messages he never returned my calls. He hadn't called even to find out how the baby was.

I got a job in Detroit and was working for about three weeks when one evening the phone rang. "Hi, Jo, what are you doing?" Johnny said casually. I had planned for weeks what I would say to him. Now that the time was here I was at a loss for words. The reason he hadn't gotten in touch with me, he said, was because there was nothing he could tell me. When I told him I was working he became quite disturbed and said he would be in Detroit the next day. The next day when I came home from work his car was parked in front of the house. I tried to be stern and forceful in the things I said to him but deep down inside I could see the change that had come over him and I knew he hadn't been too happy either. Johnny had decided to give fighting another try.

We had become indebted to the IBC to the extent of some $18,000, and Mr. Wallman had sent Johnny money during these months he had been laid off. We also owed the government $36,000 in back income taxes. Johnny explained that he knew no other way to erase these tremendous financial obligations. Mr. Wallman had told Johnny he wanted us to come to New York where he would get an apartment for us and make all the necessary arrangements. He would advance Johnny any money necessary for current living expenses until he could fight again. I wanted to go to New York, or anywhere else where we could all be together.

I came to New York and took a cab to Flushing, Long Island, which was to be our address and home from that first day of October 1951. It was more than I had expected. Johnny came in from camp and finished training at home for his next bout against Wilbur Wilson. It was the first time I had ever been able to cook his meals, go to the gym with him, take care of his clothes and really feel that I was helping him in his career.

At 26, when most men are just reaching the height of their careers, Johnny was an old man in the ring. On November 13, 1953 he was to fight Kid Gavilan again for the welterweight title. This was his second attempt to become world champion, and still the only prayer that I could offer was for him not to get hurt. The day of the fight Johnny seemed weaker than I had seen him in a long time and his face was very thin and drawn. The tension was stronger than I had ever felt it before. Everywhere the fight was advertised and everywhere people were after Johnny for attention. Under the pressure, Johnny did a funny thing. He shadowboxed on the street, something he had never done before.

I left the hotel for the fight a full half hour after it had started and I went in the first church I saw on the way to the stadium. I think it was a Catholic church, though I'm not a Catholic. The fight was still going on when I reached the stadium. I waited near the dressing room. After an eternity I could hear the crowds of people rushing from their seats, and again the announcer's voice reached my ears: "And still welterweight champion of the world, Kid Gavilan."

A crowd gathered at the dressing room door, and photographers began asking me to pose for pictures and popping questions at me from all sides. I saw Kid Gavilan come through and finally caught a glimpse of Johnny being almost carried by his handlers. Johnny's mother came past me, and the officer on the door allowed us to go into the dressing room, which was already so overcrowded with people that it was hard to catch your breath.

Johnny was in a prone position on the table and his face was completely covered by towels. For the first time in my life I heard him cry. I left the dressing room to try to compose myself. When Johnny finally came out he had on dark glasses, but they did not cover the horrible sight of his completely disfigured face. At the hotel the outer room of the suite was filled to capacity with people. When I went into the bedroom I wanted to turn and run but most of all I wished that I would soon awaken from what I hoped was a nightmare.

Johnny's face was indistinguishable. His eyes were so swollen that he couldn't open them at all. I walked up to the bed and he said, "Jo, is that you?" He then reached out his swollen hand to touch me. He wasn't out of his head but he just kept repeating that he couldn't understand what had happened to him. He said that he lost all of his strength in the seventh round. It was difficult for him to talk because he had gotten hit in the Adam's apple and he complained that his throat was very sore.

It was two days before Johnny could open his eyes at all. I came into the room and he said, "Jo, I can see you" - just as a child might have said it. I read him all of the newspapers and telegrams that he had received, and before long his friends started coming by. His parents took me aside and begged me to get him to stop fighting. I tried to explain what had happened before and that I was resigned to the fact that Johnny would not quit until he made the decision himself."

(Joanne Jackson - former wife of Johnny Bratton)


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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"Mathis actually grabbed referee Al Berl by the shoulders and threw him aside in his desire to get at Chuvalo. Chuvalo had be warned twice about hitting low, after he was warned one more time the referee Al Berl began to move in like he was going to warn him, Buster Mathis took two steps back and tee'd off from around his knees looking to hit as low as he could, and he caught Chuvalo, who never even flinched, it was then that they began to get really mad with each other. Chuvalo at one time used his head like a paint brush across the face of Mathis....this could be one hell of a night..."

and it all happened in the 1st round...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PRtG6fSpy9w
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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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The curious case of Joe Louis having to defend his world heavyweight title in a scheduled four-rounder...against Johnny Davis, who sported a record of 3-3-0...

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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In 1918, Billy Miske was told by his doctor that he had Bright's disease, a kidney related condition, and that he had five years to live, if he was lucky...especially in a sport where punches to those kidneys were likely.
Miske decided to keep the news from his family, only telling his manager, and he continued to box, most notably losing to Jack Dempsey in a third-round knockout in 1920.
Despite that loss to Dempsey, Miske continued to fight and win for the most part, only losing one fight from over twenty between 1921 and 1922, but by 1923 his health was failing and his time was running out.
In November 1923, struggling financially and with a strong desire to give his wife and three kids one last memorable Christmas together, Miske convinced his manager Jack Reddy to get him a fight.

................................

'Jack', said Billy, 'get me a fight.'
'You must be kidding, you're in no condition to fight,' Jack replied.
'Get me a fight anyway!'
Jack shook his head. 'I won't do it.'
'Look, Jack,' pleaded Billy, 'I'm flat broke. I know I haven't long to go, and I want to give Marie and the kids one more happy Christmas before I check out. I won't be around for another. Please get me one more payday. I want to make Christmas this year something Marie and the children will always remember me for.'
'Look,' said Jack, 'you know as well as I do that if you were to fight in your present condition you might be killed.'
'Sure, but I'm a fighter and I'd rather die in the ring than while sitting home in a rocking chair.'
Jack pulled out his wallet. 'Let me help you. How much do you need?'
'No way,' Bill put his hand up like a wall. 'I've never taken a handout and I'm not gonna start now.'
'Here's what I'll do,' Jack said. 'You go to the gym and start working out. If you get into any reasonable kind of shape, we'll talk about getting you a match.'
'You know I can't do that,' Billy replied. 'It's impossible for me to train, but I've got to have one more fight for my family's sake. Please do it for me. Please.'
Jack sighed. 'I'll live to regret this.' He stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. 'Let me see what I can do.'

...............................

His opponent was Bill Brennan, whom he knocked out, taking a $2,400 payday in the process, which he used to make his last Christmas with family unforgettable. Billy bought a piano for his wife Marie, who was an accomplished singer, and piles of gifts for his three children. The next day, Billy called Jack Reddy and asked Jack to take him to the hospital. En route, Billy told Marie for the first time that he was dying.

Miske died on New Year's Day. He was 29 years old.

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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The former light-heavyweight champion who was paralytic drunk when he entered the ring with Jack Sharkey.
1928. Madison Square Garden, New York.

"In his last big fight he was matched with future heavyweight champion Jack Sharkey. Once again, the possibility of a crack at the heavyweight crown, and a big gate with Tunney, was in the balance. This time Delaney entered the ring flabby, bloated and listless. When the bell rang for the opening round he was unable to move. Apparently intoxicated to the point of virtual paralysis, Delaney stood staring at his corner as Sharkey came across the ring. Sharkey paused momentarily in disbelief, and then knocked Delaney to the canvas. The fight ended with Delaney on his hands and knees, crawling around the ring like a man looking for a lost button, while the referee counted him out. The emotional Sharkey, his mouth piece hanging halfway out of his mouth, clung to the top ring rope crying in joy, as the furious spectators cried fix.".

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"They drew a pistol on us and took the belt back"

"Juan Zurita, he was past due for a defense so they named me as contender and gave me a shot at it. They threatened to take the title away from him.
Since I was a little kid, I had envisioned being lightweight champion. I dreamed about the lightweight title and I finally won it. So I guess when I won it that night I probably leaped about five feet in the air. I knocked him out in the second round. It was a combination, I'll never forget it, it was a right hand to the body and a left on his chin. He went down for the full count.
I was almost killed down there, too, for beating him. The Mexicans, we were almost killed. Then the Mexicans started throwing bricks and things. The cops, our bodyguards, two cops, looked around, they were gone. Connie McCarthy (my manager), he was knocked out with a brick to the head. His head was split open with that brick. That's when the Mexican came up, he said "Gimmie the belt!" I haven't seen the title belt since that night, since April 18th, 1945. I saw the belt for maybe five minutes. I haven't seen it since. Maybe it's down in Mexico City now. The fellow pulled a pistol out. He was going to kill all of us. So I said "Give the man the damn belt!" They took the belt back. They drew a pistol on us and took the belt back. We made it to the dressing room. They followed us to the airport the next morning." - Ike Williams.

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"MUMBLING INCOHERENTLY, the shriveled little man shuffled into the charity ward of Chicago State Hospital. The doctors looked at him with a mixture of pity and awe. His eyes were blank and his once muscular 133-pound frame had wasted away to a mere 80 pounds. A brash young attendant said callously: "Huh! Another derelict. We're sure getting a lot of them these days." An elderly attendant shot him a cold look. "Do you know who that 'derelict' is?" he snapped angrily. "That 'derelict' is Battling Nelson, one of the greatest fighters who ever lived."
Old Bat, who had licked immortals like Aurelio Herrera, Young Corbett, Jimmy Britt, Terry McGovern and the incomparable Joe Gans, was 71 years old when he was ruled insane and committed in January of 1954. The psychiatrists' diagnosis had been chillingly brief: "Incurable senile dementia." Nobody will ever know what went on in Nelson's tortured mind as he dribbled away his last days amid alien surroundings. Occasionally a flicker of interest would light up his lustreless eyes and he would try to talk. But the words trickled out in a jumble of meaningless phrases. Those familiar with the ex-champion's spectacular career could pick out place names here and there and link them with some of the famous battles that had earned him riches beyond his dreams. Names like Colma... Goldfield... Point Richmond... But what could they make of such mystifying phrases as electric lights... cracks in the floor... sheets of snow... my seven dollar suit...? It was hard to make any sense of this babbling because Nelson, in his wild hallucinations, was conjuring up the broken images of a past less concerned with his great triumphs than with the vivid fragments of memory that often overshadow the important events in a man's life..."
A month later he was dead of lung cancer at age 71. With 68 wins, 19 draws and 19 losses, Bat once said that although he had "lost several fights," he had never been beaten.

(From: Boxing International, Dec. 1974)

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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On his pro debut in 1910 future Australian sensation Les Darcy fought Guv'nor Balsa over a scheduled 10 rounds, the fight was scored a draw and it was decided by all parties to box one more round to decide a winner, which Darcy (aged 14) won on points.
This was the only time, to my knowledge, that a professional fight was won on points over 11 rounds.

(photo below shows Darcy at 15 when he worked as an apprentice blacksmith)

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When Mick Leahy won the British middleweight title against George Aldridge with a first round ko....Sugar Ray Robinson, Muhammad Ali (then Cassius Clay) and Randy Turpin all jumped into the ring to hug Leahy.

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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Jimmy Britt in his first pro fight won a 15 round decision...and in his first two years as a professional fought 5 champions.

Kid Lavigne
Frank Erne
Young Corbett II
Joe Gans
Battling Nelson

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"Marciano's gloved fists broke blood vessels and bones in LaStarza's arms and elbows. First the arms grew heavy, then they began to ache awfully, then they grew numb. As the relentless battle wore on, LaStarza found it harder and harder to raise his arms, much less jab with them or punch with them. His hands lowered, his defense dissipated, Marciano began to punish him about the head. LaStarza began to take a terrible beating." Bill Libby, "The Story of a Champion", 1971.

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Nel Tarleton from liverpool became the British featherweight champion in 1931, and fought for the world title in 1934...and he had only one lung !!
He fought 50 x 15 round fights in his career, a total of 148 fights and was never knocked out.
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Liston came back to his corner after round 2 against Valdes with a nearly closed right eye.
The cornermen were waiting for him with an ice-pack, and hurriedly applied it to the closing right eye in an effort to stop the swelling that was becoming more serious looking by the second.
As the bell sounded for Round 3, Sonny was slow getting out of his corner, and was met by an aggressive Valdes, who rushed at him from across the ring.
In a flash Nino fired a 3-punch volley followed by a stunning left hook that crashed off of Liston's exposed jaw.
Stunned and angered, Liston retaliated with a volley of solid punches that seemed to take everything out of the 34 year-old Nino's legs, as he rocked back on his heels.
Liston then crashed a big left hook on Ninos' jaw.
With a stunned Nino in front of him Sonny fired a solid combination that drove Nino into the ropes where he bounced off into a savage right cross that dropped Nino like a weight.
Valdes, with his right arm dangling over the lower rope strand, was on his knees until the count reached 7 then rolled onto the canvas to be counted out at 0:47 of the round.

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"The Gator"...Craig Bodzianowski....in 1990 he fought for a world title belt...with one foot !!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6wWPEezN2w
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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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91,000 people turned up to watch Jack Dempsey vs Georges Carpentier fight for the heavyweight title in New Jersey in 1921......this is how people many turned up in Times Square, New York to listen to it via radio over loudspeakers...

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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In his old age and brain damaged state after decades of hard fights, he was locked up in an attic and brutally tortured by his family members for years...he barely got anything to eat for days on end, he had to sleep in his own sewage and he was physically beaten.
When the police came to his daughters house and entered that attic in 1998 after a tip-off, they found Jimmy Bivins, former No.1 contender for the world heavyweight title, wrapped in a blanket covered with urine and feces, he weighed only 110lb, he was near death and he had bed sores, broken bones and bone cancer.

..................................

"When Bivins' third wife, Elizabeth, died in 1995, his life forever
changed. He spent less and less time at the gym. He grew weak and
depressed. And finally he quietly moved into the Collinwood, OH home
of his daughter and son-in-law, Josette and Daryl Banks.

As months passed, Bivins' boxing buddies worried. No one knew where
Bivins was.

In April 1998, Cleveland police found him. They had gone to the Banks'
house to investigate a report of child neglect. They found no child,
but in the attic, they found Bivins.

The former heavyweight had withered to 110 pounds, about 75 pounds
below his fighting weight. He was wrapped in a urine-soaked and
feces-caked blanket that covered his face. At first they thought he
was dead.

But when the officers asked Bivins if he was OK, he politely responded
that he wasn't doing so well. Then he asked the officers how they were
doing.

Police initially charged Josette and Daryl Banks with felonious
assault. Daryl Banks later pleaded guilty to a lesser charge and was
sentenced to eight months in jail. Charges against Josette Banks were
dropped after investigators determined that her husband had made all
decisions regarding Bivins' care.

Many 78-year-olds might not have survived, but Bivins proved to be as
tough as his leathery hands.

He spent most of his remaining years in the Shaker Heights home of his
sister, Maria Bivins Baskin. Slowly, he started showing off the road
map of his scars again, carefully unfurling his boxing stories to the
nurses and visitors who tended him.

In 2009, Baskin died, and Bivins moved into McGregor. The Ohio State
Former Boxers and Associates threw birthday parties for him there.

"It's been quite a life," Bivins told The Plain Dealer. "It's been
quite a life."

According to his family, Bivins outlived his two sons, three sisters
and a step-daughter. He left behind a daughter, Josette Banks; four
grandchildren and many great-grandchildren and
great-great-grandchildren. "

from - cleveland.com/obituaries
..............................

Jimmy Bivins, who died in 2012 at the age of 92, was a boxing great of the 1940s and '50s who defeated some of the greatest fighters of his time.
He never fought for a world title, but in 1942 he was given the unprecedented ranking of No 1 contender in the light heavyweight and heavyweight divisions. He met seven fellow Hall of Famers, beating four, and 11 world champions, defeating eight.
Bivins retired from boxing in 1955 after more than 100 professional fights and was inducted in the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1999. He won bouts against numerous world champions, including Archie Moore, Ezzard Charles, Gus Lesnevich, Melio Bettina, Anton Christoforidis and Teddy Yarosz. He also went the distance with Joe Louis and fought Jersey Joe Walcott to a split decision.


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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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The story of Del Fontaine, the 1930's middleweight who mixed with the likes of Mickey Walker and Tommy Farr, who was the only boxer to be hanged for murder in England...

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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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june 1958...unbeaten 13-0 prospect 140lb jay fullmer, 21 year old younger brother of former middleweight champ gene fullmer, stepped up in opposition and took on 147lb veteran joe miceli....meceli promptly stopped young fullmer in the 3rd round, knocking him down 3 times.
5 months later jay's older brother got to meet miceli in a ring.....this happened....don't blink at 1.18 here...you'll hear it if you don't see it...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HuD-s3gfq4
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Re: bits and pieces scrapbook

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"He was the greatest fighter in the world," Holmes said at his postfight news conference. "He's one hell of an athlete, one hell of a man. Even trying to win a fourth title is one hell of an achievement. He had a two-year layoff and then tried to fight the baddest heavyweight in the world."

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