BoxRec

more great stuff

I found the piece in "the sweet science" about 2 minutes after I posted that I was getting old! read it - again - and I think it, the Marciano/Walcott 1, is one of joe liebling's greatest in a sea of great boxing prose.

keep 'em coming, doug

On January 9th 1900 Terry McGovern, the former world bantamweight champion, became the first boxer to win a world title in the 20th century when he beat defending featherweight champion George Dixon, sending him to the canvas eight times. McGovern was also the last boxer to win a world title in the 19th century when he won the bantamweight title when he knocked out Pedlar Palmer in one round - the first queensberry rules bout to end inside one round.

From The Scottish Daily Record - Mar 8, 2001


ROBERTO DURAN will finally break the longest silence in sport later this month by paying tribute to Ken Buchanan, the man whose WBA and WBC lightweight titles he took back in 1972.

Promoters Ian McLeod and Michael Antoniou are holding a testimonial dinner for Scotland's greatest boxer at Glasgow's Moat House Hotel on March 22 and Duran is hoping to bury the hatchet on one of the fight game's most enduring feuds by praising him.

Duran ended Buchanan's reign as world champion in controversial circumstances at Madison Square Garden, felling the Scot with a low blow in the 13th round.

Many believed the challenger should have been disqualified but instead he took the belts.

An all-time great following memorable bouts with Sugar Ray Leonard, Thomas Hearns, Marvin Hagler and Davey Moore, Duran has always maintained that Buchanan was his toughest opponent - which is presumably why there was never a rematch.

Buchanan was so desperate for a second crack at him that he once flew to New York on spec in an attempt to goad him into another fight. But his efforts were in vain.

Incredibly (and sadly), he is still active at 49 but following negotiations with his lawyer, Antonio Gonzalez, McLeod is confident the great man will send his best wishes by way of a video message on the night.

It looks like being one of the highlights of a star-studded evening and it all came about due to a chance meeting with the Panamanian legend on McLeod's honeymoon.

The former Commonwealth super-featherweight champion was in Las Vegas with new wife Fiona when he bumped into Duran.

McLeod said: "I'd gone along to a Press conference for Erik Morales' fight with Guty Espadas and I'd been chatting with Wayne McCullough and Emanuel Steward when there was this huge commotion.

"Duran had turned up and brought the place to a standstill. Everyone wanted to speak to him or get an autograph.

"When I managed to introduce myself to him through his lawyer, I let him know I was from Scotland and Ken's name cropped up.

"Duran said he didn't think Ken liked him and I replied that if he'd punched me where he punched him then I wouldn't like him much either."

18th Oct 1948. Jersey City, New Jersey.

Tippy Larkin (L) watches as Dr. Harry Cohen, physician for New Jersey State Athletic Commission, puts the stethoscope to Charley Fusari during the physical examination for their bout here on Oct 21st. The bout's winner has been assured a crack at welterweight champion Ray Robinson's title.

April 1, 1958 - World Featherweight Title - Wrigley Field, Los Angeles, California, USA

Hogan 'Kid' Bassey (Champion) vs. Ricardo 'Pajarito' Moreno (Challenger)

As soon as the bell rang a wild brawl ensued, instigated by the Kid’s bull rush. Moreno quickly rattled, hurt and cut Bassey, but the slick Nigerian who possessed superb foot movement survived and quickly changed tactics, fighting more circumspectly. Soon he was controlling matters and began battering Pajarito seemingly at will with long and well-leveraged rights; one potshot after another. Finally a hard right hand caught the dazed Moreno flush on the chin and that was that. Though Moreno struggled in vain to get up, referee Tommy Hart finished the count with two seconds left in the round but he could have counted to 100. Bassey’s first title defense had been a violent one that featured non-stop aggression against a pressing and always dangerous opponent.

(Ted Sares)

doug.ie wrote:

I thought this was johnny saxton on first glance

Upon seeing Tommy Loughran at Mass, Da excitedly asked at the breakfast table, “Did you notice who received Holy Communion today? Tommy Loughran, Philadelphia’s best fighter, that’s who,” answering his own question before anyone else.

“Paddy, do you know why he is the best fighter?”

“No, Da.”

“Because he thinks, that’s why. He uses his head,” Da said. “When he broke his right hand, years ago, he taught himself how to use his left hand. Now he can lead with either one. Furthermore at the end of every round, he maneuvers the other fighter into his corner. That way, Tommy just sits down while the other fellow has to walk across the ring. Eight or nine rounds of walk can tire a fighter out. That’s how Tommy beat Tony Marullo last Monday night. The exhausted Marullo could hardly stand on his feet at the end of the fight. I know because some fellows who saw the fight told me,” Da said.

“He’s a model Catholic as well, did you see how proud he looked receiving Holy Communion? Whenever he intends to receive Holy Communion the next morning, Loughran refuses to take a drink of water following a fight. That’s a fact. He said so himself. Let that be a lesson on being a good Catholic.”

“Why does he go to our church?’...Does he live around here?”

“No, he owns in a big house in Chestnut Hill where the rich people live. When he comes to our church, he always receives Holy Communion from Father Smith. Do you know why? Because Father Smith’s the son of Tommy’s trainer, that’s why! I predict that some day, Tommy will be the heavyweight champion of the world.”

Da proved to be partially right in his prediction. In October, Tommy Loughran defeated Mike McTigue to win the light heavyweight championship. However, there were some who disputed his claim to the title. Shortly after being crowned champion, Loughran came home to Philadelphia to defend his title against Pat McCarthy, a fight that Da attended. “Loughran’s a true champion,” Da proclaimed when he got home that night. “He always led with a series of left jabs, then followed up with a combination of lefts and rights. McCarthy had no skin on his face by the end of the eighth round because he got hit that often.”

Da, along with the entire sporting world, eagerly awaited the return match between Dempsey and Tunney. The challenger, Jack Dempsey, planned to enter the ring in the best shape of his life after preparing for his opponent’s style by training with Philadelphia’s Tommy Loughran. Originally a Tunney supporter, Dempsey‘s association with Loughran gave Da second thoughts. He didn’t know who to root for, so he planned to settle in his easy chair and listen to the bout on the radio along with sixty million fight fans. “I intend to hear the fight Thursday night, and I don’t want to come home to a broken radio,” Da said, commanding his flock to take care of his prized possession.

Successful in defending his Light Heavyweight title against Mickey Walker and Jim Braddock, Tommy faced a formidable opponent as he attempted to move up in class. Loughran believed that his sparring experience with Jack Dempsey prepared him for heavyweight opponents, but he soon learned otherwise. His first bout against Jack Sharkey ended in a knockout. Tommy was the one knocked out. He kept his heavier opponent off balance with left jabs; however, Sharkey hit Loughran with a solid right hand in the fourth round which stunned the Light Heavy Weight Champ. The referee declared Tommy out on his feet and awarded the bout to Sharkey.

“He’ll be back, just you wait,” Da proclaimed whenever anyone asked him about Loughran’s ability to fight the “big boys.”

Fighting once again became the dominant conversation in the O’Donnell household. This time it concerned a professional bout between Philadelphia’s Tommy Loughran and the Italian giant Primo Carnera. Da opposed the fight, not because of the size of the Italian, but because it was rumored that he had mob connections, and Da thought the fight might have been fixed.

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

I shuddered as I sat at ringside and watched the Alpine Mountain Man lumber across the ring to touch gloves with the polished boxer, Philadelphia-born Tommy Loughran. “There is no possible way the 184-pound Irishman could get near the Italian’s chin,” I said to myself and to anyone near me who would listen. Loughran fought a valiant fight, but he couldn’t lay a glove on any vital part of the 6 foot 5 inch, 270-pound monstrosity.

To add to the insult, early in the fight Carnera stepped on Tommy’s foot and broke one of his toes, whether accidentally or on purpose.

Tommy plastered his hair with a foul smelling additive to prevent the Italian giant from leaning on him during the clinches. He pushed his head under Carnera’s nose every time the Italian tried to wrestle rather than fight. I salute you, Tommy, for lasting the full 15 rounds. I never thought you would make it past the first.


(Patrick O'Donnell / James Francis Smith)

This is a photograph of the $30,000 gold coin purse that was offered to the winner of the Joe Gans vs. Battling Nelson fight on September 3, 1906.

Leo Lomski and Tiger Flowers - 1927

A devastating right flattened Green. He almost made it to his feet before the count was completed, but most spectators and Referee Ruby Goldstein said that he didn't quite make it, and he was counted out. Harold then lost his temper and a free-for-all broke out. Green apologized afterward, but still received a year's suspension. Attendance was 18,592 paid, a sellout.
"Behind on points, Rocky nailed Green flush on the chin with his murderous right in 1:49 of the fatal 3rd. Harold fell face forward to the canvas, then rolled over flat on his back. As referee Ruby Goldstein completed the count of ten, Green jumped to his feet, yelling that Rocky had hit him illegally on the break, and tore after Rocky in a neutral corner. Goldstein threw his arms around Green and led him to his corner. There, Green suddenly eluded Goldstein and tore across the ring to Rocky's corner. Irving Cohen and Whitey Bimstein, Rocky's co-manager and trainer, saw him coming and threw themselves before Rocky. By this time Sol Gold, Freddie Brown and Charles Duke, Green's corner, had followed Green across the ring and joined in the shoving and pushing. Graziano threw his robe away and the two struggled to reach each other. But it was not until the police entered the ring that order was restored." - Associated Press

(Sept 28, 1945 - Madison Square Garden, New York - 3rd fight in a trilogy between both boxers)

1929.

Paulino Uzcudun with his arms extended to show the muscles developed chopping down trees. This picture was made at his training camp at Hoosick Falls, New York, where he is making ready to meet Max Schmeling in the Milk Fund battle at the Yankee Stadium, New York City, June 27th.

Ezzard wrote:Doug

Can't thank you enough for what you've given the forum.

What a gift.

Best wishes

Ezzard

second that

REFEREE ALMOST ACCUSED OF MURDER

On 5 October 1982, Belfast’s Hugh Russell and Davy Larmour clashed at the Ulster Hall for the Irish bantamweight title. The fight, which was also a final eliminator for the British title, was a truly bloody affair that went the full fifteen rounds. Russell was awarded the narrowest of decisions by referee Mike Jacobs in a ring that resembled a butchers apron. On returning to London, Jacobs left his white shirt in to be dry-cleaned. However, when he returned to collect it he was handed an official letter from the girl in the shop asking him to report to the local police station. Once there, Jacobs was taken into a room and asked by CID how his shirt had come to be covered in so much blood? A simple explanation that he had refereed a boxing match in Belfast duly resolved the matter with the police. It seemed that the owner of the dry-cleaners had become suspicious when he was handed in the shirt and phoned police as he was convinced that Jacobs had been involved in a bloody murder.

(Eamonn Magill)

hey - this is the greatest thread of 'em all - as I have said before - but how can I get those god damned little "image" buttons to work. I click on them and ...nothing. I'm missing some wonderful pictures here, I just know it! someone help!! help!!

bump

misterpunch wrote:hey - this is the greatest thread of 'em all - as I have said before - but how can I get those god damned little "image" buttons to work. I click on them and ...nothing. I'm missing some wonderful pictures here, I just know it! someone help!! help!!

what image buttons ?.....i was hoping all images were showing ok

couldn't get any pics for a few days, just a little "image" square - they're all fine now - you must have the magic touch. thanks.

(just asking...have you got any articles/pics on Al Tribuani)

Shortly after Floyd Patterson had defeated Eddie Machen in 12 rounds of boxing that would never frighten Cassius Clay back into training, Floyd received two visitors in his Stockholm dressing room. One, wearing a neat, gray Ivy League suit, was Ingemar Johannson. "You too nice, Floyd," said Ingemar. The other, wearing a jaunty bow tie, was Nat Fleischer, the publisher of Ring magazine, who announced triumphantly that Floyd Patterson had moved up, that he was now the No. 2 challenger for the heavyweight championship.

Both were right, of course. Floyd is a nice man, too nice to be a professional fistfighter, but despite this he is also unquestionably superior—just as he has always been—to the five men over whom he had just leapfrogged from his old ranking down in seventh place: Doug Jones, Zora Folley, Cleveland Williams, Ernest Terrell and Machen. It was a little difficult to understand, however, why Floyd was so cheered by Fleischer's statement. For one thing, still above him stand Clay and Sonny Liston, and exactly why Floyd should ever want to fight either of them—he has plenty of money and his health—is a question that not even Patterson can adequately explain. Beyond that, his sudden rise in Ring's form chart had no more relation to reality than his precipitous drop from the top to his place behind Jones, Folley, etc. immediately after his back-to-back and back-on-the-canvas first-round knockouts at the hands of Liston. He was no worse a fighter after his losses to Liston than he had been before, and he is no better a fighter now after his wins over Machen and Sante Amonti, the inept Italian heavyweight he defeated on points in Sweden last January. He is still fast and strong and game—but he still is easy to hit. He still is acutely aware of helplessness, in himself or in others, including those he hurts in the ring. He still lacks the egocentric concentration of the true athlete, the single-minded aggressiveness of the great fighter, the consuming need to conquer or destroy everything in his way.

In the 11th round of the fight last Sunday he caught Machen against the ropes and hit him with a powerful right hand that sliced open Eddie's face and sent him to his knees. The mandatory eight-count rule, which requires that fighters knocked off their feet must take a count of eight before resuming battle, had been waived for the meeting, and Machen popped back to his feet at once, though dazed and with blood streaming down his face. It was an opportunity—an opponent momentarily helpless—that would have been capitalized on immediately by a Rocky Marciano or a Cassius Clay or a Sonny Liston. But Patterson stood quietly by and waited, looking at Machen with a curious half smile on his face. He did not move in for the kill, and Machen quickly recovered.

This was the maneuver—or rather, the nonmaneuver—that upset Johansson. "You take a step back when you should not," he told Patterson in the dressing room. "You had him hurt maybe five, six times. Why you don't move in? You must take a step forward, Floyd." Patterson looked at him enigmatically and did not reply. Later, however, Patterson said, "I was winning the 11th round when I hurt him, and I looked in his face and I saw hurt and defeat. This is a man who has had a hard life. He has been broke and in a mental institution. Should I knock him down further for my own good? I was winning. I didn't have to hurt him." Then he added, "He fought a good fight. He deserves a shot at Clay more than I do. He's broke and he's been down, and he deserves it."

This kindliness of Floyd's, a reflection of his hunger for friendship, for approval, for recognition, has its counterpart in his fear and resentment of disapproval, his touchiness, his moodiness. Before the fight in Stockholm (from which he earned $100,000, as a crowd of 40,000 damp Swedes paid approximately $300,000 dollars to watch on a rainy northern evening), Floyd annoyed even his enthusiastic Scandinavian admirers by sequestering himself like a moody Garbo in a small resort town 300 miles from Stockholm. He strained the abundant friendship most of the Swedish press has for him by making himself very hard to find for interviews. "I spent three days in Ronneby trying to talk to him," one Swedish reporter said, "and finally I got to see him for 20 minutes. Is this the Patterson we liked so well? I do not think so."

"He misses Cus D'Amato," said a man who is close to Patterson, referring to Floyd's first and longtime manager, from whom he is estranged. "He tries to do everything himself now—run the camp, worry about the money, take legal advice, everything. D'Amato used to do all that and keep him away from everyone so that he could concentrate on fighting. And then you have to remember that he was raised by Cus. When Cus first got him he was just a kid who didn't know anything about anything. All he knows and all his attitudes he got from D'Amato, including his suspicions and prejudices and his quickness to resent. He's got all of D'Amato's craftiness without D'Amato's background and intelligence."

In one of his rare colloquies with a member of the press, Patterson said, "I have to prove something. If I could preview a fight and see that I would be destroyed I would still fight. If I had to fight every day for seven days I would do it to prove myself." He focused all of his attention on the task at hand: beating Machen, proving himself. Although his brother Ray, who served as a sparring partner in his camp, could have had a fight on the card with Floyd and Machen, Patterson turned thumbs down on the grounds that he had to give his entire concentration to his own bout and did not want to have to worry about his brother at the same time.

(Sports Illustrated - July 1964)

that's Floyd alright - with frazier, patterson is my favourite heavyweight for the reasons given here