Two of the great voices of british boxing - Reg Gutteridge and Harry Carpenter - narrate a replay of Rocky Graziano v Tony Zale and Zale v Marcel Cerdan...
"It might be show-business with blood...but it's not scripted"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XucAyYX_cag
bits and pieces scrapbook
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
It was time for him to enter the ring in New Orleans for his rematch with Ali, but Leon had disappeared, and neither his camp nor his bodyguard—Mr. T., the future Clubber Lang—could find him. He was finally located in a hotel room, drunk.
As Ali stood in his corner calmly waiting for the fight to begin, Leon reached for his brother and held him in a tight, lingering embrace. He might have been voicing some version of the old spiritual’s lament: Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen. But Michael knew.
Somehow Leon managed to fight on relatively even terms with Ali for five rounds before Ali took command. It wasn’t much of a fight. Ali danced for the first time in years, but he landed mostly one- and two-punch combinations while holding Leon ceaselessly over 15 rounds and winning a lopsided decision. Leon went back out partying and kept the party going for years, though his career quickly became a sideshow. He lost about as often as he won, drank up his paydays in single sittings, and generally lived the life of a wild, not terribly bright dude. Years later, training Leon for one last shot at remaking his career, Emanuel Steward went looking for the fighter and found him in the usual place—a hotel—and in the usual state—drunk, naked, and with a woman. “Coach, it ain’t like it look,” he said.
Leon wound up broke.
Where Leon was madcap, Michael was reserved and enigmatic, only slightly off-kilter and in none of the ways that make headlines. “Michael always seemed so logical compared to Leon,” promoter Bob Arum said. “It seemed to me that Michael had some sense. Leon never had any sense.” Michael turned out to be a better fighter than his older brother, too, largely because of his personal stability and discipline. But in 1983, his life was upended when his common-law wife, the mother of his two-year old daughter, was killed in a car accident weeks before he was to fight Dwight Muhammad Qawi to unify the light heavyweight title. Just as he was preparing to enter the ring, someone brought the little girl into Michael’s dressing room. She promptly asked him where her mother was. Michael almost went to pieces, but he went out and beat Qawi.
Michael had a curious ability to inspire disdain in his opponents, perhaps because of his unusual style, if it was a style. He’d start out orthodox, but in the heat of battle punches would start flying in from all angles. In 1985, when Michael beat Holmes — then 48-0 and one win away from equaling Rocky Marciano’s perfect record — Holmes complained about the decision. The following year, Holmes had a legitimate gripe about their rematch, which Michael also won by decision: most observers thought Holmes deserved the nod. Even in 1987, when Michael knocked out the much bigger Gerry Cooney, whom he feared, he couldn’t seem to convince his opponent. The usually gracious Cooney said that Michael didn’t belong in the same ring with him.
Where Leon endured a sustained descent, Michael’s downfall was mercifully brief: in June 1988, he faced off against Mike Tyson in the bout that would unify (for a few years at least) the heavyweight title. Tyson was at his peak, a terrifying force combining speed and power. Emanuel Steward told how before the Tyson fight, Michael was afraid to leave his dressing room. He entered the Atlantic City ring, as the authors put it, wearing “the look of a rabbit that had just spotted a hunter’s rifle.” Michael’s trainer, Eddie Futch, wanted him to box Tyson, to stay away for four or five rounds—easier said than done in those days. “Take him out in deep water and then we can drown him,” he said. Tyson never gave them a chance, annihilating Spinks in 91 seconds. It was Michael’s only loss as a professional and his last fight.
Michael lives on a generous spread outside Wilmington, Delaware, and mostly keeps a low profile.
(by John Florio and Ouisie Shapiro)
Some recent Leon news (Nov 2014)...
..................................
Boxing legend Leon Spinks is finally walking, talking and smiling again ... after a medical scare stemming from a chicken bone accident.
As recently reported, Spinks was hospitalized -- and was in pretty bad shape -- after swallowing a chicken bone ... which got lodged in his intestine.
Leon's attorney Steve Pacitti said the former champ is still in the hospital -- but he's making tremendous progress.
"He's healing. He's on the road to recovery," Pacitti said "I went to see him the other night and when I walked in he flashed a huge smile. He's in great spirits."
Pacitti says he's unsure when "Neon Leon" will be discharged from the hospital -- but says things are looking good. "He's up and walking ... he's talking."
As Ali stood in his corner calmly waiting for the fight to begin, Leon reached for his brother and held him in a tight, lingering embrace. He might have been voicing some version of the old spiritual’s lament: Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen. But Michael knew.
Somehow Leon managed to fight on relatively even terms with Ali for five rounds before Ali took command. It wasn’t much of a fight. Ali danced for the first time in years, but he landed mostly one- and two-punch combinations while holding Leon ceaselessly over 15 rounds and winning a lopsided decision. Leon went back out partying and kept the party going for years, though his career quickly became a sideshow. He lost about as often as he won, drank up his paydays in single sittings, and generally lived the life of a wild, not terribly bright dude. Years later, training Leon for one last shot at remaking his career, Emanuel Steward went looking for the fighter and found him in the usual place—a hotel—and in the usual state—drunk, naked, and with a woman. “Coach, it ain’t like it look,” he said.
Leon wound up broke.
Where Leon was madcap, Michael was reserved and enigmatic, only slightly off-kilter and in none of the ways that make headlines. “Michael always seemed so logical compared to Leon,” promoter Bob Arum said. “It seemed to me that Michael had some sense. Leon never had any sense.” Michael turned out to be a better fighter than his older brother, too, largely because of his personal stability and discipline. But in 1983, his life was upended when his common-law wife, the mother of his two-year old daughter, was killed in a car accident weeks before he was to fight Dwight Muhammad Qawi to unify the light heavyweight title. Just as he was preparing to enter the ring, someone brought the little girl into Michael’s dressing room. She promptly asked him where her mother was. Michael almost went to pieces, but he went out and beat Qawi.
Michael had a curious ability to inspire disdain in his opponents, perhaps because of his unusual style, if it was a style. He’d start out orthodox, but in the heat of battle punches would start flying in from all angles. In 1985, when Michael beat Holmes — then 48-0 and one win away from equaling Rocky Marciano’s perfect record — Holmes complained about the decision. The following year, Holmes had a legitimate gripe about their rematch, which Michael also won by decision: most observers thought Holmes deserved the nod. Even in 1987, when Michael knocked out the much bigger Gerry Cooney, whom he feared, he couldn’t seem to convince his opponent. The usually gracious Cooney said that Michael didn’t belong in the same ring with him.
Where Leon endured a sustained descent, Michael’s downfall was mercifully brief: in June 1988, he faced off against Mike Tyson in the bout that would unify (for a few years at least) the heavyweight title. Tyson was at his peak, a terrifying force combining speed and power. Emanuel Steward told how before the Tyson fight, Michael was afraid to leave his dressing room. He entered the Atlantic City ring, as the authors put it, wearing “the look of a rabbit that had just spotted a hunter’s rifle.” Michael’s trainer, Eddie Futch, wanted him to box Tyson, to stay away for four or five rounds—easier said than done in those days. “Take him out in deep water and then we can drown him,” he said. Tyson never gave them a chance, annihilating Spinks in 91 seconds. It was Michael’s only loss as a professional and his last fight.
Michael lives on a generous spread outside Wilmington, Delaware, and mostly keeps a low profile.
(by John Florio and Ouisie Shapiro)
Some recent Leon news (Nov 2014)...
..................................
Boxing legend Leon Spinks is finally walking, talking and smiling again ... after a medical scare stemming from a chicken bone accident.
As recently reported, Spinks was hospitalized -- and was in pretty bad shape -- after swallowing a chicken bone ... which got lodged in his intestine.
Leon's attorney Steve Pacitti said the former champ is still in the hospital -- but he's making tremendous progress.
"He's healing. He's on the road to recovery," Pacitti said "I went to see him the other night and when I walked in he flashed a huge smile. He's in great spirits."
Pacitti says he's unsure when "Neon Leon" will be discharged from the hospital -- but says things are looking good. "He's up and walking ... he's talking."
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
June 19, 1936
Max Schmeling gets interviewed by NBC shortly after his victory over Joe Louis in their first fight.
Max Schmeling gets interviewed by NBC shortly after his victory over Joe Louis in their first fight.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Dec 11, 1942
Charley Burley vs. Lloyd Marshall
"Middleweight Lloyd Marshall of Sacramento last night won a decision from favored (10-7 odds) Minneapolis battler Charley Burley in the 10-round main event at Legion Stadium. Marshall floored Burley for "three" in round one and a no-count in round four. The referee gave Marshall six rounds, Burley one and the rest even."
*enhanced photos courtesy of regular CBS contributor JTheron.
.
Charley Burley vs. Lloyd Marshall
"Middleweight Lloyd Marshall of Sacramento last night won a decision from favored (10-7 odds) Minneapolis battler Charley Burley in the 10-round main event at Legion Stadium. Marshall floored Burley for "three" in round one and a no-count in round four. The referee gave Marshall six rounds, Burley one and the rest even."
*enhanced photos courtesy of regular CBS contributor JTheron.
.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
June 25, 1902 - National Sporting Club, Covent Garden, London.
Tom Sharkey vs. Gus Ruhlin
After a slight spar in round one, Ruhlin led with his left but was met with an effective counter to the body from Sharkey. The Irishman clinched and held, and was quickly in trouble with the referee. Ruhlin slipped down and his adversary became too impetuous, and was nearly disqualified through striking his man before he had gained his feet. Sharkey was very busy when the round ended.
When the fight resumed Sharkey was again cautioned for holding and Ruhlin took control of the centre of the ring. Three times he jabbed the sailor on the face and got nothing back. Sharkey then missed a wild uppercut with his left and before he could recover, his opponent drove a left and then a right home to the head just as the bell rang.
In the third, both men boxed for the head with little success although Sharkey landed one left jab to Ruhlin’s face.
Both men were guilty of holding in the fourth but a clean jab to Sharkey’s face left him looking “flushed” and “distressed” and he “appeared pleased” when the round ended. Tom came out to take more punishment, but tried everything to disguise the fact that the fight was slipping away from him. “This is not so easy for you as in New York,” he told Ruhlin. The bravado fooled no-one at ringside.
In the sixth, Sharkey looked “used up”, a nasty cut now worrying him over his eye. “With his usual gameness however he kept going after his big rival in determined style.” Sharkey was running on instinct.
When Ruhlin backed him into a corner in the seventh, Sharkey showed excellent footwork and got out of danger.
In the eighth, he took further punishment and in the ninth, he was forced back onto the ropes and was hit hard with both fists in the ribs.
All the same, in the tenth, Sharkey goaded Ruhlin again: “You could not beat me with a hammer!”
“However, for once,” noted an onlooker sadly, “the sailor boy’s ideas were wrong.”
Sharkey tried to rush Ruhlin but took a hefty punch on the draw, staggered and reeled back his corner.
Sharkey was out on his feet now and when he stood up for the eleventh he clutched Ruhlin around the neck and dragged him around the ring. Eventually they broke and every time Ruhlin struck Sharkey went down. Four times in all. Sharkey got up each time but the last time, he struggled to his feet, he really did not know where he was. As the round ended, Sharkey’s corner went to his aid and tried to get him ready for another push. But Tommy Ryan, one of his seconds, knew the game was up. He walked over to Ruhlin’s corner and gave in on Sharkey’s behalf.
Ruhlin walked across the ring to shake his opponent by the hand and left the ring, some onlookers said, without a scratch on him.
Sharkey remained where he was, tears rolling down his cheeks. “It was somewhat pathetic to see such a game boxer in tears,” decided a reporter with the Sporting Chronicle. A reporter filing for American newspapers said the fight had been “one of the most determined and desperate struggles ever witnessed in the National Sporting Club”.
Some observers said Sharkey, reduced almost to insensibility, then raged against his seconds for their intervention. All agree he was cut, beaten and angry.
Back in Ireland, Tom’s family and the old fans who had followed his fistic adventures closely through the pages of the Dundalk Democrat read what appeared to be an obituary for that career. The sports columnist known as ‘Philistine’ wrote that not even “Herculean” Sharkey could continue to take such “thumpings” as that handed out by Ruhlin. “While it is generally thought that Ruhlin must have come on immensely in his form,” he concluded sadly, “the usual opinion is that the sailor has gone back very much, and now has not much else but his undauntable pluck to recommend him.”
Losing the £2,000 purse and getting beaten by Ruhlin would have been only part of the disappointment; realising he was no longer the fighter he once was would have poured salt on the stinging wounds, wounds laid open by the realisation he would never have the chance to fight for the world title again.
But perhaps on that special night there was a wound that went deeper still. For, there in the crowd, was Tom’s father James Sharkey who had come to watch his son in a big fight for the first time. James Sharkey, now 78, had travelled to London to celebrate his son’s successes on the world stage, but instead he was watching the sun setting on his career.
(by Greg Lewis)
Tom Sharkey vs. Gus Ruhlin
After a slight spar in round one, Ruhlin led with his left but was met with an effective counter to the body from Sharkey. The Irishman clinched and held, and was quickly in trouble with the referee. Ruhlin slipped down and his adversary became too impetuous, and was nearly disqualified through striking his man before he had gained his feet. Sharkey was very busy when the round ended.
When the fight resumed Sharkey was again cautioned for holding and Ruhlin took control of the centre of the ring. Three times he jabbed the sailor on the face and got nothing back. Sharkey then missed a wild uppercut with his left and before he could recover, his opponent drove a left and then a right home to the head just as the bell rang.
In the third, both men boxed for the head with little success although Sharkey landed one left jab to Ruhlin’s face.
Both men were guilty of holding in the fourth but a clean jab to Sharkey’s face left him looking “flushed” and “distressed” and he “appeared pleased” when the round ended. Tom came out to take more punishment, but tried everything to disguise the fact that the fight was slipping away from him. “This is not so easy for you as in New York,” he told Ruhlin. The bravado fooled no-one at ringside.
In the sixth, Sharkey looked “used up”, a nasty cut now worrying him over his eye. “With his usual gameness however he kept going after his big rival in determined style.” Sharkey was running on instinct.
When Ruhlin backed him into a corner in the seventh, Sharkey showed excellent footwork and got out of danger.
In the eighth, he took further punishment and in the ninth, he was forced back onto the ropes and was hit hard with both fists in the ribs.
All the same, in the tenth, Sharkey goaded Ruhlin again: “You could not beat me with a hammer!”
“However, for once,” noted an onlooker sadly, “the sailor boy’s ideas were wrong.”
Sharkey tried to rush Ruhlin but took a hefty punch on the draw, staggered and reeled back his corner.
Sharkey was out on his feet now and when he stood up for the eleventh he clutched Ruhlin around the neck and dragged him around the ring. Eventually they broke and every time Ruhlin struck Sharkey went down. Four times in all. Sharkey got up each time but the last time, he struggled to his feet, he really did not know where he was. As the round ended, Sharkey’s corner went to his aid and tried to get him ready for another push. But Tommy Ryan, one of his seconds, knew the game was up. He walked over to Ruhlin’s corner and gave in on Sharkey’s behalf.
Ruhlin walked across the ring to shake his opponent by the hand and left the ring, some onlookers said, without a scratch on him.
Sharkey remained where he was, tears rolling down his cheeks. “It was somewhat pathetic to see such a game boxer in tears,” decided a reporter with the Sporting Chronicle. A reporter filing for American newspapers said the fight had been “one of the most determined and desperate struggles ever witnessed in the National Sporting Club”.
Some observers said Sharkey, reduced almost to insensibility, then raged against his seconds for their intervention. All agree he was cut, beaten and angry.
Back in Ireland, Tom’s family and the old fans who had followed his fistic adventures closely through the pages of the Dundalk Democrat read what appeared to be an obituary for that career. The sports columnist known as ‘Philistine’ wrote that not even “Herculean” Sharkey could continue to take such “thumpings” as that handed out by Ruhlin. “While it is generally thought that Ruhlin must have come on immensely in his form,” he concluded sadly, “the usual opinion is that the sailor has gone back very much, and now has not much else but his undauntable pluck to recommend him.”
Losing the £2,000 purse and getting beaten by Ruhlin would have been only part of the disappointment; realising he was no longer the fighter he once was would have poured salt on the stinging wounds, wounds laid open by the realisation he would never have the chance to fight for the world title again.
But perhaps on that special night there was a wound that went deeper still. For, there in the crowd, was Tom’s father James Sharkey who had come to watch his son in a big fight for the first time. James Sharkey, now 78, had travelled to London to celebrate his son’s successes on the world stage, but instead he was watching the sun setting on his career.
(by Greg Lewis)
Last edited by doug.ie on 13 Feb 2015, 17:01, edited 1 time in total.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
July 4, 1912 - Vernon, California
Lightweight World Title
Ad Wolgast vs. 'Mexican' Joe Rivers
It was a fierce battle between the two determined men, each doing damage in the brutal give-and-take manner that characterized the ring wars of that blood-and-guts era.
Wolgast, making the fifth defense of the title he won in the 40th round of a savage war of attrition with Battling Nelson two-and-a-half years before, started strong but was fading under the continued assault of the younger challenger. The champ had been more on the receiving end than the giving end through the first 12 frames of the scheduled 20-rounder and was behind in the scoring.
Rivers had the edge going into the fateful 13th round but both battlers showed the effects of the fierce trading. “Both boys, gory from head to belt, their faces puffed and cut …” is how the ringside reporter described Wolgast and Rivers just prior to the double knockout.
There has been some dispute through the years as to whether the blow that felled Rivers landed low, but the newspaper account said clearly that Wolgast struck below the belt.
“Rivers suddenly collapsed,” the ringside reporter wrote, and there were immediate shouts of “foul” among the spectators. “Wolgast previously in the same round and in several other rounds had struck Rivers rather low and when Rivers went down there was a sudden shout of ‘Foul.’”
Rivers went down in a heap but a moment later Wolgast was down also, falling over top of Rivers’ legs. Just as he was being hit severely in the groin area, Rivers had landed a solid right to the champion’s jaw and Wolgast staggered momentarily before falling.
“Wolgast suddenly crouched and sent a terrific left directly over Rivers’s groin,” it said in the next day’s newspapers. “At the same instant Rivers put his right to Wolgast’s jaw and the champion went down and was practically out. Rivers fell, writhing in pain, and referee Welch began to count.”
Welch later explained that he started counting over Rivers because Rivers went down first. Welch ignored the claims of foul, saying emphatically that Wolgast landed a clean blow. As Welch was counting over Rivers, who was conscious but in terrible pain, he actually helped Wolgast up from the canvas.
“Wolgast rolled off Rivers, his features convulsed. Welch immediately began counting and was still counting when he reached down and helped Wolgast to his feet. There were shouts that the bell had ended the round while Welch was counting. By this time the whole arena was in an uproar.”
The bell rang at the count of 4 and the timekeeper, Al Holder of the Pacific Athletic Club, kept shouting at Welch that the gong had sounded. Welch either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him. That only added to the outrage of Rivers’ supporters.
“The claims on behalf of Rivers were not heeded by Welch. He picked Wolgast up off the floor and declared him the winner. His seconds had to carry him from the ring. Rivers was lying on the floor but in a moment arose unaided.”
Rivers was prepared to continue fighting but Welch “waved him back.” Welch’s actions ignited a near riot in the arena. Several people came through the ropes, including Rivers’ manager Joe Levy, and confronted Welch.
The referee told the protesters that his actions were fair and then quickly fled the ring. The protests continued for nearly an hour after the fight ended but to no avail. Later that night, Welch stated that Wolgast had struck a legal blow to the stomach that caused Rivers to fall. Shockingly, Welch also said he didn’t see Rivers land the punch that knocked Wolgast senseless.
In a remarkable contortion of logic, this is how Welch responded: “Wolgast was clearly the winner. Just before Rivers went down, Wolgast had landed a heavy left to the body just below the pit of the stomach and followed it with another right smash almost to the same place. Neither blow was low. I did not see what happened to Wolgast.”
So Welch saw two legal blows when others saw a left thrown by the champion that was clearly low. The ref saw Wolgast strike Rivers but he somehow missed the right that Rivers threw to knock Wolgast out! Welch would have made a grand politician.
Rivers later displayed “a dented aluminum protector” in the dressing room to validate his claim of a foul. Levy, Rivers’ manager, called Welch’s actions “the worst case of robbery in the history of the American ring.”
“Never before have I seen a referee pick up a man and then give him the decision,” Levy added. “The foul blow struck by Wolgast was seen by everyone near the ringside. It was the fourth or fifth foul the champion had landed on Rivers. The sum total of it all is that Wolgast knew he was whipped and resorted to his foul tactics to save himself.”
The final paragraph of the newspaper article implies that even Wolgast’s people recognized the injustice of Welch’s actions, though they weren’t about to say so. “No one connected with Wolgast’s camp would say a word and all of them quickly jumped in an automobile and left the pavilion.”
(by Mike Dunn)
Lightweight World Title
Ad Wolgast vs. 'Mexican' Joe Rivers
It was a fierce battle between the two determined men, each doing damage in the brutal give-and-take manner that characterized the ring wars of that blood-and-guts era.
Wolgast, making the fifth defense of the title he won in the 40th round of a savage war of attrition with Battling Nelson two-and-a-half years before, started strong but was fading under the continued assault of the younger challenger. The champ had been more on the receiving end than the giving end through the first 12 frames of the scheduled 20-rounder and was behind in the scoring.
Rivers had the edge going into the fateful 13th round but both battlers showed the effects of the fierce trading. “Both boys, gory from head to belt, their faces puffed and cut …” is how the ringside reporter described Wolgast and Rivers just prior to the double knockout.
There has been some dispute through the years as to whether the blow that felled Rivers landed low, but the newspaper account said clearly that Wolgast struck below the belt.
“Rivers suddenly collapsed,” the ringside reporter wrote, and there were immediate shouts of “foul” among the spectators. “Wolgast previously in the same round and in several other rounds had struck Rivers rather low and when Rivers went down there was a sudden shout of ‘Foul.’”
Rivers went down in a heap but a moment later Wolgast was down also, falling over top of Rivers’ legs. Just as he was being hit severely in the groin area, Rivers had landed a solid right to the champion’s jaw and Wolgast staggered momentarily before falling.
“Wolgast suddenly crouched and sent a terrific left directly over Rivers’s groin,” it said in the next day’s newspapers. “At the same instant Rivers put his right to Wolgast’s jaw and the champion went down and was practically out. Rivers fell, writhing in pain, and referee Welch began to count.”
Welch later explained that he started counting over Rivers because Rivers went down first. Welch ignored the claims of foul, saying emphatically that Wolgast landed a clean blow. As Welch was counting over Rivers, who was conscious but in terrible pain, he actually helped Wolgast up from the canvas.
“Wolgast rolled off Rivers, his features convulsed. Welch immediately began counting and was still counting when he reached down and helped Wolgast to his feet. There were shouts that the bell had ended the round while Welch was counting. By this time the whole arena was in an uproar.”
The bell rang at the count of 4 and the timekeeper, Al Holder of the Pacific Athletic Club, kept shouting at Welch that the gong had sounded. Welch either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him. That only added to the outrage of Rivers’ supporters.
“The claims on behalf of Rivers were not heeded by Welch. He picked Wolgast up off the floor and declared him the winner. His seconds had to carry him from the ring. Rivers was lying on the floor but in a moment arose unaided.”
Rivers was prepared to continue fighting but Welch “waved him back.” Welch’s actions ignited a near riot in the arena. Several people came through the ropes, including Rivers’ manager Joe Levy, and confronted Welch.
The referee told the protesters that his actions were fair and then quickly fled the ring. The protests continued for nearly an hour after the fight ended but to no avail. Later that night, Welch stated that Wolgast had struck a legal blow to the stomach that caused Rivers to fall. Shockingly, Welch also said he didn’t see Rivers land the punch that knocked Wolgast senseless.
In a remarkable contortion of logic, this is how Welch responded: “Wolgast was clearly the winner. Just before Rivers went down, Wolgast had landed a heavy left to the body just below the pit of the stomach and followed it with another right smash almost to the same place. Neither blow was low. I did not see what happened to Wolgast.”
So Welch saw two legal blows when others saw a left thrown by the champion that was clearly low. The ref saw Wolgast strike Rivers but he somehow missed the right that Rivers threw to knock Wolgast out! Welch would have made a grand politician.
Rivers later displayed “a dented aluminum protector” in the dressing room to validate his claim of a foul. Levy, Rivers’ manager, called Welch’s actions “the worst case of robbery in the history of the American ring.”
“Never before have I seen a referee pick up a man and then give him the decision,” Levy added. “The foul blow struck by Wolgast was seen by everyone near the ringside. It was the fourth or fifth foul the champion had landed on Rivers. The sum total of it all is that Wolgast knew he was whipped and resorted to his foul tactics to save himself.”
The final paragraph of the newspaper article implies that even Wolgast’s people recognized the injustice of Welch’s actions, though they weren’t about to say so. “No one connected with Wolgast’s camp would say a word and all of them quickly jumped in an automobile and left the pavilion.”
(by Mike Dunn)
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
(Modern Classic Era)
March 18, 2006 - Hauts-de-Seine, France.
WBA Super Bantamweight title
After one of the greatest opening rounds a fight has seen things got even better. The second round saw both men continuing to do just as they had in the opening round with Monshipour applying constant pressure behind a high guard trying to get close whilst Sithchatchawal tried countering. This time however it was the Frenchman who appeared to get the better of the action despite both men bludgeoning the other with repeated shots to the head.
Despite being incredibly active in the opening 2 rounds Monshipour's output seemed to increase in round 3 as he threw almost none stop. With the pressure and activity of the champion being extreme the challenger tried slipping shots on the ropes and attacking the a bit more frequently than he had in the early rounds in an attempt to slow Monshipour. At one point the Thai was forced to take a flurry of clean shots that seemed to interest the referee John Coyle who momentarily looked ready to stop it until the challenger fired back.
The fourth round saw Monshipour pushed to canvas early on before Sithchatchawal started using his legs a bit more and actually utilising his reach as he started to jab the champion. Despite Sithchatchawal throwing his jab it couldn't discourage Monshipour who continued to come forward and press the action as we get yet another amazing round of unbridled violence from both men. The crowd tried to get behind their man during the round and give him an extra and whilst he probably won the round he was using up a lot of energy with his all action style.
Round 5 saw both men trading relentlessly through the round. The pressure from Monshipour saw Sithchatchawal mix up what he did a bit more and stand his ground more often than he had in the earlier rounds and in fact he forced the champion on to the back foot for the first time. Had it not been for what was to come later in the fight, this could well have been the round of the round of the year.
The sixth round saw yet more pressure from the champion even though the challenger was mixing up his boxing with his brawling he was still being bossed around the ring an awful lot. It often appeared as if Sitchatchawal could have made the fight easier for himself by jabbing and moving though he only did that for short bursts and instead sat on the ropes and invited Monshipour to throw whilst looking looking to slip and counter.
With Monshipour continuing to pressure Sithchatchawal the Thai intelligently attacked body intently in round 7 with probably the most intelligent work of the fight. He had tried it in an earlier round but this was the first round where really worked the body with some intensity and it appeared to be slowly slowing Monshipour down by the end of the round.
The Thai's body work continued in round 8 as he landed some really nasty looking shots to the midsection of the champion who continued to come forward and unload shot after shot. Around the half way mark of the round Monshipour landed a series of shots but the Thai took them amazingly well suggesting that some of the snap was now being taken from the champions punches.
The action, which by any form of logic should have been slowing notably was still as high octane as ever.
In round 9 it appeared that Sithchatchawal was starting to really take over the bout and he landed a flurry of shots that had Monshipour's head bouncing up and down and looking on the verge of going down. Things then took a 180 flip as the Frenchman roared back with an attack of his own with Sitchatchawal on the ropes and looking in danger himself. By the end of the round both men were starting to look like they were feeling the simply ridiculous pace of the action.
After the none stop action of round 9 it seemed almost certain that the action would slow down in round 10. Instead we got what was quite possibly the round of the fight. Sitchatchawal started to use his feet more than he had in the previous round but it didn't stop Monshipour from bullying him on to the ropes where unload a long flurry. Although a number of Monshipour's shots got through Sithchatchawal did slip a large number before landing a massive counter with about 35 seconds of the round left that rocked Monshipour. With the champion in danger the challenger unloaded a volley of left hands before sending himself to the canvas. It appeared that the slip may have given the champion a few seconds to recover but Sitchatchawal regain his feet almost immediately and went back to work on a still unsteady Monshipour forcing the referee to step in and stop the bout.
Some moments after the bout and when Monshipour regained his senses the two embraced as they seemed to congratulate each other for putting on one of the most memorable bouts in the history of the sport.
(by Asian Boxing News)
*televised on French channel 'Canal+'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVhXl5U2MTY
March 18, 2006 - Hauts-de-Seine, France.
WBA Super Bantamweight title
After one of the greatest opening rounds a fight has seen things got even better. The second round saw both men continuing to do just as they had in the opening round with Monshipour applying constant pressure behind a high guard trying to get close whilst Sithchatchawal tried countering. This time however it was the Frenchman who appeared to get the better of the action despite both men bludgeoning the other with repeated shots to the head.
Despite being incredibly active in the opening 2 rounds Monshipour's output seemed to increase in round 3 as he threw almost none stop. With the pressure and activity of the champion being extreme the challenger tried slipping shots on the ropes and attacking the a bit more frequently than he had in the early rounds in an attempt to slow Monshipour. At one point the Thai was forced to take a flurry of clean shots that seemed to interest the referee John Coyle who momentarily looked ready to stop it until the challenger fired back.
The fourth round saw Monshipour pushed to canvas early on before Sithchatchawal started using his legs a bit more and actually utilising his reach as he started to jab the champion. Despite Sithchatchawal throwing his jab it couldn't discourage Monshipour who continued to come forward and press the action as we get yet another amazing round of unbridled violence from both men. The crowd tried to get behind their man during the round and give him an extra and whilst he probably won the round he was using up a lot of energy with his all action style.
Round 5 saw both men trading relentlessly through the round. The pressure from Monshipour saw Sithchatchawal mix up what he did a bit more and stand his ground more often than he had in the earlier rounds and in fact he forced the champion on to the back foot for the first time. Had it not been for what was to come later in the fight, this could well have been the round of the round of the year.
The sixth round saw yet more pressure from the champion even though the challenger was mixing up his boxing with his brawling he was still being bossed around the ring an awful lot. It often appeared as if Sitchatchawal could have made the fight easier for himself by jabbing and moving though he only did that for short bursts and instead sat on the ropes and invited Monshipour to throw whilst looking looking to slip and counter.
With Monshipour continuing to pressure Sithchatchawal the Thai intelligently attacked body intently in round 7 with probably the most intelligent work of the fight. He had tried it in an earlier round but this was the first round where really worked the body with some intensity and it appeared to be slowly slowing Monshipour down by the end of the round.
The Thai's body work continued in round 8 as he landed some really nasty looking shots to the midsection of the champion who continued to come forward and unload shot after shot. Around the half way mark of the round Monshipour landed a series of shots but the Thai took them amazingly well suggesting that some of the snap was now being taken from the champions punches.
The action, which by any form of logic should have been slowing notably was still as high octane as ever.
In round 9 it appeared that Sithchatchawal was starting to really take over the bout and he landed a flurry of shots that had Monshipour's head bouncing up and down and looking on the verge of going down. Things then took a 180 flip as the Frenchman roared back with an attack of his own with Sitchatchawal on the ropes and looking in danger himself. By the end of the round both men were starting to look like they were feeling the simply ridiculous pace of the action.
After the none stop action of round 9 it seemed almost certain that the action would slow down in round 10. Instead we got what was quite possibly the round of the fight. Sitchatchawal started to use his feet more than he had in the previous round but it didn't stop Monshipour from bullying him on to the ropes where unload a long flurry. Although a number of Monshipour's shots got through Sithchatchawal did slip a large number before landing a massive counter with about 35 seconds of the round left that rocked Monshipour. With the champion in danger the challenger unloaded a volley of left hands before sending himself to the canvas. It appeared that the slip may have given the champion a few seconds to recover but Sitchatchawal regain his feet almost immediately and went back to work on a still unsteady Monshipour forcing the referee to step in and stop the bout.
Some moments after the bout and when Monshipour regained his senses the two embraced as they seemed to congratulate each other for putting on one of the most memorable bouts in the history of the sport.
(by Asian Boxing News)
*televised on French channel 'Canal+'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVhXl5U2MTY
Last edited by doug.ie on 14 Nov 2014, 07:59, edited 1 time in total.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
(Part of a Fiction Friday thread on the CBS page)
Original Air Date - March 9, 1971
Part of the 'Mod Squad' TV Series.
49 year old Sugar Ray Robinson stars as retired boxer Candy Joe Collins with Rocky Graziano as his now trainer, and former opponent, Doc Russo...as he prepares to fight Indian Red Lopez who stars as himself.
Features some great footage, albeit staged, of Robinson vs Lopez.
Official summary reads...
"A middle-aged legendary prizefighter tries for a comeback match, mainly to please his troubled son, whom he thinks wants him to prove he's not a has-been. But the son may have other reasons: he is in debt to gamblers who want him to give them inside information on his dad's odds."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZsFQbhdUDE
Original Air Date - March 9, 1971
Part of the 'Mod Squad' TV Series.
49 year old Sugar Ray Robinson stars as retired boxer Candy Joe Collins with Rocky Graziano as his now trainer, and former opponent, Doc Russo...as he prepares to fight Indian Red Lopez who stars as himself.
Features some great footage, albeit staged, of Robinson vs Lopez.
Official summary reads...
"A middle-aged legendary prizefighter tries for a comeback match, mainly to please his troubled son, whom he thinks wants him to prove he's not a has-been. But the son may have other reasons: he is in debt to gamblers who want him to give them inside information on his dad's odds."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZsFQbhdUDE
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
1972
"What Joe Louis warned me would happen, happened" - Ike Williams
"What Joe Louis warned me would happen, happened" - Ike Williams
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
"A bout with Dempsey is the ambition of my life" - Harry Greb
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Former World Heavyweight Champion Rocky Marciano and former WBC World Flyweight Champion Manny Pacquiao had the same reach (67").*
*should be noted both have listings for 68" too, more common in Marcianos case.
*should be noted both have listings for 68" too, more common in Marcianos case.
Last edited by doug.ie on 13 Feb 2015, 17:11, edited 1 time in total.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
April 1899
JOE GANS PUT TO SLEEP
Elbows McFadden, the local pugilist, fought his way to fame and fortune at the Broadway A. C. last night. In the twenty-third round he knocked out the clever Baltimore pugilist, Joe Gans, with a right hook on the jaw. At the start McFadden appeared to be outclassed, but by persistent attack, wonderful strength and splendid generalship he gradually forged ahead and won. Gans had been regarded as a possible lightweight champion, but McFadden is now the man to pit against the leaders in his class, Kid Lavigne, Spike Sullivan or Frank Erne.
There was plenty of betting on the result of the star bout. The crowd, which numbered close to 4,000 persons, was the largest that has attended the fights at this club since it was opened. Gans was a 2 to 1 favorite, his manager, Al Herford, and a big delegation of colored sports from Baltimore placing in the neighborhood of $3,000 at these odds. The men weighed in at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, McFadden scaling at 127 pounds and Gans getting just inside the lightweight limit, 133 pounds. When McFadden got into the ring he was greeted with wild cheering, which was an indication that his friends were on hand in force. His seconds were Billy Roche, Tommy Shortell, H. Bahr and Chip Morrison. Gans was taken care of by Al Herford, Jack McCue and Jerry Marshall. The articles of agreement called for twenty-five rounds at 133 pounds, Marquis of Queensberry rules. John White was the referee.
The men had not been sparring a minute when Gans's superior knowledge of science was apparent. He was cool, calculating, shifty, and blocked with consummate ease the few swings that McFadden aimed at his head. Gans appeared to have no trouble in landing a long left, but he did not cut it loose much, preferring to find out what McFadden had up his sleeve, so to speak. Gans began to do some real punching in the second round. He shook McFadden up with a couple of swings on the neck, and altogether outclassed the local man in such a way that the crowd laughed in derision. McFadden concluded that his only chance was to mix it. So when the third round began he rushed in with heavy swings. Gans was equal to the emergency, and at in-fighting surprised the talent with his quick blows, all of which were well directed. McFadden did not land a solid blow in the round, although he tried his best to do so.
Gans did some superb blocking in the fourth round, and also beat a tattoo on McFadden's face. Improvement was shown by McFadden in the fifth round. He began to use his right and got it several times to the neck. Gans, however, nearly scored a knockdown with a hook on the jaw. McFadden continued to improve in the sixth round and landed several hard drives on the head and body. He was Gans's master in physical strength, and his punches appeared to contain more steam. McFadden forced the fighting in the seventh round, and with a hot left hook on the jaw he made the Baltimorean take the defensive until the bell. McFadden had the eighth round, Gans receiving some terrific smashes on the body and jaw. The latter was warned for holding in the clinches. The crowd cheered in a deafening manner when the bell rang, and kept it up during the minute's rest.
The ninth round was McFadden's, too. He did most of the work, and did not allow Gans to rest a moment. Both did pretty blocking, but McFadden's blows were the harder. The tenth round was full of execution. McFadden walked right into his man in spite of left jabs and body blows, and sent back as much as he received. The crowd cheered McFadden when he was in his corner. During a rally in the eleventh round, both men swinging, Gans received a clip on the jaw that brought a clinch. The latter seemed to be a trifle tired when he took his corner. That he was not fighting up to his past form seemed to be the opinion around the ringside, while McFadden's showing was an agreeable surprise.
The twelfth round was uneventful, except that McFadden more than held his own. Gans's nose was bleeding when he got half way through the thirteenth round. His blows lacked force and he appeared to be tiring. McFadden was as strong as a bull. The fourteenth round showed that Gans still had stamina, for he did the leading and landing, McFadden apparently resting up a bit from his previous efforts. McFadden came back in the fifteenth round with his old attack, and ended the round by driving Gans to a corner and to a clinch. It was an even thing in the sixteenth round, McFadden's blocking being up to anything that Gans accomplished in the earlier rounds. McFadden forged to the front again in the seventeenth round. He bored in without let-up and had his man clinching and holding at the gong. It was the same thing over again in the eighteenth. Gans failed to land a square punch because of McFadden's defence, while the latter hammered away successfully at the stomach and neck.
Gans received three savage lefts in the mouth in quick succession during the nineteenth round, but he retaliated with a heavy swing on the jaw that took McFadden by surprise. Again in the twentieth round McFadden did the bulk of the work, and made Gans's nose bleed afresh. At this stage it looked like a defeat for Gans, and the latter's followers were blue. Gans was fought practically to a standstill in the twenty-first round. He was tired and could scarcely keep his hands up. McFadden kept at him incessantly, but did not hustle enough when he received the right opportunities. McFadden cut loose in the twenty-second, and had Gans in evident trouble throughout. The crowd was in an uproar when the bell rang.
When the twenty-third round opened McFadden lost no time in mixing things. Gans threw in a few weak counters, and then received a stomach punch that threw him forward. Quick as a flash McFadden brought up a terrific right hook. It caught Gans flush on the point of the jaw. The Baltimore fighter tottered a moment, and then fell flat upon his face, the blood gushing from his mouth. There was no need of counting him out for he was helpless, and had to be lifted to his chair. The referee declared McFadden the winner amid an unusual demonstration. Hats and canes were thrown in the air. Men hugged one another in their ecstasy and others yelled wildly for the money they had won. McFadden was embraced by his friends, and was cheered all the way to his dressing room. When Gans was able to leave the ring he was applauded generously, too. It was one of the best fights ever seen in this vicinity. The time of the last round was 1 minute and 48 seconds.
(The New York Sun)
..........................
Al Herford Tells Why Joe Lost to McFadden..
Al Herford, manager for Joe Gans, the negro boxer from Baltimore, who was defeated by McFadden, still believes that his man is one of the best fighters in the world. Neither he nor Gans is discouraged over the result of the last fight. In regard to Gans, Herford says "My boy is the prince of his class. We lost. It was a fair fight, and I have no kick to make, at least on that score. We stood to win $2800. The winner's share of the purse was $1600 and by Joe's defeat I lost $1200 in bets. But few bets were made. The sports looked upon it as a selling-plater against a stake horse. Out of it all I have been taught a lesson. Never again will I bet 2 to 1 against any man--not even were Fitzsimmons matched to meet Joe Goddard. A chance blow can win any fight. Right here I want to say that the report given out that McFadden weighed 127 pounds is an untruth. He tipped the scales at 133. Both men weighed in at the same weight. Joe thought that he had a walkover and did not do the proper training. Besides, he was a very sick man.
"Believing himself unbeatable, he had come to grow careless. He did not believe he needed to train. As it was he put in only five days' work for the contest, and was far from being in shape. Although suffering from stomach trouble, he hid the truth from me. He thought the worst that he could get would be a draw, as he afterward said he wanted to save the forfeit money. His mistake he realized later. The fight itself tells the story of his condition. Though a long distance fighter, his constitution being broken down, he was unable to go the limit. Why, in the first six rounds he made a sucker of McFadden, knocking him about from side to side. But his blows lacked steam. He was weak. At the close of the tenth round he said that he felt himself getting weaker and weaker, and that his stomach was giving him great pain.
"At the end of the twentieth round he could hardly stand up owing to the pain, and he again said that he was very weak and doubted if he could stand on his feet. 'He's too strong for me in my weakened condition,' is the way Joe put it when he realized that he had no strength. He desired to keep away from his man, but was too weak to move about. Yes, he made an uphill struggle. Defeated, I admire him all the more. Why, after the battle he vomited for fully fifteen minutes. He was in a very bad way. He takes his defeat very nicely, and his only regret is that he was caught napping. No, he is not down hearted. He believes himself capable of defeating any man in his class, and will yet come out on top. Again I reiterate that he will be back. Money will work wonders, and Joe is the boy who will give battle with any of them, and I want to give it out here that Baltimore has the champion lightweight. Any one differing need but place his money and I will cover it." Herford also announces that Gans has cancelled all of his engagements. He was matched to fight Martin Judge at Baltimore on April 25, Billy Moore at Syracuse on May 1, and Otto Sieloff at Buffalo on May 8.
(The Philadelphia Inquirer)
................................................
*Should be noted that in the October rematch of that same year Gans easily defeated McFadden over 25 rounds in Brooklyn. In September 1900 Gans won a six round newspaper decision . In October 1900 they fought to a ten-round draw (in which McFadden was down once). In February 1902 Gans was a clear winner in a newspaper decision over six, and in June of that same year Gans scored a three-round stoppage over McFadden when McFadden's corner pulled him out having been down twice in the second and four times in the third - this would be the final in their series of bouts.
.
JOE GANS PUT TO SLEEP
Elbows McFadden, the local pugilist, fought his way to fame and fortune at the Broadway A. C. last night. In the twenty-third round he knocked out the clever Baltimore pugilist, Joe Gans, with a right hook on the jaw. At the start McFadden appeared to be outclassed, but by persistent attack, wonderful strength and splendid generalship he gradually forged ahead and won. Gans had been regarded as a possible lightweight champion, but McFadden is now the man to pit against the leaders in his class, Kid Lavigne, Spike Sullivan or Frank Erne.
There was plenty of betting on the result of the star bout. The crowd, which numbered close to 4,000 persons, was the largest that has attended the fights at this club since it was opened. Gans was a 2 to 1 favorite, his manager, Al Herford, and a big delegation of colored sports from Baltimore placing in the neighborhood of $3,000 at these odds. The men weighed in at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, McFadden scaling at 127 pounds and Gans getting just inside the lightweight limit, 133 pounds. When McFadden got into the ring he was greeted with wild cheering, which was an indication that his friends were on hand in force. His seconds were Billy Roche, Tommy Shortell, H. Bahr and Chip Morrison. Gans was taken care of by Al Herford, Jack McCue and Jerry Marshall. The articles of agreement called for twenty-five rounds at 133 pounds, Marquis of Queensberry rules. John White was the referee.
The men had not been sparring a minute when Gans's superior knowledge of science was apparent. He was cool, calculating, shifty, and blocked with consummate ease the few swings that McFadden aimed at his head. Gans appeared to have no trouble in landing a long left, but he did not cut it loose much, preferring to find out what McFadden had up his sleeve, so to speak. Gans began to do some real punching in the second round. He shook McFadden up with a couple of swings on the neck, and altogether outclassed the local man in such a way that the crowd laughed in derision. McFadden concluded that his only chance was to mix it. So when the third round began he rushed in with heavy swings. Gans was equal to the emergency, and at in-fighting surprised the talent with his quick blows, all of which were well directed. McFadden did not land a solid blow in the round, although he tried his best to do so.
Gans did some superb blocking in the fourth round, and also beat a tattoo on McFadden's face. Improvement was shown by McFadden in the fifth round. He began to use his right and got it several times to the neck. Gans, however, nearly scored a knockdown with a hook on the jaw. McFadden continued to improve in the sixth round and landed several hard drives on the head and body. He was Gans's master in physical strength, and his punches appeared to contain more steam. McFadden forced the fighting in the seventh round, and with a hot left hook on the jaw he made the Baltimorean take the defensive until the bell. McFadden had the eighth round, Gans receiving some terrific smashes on the body and jaw. The latter was warned for holding in the clinches. The crowd cheered in a deafening manner when the bell rang, and kept it up during the minute's rest.
The ninth round was McFadden's, too. He did most of the work, and did not allow Gans to rest a moment. Both did pretty blocking, but McFadden's blows were the harder. The tenth round was full of execution. McFadden walked right into his man in spite of left jabs and body blows, and sent back as much as he received. The crowd cheered McFadden when he was in his corner. During a rally in the eleventh round, both men swinging, Gans received a clip on the jaw that brought a clinch. The latter seemed to be a trifle tired when he took his corner. That he was not fighting up to his past form seemed to be the opinion around the ringside, while McFadden's showing was an agreeable surprise.
The twelfth round was uneventful, except that McFadden more than held his own. Gans's nose was bleeding when he got half way through the thirteenth round. His blows lacked force and he appeared to be tiring. McFadden was as strong as a bull. The fourteenth round showed that Gans still had stamina, for he did the leading and landing, McFadden apparently resting up a bit from his previous efforts. McFadden came back in the fifteenth round with his old attack, and ended the round by driving Gans to a corner and to a clinch. It was an even thing in the sixteenth round, McFadden's blocking being up to anything that Gans accomplished in the earlier rounds. McFadden forged to the front again in the seventeenth round. He bored in without let-up and had his man clinching and holding at the gong. It was the same thing over again in the eighteenth. Gans failed to land a square punch because of McFadden's defence, while the latter hammered away successfully at the stomach and neck.
Gans received three savage lefts in the mouth in quick succession during the nineteenth round, but he retaliated with a heavy swing on the jaw that took McFadden by surprise. Again in the twentieth round McFadden did the bulk of the work, and made Gans's nose bleed afresh. At this stage it looked like a defeat for Gans, and the latter's followers were blue. Gans was fought practically to a standstill in the twenty-first round. He was tired and could scarcely keep his hands up. McFadden kept at him incessantly, but did not hustle enough when he received the right opportunities. McFadden cut loose in the twenty-second, and had Gans in evident trouble throughout. The crowd was in an uproar when the bell rang.
When the twenty-third round opened McFadden lost no time in mixing things. Gans threw in a few weak counters, and then received a stomach punch that threw him forward. Quick as a flash McFadden brought up a terrific right hook. It caught Gans flush on the point of the jaw. The Baltimore fighter tottered a moment, and then fell flat upon his face, the blood gushing from his mouth. There was no need of counting him out for he was helpless, and had to be lifted to his chair. The referee declared McFadden the winner amid an unusual demonstration. Hats and canes were thrown in the air. Men hugged one another in their ecstasy and others yelled wildly for the money they had won. McFadden was embraced by his friends, and was cheered all the way to his dressing room. When Gans was able to leave the ring he was applauded generously, too. It was one of the best fights ever seen in this vicinity. The time of the last round was 1 minute and 48 seconds.
(The New York Sun)
..........................
Al Herford Tells Why Joe Lost to McFadden..
Al Herford, manager for Joe Gans, the negro boxer from Baltimore, who was defeated by McFadden, still believes that his man is one of the best fighters in the world. Neither he nor Gans is discouraged over the result of the last fight. In regard to Gans, Herford says "My boy is the prince of his class. We lost. It was a fair fight, and I have no kick to make, at least on that score. We stood to win $2800. The winner's share of the purse was $1600 and by Joe's defeat I lost $1200 in bets. But few bets were made. The sports looked upon it as a selling-plater against a stake horse. Out of it all I have been taught a lesson. Never again will I bet 2 to 1 against any man--not even were Fitzsimmons matched to meet Joe Goddard. A chance blow can win any fight. Right here I want to say that the report given out that McFadden weighed 127 pounds is an untruth. He tipped the scales at 133. Both men weighed in at the same weight. Joe thought that he had a walkover and did not do the proper training. Besides, he was a very sick man.
"Believing himself unbeatable, he had come to grow careless. He did not believe he needed to train. As it was he put in only five days' work for the contest, and was far from being in shape. Although suffering from stomach trouble, he hid the truth from me. He thought the worst that he could get would be a draw, as he afterward said he wanted to save the forfeit money. His mistake he realized later. The fight itself tells the story of his condition. Though a long distance fighter, his constitution being broken down, he was unable to go the limit. Why, in the first six rounds he made a sucker of McFadden, knocking him about from side to side. But his blows lacked steam. He was weak. At the close of the tenth round he said that he felt himself getting weaker and weaker, and that his stomach was giving him great pain.
"At the end of the twentieth round he could hardly stand up owing to the pain, and he again said that he was very weak and doubted if he could stand on his feet. 'He's too strong for me in my weakened condition,' is the way Joe put it when he realized that he had no strength. He desired to keep away from his man, but was too weak to move about. Yes, he made an uphill struggle. Defeated, I admire him all the more. Why, after the battle he vomited for fully fifteen minutes. He was in a very bad way. He takes his defeat very nicely, and his only regret is that he was caught napping. No, he is not down hearted. He believes himself capable of defeating any man in his class, and will yet come out on top. Again I reiterate that he will be back. Money will work wonders, and Joe is the boy who will give battle with any of them, and I want to give it out here that Baltimore has the champion lightweight. Any one differing need but place his money and I will cover it." Herford also announces that Gans has cancelled all of his engagements. He was matched to fight Martin Judge at Baltimore on April 25, Billy Moore at Syracuse on May 1, and Otto Sieloff at Buffalo on May 8.
(The Philadelphia Inquirer)
................................................
*Should be noted that in the October rematch of that same year Gans easily defeated McFadden over 25 rounds in Brooklyn. In September 1900 Gans won a six round newspaper decision . In October 1900 they fought to a ten-round draw (in which McFadden was down once). In February 1902 Gans was a clear winner in a newspaper decision over six, and in June of that same year Gans scored a three-round stoppage over McFadden when McFadden's corner pulled him out having been down twice in the second and four times in the third - this would be the final in their series of bouts.
.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Nel Tarleton won the british featherweight title 3 times...and the lonsdale belt outright twice...a great career summary for any boxer.....especially one who was born with only one lung !!
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Second part of "Harry Greb speaks.." from 1922...
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Barbara Buttrick made front page news over 60 years ago when she became a boxer.
Ignoring critics who described her as "degrading", "monstrous" and an "insult to womanhood", she went on to become the first official female world champion.
Nicknamed the "Mighty Atom of the Ring", she scored 12 knockouts and was only beaten once in her 15-year professional career.
Barbara travelled the world, training first in London and later at the 5th Street gym in Miami, Florida, where she crossed paths with a young Muhammad Ali in the 50s.
"I was close to my retirement and he was just a young kid coming up to the gym. We'd pass on the stairs," she says.
"He had a lot of confidence and a lot to say. I also remember Don King. He used to promote some of my later US shows. I saw Don again back in June when we were inducted into the Hall of Fame. Muhammad didn't come, he isn't so well."
Her place in boxing history may now be guaranteed but Barbara had to fight her way to the top when, aged 15, she was inspired to take up the sport after reading an article by Polly Burns about female boxers.
"I was probably before my time," says Barbara. "My mum used to look at our family tree to find where it came from."
After spending her teens "sparring with boys" in the back garden, Barbara endured vicious insults when she moved from her sleepy town of Cottingham, Yorkshire, to pursue her dream in London.
Aged just 18, with the reluctant permission of her parents, Barbara accepted an invite from boxing trainer Leonard Smith - who later become her husband - to train at the Mayfair Gym and join Mickey Wood's stunt agency as a "tough girl".
She moved to the YMCA in Bloomsbury, worked as a typist by day and trained with Len for three hours every night. Critics reacted with horror when they heard about her.
In 1948 boxing writer Peter Wilson wrote in the Sunday Pictorial: "What a monstrous, degrading, disgusting idea! Would anyone like to go out with a girl sporting two lovely purple-black eyes?" Then, in 1949 before the Battling Buttrick's first public spar with a male boxer at the Kilburn Empire Theatre, there was an outcry. The secretary of the Variety Artists Federation, Mr Lee, urged other performers to boycott her shows, calling her "degrading to womanhood".
Bill McGowran, sports editor of the Evening News, wrote: "She certainly boxes well. But - so what?" Barbara says: "We were on the front pages for a week! Mickey would pick up a paper and say, 'We made the front page again.' I said, 'But look what they're saying.' He replied, 'Don't read it, measure it'."
Barbara eventually appeared on the Kilburn stage, but just used a punchbag to show off her boxing technique.
It wasn't long before she got her chance in the ring, as she toured the country on the carnival circuit challenging women to fight. "I liked it," she says. "You worked hard but it was better than a nine-to-five job."
As Barbara built up a reputation for being unbeatable, the shows pulled in thousands of fans.
But the disapproval continued. The mayor of Dewsbury, West Yorks, even had her banned from fighting in the town.
"My attitude was why should women be stopped when boys can go ahead and do whatever they feel like?" she says.
"I always sparred with boys and didn't hold back. I had a very hard left jab."
Her ex Len even alleges that she broke his nose in training. Barbara says: "He had his nose operated on in later years, and claimed it was me. Maybe it was!" And when a Fleet Street photographer at her training sessions suggested women were better off inside sweaters than in a ring, Barbara knocked him to the floor.
She was eventually lured to America in 1952 by the promise of a glittering career. "Boxing was taking off for women in the America," she says. "But the real reason I stayed so long is the weather!" Although beaten only once in her career - by Joan Hagen who was 33lbs heavier - Barbara had her moment of glory when, aged 26, she beat Phyllis Kugler in the first official woman's world boxing championship.
"That was the most memorable fight of my career," she says.
In 1960 she retired when four months pregnant with the first of her two daughters, having fought 32 matches and given over 1000 exhibitions. Since then she has devoted herself to women's careers, setting up the Women's International Boxing Federation which she runs from her home in Miami. She says: "There's still progress to be made in women's boxing but the difference from when I started out is huge.
I hope future stars in the women's sport will be as popular as the men."
(By Victoria Murphy)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTvwtinq5qg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXPGnqqHxmQ
Ignoring critics who described her as "degrading", "monstrous" and an "insult to womanhood", she went on to become the first official female world champion.
Nicknamed the "Mighty Atom of the Ring", she scored 12 knockouts and was only beaten once in her 15-year professional career.
Barbara travelled the world, training first in London and later at the 5th Street gym in Miami, Florida, where she crossed paths with a young Muhammad Ali in the 50s.
"I was close to my retirement and he was just a young kid coming up to the gym. We'd pass on the stairs," she says.
"He had a lot of confidence and a lot to say. I also remember Don King. He used to promote some of my later US shows. I saw Don again back in June when we were inducted into the Hall of Fame. Muhammad didn't come, he isn't so well."
Her place in boxing history may now be guaranteed but Barbara had to fight her way to the top when, aged 15, she was inspired to take up the sport after reading an article by Polly Burns about female boxers.
"I was probably before my time," says Barbara. "My mum used to look at our family tree to find where it came from."
After spending her teens "sparring with boys" in the back garden, Barbara endured vicious insults when she moved from her sleepy town of Cottingham, Yorkshire, to pursue her dream in London.
Aged just 18, with the reluctant permission of her parents, Barbara accepted an invite from boxing trainer Leonard Smith - who later become her husband - to train at the Mayfair Gym and join Mickey Wood's stunt agency as a "tough girl".
She moved to the YMCA in Bloomsbury, worked as a typist by day and trained with Len for three hours every night. Critics reacted with horror when they heard about her.
In 1948 boxing writer Peter Wilson wrote in the Sunday Pictorial: "What a monstrous, degrading, disgusting idea! Would anyone like to go out with a girl sporting two lovely purple-black eyes?" Then, in 1949 before the Battling Buttrick's first public spar with a male boxer at the Kilburn Empire Theatre, there was an outcry. The secretary of the Variety Artists Federation, Mr Lee, urged other performers to boycott her shows, calling her "degrading to womanhood".
Bill McGowran, sports editor of the Evening News, wrote: "She certainly boxes well. But - so what?" Barbara says: "We were on the front pages for a week! Mickey would pick up a paper and say, 'We made the front page again.' I said, 'But look what they're saying.' He replied, 'Don't read it, measure it'."
Barbara eventually appeared on the Kilburn stage, but just used a punchbag to show off her boxing technique.
It wasn't long before she got her chance in the ring, as she toured the country on the carnival circuit challenging women to fight. "I liked it," she says. "You worked hard but it was better than a nine-to-five job."
As Barbara built up a reputation for being unbeatable, the shows pulled in thousands of fans.
But the disapproval continued. The mayor of Dewsbury, West Yorks, even had her banned from fighting in the town.
"My attitude was why should women be stopped when boys can go ahead and do whatever they feel like?" she says.
"I always sparred with boys and didn't hold back. I had a very hard left jab."
Her ex Len even alleges that she broke his nose in training. Barbara says: "He had his nose operated on in later years, and claimed it was me. Maybe it was!" And when a Fleet Street photographer at her training sessions suggested women were better off inside sweaters than in a ring, Barbara knocked him to the floor.
She was eventually lured to America in 1952 by the promise of a glittering career. "Boxing was taking off for women in the America," she says. "But the real reason I stayed so long is the weather!" Although beaten only once in her career - by Joan Hagen who was 33lbs heavier - Barbara had her moment of glory when, aged 26, she beat Phyllis Kugler in the first official woman's world boxing championship.
"That was the most memorable fight of my career," she says.
In 1960 she retired when four months pregnant with the first of her two daughters, having fought 32 matches and given over 1000 exhibitions. Since then she has devoted herself to women's careers, setting up the Women's International Boxing Federation which she runs from her home in Miami. She says: "There's still progress to be made in women's boxing but the difference from when I started out is huge.
I hope future stars in the women's sport will be as popular as the men."
(By Victoria Murphy)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTvwtinq5qg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXPGnqqHxmQ
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Thanks for posting all this great stuff 
-
handsofstone
- Cruiserweight
- Posts: 23084
- Joined: 11 Jan 2011, 17:28
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
x100Tomasino wrote:Thanks for posting all this great stuff
Superb stuff really appeciated from everyone im sure doug.ie
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
just passing time while i should be working :)......thanks.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
July 13, 1927 - Ebbet's Field, Brooklyn, New York.
Although he accomplished what only one man before him had done - over a stretch of 17 years, Paolino Uzcudun, the Spanish woodchopper, still is as far away from the heavyweight throne as he was before he knocked out Harry Wills in the fourth round of a 15-round fight last night at Ebbet's Field.
After three rounds of lethargic sparring, Paolino brought a right hand blow on a direct line from his knees to the giant negro's chin, and Wills rolled to the canvas. He was up at the count of nine only to run into a volley of lefts and rights that put him under the lower rope, where he lay supported on his elbows while referee Lou Magnolia counted him out.
The Spaniard's victory availed him nothing in so far as a title chance this year is concerned. He was dropped from Tex Rickard's heavyweight elimination tournament after Jack Dempsey had refused to engage in more than one preliminary bout leading to a fight with Gene Tunney.
While Paolino's victory was not wholly unexpected, the manner in which it was attained confused as array of ringside critics, who thought that the Spaniard's right hand wallop was the least effective among those in his repertoire.
(Prescott Evening Courier)
*Although the article states that Uzcudun was only the second man to knock out Wills (after Sam Langford), his (Wills) record also shows an early KO loss to George 'Kid' Cotton (Wills TKO loss to Battling Jim Johnson being due to a retirement).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBOUmkoI44w
Although he accomplished what only one man before him had done - over a stretch of 17 years, Paolino Uzcudun, the Spanish woodchopper, still is as far away from the heavyweight throne as he was before he knocked out Harry Wills in the fourth round of a 15-round fight last night at Ebbet's Field.
After three rounds of lethargic sparring, Paolino brought a right hand blow on a direct line from his knees to the giant negro's chin, and Wills rolled to the canvas. He was up at the count of nine only to run into a volley of lefts and rights that put him under the lower rope, where he lay supported on his elbows while referee Lou Magnolia counted him out.
The Spaniard's victory availed him nothing in so far as a title chance this year is concerned. He was dropped from Tex Rickard's heavyweight elimination tournament after Jack Dempsey had refused to engage in more than one preliminary bout leading to a fight with Gene Tunney.
While Paolino's victory was not wholly unexpected, the manner in which it was attained confused as array of ringside critics, who thought that the Spaniard's right hand wallop was the least effective among those in his repertoire.
(Prescott Evening Courier)
*Although the article states that Uzcudun was only the second man to knock out Wills (after Sam Langford), his (Wills) record also shows an early KO loss to George 'Kid' Cotton (Wills TKO loss to Battling Jim Johnson being due to a retirement).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBOUmkoI44w
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
May 1908
'Slugfest in Philadelphia'
.
'Slugfest in Philadelphia'
.
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Watching Rocky II with Muhammad Ali
BY ROGER EBERT / July 31, 1979
................
Right here in the middle of Muhammad Ali's mansion, right here in the middle of the mahogany and the stained glass and the rare Turkish rug, there was this large insect buzzing near my ear. I gave it a slap and missed. Then it made a swipe at my other ear. I batted at the air but nothing seemed to be there, and Muhammad Ali was smiling to himself and studying the curve of his staircase.
I turned toward the door and the insect attacked again, a close pass this time, almost in my hair, and I whirled and Ali was grinning wickedly.
He explained how it was done. "You gotta make sure your hand is good and dry and then you rub your thumb hard across the side of your index finger, like this, see, making a vibrating noise, and hold it behind somebody's ear, sneak up on 'em, and they think it's killer bees."
He grinned like a kid "I catch people all the time," he said. "It never fails."
A long black limousine from NBC was gliding up the driveway, and Ali was ready to go to work. This was going to be Diana Ross' first night as guest host of the "Tonight" show, and Ali was going to be her first guest. And then, after the taping, Ali had a treat for his wife, Veronica, and their little girl, Hana. They were going to the movies. What movie were they going to see? Rocky II, of course. A special screening had been arranged, and Ali was going to play movie critic.
"Rocky Part Two," Ali intoned, "starring Apollo Creed as Muhammad Ali."
The taping went smoothly, with Ali working Diana Ross like a good fight. He kidded her about her age, leaned over to read her notes, got in a plug for his official retirement benefit, and made her promise to sing at the party.
And then the heavyweight champion of the world was back in another limousine, a blue and beige Rolls-Royce this time, heading back home to a private enclave off Wilshire Boulevard. It was a strange and wonderful trip, because during the entire length of the seven-mile journey, not one person who saw Ali in the car failed to recognize him, to wave at him, to shout something. Ali says he is the most famous person in the world. He may be right.
He gave his fame, to be sure, a certain assistance. He sat in the front seat, next to the driver, and watched as drivers in the next lane or pedestrians on the sidewalk did their double takes. First, they'd see the Rolls, a massive, classic model. Then they'd look in the back seat. no famous faces there. Idly, they'd glance in the front seat, and Ali would already be regarding them, and then their faces would break into grins of astonishment, and Ali would clench his fist and give them a victory sign. This was not a drive from Burbank to Wilshire Boulevard - it was a hero's parade.
Back home, waiting for Veronica to come downstairs so they could go to the movies, Ali sat close to a television set in his study. His longtime administrative assistant, Jeremiah Shabazz, talked about crowds and recognition. "The biggest single crowd was in South Korea. I think the whole country turned out. Manila was almost a riot; they almost tore the airport down. All over Russia, they knew him But Korea was amazing."
Ali ignored the conversation. He is a man who chooses the times when he will acknowledge the presence of others, and the times when he will not. There are moments when he seems so intensely self-absorbed, even in a roomful of people, that he seems lonely and withdrawn. He was like that now, until his daughter, Hana, walked in and demanded to be taken into his lap, and then he spoke to her softly.
"What's Veronica say?" he asked Cleve Walker, an old Chicago friend who was visiting.
"She's coming right down," Walker said.
"Then let's go."
The five cars pulled out of the mansion's driveway like a presidential procession. Ali drove his own Mercedes, second in line, following an aide who was leading the way to United Artists' headquarters out on the old MGM lot. All five cars had their emergency flashers blinking the whole way: It was the day's second parade.
Rumors of Ali's visit had preceded him to the studio and a crowd of young kids was waiting for him in the parking lot. He shook their hands, told them to hang in there, touched them on the shoulders, and left them standing as if blessed by royalty.
And then he was inside a private screening room and settling down to watch the most popular movie of the summer - the sequel to the movie that won the Academy Award as Best Picture two years ago, and made Sylvester Stallone into a star as Rocky Balboa, the Philadelphia club fighter who took on the black heavyweight champion of the world. Ali, who said he'd really liked the original Rocky, settled down in the back row, Veronica and Hana next to him, and if he was reflecting that Rocky itself might very likely not have been made if he had not restored the fading glamour of boxing, he did not say so.
He watched the opening scenes of Rocky II in silence, not speaking until the scene in which Apollo Creed, the heavyweight champ, delivers a televised challenge designed to taunt Rocky back into the ring.
"That's me, all right," Ali said "Apollo sounds like me. Insulting the opponent in the press, to get him psyched out. That's me exactly."
Back home at Rocky's new house, the doorbell rang.
"You know who that's gotta be," Ali said. "That's gotta be his trainer." And, yes, Rocky opened the door and his old trainer, Mickey, was standing there on the doorstep.
"That's how Angelo Dundee used to get me," Ali remembered. "A good trainer knows a good fighter can't stand to have people talk about him bad on television."
Mickey was giving Rocky advice: "We got to get you fighting with your other hand. Use your right, save your left, protect that bad eye . . ."
"It just maybe could be," Ali said, "that if you started on a kid at seventeen or eighteen, by the time he was twenty-two you could change the hand he leads with. But not overnight it can't be done."
Now Mickey was drawing on his ancient store of boxing lore, making Rocky chase chickens to improve his footwork. "That's one that goes back to the days of Jack Johnson and Joe Louis, chasing chickens," Ali said. "you don't see chickens at a training camp anymore except on the table."
Mickey was leaning fiercely at Rocky, who was pounding a bag "Jab! Jab! Jab!" he was shouting.
"With a great fighter," said Ali, "you don't have to tell him that. He goes at the bag like a robot. I never had anybody tell me to jab. If you don't want to jab, what are you doing being a fighter?"
Now there was a wider shot showing Mickey's gym, with Rocky in the foreground and the background occupied by a dozen fighters working out, jumping rope, sparring.
"What you see here, if you know how to look for it" Ali explained, "is the difference between real fighters and actors. A real boxer can see Stallone's not a boxer. He's not professional, doesn't have the moves. It's good acting, but it's not boxing. Look in the background. Look at that guy in the red trunks back there. You can see he's a real fighter."
Now Rocky was in the ring with a sparring partner. "The other guy's a real fighter," Ali said. "Stallone doesn't have the moves It's perfect acting, though. The regular average layman couldn't see what I see. And the way they're painting the trainer is all wrong. Look at him there, screaming, Do this! and Do that! I never had anyone telling me what to do. I did it. Shouting at the fighter like that makes him look like an animal, like a horse to be trained."
Is there any way, I asked, that the character of Rocky is inspired by you?
"No way. Rocky doesn't act nothing like me. Apollo Creed, the way he dances, the way he jabs, the way he talks . . . That's me." On the screen, a moment of crisis had appeared in Rocky Balboa's life. After giving birth to Rocky Jr., his wife had slipped into a coma. Rocky had just left the bedside and was praying in the hospital chapel.
"Now he don't feel like fighting because his wife is sick," Ali said. "That's absolutely the truth. The same thing happened to me when I was in training camp during one of my divorces. You can't keep your mind on fighting when you're thinking about a woman. You can't keep your concentration. You feel like sleeping all the time. But now at this point, I'm gonna make a prediction. I haven't seen the movie, but I predict she's gonna get well, and then Rocky's gonna beat the hell out of Apollo Creed."
Back in the hospital room, Rocky's wife opened her eyes. Ali nodded. "My first prediction is proven right," he said.
Rocky's wife turned to him and said, "There's one thing I want you to do for me. Win."
"Yeah!" said Ali. "Beat that ******'s ass!"
Little Rocky Jr. was brought into the room by a nurse. The baby had a head of black hair that would have qualified him for the Beatles. Ali laughed with delight. "They got a baby to win the Academy Award. Look at that Italian hair! Rocky couldn't deny the baby in court in real life!"
Now there was a montage, as Rocky Balboa threw himself into his training regime with renewed fury. "That's right," said Ali. "He's happy now. He's got his woman back I'm gonna further predict that in the big fight, they're gonna make it look at first like Rocky's losing, and his eye will be cut and it will look the worst before he wins, and that after the movie the men will be crying louder than the women."
Rocky was weight-lifting: "The worst thing a boxer can do. It tightens the muscles. A fighter never lifts weights. But it looks good in the movie."
In an inspirational scene, Rocky was running through the streets of his native Philadelphia, trailed by a crowd of cheering children who followed him all the way up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Rocky gave his trademark victory salute, repeated from the most famous moment in the original Rocky.
"Now that's one thing that some people will say is artificial, all the crowds running after him, but that's real," Ali said. "I had the same kinda crowds follow me in New York."
And now it was time for Rocky II's climactic fight scene - longer, more violent and more grueling than the bravado ending of the original Rocky. In his dressing room, Apollo Creed, played by Carl Weathers, was jabbing at his image in a mirror.
"Weathers told me he got the dancing and the jabbing, the whole style of Apollo Creed, from watching my movies," Ali said. "The way he's fighting in the mirror, those aren't real fighting moves, but for the movie they look good. And the motivation here is right. Apollo, he won the first fight, but some people said Rocky should have won. If you lose a big fight, it will worry you all of your life. It will plague you, until you get your revenge. As the champion, almost beat by a club fighter, he has to have his revenge."
Could a club fighter in real life stay in the ring with the heavyweight champion?
"No. What he might be able to do, he might be able to come in and absorb an amount of punishment and wait and get a lucky shot and knock him out . . . with the odds being very high against that. But to stay in the ring, to stay with the champion, he couldn't do that."
And now, on the screen, Rocky Balboa had fallen to his knees and was praying in the locker room, and Muhammad Ali, his daughter Hana asleep in his arms, was completely absorbed in the scene.
As Rocky got back to his feet, Ali broke the spell. "The most scary moment in a fighter's life is right now. The moment before the fight, in your dressing room, all the training is behind you, all the advice in the world don't mean a thing, in a moment you'll be in the ring, everyone is on the line, and you . . . are . . . scared."
Apollo Creed and Rocky Balboa came dancing down the aisles of the Philadelphia Spectrum, and shots showed Rocky's wife at home, nervously watching television, and Apollo's wife at ringside, nervously watching her husband.
"Even Apollo's wife favors my wife Veronica," Ali observed "They're both light-skinned, real pretty girls . . ."
Apollo was taunting Rocky. "You're going down! I'll destroy you! I am the master of disaster."
"Those first two lines, those are my lines," Ali mused. "That 'master of disaster' . . . I like that I wish I'd thought of that."
And now the fight was under way, Rocky and Apollo trading punishment, Apollo keeping up a barrage of taunts, and dancing out of Rocky's way. Between rounds, in the fighters' corners, their trainers were desperately pumping out instructions.
"My trainer don't tell me nothing between rounds," Ali said. "I don't allow him to. I fight the fight. All I want to know is did I win the round. It's too late for advice."
How long do you predict the fight will last?
"Hard to say. Foreman they stopped in eight, Liston they stopped in eight . . . the movie might take something from that I can't predict. But look at that. There's Apollo using my rope-a-dope defense."
In the tenth round, Ali nodded: "Here's where the great fighters get their second wind, where determination steps in." On the screen, Rocky was taking a terrible beating, and his eyes, as Ali had predicted, were badly swollen.
"In a real fight," Ali said, "they would never allow the eyes to be closed that much and let the fight keep going. They would stop it."
But in Rocky II they didn't stop it, and the fight went the full distance, Ali observing that in real life no fighter could absorb as much punishment as both Apollo and Rocky had, and then the theater was filled with the Rocky theme and the lights were on and Ali's entourage was applauding the movie.
Muhammad Ali got up carefully, so as not to wake Hana, and handed his daughter to Veronica.
"A great movie," he said. "A big hit. It has all the ingredients. Love, violence, emotion. The excitement never dulled."
What do you think about the way the fight turned out?
"For the black man to come out superior," Ali said, "would be against America's teachings. I have been so great in boxing they had to create an image like Rocky, a white image on the screen, to counteract my image in the ring. America has to have its white images, no matter where it gets them. Jesus, Wonder Woman, Tarzan and Rocky."
BY ROGER EBERT / July 31, 1979
................
Right here in the middle of Muhammad Ali's mansion, right here in the middle of the mahogany and the stained glass and the rare Turkish rug, there was this large insect buzzing near my ear. I gave it a slap and missed. Then it made a swipe at my other ear. I batted at the air but nothing seemed to be there, and Muhammad Ali was smiling to himself and studying the curve of his staircase.
I turned toward the door and the insect attacked again, a close pass this time, almost in my hair, and I whirled and Ali was grinning wickedly.
He explained how it was done. "You gotta make sure your hand is good and dry and then you rub your thumb hard across the side of your index finger, like this, see, making a vibrating noise, and hold it behind somebody's ear, sneak up on 'em, and they think it's killer bees."
He grinned like a kid "I catch people all the time," he said. "It never fails."
A long black limousine from NBC was gliding up the driveway, and Ali was ready to go to work. This was going to be Diana Ross' first night as guest host of the "Tonight" show, and Ali was going to be her first guest. And then, after the taping, Ali had a treat for his wife, Veronica, and their little girl, Hana. They were going to the movies. What movie were they going to see? Rocky II, of course. A special screening had been arranged, and Ali was going to play movie critic.
"Rocky Part Two," Ali intoned, "starring Apollo Creed as Muhammad Ali."
The taping went smoothly, with Ali working Diana Ross like a good fight. He kidded her about her age, leaned over to read her notes, got in a plug for his official retirement benefit, and made her promise to sing at the party.
And then the heavyweight champion of the world was back in another limousine, a blue and beige Rolls-Royce this time, heading back home to a private enclave off Wilshire Boulevard. It was a strange and wonderful trip, because during the entire length of the seven-mile journey, not one person who saw Ali in the car failed to recognize him, to wave at him, to shout something. Ali says he is the most famous person in the world. He may be right.
He gave his fame, to be sure, a certain assistance. He sat in the front seat, next to the driver, and watched as drivers in the next lane or pedestrians on the sidewalk did their double takes. First, they'd see the Rolls, a massive, classic model. Then they'd look in the back seat. no famous faces there. Idly, they'd glance in the front seat, and Ali would already be regarding them, and then their faces would break into grins of astonishment, and Ali would clench his fist and give them a victory sign. This was not a drive from Burbank to Wilshire Boulevard - it was a hero's parade.
Back home, waiting for Veronica to come downstairs so they could go to the movies, Ali sat close to a television set in his study. His longtime administrative assistant, Jeremiah Shabazz, talked about crowds and recognition. "The biggest single crowd was in South Korea. I think the whole country turned out. Manila was almost a riot; they almost tore the airport down. All over Russia, they knew him But Korea was amazing."
Ali ignored the conversation. He is a man who chooses the times when he will acknowledge the presence of others, and the times when he will not. There are moments when he seems so intensely self-absorbed, even in a roomful of people, that he seems lonely and withdrawn. He was like that now, until his daughter, Hana, walked in and demanded to be taken into his lap, and then he spoke to her softly.
"What's Veronica say?" he asked Cleve Walker, an old Chicago friend who was visiting.
"She's coming right down," Walker said.
"Then let's go."
The five cars pulled out of the mansion's driveway like a presidential procession. Ali drove his own Mercedes, second in line, following an aide who was leading the way to United Artists' headquarters out on the old MGM lot. All five cars had their emergency flashers blinking the whole way: It was the day's second parade.
Rumors of Ali's visit had preceded him to the studio and a crowd of young kids was waiting for him in the parking lot. He shook their hands, told them to hang in there, touched them on the shoulders, and left them standing as if blessed by royalty.
And then he was inside a private screening room and settling down to watch the most popular movie of the summer - the sequel to the movie that won the Academy Award as Best Picture two years ago, and made Sylvester Stallone into a star as Rocky Balboa, the Philadelphia club fighter who took on the black heavyweight champion of the world. Ali, who said he'd really liked the original Rocky, settled down in the back row, Veronica and Hana next to him, and if he was reflecting that Rocky itself might very likely not have been made if he had not restored the fading glamour of boxing, he did not say so.
He watched the opening scenes of Rocky II in silence, not speaking until the scene in which Apollo Creed, the heavyweight champ, delivers a televised challenge designed to taunt Rocky back into the ring.
"That's me, all right," Ali said "Apollo sounds like me. Insulting the opponent in the press, to get him psyched out. That's me exactly."
Back home at Rocky's new house, the doorbell rang.
"You know who that's gotta be," Ali said. "That's gotta be his trainer." And, yes, Rocky opened the door and his old trainer, Mickey, was standing there on the doorstep.
"That's how Angelo Dundee used to get me," Ali remembered. "A good trainer knows a good fighter can't stand to have people talk about him bad on television."
Mickey was giving Rocky advice: "We got to get you fighting with your other hand. Use your right, save your left, protect that bad eye . . ."
"It just maybe could be," Ali said, "that if you started on a kid at seventeen or eighteen, by the time he was twenty-two you could change the hand he leads with. But not overnight it can't be done."
Now Mickey was drawing on his ancient store of boxing lore, making Rocky chase chickens to improve his footwork. "That's one that goes back to the days of Jack Johnson and Joe Louis, chasing chickens," Ali said. "you don't see chickens at a training camp anymore except on the table."
Mickey was leaning fiercely at Rocky, who was pounding a bag "Jab! Jab! Jab!" he was shouting.
"With a great fighter," said Ali, "you don't have to tell him that. He goes at the bag like a robot. I never had anybody tell me to jab. If you don't want to jab, what are you doing being a fighter?"
Now there was a wider shot showing Mickey's gym, with Rocky in the foreground and the background occupied by a dozen fighters working out, jumping rope, sparring.
"What you see here, if you know how to look for it" Ali explained, "is the difference between real fighters and actors. A real boxer can see Stallone's not a boxer. He's not professional, doesn't have the moves. It's good acting, but it's not boxing. Look in the background. Look at that guy in the red trunks back there. You can see he's a real fighter."
Now Rocky was in the ring with a sparring partner. "The other guy's a real fighter," Ali said. "Stallone doesn't have the moves It's perfect acting, though. The regular average layman couldn't see what I see. And the way they're painting the trainer is all wrong. Look at him there, screaming, Do this! and Do that! I never had anyone telling me what to do. I did it. Shouting at the fighter like that makes him look like an animal, like a horse to be trained."
Is there any way, I asked, that the character of Rocky is inspired by you?
"No way. Rocky doesn't act nothing like me. Apollo Creed, the way he dances, the way he jabs, the way he talks . . . That's me." On the screen, a moment of crisis had appeared in Rocky Balboa's life. After giving birth to Rocky Jr., his wife had slipped into a coma. Rocky had just left the bedside and was praying in the hospital chapel.
"Now he don't feel like fighting because his wife is sick," Ali said. "That's absolutely the truth. The same thing happened to me when I was in training camp during one of my divorces. You can't keep your mind on fighting when you're thinking about a woman. You can't keep your concentration. You feel like sleeping all the time. But now at this point, I'm gonna make a prediction. I haven't seen the movie, but I predict she's gonna get well, and then Rocky's gonna beat the hell out of Apollo Creed."
Back in the hospital room, Rocky's wife opened her eyes. Ali nodded. "My first prediction is proven right," he said.
Rocky's wife turned to him and said, "There's one thing I want you to do for me. Win."
"Yeah!" said Ali. "Beat that ******'s ass!"
Little Rocky Jr. was brought into the room by a nurse. The baby had a head of black hair that would have qualified him for the Beatles. Ali laughed with delight. "They got a baby to win the Academy Award. Look at that Italian hair! Rocky couldn't deny the baby in court in real life!"
Now there was a montage, as Rocky Balboa threw himself into his training regime with renewed fury. "That's right," said Ali. "He's happy now. He's got his woman back I'm gonna further predict that in the big fight, they're gonna make it look at first like Rocky's losing, and his eye will be cut and it will look the worst before he wins, and that after the movie the men will be crying louder than the women."
Rocky was weight-lifting: "The worst thing a boxer can do. It tightens the muscles. A fighter never lifts weights. But it looks good in the movie."
In an inspirational scene, Rocky was running through the streets of his native Philadelphia, trailed by a crowd of cheering children who followed him all the way up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Rocky gave his trademark victory salute, repeated from the most famous moment in the original Rocky.
"Now that's one thing that some people will say is artificial, all the crowds running after him, but that's real," Ali said. "I had the same kinda crowds follow me in New York."
And now it was time for Rocky II's climactic fight scene - longer, more violent and more grueling than the bravado ending of the original Rocky. In his dressing room, Apollo Creed, played by Carl Weathers, was jabbing at his image in a mirror.
"Weathers told me he got the dancing and the jabbing, the whole style of Apollo Creed, from watching my movies," Ali said. "The way he's fighting in the mirror, those aren't real fighting moves, but for the movie they look good. And the motivation here is right. Apollo, he won the first fight, but some people said Rocky should have won. If you lose a big fight, it will worry you all of your life. It will plague you, until you get your revenge. As the champion, almost beat by a club fighter, he has to have his revenge."
Could a club fighter in real life stay in the ring with the heavyweight champion?
"No. What he might be able to do, he might be able to come in and absorb an amount of punishment and wait and get a lucky shot and knock him out . . . with the odds being very high against that. But to stay in the ring, to stay with the champion, he couldn't do that."
And now, on the screen, Rocky Balboa had fallen to his knees and was praying in the locker room, and Muhammad Ali, his daughter Hana asleep in his arms, was completely absorbed in the scene.
As Rocky got back to his feet, Ali broke the spell. "The most scary moment in a fighter's life is right now. The moment before the fight, in your dressing room, all the training is behind you, all the advice in the world don't mean a thing, in a moment you'll be in the ring, everyone is on the line, and you . . . are . . . scared."
Apollo Creed and Rocky Balboa came dancing down the aisles of the Philadelphia Spectrum, and shots showed Rocky's wife at home, nervously watching television, and Apollo's wife at ringside, nervously watching her husband.
"Even Apollo's wife favors my wife Veronica," Ali observed "They're both light-skinned, real pretty girls . . ."
Apollo was taunting Rocky. "You're going down! I'll destroy you! I am the master of disaster."
"Those first two lines, those are my lines," Ali mused. "That 'master of disaster' . . . I like that I wish I'd thought of that."
And now the fight was under way, Rocky and Apollo trading punishment, Apollo keeping up a barrage of taunts, and dancing out of Rocky's way. Between rounds, in the fighters' corners, their trainers were desperately pumping out instructions.
"My trainer don't tell me nothing between rounds," Ali said. "I don't allow him to. I fight the fight. All I want to know is did I win the round. It's too late for advice."
How long do you predict the fight will last?
"Hard to say. Foreman they stopped in eight, Liston they stopped in eight . . . the movie might take something from that I can't predict. But look at that. There's Apollo using my rope-a-dope defense."
In the tenth round, Ali nodded: "Here's where the great fighters get their second wind, where determination steps in." On the screen, Rocky was taking a terrible beating, and his eyes, as Ali had predicted, were badly swollen.
"In a real fight," Ali said, "they would never allow the eyes to be closed that much and let the fight keep going. They would stop it."
But in Rocky II they didn't stop it, and the fight went the full distance, Ali observing that in real life no fighter could absorb as much punishment as both Apollo and Rocky had, and then the theater was filled with the Rocky theme and the lights were on and Ali's entourage was applauding the movie.
Muhammad Ali got up carefully, so as not to wake Hana, and handed his daughter to Veronica.
"A great movie," he said. "A big hit. It has all the ingredients. Love, violence, emotion. The excitement never dulled."
What do you think about the way the fight turned out?
"For the black man to come out superior," Ali said, "would be against America's teachings. I have been so great in boxing they had to create an image like Rocky, a white image on the screen, to counteract my image in the ring. America has to have its white images, no matter where it gets them. Jesus, Wonder Woman, Tarzan and Rocky."
Re: bits and pieces scrapbook
Just one of the reasons he was called 'Elbows' - Elbows were his specialist subject...
Last edited by doug.ie on 13 Feb 2015, 17:07, edited 1 time in total.
