BoxRec

Welcome to first edition of the Boxing Biographies
Newsletter No 1, 4th July 2007

Each week we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the boxing across the years.

In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Any contributions you wish to make to the content of the site are most welcome and full credit will be given if requested.
Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks

Rob Snell, Sam Jones & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com


Some of the stories you will find on the site

Reeling Jess Willard lay on the ropes and took punch after punch, the knock down came once again by a vicious right hand to the back of Willard’s head. Unable to stand with out the ropes Big Jess was defenceless as again and again he was hit before hitting the floor again. Nothing like this has ever been seen before or since in a boxing ring, never had one man been beaten so severely and with such little mercy. Reports vary to the damage Willard took, but it is generally considered he suffered a severely broken jaw, a cheek broken in as many as 13 places, 6th teeth removed and a couple of broken ribs, the fight should have been over, but it would continue for two more rounds. This is where the fight gets really interesting.

Let’s not forget the fight was 10 seconds short, now technically Dempsey should have won via a first round knock out, Kearns should have won $100,000 on his bet and Willard should have been spared any further punishment but instead the fight would continue. Technically Jack Dempsey was out of the ring when the second round was due to start, everyone thought he was champion but he wasn’t Willard was ‘saved’ by the bell and the when second round was due to begin Dempsey was no where to be seen, if the rules were followed Jack Dempsey would have lost the fight for failing but as one sports writer would say it wasn’t just Willard that took a beating in Toledo the rules took one to ROUND 2
Unbelievably there would be a second round, Willard was a mass of swelling and blood, on shaky legs and wearing a bemused look he incredibly came out for the 2nd session.

In the early going Willard tries to fend of the aggressive challenger who forces him back against the ropes and throws numerous punches that bounce of Willard’s damaged face. Jack belted Willard with a huge right hand that made him stumble across the ring; the challenger was in hot pursuits throwing punches from all angles, punches fell on Willard like so much rain. The champion was barely able to protect his bloodied face and barely threw a punch, all he could do was take punches and hold Dempsey in close. Jess Willard was so incredibly brave to take a savage beating as he reeled around the ring; he was at the mercy of a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word.
ROUND 3

Somehow Jess Willard was still standing but he had precious little offer, the fight should have been over a long time ago to prevent further damage but like a brave soldier and a proud man still Willard fought on. He actually managed to land a few punches in the early part of the third but soon the old pattern returned as Dempsey kept on punishing the champion from all angles. The round ended and with his legs shaking and his face re arranged courtesy of the Manassa Mauler. A white towel, stained with the former champions blood fluttered into the ring, finally it was over for Jess Willard.

There was a new heavyweight champion made on July 4th 1919, when the fallen fighter was asked if he would try to regain the title he accepted the fact that he couldn’t beat Dempsey, he was happy to go back to his farm in Kansas with his money in his pocket, he was beaten horrible, but he was happy. For years after the fight conspiracy theories of loaded gloves being used to assist Dempsey in destroying Willard came and went but one thing remained was that Dempsey was one the most aggressive, hardest hitting, smartest and fondly remembered heavyweight fighter of all time. He did what he had to do in Toledo, Jack Johnson said that no man would ever knock out Jess Willard and that is quite the compliment to both of the fighters in Toledo on July 4th, 1919.


John L Sullivan’s Barnstorming Tour

A GROUP of sporting men sat around a table in a Broadway cafe talking of fighters who are now classed as has-beens and of those who now loom high on the pugilistic horizon. One of the group was Frank Moran, who was at one time John L. Sullivan's manager. Some one remarked that John L. was still up and doing, for, although he is old and fat, he is said to have knocked out a heavy weight in a Western city a few weeks ago.

The mention of the ex-champion's name brought forth many reminiscences of the fighter, and it was Moran who told the best ones. "Soon after Sullivan whipped Paddy Ryan," said Moran, "Al Smith” conceived the idea of having him make a tour of this country. That was in 1883, when the big fellow was in tiptop shape.

"Smith got a troupe together. There were nine persons In the party—Sullivan, Pete McCoy, Steve Taylor, Mike Gillespie, Herbert Slade, Mike Donovan, all boxers; Al Smith, Jake Munzinger, the treasurer of the troupe, and myself.

"Smith went ahead with the show smoothing the way, while I stayed behind and stuck to the big fellow and kept things going smoothly. It was an eight months' trip, and we made $110,000 outside of our expenses, which were $44,000. "It was purely a boxing troupe, and Steve Taylor was Sullivan's sparring partner. Sullivan was so good then that we went all over this country offering $1000 In cash to any man who would stay before him for four rounds.

"Many men tried to coo that money, but none succeeded. During that tour Sullivan knocked out thirty-nine men, Some of them were husky citizens, too, for Richard K. Fox was sore on Sullivan and left no stone unturned to find a man Who could whip him. That he didn't succeed only proves that Sullivan was the greatest fighter this country or any other ever produced.

"Although we made a lot of money on that tour we certainly had some worrying- to keep us from getting it too easy. Sullivan caused the worrying. "He was then engaged in a catch-as catch- can fight with that celebrated champion, John Barleycorn. Mix the last named John -with the first named, and you have a combination that would keep a dozen angels busy trying to avoid trouble. "When we struck Butte, Mont., the miners turned out In force to welcome Sullivan. The first night we played they were hanging to the rafters.

"We struck town early in the day and as usual Sullivan spent his leisure time In examining- the interior woodwork of the city barrooms. When it came time for the show he was well soused. "Nevertheless, we had advertised that there was $1,000 In cash for any man who would stay four rounds with Sullivan. We had to make good, even If Sullivan was a little shaky on his feet.

"Well, a big strapping- miner thought he would like that money, and he let it be known to his friends. They egged him on, and when we got to the hall -where the show was to be held I found that the aspirant after the thousand was a pretty ferocious looking citizen.

"I was a little worried, for I knew; the shape Sullivan was in. I didn't care about losing the money, but I knew If the big fellow was knocked out by some unknown his reputation would be dinged. "I told Sullivan that I thought he was up against it, but he only growled at me. I had a couple of the boys work on him To get him in as good shape as possible. Then I went to the unknown's dressing room and handed him the gloves he was to wear.

"They were two and a half ounce gloves, and you know what a wallop with one of them means. The miner wore heavy cowhide boots and told me he would box in them. He looked so big that I went back to Sullivan's room to try and throw a scare into the big fellow. " 'He's a big buck with a red shirt and red beard, and he looks as hard as nails, I said to him. " Got a red beard, has he?” said Sullivan. 'That'll stop the blood when I get at him. " He's as big as you are, John” said I. " So much the better," roared the champion. “The bigger he is the harder the fall.”

Well, they went on. Both men got a great reception. Sullivan wobbled a bit, and the miner hit him a clip on the Side of the jaw. That woke the champion up. He went at the unknown and in a minute that red-shirted, red-whiskered miner was covered with gore. Before the round was over Sullivan put him out.

“What did I tell you? " said the champion, as he came back to the dressing room. "We went through part of British Columbia, and when we struck Victoria we were met by the mayor of the town, who asked us if it was true that we were offering $1000 In real money to any man whom -Sullivan couldn't knock out In four rounds. The mayor was an Irishman and a little bit of a fellow. I told him I stood ready to make such an offer and he asked me to produce the money.

After I made sure who he was I turned over $1.000 to show that we meant business. They had a Frenchman, in. that town whom the natives thought was a great fighter. He was a pretty good third rater, but, of course, we didn't know that until after he had gone up against the champion.

The night of our show I found this Frenchman in his dressing room, being rubbed from head to foot with fish oil. I asked what that was for, and his handlers told me that was being done so that Sullivan's blows would slip off his body. Another precaution they took against Sullivan's fists was to wrap about ten yards of red flannel around that Frenchman's stomach. When he lined up before John L. he was a funny looking sight, with his Oily body and his red flannel bandage. Sullivan was about in the same condition as when he met the red whiskered miner in Butte. When he once got his bearings he was all right and he knocked the Frenchman down, three times In the first round The last time the Frenchman stayed down, and In fact he was unconscious for twenty minutes.

When he came to, he asked Sullivan to speak to him. " I break wood and fences with my fist,” he said to John, “but you break stone." “How's it feel to be knocked out?” asked Sullivan." The first punch I thought I saw one French soldier," was the reply. "The, last punch I thought I saw a whole regiment.' "Knocking out the local champion made John L. many new admirers, but he didn't keep them long-.

"Ned Hanlan, the oarsman, happened to be in. town the next day. He was on his way to Australia with George Lee. The people of the town got up a banquet In honor of Hanlan, and he invited the members of Sullivan's party. No one went to the banquet from our troupe but Sullivan and Gillespie.

"There was plenty to drink there and Sullivan didn't stint himself. At the end of the dinner the toastmaster rapped for order and called upon every one to rise and drink to the health of the Queen. Everybody got up but Sullivan. Gillespie arose and Sullivan tried to yank him. Back In his chair. The toastmaster noticed, that Sullivan didn't get up, and he couldn't help but remark It. " Who is the guest who refuses to rise and drink the health of the Queen?" demanded the toastmaster. " John L. Sullivan,' bellowed the only man sitting. To ***** with the Queen Come on, Gillespie.

"Sullivan was out of his seat In an Instant end making for the, door, dragging the other fighter after him. Of course there was a great hubbub over this, but we got out of town the next day and the incident never seemed to hurt our business once we got out of British territory.

We all felt badly over Sullivan’s break with the exception of John, himself. We had been treated royally in Victoria, and had been made much of. We had even been Invited aboard a British man-of-war that was In the harbor, and It seemed a mighty ungrateful thing for even, a prize fighter to do. "However, no one could tell Sullivan that without danger of getting whipped. Sullivan wouldn't listen to advice In those days. 'If he had listened he would be a wealthy man to-day. '"

"In several cities John came near getting hurt, and In one Fort Worth, Tex, he had to be hurried out of town during the night. A party, of drunken cowboys got on his trail, and they certainly would have put an end to Sullivan If they had caught him.

Cockfighting was the principal sport In Fort Worth then, and a big main was pulled off for our especial benefit. It took place In the afternoon, and one of the men who handled some of the birds was an old chap who certainly was popular with the cowboys. I don't recall what the old man's name was, even if I ever knew. "If Sullivan, knew the old chap's name he forgot it. "While the birds "were at Sullivan bellowed that he would bet $50 on the bird which the old man was handling and, not knowing his name, he called him a name that was tabooed In Fort Worth. Sullivan didn't mean anything by it, but the cowboys got fighting mad. "Nothing was said then, but after the main the cowboys got together and decided that one of their friends had been insulted by the champion pugilist. They talked over the Insult, and then began to liquor up. When they got a sufficient quantity of booze aboard they concluded that they would kill John L.

"It was night when they came to this determination and set out to search for Sullivan. John L.'s friends learned their intentions, and the champion was half carried, half dragged away and bundled Into a wagon and taken from the town. "At Dallas, Tex., we had another exciting adventure. In many towns in which we showed some big- gun would try to provoke Sullivan into a fight when he was drunk in some barroom. This was done so that the man who did the provoking could get In a few good punches at Sullivan and then go out among the townspeople and play the part of the hero.

"One of the city officials of Dallas decided that his fortune would be made If he could whip Sullivan, and he laid plans to do It. The only trouble was that he arranged to kill Sullivan If he should get the worst of the fight in which he intended to engage the champion. This fight was to take place in a barroom when Sullivan was about half loaded. "Well, this official laid his plans carefully, but I heard of his Intention In time to prevent a fight. The scrap was almost due when I appeared on the scene and took John away In a jiffy. I Then I went to this man who was going to get into a fight with him and told him what I had heard. He admitted that he wanted to whip Sullivan, and said that if he couldn't do it with his fists he was going to do It with a gun. He seemed aggrieved when deprived of the opportunity. The man rather surprised me, for he held an important city office, one which required him to preserve peace and order, instead of breaking It, as he firmly intended to do.

Those are only a few instances of the times we had on that tour. They were exciting times, but I wouldn't want to go through them again. We all got back safe and sound with the exception of the big Australian, Slade. He was the only deserter from our ranks. He quit In Utah and joined the Mormons. I guess he is a Mormon still."


Next weeks edition will deal with the life and times of
Joe Choynski

I like the site and having the old newspaper reports is a truly great idea.

thanks mate, its taken a lot of work to get it started but very pleased.

Welcome to Second Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter

Saturday, 21 July 2007

Each new edition we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the Noble Science across the years. In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks Rob Snell, Manos & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com
please visit our parent site
http://www.crapboxingchat.com

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”
[email protected]

Firstly I would like to thank the many visitors to the site who have contacted me in the last few weeks and the helpful comments made regards future content . I decided to wait for a few weeks before embarking on this next newsletter so I could take stock of the situation and of course prepare future material. One of the suggestions made was to put together a full listing of the sources used in the compilation of the various biographies as this would a helpful resource tool for visitors. A terrific example, which I urge people to visit, of a web site which will be included in such a listing is the site put together by Tony Triem, Boxing Historian Las Vegas, NV http://www.members.cox.net/boxer561 .

The majority of material being placed on the site at this time is concerned with the early bare knuckle era taken, from a wide range of source material, which also includes a considerable number of fine works of artwork which so often accompanied the articles printed in these early years of sports reporting. Some shortened examples of new additions to the site are as follows;

JOHN BROUGHTON AND JACK SLACK

THE first Boxing Champion of England of whom any record has been handed down to us was Figg. Fistiana or The Oracle of the Ring gives his date as 1719. Strictly, however, his title to fame rests more securely on his excellence with the cudgel and small sword than on fisticuffs, and the real father of the ring was John Broughton, who was Champion from 1738 to 1750. Broughton had a famous place of entertainment known as the Amphitheatre, in Hanway Yard, Oxford Road, near the site of a like establishment that had been kept by Figg. Here, with pit and gallery and boxes arranged about a high stage, displays of boxing were given from time to time, and here it was that sportsmen first learned to enjoy desperate struggles between man and man.

As has already been shown, Broughton formulated the rules which for many years to come were to govern fighting, and which, much as they leave to the imagination as well as to the discretion of officials, tell us with the utmost simplicity the conditions under which men fought. For eighteen years John Broughton was undisputed Champion of England. That probably meant very little, for boxing had not yet become popular and its science was in its extremest infancy. I would gladly make the foolish and unprofitable bet that if Broughton, in his prime and with his bare fists, could be transplanted to these latter days, he would not stand for one minute before Joe Beckett with the gloves on. (That is less of a handicap than it sounds to any boxer who has never used his bare knuckles.)

Broughton's fight with Slack can by no standard be called great, but it has its peculiar importance in showing us how a certain degree of skill hampered by over-confidence and lack of training may be at the mercy of courage, strength, and enterprise. Broughton's knowledge of boxing, compared with the science of Jem Belcher and Tom Spring, must have been negligible; but years of practice must have taught him something. As far as we can gather, Slack knew less than a small boy in his first term at school. He was a butcher by trade, and one day at Hounslow Races he had " words " with the champion, who laid about him with a horse-whip. Thereupon Slack challenged Broughton, and the fight took place at the Amphitheatre on April l0th, 1750.

There was nothing elegant about Jack Slack. His attitude was ugly and awkward, he was strong and healthy but quite untrained in our meaning of the word. He only stood 5 feet 8^ inches but weighed close upon 14 stone nearly as much as his antagonist, who was a taller man. Broughton was eager for the fight or for the money to be derived from it. He regarded Slack with the utmost contempt and made no sort of preparation. So afraid was he that the butcher might not turn up at the last minute that he gave him ten guineas to make sure of him ! The betting was 10- 1 on Broughton when the men appeared in the ring. After all, as boxing went in these days, he did know something about defence, and he was master of two famous blows, one for the body and one under the ear, which were said to terrify his opponents.

How Jim Coffey Got his start
In the Boxing Game
Irish Giant Began Boxing Career Four Years ago Tonight

It will be four years tonight since Jim Coffey, the Irish giant, set out on that ring Career which his multitude of Hibernian admirers fondly hoped would land him at the worlds championship goal. Not that they have entirely abandoned hope , for the Irish are of sanguine disposition, but their hero's defeat this month by Frank Moran in New York, following the knockout administered to the motorman by the same sorrel topped gladiator last October, has dampened their enthusiasm.

The fourth anniversary of Coffey's ring debut is almost coincident with his twenty fifth birthday, for the January of 1891 was nearing its close when Coffey first opened his eyes upon the world at Roscommon, Ireland. He was christened James Joseph, and grew up Into a big broth of a lad working on his fathers farm, attending school occasionally and wrestling with the neighbor boys.

Jim was a good rough and tumble wrestler, but he had scarcely heard Of boxing when he decided to emigrate to America. The big fellow landed in Boston In April, 1910, and immediately hiked to Pawtucket R. I., where he had friends. There he worked for a time in a bleachery, and later got a Job as a teamster in Providence. Less than a year after landing in America he arrived in New York, where he got employment
as a motorman on a surface car.


Ned Turner and Jack Scoggins

At the beginning of the nineteenth century there were, then, plenty of good little men, though we hear less about them than we do of the champions. Jack Scroggins was one, Ned Turner another. Scroggins may, by present standards, be called a light middle-weight: he was just under 11 stone. Turner was 10 stone 4 lb. just over the present light-weight limit. The first time they fought the ring was broken by rowdy spectators, and the result was a draw.

The second battle took place at Sawbridgeworth on June 10th, 1817, and Jack Scroggins, who had never yet been beaten, staked £120 to £80 on the event. Ned Turner the Welshman referred to by George Borrow in the passage quoted in the Introduction was a very fine boxer, and at the outset put up an almost impenetrable defence. Some minutes in the first round went by before the two men really began to fight. Scroggins was accustomed to dash in and hit his man at the very beginning, but something in Turner's attitude daunted him, and he held off. But a start had to be made, and after a while he did rush, came close to his man, and gave him a light hit from which he fell. Scroggins had been a sailor and was a jolly little man, ever eager to see the bright side of a situation. In the present case he was absurdly elated at his trifling
success, and dashed in again.

This time the Welshman caught him hard on the face twice, following these blows with another in the ribs, but when they wrestled for a fall he was underneath. Scroggins saw now that he had taken on a better man than he had ever faced before, and was correspondingly cautious. Round after round Turner showed himself quicker with his fists, the sailor stronger in a close. In the fourth round Turner sent in a vicious blow on his opponent's neck which, Scroggins said later on, decided the fight. It is true that he threw Turner again and again after that, but he was a hurt man.

At the end of the fifth round a troop of Yeomanry were seen approaching, clattering down the lane which ran alongside the field of battle. It was thought at first by the ring officials and spectators that these soldiers had come to spoil sport; but as a matter of fact they had heard of the fight and had merely determined to see it.

Next weeks edition is devoted to

Joe Choynski

i changed my mind about including him in this second edition

Welcome to Third Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter

Saturday, 28 July 2007

Each new edition we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the Noble Science across the years. In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks Rob Snell, Manos & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com please visit our parent site http://www.crapboxingchat.com

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”
[email protected]

This weeks Newsletter is devoted to the great Joe Choynski . The following articles are available in full on the web site along with much more on this remarkable man.

The Days of Finish Fights By Joe Choynski
Story section Free press Winnipeg Saturday January 8,1927

Finish Fight With Corbett
Chapter 5



After Corbett and I had fought four rounds at Fairfax the Sheriff ( who thought the contest was over) arrived and stopped the scrap. The contest had been fairly even, with, little harm, done to either.

A week later, by agreement we resumed fighting on a grain barge owned by Tom Williams, Corbett’s wealthy backer, in the Straits of Carquinez; for twenty seven, rounds we fought with more ring craft than nine-tenths of present-day fighters possess. My seconds were Jack Dempsey (the original Nonpariel ) and Eddie Graney In Corbettt's corner were Walter Watson and Billy Delaney.

It is my conviction, that Jack Dempsey was a liability rather than an asset to me and that if he had not been my chief adviser I would have won. For the first fifteen rounds he dinned into my ears the need of extreme caution. "This fellow is clever, he would say: "Keep away from him. Fight cautious “.

Exactly the opposite style of fighting is what I should have adopted I believe I would have stopped Corbett in a few rounds had I used my own Instinct to keep on top of him and make it a slugging match. At the end of the fifteenth round Eddie Graney came out of his trance and angrily shoved, Dempsey aside. "To hell with caution. Joe!" he bawled. In my ear. "He's cutting you to pieces at long range. Go in and fight him!".

But by that time my eyes were almost closed from Corbett's jabs and I could scarcely see him. I was also terribly tired. However, I summoned my remaining strength and took the offensive. It was too late. During the last seven rounds both of us were at the point of exhaustion and alternately ready to drop. Victory hung delicately poised, but in the end Corbett's weight and science inclined the scales and I was the one to be counted out, one knee on the, ground and one hand, on the ropes. This was in the-twenty seventh round.

Corbett admits in his memoirs that he himself could have gone no further when. I collapsed. It was as even a contest as could be imagined. Corbett would never, meet me again, although I challenged him persistently. It will be seen from the facts set forth here that Corbett and I really had but one fight to a decision.

Think of a finish fight between men of our class with no "gate!"' .It's enough to make publicity artists like Tex Rickard and artists like Jack
Kearns call for the hemlock. I was twenty years old and weighed, 155(?) pounds; Corbett was twenty-two and outweighed me by fifteen pounds. The notion that Corbett could not hit effectively Is erroneous While never a knock-down socker like Peter Maher, Sullivan or Fitzsimmons he had ample punishing power but his extreme caution kept him from using it to full advantage. He was unwilling to take the slightest chance in the ring, never tore in to kill or get killed.

It was this extreme caution that lost him, his fight With Fitzsimmons. Corbett was nervous and overwrought before that meeting his trainers tried in vain to divert his mind from the impending battle: Corbett entered the ring in stark dread of Fitz's deadly hitting. Fitz, on the other hand had no expectation of winning He did not believe he could beat Corbett, but he was doggedly determined to do his best, accept the breaks and being resigned to the worst remained calm and cool, with all his rugged strength unimpaired .

Corbett's blows, delivered always on the run, did not damage Fitz, and as Bob began to realize that Corbett was not hurting him he took heart
and tore in. with cold fury, the result of which is ring history. Before passing, on from my recollections of the Corbett feud I wish say that I have no more bitter feelings. Time mellows us all The past is forgotten, and Corbett and I have been friends for years But I feel that: I am entitled to give my version of what occurred in the days when we were foes.

15 January 1927 by Joe Choynski chapter 9

Stopped Owen Sullivan and Mick Dooley



OWEN SULLIVAN was not only of gigantic proportions, but he was one of the clever boxers of the Larry Foley school. My friend who wagered I would stop. Sullivan in four rounds was considered "balmy," and I confess I believed he had acted rashly. But I knocked Sullivan out in the first round with a punch to the ribs. He had to be carried from the ring and we were afraid he was going to die. It was a week before he could leave his bed.

Still believing I could beat Goddard, I asked for a return match, and the Barrier Champion consented. The second meeting was held at Melbourne and was almost a repetition of the first. Goddard again beat me in four rounds of desperate fighting. Again I came, against the referee's ruling prohibiting me from "striking'' Goddard with my shoulders and elbows when his body collided with me as I ducked.

While it does not belong at this point to tell about it, I think it fair to record here that I met Goddard a third time, two years later at Philadelphia, with an American referee, and gave him a bad beating in six rounds! In that contest Goddard did not lay a glove on me. Despite my two defeats by Goddard the Australians rated me as a. great fighter. In that country a defeated man is not thrown in the discards. I like several other characteristics of the Australians. For example, after I knocked out Owen Sullivan I went but to the race track the next day and was nearly floored when .strangers would introduce themselves to me and tell me they won on me and offer to divide their winnings with me. Who ever heard of such a thing in America?.

Another delightful custom was the way they paid over the stakes. A banquet was held the day after the fight, to which the principals their
seconds, managers and members of the press were invited. Complimentary things were said, and the fighters were given their money.

One day In Melbourne I was sitting In a popular oyster house conducted by .Jack Warner, a well-to-do Australian sporting character. Suddenly I heard a fearful, uproar accompanied by a crash of broken glass. I looked around and saw a man riding through the front door on a horse. I was amazed to recognize the rider as Duncan Harrison, manager of John L. Sullivan, who was then touring Australia with his melodrama, "Honest Hearts and Winning Hands."

Harrison was arrested for drunkenness and fined the customary, Australian "seven and six," meaning 7 shillings, 6 pence, equivalent in American money to about $1.85. The Sullivan show was a flop in Australia. The Australians are lovers of art and patrons of the drama, but the spectacles of Sullivan playing the, role of a poor blacksmith whose family was threatened with eviction from home— Sullivan dressed in silk shirt, black velvet pants, silk hose and wearing big diamonds—was too much for their critical Judgment.

I was next matched with Mick Dooley; cleverest of all Larry Foley's pupils. Dooley had also fought Goddard' two hard fights, losing the last in
18 hard rounds. Doolev had also fought hard-battles with "Frank Slavin. then generally regarded as the equal of Goddard. Dooley weighed only 168 pounds, and was the first man of my own weight I had met.

But Dooley's wonderful skill was not much greater than my own by that time, for I had profited by my, study of the, boxing of Australians, adapting much of it. to my American knowledge. I knocked Dooley cold in the first Round. My last public appearance in Australia was in an exhibition bout with Steve O'Donnell, another remarkably clever boxer, 6 feet 2 inches tall; who afterward became Jim Corbett's sparring partner. Steve had every natural advantage except courage.

The next day I ran into John L. Sullivan on the street and he invited me into an ale house to have a drink. He told me was tired of the poor, patronage his show had attracted and suggested that, as I was about to return home, we book passage on the same ship. I readily agreed.
Just before I departed for home after 14 months in Australia, a banquet was given for me at Melbourne, and I was presented by the sports of Melbourne with a silk purse containing-200 sovereigns.

Meeting Samoan King and John L

JOHN L, SULLIVAN and I were together most of the time on our voyage home from Australia. He was an affable and interesting companion—-not at all surly and drunken brute which many picture him-.There were undoubtedly times, when the big fellow was in his cups, that he was ill tempered, but these occasions were rare. I found Sullivan very intelligent. And by the way I also found that he was a skillful boxer as well as a tremendous hitter.

John L. told me a. good story, on Larry Foley one day as we walked the deck linked arm in arm. Foley was unable to read or write although a. successful business man in Sydney. Some one offered to bet him a "quid" he could not learn to write his name in a fortnight. Foley accepted the wager and hired Jim Fogarty to teach him to write his name. Fogarty rehearsed Foley on. the .name "Tom Baker" by carefully showing him how to draw the letters as in print. When two weeks were up Foley met Corbett and; triumphantly sneered: "Ha yer thought I couldn't do it, did. yer? I'll bloody well show -yer," and he proceeded to, print the letters "T-O-M B-A-K-E-R" before the astonished crowd.

The derisive laughter that followed amazed Foley. “What’s the matter” he demanded. "Why yer caun't write yer name," he was told "that; spells Tom Baker. Foley made a. dash out of the place and hunted until he found Fogarty in another pub. He proceeded to denounce the "jawbreaker" for a. fraud and demanded a return of his money. But Fogarty, unsmilingly, insisted that the name Foley had scrawled was Foley's own. Larry then ran back to his own place angrier than ever and offered to lick the whole crowd unless the wager was paid, over at once. It required several hours to straighten him out on the puzzle and he did not speak to Fogarty for months after.

When we arrived at the Samoan Islands King Mateefa, who had learned that we American fighters were on the ship, sent us an invitation to visit him. The king was a magnificent physical specimen, six feet four inches tall, weighing 300 pounds and a perfectly proportioned athlete. He was almost nude and tattooed from waist to head. Mateefa, however was a university-trained man, and spoke English perfectly. As he-shook hands with Sullivan, he remarked with a laugh, "Why, you are not such a big man; I would not be afraid to fight you myself."

Arriving home from Australia I was offered a finish fight at San Francisco with Billy Woods, from Denver, a Scotch heavyweight, 6 feet 1 inch tall, and a well built athlete. In the first session Woods floored me. I got up and floored him. The gong rang, -with Woods taking the count." Afterward I learned that many late arrivals in the audience came in while Woods, was on the floor in the first round. On leaning that Choynski had knocked his opponent, down in the first round for the count they turned round, and went home, thinking the fight was over.

But that fight went thirty-four rounds-before I got Woods on the floor to stay. Con Mooney, dog fighter and rat killer, a picturesque character and a pal of Bat Masterson sat at the ringside plugging lustily for Woods. He kept yelling that I had weak legs and. For Woods to stay away and tire me out.

This is sheer excellence! Nice to be able to have an internet site devoted to this topic.

BoxBuzz wrote:This is sheer excellence! Nice to be able to have an internet site devoted to this topic.

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Thank you very much indeed :-)

that is very kind of you to say friend. I am adding several pages of text and images each day which is the idea off the newsletter in a way.In time we will add further features/sections but at present we want to keep it in this format.

all suggestions are welcome.. within reason !!!!

Rob

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Welcome to Fourth Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter

Saturday, 4 August 2007

Each new edition we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the Noble Science across the years. In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks Rob Snell, Manos & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com please visit our parent site http://www.crapboxingchat.com

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”
[email protected]

19 June 1910

That Solar Plexus Blow

Robert Fitzsimmons v James J Corbett
17 March 1897


Articles for a fight for the championship of the world between the title holder James J. Corbett. and the middleweight champion, Robert Fitzsimmons, were signed a few days before Christmas, 1896. The promoter of this battle, which was fought in Carson City, Nev., was Dan Stuart, of Texas, who had demonstrated his ability in affairs of this sort. Stuart was known the country over as a square man, who always was anxious to make good his word, and with him at the head of affairs the followers of pugilism rested in full confidence that the contest would be in every way above suspicion.

One of Stuart's close friends was a man who for more than thirty years has been interested in all classes of amateur and professional sport and who today is known the country over as one without a blemish upon his reputation. To this man Stuart went one day early in January, 1897 and asked him if he would undertake to place $50,000 in wagers on the Corbett-Fitzsimmons battle, the money to be furnished by Stuart.

"That is too much money to bet on this fight, Dan," said his friend. "When two such men as Corbett, and Fitzsimmons get into the ring- either one is likely to be returned the winner. Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money to risk on a contest of this kind."

"I will not risk the money," said Stuart, "unless I am able to make certain arrangements that I now have in contemplation."

"Fifty thousand dollars could not be bet," replied his friend, "without attracting much attention. I don'tknow what you mean, Dan, but, of course, the Inference is bad. I never have had a shade the best of it, and I don't want the best of it. If I bet $50,000 on this fight my friends would know it, and I would be suspected of employing methods that I do not like. Then if your connection with the wagers were established—and I don't see how it would be possible to keep It secret—It would look very bad for all of us. I wish you would get somebody else to place your money,"

Stuart replied that he knew of no other man who could place $50,000 without attracting a lot of attention that -would be harmful to the fight and distasteful to himself.

"Why don't you try Pittsburg Phil (George E. Smith)," responded his friend. "I had thought of him," said Stuart, "but I am not acquainted with him. Of course, he is just the man to place this money if he could be persuaded to do so." "I will be very glad to see that you meet him," responded Stuart's friend. "If you will name the time and place I will bring you together." This was agreed upon, and Dan Stuart and Pittsburg Phil were brought together. What arrangement was made between them cannot now be told. Both men are dead, and what they knew of the Corbett-Fitzsimmons battle died with them.

Pittsburg Phil was In San Francisco a few days before Corbett and Fitzsimmons came together. That city was in a tumult of excitement, and betting on the result of the fight was free. In the poolrooms, which then flourished in an open manner, Pittsburg Phil took the Fitzsimmons end of the wagers at 1 to 2. So much did he bet that the odds gradually shortened, until two days before the fight 7 to 5 was the longest price that Corbett's adherents would offer. Phil then went to Carson City, where he repeated the methods he had employed in San Francisco. In a poolroom owned and managed by Corbett's brother, Phil wagered a large fortune on the chances of Fitzsimmons, and again he forced the prices to shorten materially.

In the Ring With James J. Corbett.

is available at lulu.com. See http://stores.lulu.com/apollack Those who enjoyed the first book in the series, John L. Sullivan: The Career of the First Gloved Heavyweight Champion, will enjoy this one. It is $45
hardback, $30 paperback.

The preface and intro are available for review at http://www.lulu.com/browse/preview.php?fCID=949480

This is the second book in Adam J. Pollack’s series on the heavyweight champions of the gloved era. It is the most thoroughly researched boxing-detailed biography on James J. Corbett’s career ever written. It reveals new dates, bouts, and facts, shedding fresh light on his experience, skills, and ability. It meticulously describes his bouts and provides multiple viewpoints by local next day newspapers, giving it unparalleled authenticity and accuracy. The exhaustive research provides an encyclopedic wealth of knowledge about Corbett’s boxing career. His bouts are placed into social, legal, racial, and historic contexts, including anti-prize fighting laws and the color line. A complete record of Corbett’s career is included. 435 pages, 51 photos, 820 footnotes, bibliography, index.

Adam J. Pollack is a staff writer for Cyberboxingzone.com, vice chair of USA Boxing’s Judicial Committee and a member of its Women’s Task Force. He is also a boxing coach and attorney living in Iowa City, Iowa.

What you will get in this book:

More detail and accuracy regarding the fights than ever before. Round by round accounts. Pre and post fight analysis. All based on multiple local next day newspaper reports. Dates and local reports of fights which were previously unknown, or for which no one was able to provide a description because the dates were unknown, including William Welch, Joe Choynski, Mike Cleary, Dave Eiseman,etc.

Discussion of Corbett’s semi-fixed fights with Frank Smith, Duncan McDonald, and Dave Campbell, using accounts written at the time. Massive coverage and discussion of the Burke and Choynski bouts, the Peter Jackson fight and subsequent attempts to negotiate a rematch, the Sullivan, McCaffrey, Kilrain, Mitchell, and Sharkey bouts, Corbett’s many exhibitions, and the filmed Courtney bout.

Analysis of race issues and context for how legal issues affected and impeded the fights.

In the Ring With James J. Corbett is of the same quality and style as John L. Sullivan: The Career of the First Gloved Heavyweight Champion. Massive detail on Corbett's bouts and exhibitions - round by round reports, pre and post fight analysis, details about his opponents where applicable, discussion of legal and social issues that affected the sport. You will get to know Corbett as a fighter. It contains information that you will not find anywhere else. I found the previously unknown dates of many bouts, and as a result, I was able to provide the next day newspaper reports. This book will cause historians to change their reports of Corbett’s record. If you really want to be knowledgeable, armed with the facts of his career at your disposal, then this is a must have. You won’t be disappointed.

REVIEWS - Kevin Smith, author of Black Genesis and The Sundowners:

I had the pleasure of reading an advanced copy of Adam's new book and I can assure you that it is quite worth the price of admission. Like Adam's work on Sullivan, In the Ring With James J. Corbett is a highly detailed, well written, and well researched work. I am a big fan of primary sources and this book supplies them in detail, using them to craft a thoroughly accurate and objective look at Corbett's fighting career, his machinations and his business acumen. Adam remains objective in his prose, giving several sides to each fight, each story. In my opinion, Adam's series on the heavyweight champions is the most exhaustively comprehensive group of works available on the fighting lives of these very public and very important social figures. If you want to know about Jim Corbett's career as a fighter, you need not look any further than In the Ring With James J. Corbett. I might also add that at 435 pages, the price tag of $30 is a bargain.

Michael Hunnicutt, writer for International Boxing Research Organization (IBRO):

Boxing historian Adam Pollack has produced the definitive work on the boxing life of James J. Corbett. No other book in existence can compare to the fine and rich details of Corbett's bouts, his training, and fight to the finish Queensberry bouts common for major bouts during Jim's time. Mr. Pollack has continued to set the standard that, at least this writer wishes, could be done for all important boxers, as he previously has for John L. Sullivan. He is a wonder.

Jason Simons, Boxing Scene:

I finished In The Ring With James J. Corbett and, once again, I am VERY impressed. This is a scholarly work worthy of any boxing library. Adam Pollack has done an amazing job with the research and does a good job showing the backgrounds behind the fights and doing as good a job as possible recreating the fights themselves, since, except for a staged bout that not much footage exists from, the fights were not filmed. He has to use eyewitness accounts and newspaper excerpts to recreate the fights and does a very good job with this. I found the descriptions of Corbett's involvement with Joe Choynski particularly fascinating. Once again, like in the Sullivan book, Corbett's personal life is barely and almost never touched upon, but that's fine here. The title indicates that the book deals with the ring life of Corbett and it most certainly achieves that. I definitely look forward to the Fitzsimmons and Jeffries volumes that are mentioned as coming out in the future.

Oakland Tribune 28 Dec 1912
Moran No Longer On List Of White Hopes

Gunboat Smith Wallops Pittsburg Boy In
One Sided Battle; No Knockout

Scratch Frank Moran’s entry in the white hope stakes and substitute Jim Buckley's able seaman, "Gunboat" Smith.

Over at Dreamland rink across the bay last night the Gunboat gave Moran one of the most artistic trimmings landed a boxer in this section in many a long day. The scrap went the full twenty rounds but there was never a round that could be called Moran's. Right from the tap of the gong Smith started to give the red topped Plttsburg lad a boxing lesson, and he kept up the good work until Moran was wobbling about the ring when the final bell rang.

Smith landed his opponent every variety of wallop known to the "profesh" while Moran did not connect solidly more than three times during the twenty rounds. It was a good scrap but would have been a whole lot more interesting had Moran stood up and boxed Instead of covering and clinching at every opportunity.

The Pittsburg lad had fifteen pounds weight advantage over the Gunner and he started with a lot of confidence. For one and a half rounds he stood up and boxed fairly well, but when Smith floored him with a wicked right cross towards the end of the second period Moran changed his tactics and Indulged In a lot of the Frank Gotch stuff. From this point until the finish Smith chased the red head all over the ring.

He hooked, jabbed and uppercut his man with unerring skill, while Moran's wild swings came neared connecting with the chandelier than any part of the Smith after the knock-down in the early part of the scrap and he entertained so much respect for the Smith right hand thereafter that the Gunboat actually feinted him out of the ring in the fourteenth round. The Gunner, who was the aggressor at all times, forced Moran across the ring and as his man reached the ropes Smith feinted with his left. Frank thought he saw another right cross coming his way and he went clear through the ropes before Smith had a chance to deliver.

This was Moran's second excursion from the ring. In the fourth round Smith drove Moran to the ropes and as he landed a stiff left to the body both men fell from the ring among the members of the press In the first row.

The Gunboats showing last night was a revelation. When he left here to tackle the eastern "hopes" all the Gunner had was a stiff right hand punch and a great dislike for punishment. Last night the ex-seaman showed as pretty a left hand as there is in the business In fact, the Gunner used his left hand almost exclusively and he also demonstrated that he has a stout heart and can assimilate punishment. Coming out of a clinch In the sixth round Moran landed a wild swing on Smith's left ear which sent the Gunner staggering.

The gallery boy’s immediately took up the cry "there he goes, watch him dog it," but they were fooled this time. Smith dropped into a clinch and when his head cleared he proceeded to inflict summary damage on the Moran’s head. This was the only damaging punch delivered by Moran during the scrap but It served to show that Manager Jim Buckley has worked wonders with Smith and that the Gunner is now as game as the proverbial pebble.

The Gunboat started execution in the first round with his left hand and he soon had the claret flowing from Moran's nose, Frank had grabbed a hunch from somewhere that he could stand up and box with his opponent and he seemed willing enough to take a punch to land one. It was a foolish policy, as Smith is much faster on his feet than Moran, and is much cleverer boxer. The Gunner kept popping In left hooks with great regularity, meantime keeping his right In reserve. Moran apparently came to the conclusion that the much heralded Smith right hand punch was a myth, as he lowered his left arm in the second round to see what Smith could do.

The guard was dropped only for a moment but Smith was quick to grab the opportunity and Moran went to the floor from a right cross. Frank took the count of nine and arose groggy. This was the end of the fancy boxing on Moran's part, as he was advised from his corner to use his weight and rough it with his lighter opponent. To the surprise of the crowd the Gunner proved some bear himself at the rough stuff. In the clinches he kept shooting up wicked right and left uppercuts which found Moran's chin every time and sent his head bade with a jerk. The Gunner never displayed any uppercuts In his previous bouts here and no one over suspected him of having such an assortment of wallops concealed about his person.

In the fifth round Gunboat caught Smith on the right eye with a left jab and drew the curtains over that optic. It was in the sixth that Moran did the most damage but when Smith got his face In the wav of the punch he was dazed as a result of a head-on collision which left a big gash In his forehead from which the blood flowed freely. Smith kept on piling up points till the eleventh round, when be almost put his man away after forcing Moran to break ground Smith found an opening for his right and popped it to the red head's face. Moran staggered across the ring and as he reached the ropes Smith shoved over another right.

Only the ropes kept Moran from falling down and the bell came to his aid. Again in the fourteenth round Smith had his man groggy with left hand jabs, but Moran weathered the storm and went to his corner a very tired boxer Right here Moran came to the conclusion that he was up against too much class and for the balance of the fight he contented himself with protecting his good looks against the onslaught of the Gunner, clinching at every opportunity. With the exception of half a dozen wild swings which punched holes In the atmosphere Moran did not unbutton a blow In the Last five rounds.

The final analysis of the scrap is that Smith had twenty out of twenty rounds; that the Gunner is 100 per cent better scrapper than when he left here to go East, that he Is not "yellow"; that Moran has no control over his "goat" and that the Pittsburg boy will have to be eliminated from the contenders for the heavyweight championship.

Welcome to Fifth Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Saturday, 11 August 2007

Each new edition we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the Noble Science across the years. In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks Rob Snell, Manos & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com please visit our parent site http://www.crapboxingchat.com

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”
[email protected]


The following has been adapted from a series of 6 extensive articles published in 1919. and Written, with illustrations, by Jack Monroe. 5 of the completed articles are currently available on the web site and extracts are presented here .

A history of Boxing

Has there ever been a championship fight between heavyweights In the American prize ring that didn't bear the label "The Ring Battle of the Century ?" If there has it's one me. And I've followed the game from both the boxer's and the spectator's standpoint for many years. The trite phrase has accompanied each ring conflict from the first battle for the title between Jake ( Jacob ) Hyer and Tom Beasley in 1816 down to the scheduled mill in Toledo on the Fourth of July as seemingly an important a Part of the mechanism of big fisticuffs as a main spring is to a watch. Oddly, enough, though, every championship encounter waged within the past century has contained some feature which seems to justify such a title. Ever stop to think of it.?

The Ring Battle of the Century.

As a preface to the articles which follow it is Interesting to consider this point as well as the remarkable progress of boxing since its origin. ,The latter is chock full of tooth some "dope" for the fight fan and It has a material bearing on the coming contest, showing it in its true light of importance as a modern athletic event. The Jeffries-Johnson bout in 1910 appeared to quality in every department the supreme contest of its kind during the last century. Certainly there never was such a fight that aroused one quarter of the public enthusiasm manifested in big Jeff's bungling attempt to snatch the supremacy of the ring for the white race from his cagey black antagonist. Along with the attraction of mixed colors and races was the towering fistic reputation of each; the question from a scientific standpoint of a marvelous athlete's ability to "comeback" after a lay off of seven years; and the hitherto unheard of "amount of the purse” offered by Tex Rickard who valued the contest at $121,000.


JESS AN UNSOPHISTICATED CONQUEROR

Jess showed what an unsophisticated ringster he was after the bout Almost any other pug who had won a victory over the recognized best white heavyweight of the time would have made to the bar room to play the ”Good Fellow” and drink in the flattery of a great fighter's parasited to the accompaniment of tinkling champagne glasses. Not so Jess. I had expected to find him in the little café adjoining the Madison Square Garden arena.

I shouldered my way in and looked around for the "good fellow" with the golden future. But Willard was no where along the rail, thought that probably he bad not yet finished dressing so I strolled on out the Madison avenue entrance, and who should I see but big Jess propping himself against one of the Garden pillars, surrounded by a gaping mob of ring fans and street urchins.

Jess was silently looking off toward the twinkling lights of Madison Square. He was clad in a remarkably loose fitting, unkempt suit of clothes and sported a good old sombrero of the Kansas plains. After Jess figured he had amply provided for the crowd's curiosity he suddenly threaded his way-through .the press and made off down Broadway. I caught up with him and asked where he was going to celebrate the McCarty victory.

"Guess I'll go to bed, Jack, there's nothing doing around town this hour if the night," Jess replied. It was then about a quarter to twelve—Just about the time I made up my mind that If Jess Willard ever became Champion he would never manufacture superficial popularity over the brass rail of a bar.

Jess Cultivates The Knockout Habit

Jess now had a big name as a White Hope. He next tackled the rough and ready sailor White and upheld his reputation by flattening the seaman with a well directed right uppercut in the opening round. About this time an individual greatly resembling Tom Sharkey to looks and action was creating a furor by the manner in which he was disposing of tough opponents. This gentleman was Soldier Kearns, who was army champ and who also keeled over One Round Davis and the “Hard Boiled” Andy Morris in a round each.

Jess and the Soldier were matched and the wise acres whispered that a certain cow puncher congesting Broadway, would soon be roping cattle again down Oklahoma way. Some of the reform element even tried to halt the match on the grounds that it was nothing short of a crime to pit an innocent , overgrown cowboy against a man eating type like Kearns. But the match came to pass.

WHAT HAPPENED TO ONE SOLDIER KEARNS

For the first few rounds Jess was very cautious. Kearns tore into the big fellow and made quite a showing despite Jess' big advantage in size. It was about an even thing when the two squared off for the eighth round. Jess was content to lean far back out of range, while avoiding the burly dough-boy's haymakers and didn't make a great attempt to inflict damage on his foe. He smiled a lot and now and then poked Kearns a stiff jab or rapier-like uppercut by way of diversion. It looked as if it would go to the limit unless Jess ran into one of the soldier's wild swings which were frequently swishing through the air.

The eighth was about half over when Kearns drove a terrific left to Willard’s Stomach. Jess beaming good nature was changed to a boiling fury with the wallop.The cow boy drew a long breath and shot a straight right to Kearns's jaw. It was one of the hardest raps I've ever seen delivered in or out of the ring Kearns's heels went high in the air and he landed in almost vertical position, with his head where his feet should be, on the other side of the ring. It was a clean knockout. This bout proved conclusively that Willard was a genuine fighter when he felt like Unlimbering his ring artillery and pounding the enemy.

WILLARD ENCOUNTERS ADVERSITY

Jess was now enjoying some degree of fame as a promising candidate for Jack Johnson's honors. But he was soon to run afoul of the New York State Boxing Commission. Early in 1913 he Journeyed to his old stamping ground in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, and polished off Fred Bauer and Jack Leon in five and four rounds respectively. Previously he had been matched with One Round Davis for a set to at Buffalo, but Willard injured his hand on Leon and was unable to entertain the One Round artist. Jess didn't even bother about notifying! the Buffalo Club that he couldn't go on. For this he drew a suspension from the New York authorities.


FORMS PARTNERSHIP WITH TOM JONES

However, about this time Jess ran across the astute Tom Jones. Tom explained to the crest fallen rancher that New York wasn't the only place a pug could make a rep. He suggested a trip to the Pacific coast and Jess pulled stakes for the land of sunshine under the management of the man who was to pilot him to a world’s championship. However misfortune was not yet through with big Jess. He tackled the formidable Gunboat Smith who had been dumping heavyweight aspirants right and left with his terrible “Occipital” swing as his manager described it.

The Gunner had a knack of connecting his crusher early and Jess had been warned by Jones to watch for it. Willard was getting along famously bending back out of the patch of Smith’s comet like lift and inflicting some damage of his own. But in the fifth Smith connected with his swing. Willard said afterward that it was the hardest smack he had ever bumped into. It was almost a knockout although Jess didn’t go to the floor.


WHIPPED BY GUNBOAT SMITH

At that it really won the fight for the Gunner. Willard became so wary of a similar swipe that he lost all the thought of fight and was content to stick twenty rounds with Smith. Gunboat received a well earned decision. Willard greatly discouraged told Jones he was going to quit fighting. For almost a month he lay idle and moped. Then Jones aroused him to action again, picking an easier match in Charlie Miller the big motorman. Jess and Miller went four rounds to a draw.

A couple of months later Willard encountered another mishap. At Vernon, California, he knocked out Bill Young in the eleventh round, the bout ending in the latter's death. Jess was put under arrest, but eventually was exonerated of blame for the unfortunate ending of the mill. The realization that an opponent Had died from the effect of one of his blows increased Willard's natural cautiousness inside the ropes. It was nearly three months after Young's death before Jess donned the gloves again. He then just managed to win over George Rodel. Later something of the old fighting spirit returned and he dropped Jack Reed in two rounds and One Round Davis in the same number, and polished off Boer Rodel In nine.

But interspersing these feats were a sloppy ten round burlesque with Carl Morris and the worst showing of Jess' ring career—his twelve round defeat by Middle weight Tom McMahon. Willard, however, restored himself to public favor by scoring knockouts over the giant Dan Daily and George Rodel. Daily who had but a few weeks previous put Al Palzer away in two rounds went out in 9 sessions. It took Jess but six to eliminate Boer Rodel

WHEN THE TITLE CAME BACK TO THE WHITE RACE

The public was now convinced that Willard was the logical opponent for Johnson. The latter, ostracized from his native country by reason of shameful Misconduct, and badly in need of cash received the suggestion of a battle with Willard with open arms. Jess by this time had acquired a real gladiators spirit. He felt confident he could beat the black were they to meet in the ring. That fight is history now and everyone is familiar with the details of the fray which marked the downfall of one of the greatest colored boxers the prize ring has ever produced.

Willard fought the champion pretty, much as he did his other opponents —Johnson couldn't rattle him, often couldn't hit him, and for the first time in his life was obliged to carry the fighting to his opponent. Jess attempted no rushes and smiled at Jack’s cunning tricks to draw him out.

JOHNSON SEES HANDWRITING ON WALL

For the first time since he won the title Johnson fought with the desperation of a man who had met his match. Jack tried every conceivable method of beating down his giant white opponent. Out boxed At long range by Willard’s long left he switched to in fighting. But Willard simply Leaned back from jack’s famous upper cut and when the champ resorted to roughing he gave him a plenty of the same.. Toward the end of the fight Johnson fagged out, gathering All his strength together and finally feinted into an excellent opening. Like a flash Johnson hooked a terrific left to the point of Jess’s jaw and as the cowboy’s head rolled to the left Jack threw all his power into a crashing right uppercut. Jess was doubled over like a Jack knife. The spectators arose as one with a chorus of “Ohs” expecting to see Willard stretched out on the canvas.

JESS ABSORBS JOHNSONS BEST

But instead he straightened up unloosened a fearful right just below Johnson’s heart , almost sending the colored man to the floor. Jack realized he had shot his bolt after the failure of his terrific combination clout. Jess had taken his best and then delivered something just as good.. Discouraged and physically wearied Jack finally wore himself down to a point of exhaustion in the twenty-sixth when, Jess, comparatively fresh despite the scores of terrific blows he had taken, finished "Lil Artha" with his favorite right uppercut.

JESS A REAL CHAMPION THEN

Jess was the champion of the world and a genuine one. In the condition he was in that day it is doubtful if Dempsey at his best could have even disturbed Jess -with a punch. But can he attain that same wonderful form after a three years lay? That Is the question which makes the Dempsey battle interesting. Those who have seen him, say he has and perhaps it is so. But didn't they say the same of Jeffries when he prepared for the Reno disaster?

Willard's battle with Moran In New York is hardly worth mentioning Frank had no business in the same ring with Jess. But it can be said for Moran that he was a though one Jess broke his right hand on Moran's jaw trying to put the blond Pittsburger out. Some Jaw! But think
what a wallop it must have been.

Next weeks edition

Jack Johnson

Welcome to Sixth Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Saturday, 25 August 2007

Each new edition we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the Noble Science across the years. In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks Rob Snell, Manos & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com please visit our parent site http://www.crapboxingchat.com

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”
[email protected]

In the history of boxing there are few people who have generated as much controversy during his life as Jack Johnson. I would suggest that as much as the American public loved John L. Sullivan they loathed Jack Johnson with equal, if not more, passion. The following material is reproduced in full on the web site.

WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION AND DEMOLISHER OF "THE WHITE HOPE" (1878-1946)


WHEN STEVE BRODIE dived from the Brooklyn Bridge in 1886, his name reached into a wretched Negro cabin in Galveston, Texas, and so stirred a ragged Negro boy of twelve that he made up his mind to go to New York and meet Brodie in person. This flash of fancy, little as the black boy could have guessed it, was to lead him to the world's heavyweight championship, the most highly prized athletic honor since Onomastos won the belt at the thirteenth Olympic Games in 880 B.C.

The boy, John Arthur Johnson, L'il Arth'uh, as he was known to his companions, tried to stow away on a ship bound for New York, but was caught and put off. Finally, after several weeks he succeeded, but soon after the ship left, he was put off at Key West, where he found work as a sponge fisher in the shark-infested waters, and had a narrow escape from being eaten alive.

Boarding another ship, he was caught soon after it left port and handed over to the tender mercies of the cook, who worked him and beat him. Some kindhearted passengers rescued him and paid for his passage to New York, where he met Brodie, who befriended him for a while. He next found work in a stable in Boston, but while exercising a horse, it fell on him and broke his leg. While in the hospital he made friends who paid his passage back to Galveston, where he went to work on the docks. Here he met rowdy youths and crapshooters with whom he had fistfights, in some of which he was beaten. Finally, he whipped the bully of the docks, who was bigger and older than himself, and thus became the "champion." Leaving the docks, he went to work with a carriage painter, who was an amateur boxer and got him into fights whenever he could until he was the best boxer in the city, a reputation he was to retain in a fight with a grown man in a quarrel over dice. This man was so much bigger, stronger, and tougher than Johnson that his victory became the talk of the neighborhood and made him decide to become a professional boxer.

Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight champion, whose reign lasted from 1908 to 1915, was also the first African American pop culture icon. He was photographed more than any other black man of his day and, indeed, more than most white men. He was written about more as well. Black people during the early 20th century were hardly the subject of news in the white press unless they were the perpetrators of crime or had been lynched (usually for a crime, real or imaginary). Johnson was different—not only was he written about in black newspapers but he was, during his heyday, not infrequently the subject of front pages of white papers. As his career developed, he was subject of scrutiny from the white press, in part because he was accused and convicted of a crime, but also because he was champion athlete in a sport with a strong national following. Not even the most famous race leaders of the day, Booker T. Washington, president of Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, and W. E. B. Du Bois, founding member of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People and editor of that organization's magazine, The Crisis, could claim anywhere near the attention Johnson received. Not even the most famous black entertainers and artists of the day—musical stage comics George Walker and Bert Walker, or bandleader James Reese Europe, or ragtime composer Scott Joplin, or fiction writer Charles W. Chesnutt, or painter Henry O. Tanner—received Johnson's attention. In fact, it would be safe to say that while Johnson was heavyweight champion, he was covered more in the press than all other notable black men combined.

And, like the true pop culture figure, the way Johnson lived his life and, particularly, the way he conducted his sex life mattered a great deal to the public. He was scandal, he was gossip, he was a public menace for many, a public hero for some, admired and demonized, feared, misunderstood, and ridiculed. Johnson emerged as a major figure in the world of sports at the turn of the century when sports themselves, both collegiate and professional, were becoming a significant force in American cultural life and as the role of black people in sports was changing. Johnson arrived at a time when the machinery of American popular culture, as we know it today, was being put into place. Recorded music, which was to change entirely how music was made, sold, and distributed in the United States, came into being at this time. Movies were well established as a popular medium of entertainment at the time when Johnson became a big enough name in boxing to fight for a world title. Indeed, films were an important way for promoters and fighters to make money in boxing by showing the films of bouts in movie theaters. Boxing was, by far, the most filmed sport of its day.

The automobile, which became Johnson's great passion and the most celebrated piece of technology connected with popular culture, was part of the brave new world of the early 1900s, replacing the bicycle. And, along with this came the rise of spectator sports, which changed how Americans spent their leisure time: baseball was a long-standing craze, college football was growing in popularity, basketball had been invented. There was also track and field, the modern return of the Olympic Games, golf, tennis, bicycle racing, race walking, horse racing, and probably the most popular of all sports at the time, professional boxing or, as it was commonly called, prizefighting.


New York Times
26 December 1908

Negro's Punishment of Champion Burns Causes Authorities to End Bout.
DECIDED ON POINTS
of Saturday Morning's Battle In
Australia Received Last Night
in New York.
Heavyweight Championship Fight,

SYDNEY, Saturday noon, Dec. 26.



Jack Johnson, the big negro from Galveston, Texas is the world's champion, heavyweight pugilist. He won the title to-day in the big arena at Ruschutters Bay from Tommy Burns, the French-Canadian, who had held it since James J. Jeffries relinquished it, and after a chase of Burns that had led half way round the world.

The end came in the fourteenth round when the police, seeing: Burns tottering and unable to defend himself from the savage blows of his opponent, mercifully stopped the fight. Previously it had been arranged that if the police interfered a decision should be rendered on points, and referee Mclntosh without hesitation declared the big black man the winner, for all through the fight he had shown himself Burns's master in every style of fighting.

Burns in an interview after he had gone To his dressing room said: “I did the best I could and fought hard. Johnson was too big and his reach was too great."

Johnson appeared fresh after the fight, while Burns's eyes were badly puffed and his mouth swollen to twice its normal size. The Canadian fought a game battle and showed Indomitable pluck, but he was no match for the big- black Texan. The fight was for a purse of $35,000 of which Burns received $30,000" and Johnson £5,000. The ring was a 24-foot one, and Was pitched In the centre of a big arena built especially for the purpose at Rushcutters Bay. The bout was to have been for twenty rounds. The day dawned overcast and cool.

Thousands of persons from all parts of the country were attracted to the scene of the encounter, and many reached there Christmas night and slept in the open. .They came by street cars, automobiles, carriages, and on horseback, and at 10 o'clock this morning, one hour before the fight was scheduled to start, every seat was occupied. The crowd was estimated at between 18,000 and 20,000 persons, and It kept perfect order throughout the fight.

Before the contestants entered the ring, " Bill " Squires, who thrice has been defeated by Burns, challenged the winner. Burns weighed in at 108 pounds and Johnson at 192. The betting was 7 to 4 on Burns at the start, but it veered after a .few rounds to 2 to 1 on Johnson. The spectators conceded that Johnson's victory was due to his physical advantages over burns, his superior knowledge of the fighting same, and his unruffled demeanor while being taunted by the champion. The stakes were paid the men while they were in the ring.

At 10:42 o'clock Johnson entered the arena accompanied by his seconds, Sam Fitzpatrick, Mullins, Unholz, Lang, and 'Bryant. Wild cheering greeted him and the big black man turned and bowed to all four sides of the ring.

Just as Johnson took his seat Burns appeared. He was smiling and the plaudits of the spectators were even more enthusiastic than those accorded Johnson. Burns took up his position in the western corner of the ring surrounded by his seconds, Keating, O'Keefe, O'Donnell, Burke, and Russell. When the cheering had died down somewhat Johnson crossed over and shook Burns by the hand. The Canadian glanced at the big hands of the Texan and noticed that both were covered with bandages. Fearful that perhaps they might not be of the soft kind, he scrutinized them closely, but finding them to his satisfaction he made no objection. The announcement was made that if during the contest the police should interfere and stop it the referee would immediately give a decision based on points scored.

When Burns stripped it was noticed that he wore elastic bandages about his elbows. Johnson shouted across the ring half angrily: " You must take those off." Then the men met in 'the centre of the and for a few minutes argued the question. Then they retired again to their corners, but Burns did not remove the bandages.

From Johnson's seconds came the announcement' that their man refused to fight unless Burns took off the wraps around his elbows, and it looked as though there was a possibility of the fight not taking place, for Burns was stubborn and Johnson insistent on his point. The referee, however, here took a hand in the controversy and said that the wearing of bandages was not against the rules. Johnson still demurred, nevertheless, and Burns, with a show of Impatience, had his seconds unwind the tape. His action brought forth from the spectators a tremendous round of applause.

At 11:15 o'clock Johnson and. Burns posed for a moving picture machine, and, having received final instructions from Referee Mclntosh, retired to their corners. Then the battle began.

Welcome to 7th Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Saturday, 1st September 2007

Each new edition we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the Noble Science across the years. In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks Rob Snell, Manos & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com please visit our parent site http://www.crapboxingchat.com

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”
[email protected]

The Syracuse Herald
11 December 1918
Jim Corbett’s column



Thirty. years ago next February Jack McAuliffe battled with Billy Meyers in a contest that had a 'life or death aspect for, McAuliffe.

Jack at the time, held title as the lightweight champion of the world He had defended his crown against all comers and had whipped every formidable foe in the country—with one execution. And that was Billy Meyer; the "Streator Cyclone. The men finally were matched for a finish contest and it was put on in North Judson Ind A large portion of the crowd came from Meyer's home town -Streator - and this faction, together with several hundred toughs from Chicago, had vowed that: "Meyers won’t lose while
a bullet is left in our guns”.

Just to show they meant business that crowd arrived on the-battle scene armed with knives and revolvers while about two dozen carried sawed off shotguns "If you get rough with Billy I'll drill, you." shouted a man from the crowd. His sentiments were those of many of the spectators. those men had bet their last dollar on "the Streator Cyclone." - and they were there to cash their bets.

As Jack McAuliffe answered the gong for the first round of that fight he was faced by a situation such as few men ever have known in the prize ring. He never .had been defeated and he wanted to keen his record; clean: Yet. If h e won the chances were that he might be killed or seriously wounded.

He had bet considerable money on the outcome of the bout himself and he knew his friends had backed him : to the extent of more than $100.000. Jack knew that by "laying down “ he would be saved from maltreatment by the crowd, but if he battled to the limit of his endeavors the chances were that with victory would come to him-:shooting - and perhaps death.

Game, courageous Jack McAuliffe walked into that ring faced every man in that hostile crowd .and. then sneered in a way that said, to every man: "Go as far as you like boy but you can't stop me from trying to win this fight." Mike McDonald of Chicago was the referee of that contest. No squarer, gamer and cleaner sportsman ever lived. McDonald knew what conditions confronted McAuliffe and he was aware also that if he gave McAuliffe the best of it that he too might “get his”.

But. unafraid. McDonald announced; "I'm here to see that both men get a fair deal in this contest, I want the crowd to know that I won't stand for any monkey business from either side from the crowd. And that goes. Meyers, and McAuliffe started off rather slowly, devoting the early rounds to feeling each other out. Then both fighters cut .loose for a dozen rounds, only to rest for six or-seven rounds. After that McAuliffe took the offensive and kept it up for more than ten rounds. Time and again he had Meyer’s in a bad way but whenever he backed Meyers up against the ropes, one or another of the Streator thugs who had ringside seats, began to interfere with McAuliffe.

Frequently Jack's legs were grabbed A weight was dropped on his foot or Sharp pointed instruments were stuck into his legs whenever he got near the ropes. Naturally Jack kept away from the ropes as much as, possible thereafter realizing that continued, interference by the Streator men: might handicap him seriously.

Meyers, after that, continued backing near to the ropes. He knew that McAuliffe wouldn't press him too closely there. As round after round went by non-partisan members; of the crowd became disgusted with Meyers tactics. McAuliffe tried in various ways to lure, Meyers near to the center of the ring but the "Streator Cyclone" spent most of his time in the vicinity of the ropes. When McAuliffe occasionally .chased him to them, Meyers dodged by simply circling the ring on the ropes. Referee McDonald cautioned Meyers frequently, about his dilatory tactics.

When the twenty-third round, ended, without any real action having taken place in nearly ten rounds, McDonald said to Meyers: 'If you don't do some -fighting in the next round. I'll stop this fight and call it a draw.

A. draw was the best thing that Meyers had. been hoping for. Undoubtedly the action in the first twenty rounds convinced him that in a stand up fight with the wonderful McAuliffe he had but little chance. So with the beginning of the twenty fourth round. Meyers began skipping around the ring again avoiding McAuliffe in even possible way. Finally McDonald sent both men back to their corners and announced to the crowd “This fight is a draw”.

After the fight McAuliffe said “the luckiest thing that could have happened To me. That Streator crowd bet practically every dollar they had on Meyers to win .and I guess if I'd had beaten him and they'd have gone broke, there certainly would have been quite a bit of shooting around there”.

The Bridgeport Telegram 18 December 1927

Fight Is Stopped In Seventh Round After Referee had Warned Spaniard

Delaney Had Made No Protest When referee Stopped Bout , Crowd Of 35,000 Astonished

Yankee Stadium – New York - Starting a come-back in his debut as a full fledged heavyweight. Jack Delaney scored a hollow victory tonight over Paulino Uzcudun, the Spanish woodchopper, on a foul In the seventh round of a 15-round match. Coming on top of the disputed Dempsey-Sharkey battle and ending, by coincidence in the same round but with a different result, the finish aroused almost as much uproar and controversy.

Paulino was disqualified by Referee Jimmy Crowley after three warnings for hitting low with left hooks but Delaney did riot appear to be hurt by any of the blows. Neither had he made any protest when the referee waved Paulino to his corner to the complete astonishment of ringside critics as well as a crowd of about 35.000 spectators.

Delaney Piled Up Margin.

Delaney had piled up a substantial margin on points cutting and Jabbing his opponent with a clever boxing exhibition, but there had been little real action and comparatively slight damage done when the battle came to Its unexpected end. So dissatisfied did a big share of the crowd appear that fully 5.000 swarmed about the ring and booed the verdict while Paulino to show his annoyance, somersaulted and performed a series of acrobatic stunts while straw hats sailed about the ring.

While perhaps not quite as heated, because less was involved, newspaper opinion at ringside was sharply split as it was over the Dempsey-Sharkey fight. A majority of the critics, apparently ,while believing that Paulino had technically transgressed the rules, did not regard the infractions as serious enough for disqualification.

Referee Crowley. however, declared flatly he had no other recourse after Paulino had failed to obey his warnings to "keep em up" while Pete Reilly. Delaney's manager to support the referee's decision showed newspapermen a dented protective cup to show that the French Canadian had received blows in the region of the groin. To make it exact. Crowley and Reilly agreed that there were four low blows all left hooks.

Six Rounds Were Tame.

The finish was no more convincing to most observers than the six previous rounds of comparatively tame action, although there was no question that Delaney. In spite of being outweighed 16 pounds was giving the Spaniard an artistic boxing lesson and leading by a decisive margin on points. Four of the first six rounds went to Delaney while one, the second, seemed even, and the other, the fourth on Paulino's side of the ledger.

In the fifth and sixth. Delaney. showing at his best. Jarred Paulino several times with a combination of left jabs and right uppercuts. the weapons which the Bridgeport boxer found most effective in piercing the Spaniard's defense. Few of Delaney's punches, however. more than momentarily checked the weaving rushes of Paulino, who seemed unhurt as he charged In. head lowered in bull-like fashion and encircled by his arms in a protective screen that Jack found difficult to penetrate.

They were a picturesque and sharp contrast in style as they maneuvered, Delaney. bronzed, tall and handsome, boxing with cool confidence as Paulino head down or bobbing plunged to keep the fight at close range. Occasionally, as in the second and fourth. Paulino let loose the round house right that had knocked out Harry Willis a few weeks ago. Twice it connected with some degree of Solidness and once In the fourth round, sent Delaney flying back to the ropes. But the lighter man either laughed it of in a somewhat disdainful manner or danced lightly out of reach.

Delaney, getting the range with more effect in the fifth and sixth, not only shook his opponent with a few solid smashes to the head but brought blood from the Spaniard’s nose and mouth.

Continued Boring In

Paulino seemed little the worse for wear, however, as he came charging out in the seventh, boring in close. The referee's first warning or two seemed to be for Paulino's tendency to hit on the break rather than for hitting below the belt. This was not the case, he said, afterward.

On what he said was the fourth low blow, Crowley stepped in and shoved the puzzled Spaniard to his corner. There was a moment or two of confusion before the official decision became clear. Delaney walked to his corner and from the ring a few minutes later unruffled, unmarred by the conflict and seemingly unhurt In spite of his manager's explanation to the ringsiders. The finish came after 1 minute and 57 seconds of action in the seventh round.

Paulino's setback was the first he has sustained since he began a colorful invasion of this country's heavyweight ranks. Unless he gets a return match, however, it may mean his elimination from the punching parade which already is forming to determine next year's title challenger.

Delaney showed marked improvement over his last battle when he met decisive defeat at the hands of Jimmy Maloney in February at Madison Square Garden. The erstwhile "Rapier of the North." a stalwart ring picture, flashed all of his old speed and ring craft but In the few opportunities he had to land It, his punch did not appear to have the crashing power it has frequently possessed. He was barely out of the light heavyweight class, scaling 177 1-2 as compared with Paulino's 193 1-2

KNUCKLES AND GLOVES
BY
BOHUN LYNCH .

WITH A PREFACE BY
SIR THEODORE COOK

First Impression, October, 1922

CHAPTER IX
JOE BECKETT AND BOMBARDIER WELLS



AT the time of writing this chapter, Joe Beckett is the Heavy-weight Champion of England, and has been ever since the contest described below when, on February 27th, 1919, he first met Bombardier Wells. He is not a very good champion. His skill is not of the first order, and he has neither the height nor weight to supply his deficiencies. Carpentier disposed of him in a round, because Carpentier is incomparably the better boxer. Wells is also a better boxer so far as skill one might almost say " mere "skill goes, but as some one said of him once, " He's too bally refined," which is a better description of the Bombardier than most loose generalisations. He is too bally (and I might dare also to add "blinking ") refined, both in his style of boxing and in his appearance. The old-time pug-faced bruiser is dying out, not only because men no longer fight with their bare knuckles ,but because their skill is so much greater in defence than it used to be, that a broken nose is a comparatively rare accident; and modern surgery can make a job of the worst battered faces. Your opponent aims chiefly for those places which are most susceptible to temporary but overwhelming effect the jaw and the mark. The most terrific blows on either spot do not produce disfigurement. What is known as a "thick ear"is common enough still many amateurs have it: but Wells has managed to avoid even that.His profile might easily be called Greek at all events by someone who had once seen a photograph of Praxiteles' Hermes and had rather forgotten it. Even Carpentier, whose personal appearance is discussed much as a good-looking actor's, and by the same sort of people, looks, at close quarters, more of a bruiser than does Wells.

Punch chose to be amusing on this subject not long before the war, satirising the old and new methods of the manner in which celebrities of the ring were photographed. In one drawing you see the old bruiser, a doughty ruffian, stripped to the waist, with a flattened nose, beetle-browed, with a long aggressive chin, piggy eyes and short-cropped hair; in the other you have a smiling young man dressed in the last palpitating extremity of fashion, with longish hair brushed back from a somewhat noble brow, whilst beside him a beautiful young woman smiles into a baby's cot. The source of Mr. Punch's inspiration was not far to seek. In the old days a boxer was portrayed at his job just as actors and actresses were, because his job it was that interested people. And like actors and actresses he is still photographed at his job. But to-day just as you will see in the illustrated papers photographs of theatrical people playing quite irrelevant games of golf or making hay which has nothing to do with the point, so you will see photographs of feather-weight champions dandling purely inapposite infants. It is an age when people like to assure themselves (for some inscrutable reason) that show-people are just exactly like people who are not on show.

For good or for ill, boxing has become more and more a matter of exact science in which the quick use of brains has, to some extent, superseded purely physical qualities. And a new type of professional boxer has therefore been evolved. Nevertheless, it is worth observing here that the most important quality of all for success in the ring remains unchanged from the very dawn of fist-fighting, a quality possessed by Tom Johnson, by Jem Belcher, by Tom Spring, Sayers, Fitzsimmons, Carpentier what we call "character." Now Joe Beckett (to continue for a moment this unseemly discussion of other men's personal appearance) is in the old tradition of English champions. He "looks a bruiser." This is largely due, no doubt, to much rough and tumble fighting in his youth, when he travelled with a booth, which is still (as it has been in the past) a first-rate school for a hardy young bruiser. In this way he won a great many contests, which have never been recorded, and then began a regular career of no particular distinction in 1914. In the following year he retired after fighting Pat O'Keefe for eight rounds. In 1917 he was knocked out also in eight rounds by Frank Goddard, on whom, however, he had his revenge in two rounds two years later. He lost on points to Dick Smith, who was once a policeman and amateur champion, after a contest of twenty rounds. Indeed the people who beat Beckett were better known and better boxers than the people whom he beat. But all this time he was improving as a boxer and getting fitter and stronger.

When he entered the ring at the Holborn Stadium with Bombardier Wells he was, as they say, a picture. He was in perfect, buoyant health; a mass of loose, easy, supple muscle slid and rolled under his bronzed and shining skin, he was obviously eager and ready for a good fight.

Wells led off with his academic straight left, and landed lightly. Joe Beckett dodged the next blow, came close in and sent in a hot right-hander with a bent and vigorous arm to thebody. Wells doubled up and went down. On his rising Beckett went for him again, put another right on the body and followed it quickly with a severe punch rather high on the jaw which knocked Wells down again for a count of nine. Beckett ought to have beaten him then, but Wells boxed with great pluck and covered himself with care. During the rest of that round he never took another blow, and, after a rest, came up for the second fully recovered. Beckett rushed at him clumsily, trying to get close, and Wells used his long reach with much skill and promptitude, propping him off, hitting him with his clean and sure straight left, moving quickly on his feet, so that, try as he would, Beckett failed to come to close quarters. Just at the end of the round Wells gave his man a really hard blow on the chin which made Beckett exceedingly glad to hear the bell which announced time, And in the third round, too, Wells kept his opponent at a distance, boxing brilliantly, and adding up points in his own favour.

In the fourth Wells was really happy. He had suppressed Beckett, he thought; and sent a hard right-hander to the jaw which would have staggered less hard a man. But Beckett is very strong, and replied with a couple of body-blows, without, however, doing any damage to speak of. Again it was Wells's round. He had quite forgotten the beginning of the fight and how nearly he had been beaten then. He was acutely conscious of being the better boxer, and consequently underrated Beckett's strength and persistence.

At the start of the fifth round he was not prepared for the rush with which his antagonist came for him, so that Beckett got quite close to him before he could think about propping him away. Right and left came Beckett's gloves with a will into Wells's slim body, and then a short jolting blow went upwards to his jaw, and Wells went down. He was up again very quickly, not seriously hurt, and Beckett darted in again. This time Wells was ready and did his utmost to use his long reach. But Beckett's greater strength and his willingness to run a little risk told in his favour. He was fighting hard, but not wildly or foolishly; he ducked under the long arm and began to punish Wells severely about the body. Another blow on the head sent Wells to the ground for nine seconds. Wells rose feeling dazed and helpless, he tried to cover his jaw, but Beckett darted in and sent in a hard right over his shoulder to the point, and Wells was knocked out. And the Championship of England again changed hands.

A return match was arranged a year later, and on May 20th, 1920, this pair fought again for the Championship at Olympia. Beckett in the meantime had been summarily knocked out by Carpentier, but had himself knocked out Frank Goddard in two rounds, Eddie McGoorty in seventeen, and Dick Smith in five. He had become more confident, more adept. He was not a great boxer, is not now, and is never likely to be. But he had improved. Nor had Wells been idle. He had knocked out Jack Curphey in two rounds, Harry Reeves in four, Paul Journee, the Frenchman, in thirteen, and Eddie McGoorty in sixteen. This last was a terrific fight, but McGoorty was quite out of training. Wells had also beaten Arthur Townley, who retired at the end of the ninth round.

What I might call the cochranisation of boxing has now for some time past enabled vast crowds of people to watch, in comfort, altogether too great a number of championship fights. The popular excitement about these contests, or the majority of them, is largely artificial almost as artificial as the reputations of the "champions" themselves, the result, that is to say, of purely commercial advertisement. Of course, the case of Bombardier Wells is singular. Long ago, before the war, he had his hold upon the popular imagination (if such a thing exists), because he was tall, and good-looking, and "temperamental."

As for his methods, a friend of mine who used to judge Army Competitions in India, and who saw the All India Championship of 1909, used to say that he never knew a boxer who so persistently stuck to the plan of campaign that he had previously thought out as did Bombardier Wells. Perhaps that is the secret of his mercurial career : perhaps he always has a plan of campaign and sticks to it successfully or not, according to the plan of his antagonist. Wells's antagonists have a disconcerting way of doing something fresh and unexpected, and the plan is liable to be a hindrance. The most crafty boxer may have a plan which he prefers, but he is able at an instant's notice to substitute an alternative scheme suited especially to the caprice of the man he desires to beat. Carpentier does that. Wells, as already said, likes scientific boxing just as other people like golf, and he is apt to be disconcerted by fierce sloggers just as a golfer would be disconcerted (I imagine) by some one who invented and employed some explosive device for driving little white balls much farther away than can be done with the implements at present in use. Circumstances or the advice of friends pushed Wells in the first instance possibly without any special desire of his own into the professional ring. And people still flock to see him there, or at all events they did so in 1920, chiefly because the ring was, for him, so strikingly inappropriate a setting. Beckett, on the other hand, takes naturally to fighting. He is not nearly such a "good boxer," his style is not so finished as Wells's, his footwork, though variable, is not so adept. But he knows how to smash people, and I should say (intending no libel upon a gallant as well as a successful bruiser) likes doing it.

The majority of people who came to Olympia to watch the second fight between those men probably wanted Wells to win, for the inadequate reason that he looked so much less like a boxer than his adversary. They were disappointed. Wells began better than usual, for he seemed ready to fight: but his own science was at fault in that he accepted Beckett's invitation to bouts of in-fighting, when he ought to have done his utmost to keep his man at long range. Beckett accepted the situation comfortably, and sent in some hard punches to the body and a left swing to the head. During the last minute of the round Wells did succeed in keeping him away and landed a succession of fine straight lefts; but these were not hard blows, nor did Wells attempt to follow them up. Joe Beckett was imperturbable and dogged, but very cautious too. He kept his left shoulder well up to protect his jaw from Wells's right, and when he did hit he hit hard. There was no sting, no spring, no potency in Wells's hitting. And he was careless. He gave Beckett an excellent opening in the second round, which the new champion used admirably with a hooked left, sending Wells down for seven seconds. And he kept on pushing his way in for the rest of that round, once leaving himself
unguarded in his turn and inviting the blow with which Wells, if he had put his weight into it, might well have knocked him out. But the blow was too high and not hard enough. The third round was the last. Beckett gave his man a hard left, and Wells broke ground, somewhat staggered. They came together and for half a minute or more there was a really fine rally, Beckett hit the harder all the time, and presently with a swinging left to the body and a beautifully clean and true right hook to the. Jaw he knocked Wells out.

Welcome to 8th Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Saturday, 8th September 2007

Each new edition we will feature one of the fighters from our new and fast growing web site which, unlike any other site, provides fistic fans with the actual fight reports as published in the press from 1850 to present day. Whenever possible they will be reproduced along with the photographs used in the original article so readers get a real taste of some of the rich history of the Noble Science across the years. In addition we also provide wide range of articles written especially for the site by our small team of in house staff. Please visit our site you will not be disappointed and we look forward to your comments and suggestions on how we may make improvements to the site.

Many thanks Rob Snell, Manos & Grim.X
http://www.boxingbiographies.com please visit our parent site http://www.crapboxingchat.com

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”
[email protected]
Tommy Ryan 1911 articles

In 1911 Tommy Ryan wrote a series of articles for the Syracuse Herald entitled “Nineteen Years In The Ring”, the story of the life and battles
Of Tommy Ryan, retired middleweight champion of the world as written by himself.

It is I believe the custom to start a story of a persons life history with the facts of his birth. I shall doubtless surprise some of my readers by statements which I shall make in this as well as the other articles.

The general impression among ring followers all over the country is that I am of Jewish parentage. While I have nothing but the highest regard for that race , I am not a member of it.I was born in the little town of Redwood in Jefferson County, New York on March 31st 1870. My father was a Frenchman and my mother English I was christened Joseph Younges ( note the spelling, ) how I came to be known as Tommy Ryan will be made known in another article.

When I was a youngster my parents moved to Syracuse and I received my early Education in the public schools in Salt City. While I have been away from Syracuse at various times for considerable periods I still look upon that city as my home and will always be viewed by me as such.

However, the boyhood Joys and troubles of a youngster will hardly be of Interest to the great majority of my readers so I will pass over fifteen years by simply, stating that I had as many troubles and scrapes as the average youngster and managed to live through them. My fifteenth birthday found me as a water boy with, one of the construction gangs on the Toledo & Ann Arbor railway in Michigan.

The line was being constructed at that time, and it was among the railway laborers that I got my first smack of fighting. Camps were erected along the line of the railway several miles apart. Part of the equipment of every camp seemed to be a few pairs of boxing gloves, for men living a clean, healthy life. in the open are always followers of any clean, healthful sport, such as boxing is.

Prior to going to Michigan I had never seer, any regular boxing bouts. While I was in Syracuse a man named Meyers who used to keep a saloon on Railroad street and every Saturday night there would be a couple of short bouts in the bar room. . As I was a small boy at that time I was frequently kicked out. In fact, I was never allowed In the room when any of the men knew I was there. They say that boys will be boys, and when a boy wants to see anything he will generally succeed. I was no exception, and I managed by devious ways to see a few of these
bouts.

After I had been in the construction camp for a short time I was allowed to put on the gloves myself. Right here I want to tell my readers that the boxing glove of those days and the glove of to-day are entirely different things, though known, by the same name. The boxing glove of I885 was a skin-tight leather glove that was devised more for the protection of the hand of the boxer wearing it than for the protection of the man upon whom it was to be used.

Boxing seemed to come quite natural to me I was quick on my feet and could use my hands rather well I have never had a boxing lesson In my life, but experience Is the best lesson that any one can have. I was simply put up against a man and he went after me. It was up to me to look out for myself, and It was in such bouts that I learned the first movements of side-stepping, feinting and parrying that afterwards gave me a reputation in the boxing world.

Before I had been boxing many weeks I was able to outbox any man in the camp My fellow workers took considerable pride in my ability and
being but a youngster, I came to look upon myself as rather clever. It gave me confidence, something that is greatly needed to make a good boxer However, there is such a thing as being over-confident, but I am not going to take up that question here.

The various camps soon began to arrange bouts between their respective boxing champions – the best man In the camp meeting the best of an other. When such a bout was arranged The men from our camp would get out the hand cars and make the trip To the camp where the bout would be held.

I was taken the round of all the camps and was returned a winner In every bout. The bouts were all with the skin-tight gloves and such things
as rounds were unknown. There would be a signal to start, and it was a case of keep fighting until one man was knocked out or until one gave up. Some of those camp fights of mine lasted only a few minutes while others required a full hour. The bouts usually took place in a big mess house or in the open air. There were no padded canvas floors to fall upon, no skilled seconds to take care of you every three minutes . the floors were uneven, rough and hard. Stimulants during the bouts were entirely out of the question.

Part 2

Some early fights

When I joined the Michigan railways construction camps I was a bit backward in giving my name. I had run away from home and for want of something better I was known as the Syracuse Kid. After I had become champion of all the construction camps my friends began to look around for other men for me to conquer. The fact that I was the champion did not meet with unanimous approval In some of the rival camps and they began to offer inducements to get good boxers to take up residence with them.

It was in this way that one of the camps got a new cook. He was a fine built man and it turned out he had gained a little reputation as a prize fighter. His camp mates were just spoiling to see me beaten, while my own mates were not at all backward in putting me against the new man, who gave the name of English. Considerable money changed hands on the various bouts and my camp mates saw a chance to gather in some more of the surplus coin. The match was soon made.

Forty five minutes after English and I started our affair his seconds threw In the towel to signal that their man had taken enough punishment. I had not escaped myself but being quicker on my feet and as capable as my opponent with my hands I came out as victor.

With my reputation as a boxer spreading outside the camp it became necessary that I take some name or give my own .I was afraid I would be in for a good “Tanning “ if I gave my own name and my father heard about it so I took a name that seemed easy to remember. Tommy Ryan, the brewer, was mayor of Syracuse , my home town ,at that time. The name was easy to remember so I promptly christened myself “Tommy Ryan” and to this day I am known by in connection with ring affairs. There are few fans who would recognize my ring career under the name of Joseph Youngs.

Our camp was located outside of the little town of Marion, Michigan and the fight fans were very proud of a fellow named Joe Johnson. It was under the name of Tommy Ryan that I fought him and it was my first battle under anything like recognized rules. There were rounds and the old London Prize rules were to govern. All my other fights had taken place in a ring formed of the spectators.

Johnson was clever and a bit heavier than I. He also had a bit more ring experience and I found it a bit hard to get used to the rules. However, my foot work again came to my aid for I danced around Johnson after three rounds and knocked him out in the fifth.

This bout added to my reputation I became known outside of the construction camps and nearby towns and a few of the fans in the cities began to hear of “a clever and hard hitting kid in the railway camps”

Some sporting men in Cadillac, Michigan , heard of me and came to the camp to see me. They were satisfied with my showing and offered me a bout In Lake city , Michigan, with a fellow named Dick England. Dick worked in a lumber camp and was a great favorite. He had beaten a man backed by the Cadillac men and they were out for revenge.

For the first time in my life I was given some actual training to be in fit physical condition for the bout. I quit my job in the railway camp
And set out to be a real pugilist. The training I had was, in comparison with modern training, crude but I was in great condition for the bout.
Wagering on the bout was heavy. England was a real favorite and my Cadillac backers covered all the bets they could.

When the bout started I soon realized that I was up against the best man who had ever faced me. England was taking no chances and we both boxed wearily for a few rounds. It was by pecking Jabbing and getting clear that I gradually wore him down and I ended the bout in the thirty third round with a knockout. My weight at that time was around 128-130 pounds, but I was growing .My matches were mostly with light weights though in some of the Construction camp bouts I had to give away as much as thirty pounds.

Going to Detroit a group of sporting men their arranged to give me a. tryout with Ed Austin, a middleweight who was very popular there at that time. That my showing was satisfactory may be judged by the fact that I was immediately matched with the best lightweight of whom Detroit could boast at that time—Martin Shaughnessy.

Shaughnessy was a figure in the Boxing world; I was almost an absolute unknown. Few persons thought that I stood even a chance with the
experienced man, I was a stranger in a strange city. Still in my teens, I had a lot to learn about the ring game. I had no trainer, no place to train and no one to advise me.

I knew, of course, that I would have to be In fine condition to beat Shaughnessy, for such a thing as him defeating me never entered my head. Every morning I used to go out to the race track and have a long run. For a few cents I would get a boy to rub me down after my exertions and that was the sum total of my training.


If you were to mention the name T.A.Dorgan with regard to boxing I think few people would have any clue as to who he was. However , the mention of the name TAD would elicit a very different response. As a collector of old newspaper articles and cartoons I have long admired his work but not till very recently knew much about the man behind some of the best fight reports, and artwork, produced over some twenty or more years.

This lovely tribute to TAD was published on 23rd June 1929

Dry or Hilarious Wit, Near the End.

No man ever loved life more tumultuous, zestful, jovial life. No man ever had a harder fight to live at all. And "Tad" is dead. His "dime-a-dozen ticker." as he called his ailing heart, has ticked out., But T. A. Dorgan, the cartoonist whose sense of humor raised him into a class by himself in the affections of young and old everywhere, wouldn't want any "tear squeezing" now. He hated "sob" stories about him when he was alive, and his astounding courage, his uproarious vitality in the face of extraordinary odds, tempted many a writer to play up the jinxes that Tad conquered.

Tad had only one obsession—to keep as many people laughing, or at worst smiling, ns he could. Almost from the beginning of his career his cartoons took on. .They made people laugh at themselves and at their idols of Ring, Diamond and Turf.

When he was a small baseball playing Mischievous kid on the side street sand Lots of San Francisco , Tad wanted to become a great pugilist. He followed John L. Sullivan and Jim Corbett along the streets, appropriately worshipful. Then he had an accident while playing around a house moving job that crushed off four fingers of his right hand. That ended his pugilistic aspirations- but it gave America a great cartoonist.

He became a “Southpaw” – his own Coinage –and began a steady rise. Arthur Brisbane saw Tad’s talent and Tad became the great editors
Favorite protégé . Tad made millions laugh For twenty five years. He created his famous Animal characters, “Judge Rummy”, “Fedink”, “Reno Ruth” And “Bunk”, and he probably created more vigorous American Slang than any other man has – or ever will.

Eight years ago the doctors told Tad that he’d have to withdraw completely from the life along Broadway, at the ringside and in the stands that he had taken part in so long and joyously. He shrugged and kept on Drawing his cartoons: for eight years of seclusion. During which he couldn’t even walk upstairs in his Great Neck, Long Island home he continued To keep his pen attuned to the pulse of life. few of his vast Audience knew that he was less active than in the past.

Tad who’s phrases like “The cat’s pajamas” , “Yes, we have no bananas” , “cheaters”, “skimmers” and “as busy as a one armed paper hanger with the hives” ran from coast to coast and became virtually a part of the language was always fond of practical jokes. He could perpetrate them with an originality peculiarly his own.

For instance, Tad once gave Harry Hershfield, the cartoonist, Two tickets to a boxing bout in the old Madison Square Garden. Harry and another friend of Tad’s went to the match, passing Tad in the lobby. They had excellent box seats and after the fight tad came up to Harry and said “You’re the luckiest guy I ever hope to see. I gave you two tickets dated a year ago just to see the commotion At the box office when you presented them. But they let you in ! the jokes on me”

Again, Tad and Tom Powers, another famous cartoonist, once attended A six day bike race. On the way out early in the morning Tad got
Into an altercation with a member of the crowd who was trying to Shove his way out too fast .Tad “socked” him and the man called the police.
At the station house Tad gave his name as “Thomas Jones”. Later, when The jailer came round to let the cartoonist out – his adversary had not pressed charges – Tad had forgotten his alias and didn’t respond When the name “Thomas Jones” was called. He merely thought What a lucky fellow that man Jones was for being released.

To the last Tad kept an atmosphere of laughter around him – as well as in the Myriad homes where his drawings and sharp running comment were enjoyed. Death may hover always at the door, and that was the case throughout those Sequestered long years, but Tad could laugh and think up collapsing glasses and dancing plates with which to surprise his wife and mother. He Out gamed death. and his created and popularised have gone into the language of the English speaking world.

He had the American gift of skinning down to the point in the “balloons” ( the hand lettered words in cartoons and comic strips ) as well as in his drawn characters. He has joined the ranks of great native humorists and satirists like Nye and Twain and Riley and future generations will
absorb much of the spirit of his lifetime through his quarter of a century of contributions.

Strangely his last “Indoor Sports” published posthumously had in black Letters in one of the “balloons” “This will be the death of me”

Thank you for that, hours of reading there.

Looks like I am going to be using up alot of ink
and copy paper at work for this site ;)

Kym

Thanks, Robert.

thank you your support is much appreciated. we are getting around 1000 hits per week so thats good for such a new venture. As a result of setting it up I have been sent quite a lot of material which is a bonus. A feature I will add soon is a listing within the news letter of recent additions.eg photo of Dempsey etc.

Some other changes will come in by the end of the year with a bit of luck but its all down to time available etc.some will be talked about in one the next editions to evaluate what people think of the ideas.

Welcome to 9th Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter

Saturday, 15th September 2007

If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER”

[email protected]

The following articles in there complete form are available on the web site

Nevada State Journal

27 September 1942

Old time fight fans in Nevada, those who remember Tex Rickard and his early promotional ventures, probably consider the Jeffries- Johnson fight in Reno, on the Fourth of July in 1910,as the outstanding event in the state's Pugilistic Golden Age. From a financial point of view, the attending galaxy of "names'" at the ringside and the news significance of the upset that Johnson's victory brought about, the fight far exceeded in importance the loss of Jim Corbett's title to Bob Fitzsimmons at Carson City on St. Patrick's Day in 1897. But that was before Tex Rickard and the $100,000 purse he offered for the Jeffries-Johnson fight.

If those old time fans happened to see Joe Gans fight Battling Nelson in September,1906,at Goldfield and Kid Herman on New Year's Day at Tonopah in 1907, They say the Greatest Fighter Who Ever Lived. Gans won both of those fights. Nelson lost on a foul in the forty-second round when his rough tactics became too obvious and George Siler, the referee, had to call a halt. Gans had the Dane outclassed from the start but there are still a lot of stories going around about some "queer" things

about that fight. Even though he won, Gans got the smallest end of the purse. In his other appearance in a Nevada ring Gans stopped Herman in eight rounds. But winning those fights was not what made Joe Gans the Greatest Fighter Who Ever Lived.

Greater Proportion

In proportion to their numbers the Negroes have produced a larger percentage of great fighters than any other race. Today the greatest box office attraction is Joe Louis. And it has always been that way; when a Negro was good he was REALLY good. Tom Molyneaux, of the early nineteenth century days of blood and bare knuckles, left a record that compared favorably with any of the great English fighters. Molyneaux born a slave in Virginia, was one of the first Americans to take up pugilism, Later there was Peter Jackson for whom John L. Sullivan created the color Line, or rather the color line was created for John. Have it either way, but Jackson never got the crack at the championship to which he was entitled.

Then there was George Dixon, Little Chocolate who was a terror among the little fellows until too much gin and Terry McGovern got him. Joe Wolcott a, five foot high welterweight, would tackle anything that walked, regardless of weight or height. Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight champion, was considered by many to be the strongest and best defensive fighter of all the big fellows. Sam Langford. who could fight as a middleweight or a heavyweight, should have been a champion. No one would risk his title against him ,that's all.

Later on Kid Chocolate came along. He was a little Cuban Negro newsboy who learned to fight hustling sheets in the streets. of Havana. He beat everything that was dished up to him and fought almost every week, but the same as George Dixon, he liked gin and burned out at the height of his career. Everyone familiar with the sport pages knows about Henry Armstrong and what he could do, and still can do.

But the daddy of them all, the champion of all races, was a coffee-colored Baltimore boy named Joe Gans, who demonstrated with his two hands the perfect coordination that man is capable of developing between mind and muscle. If boxing is to be considered an art, Joe Gans is surely its Old Master.

Named by Tad

Gans was named the Old Master by the late Tom Dorgan, the famous "Tad" of the New York Evening Journal, "rubber stamp," "rubber check," "speakeasy" and the famous phrase, "Yes, we have no bananas." For many years Tad was a recognized Boxing authority.

About thirty years ago he asked fans to send into the office of the Journal the name of the man they thought was the greatest fighter who ever lived. Thirty years ago there were many fans living who had seen Sullivan, Jackson, Corbett, Dixon ,Dempsey the Nonpareil, McAuliffe, Lavigne, Fitzsimmons, Griffo,et al. But when it came to naming the man who combined everything that the others possessed as a single attribute entitling them to greatness, Joe Gans, the lightweight, was their selection.

Tad said of Gans, years later, “ He was the greatest fighter I had ever seen; never wasting a move, nothing was an effort for him. And he fought flat footed, getting his strength in every blow he let go. Also he was the most modest fighter I have ever met”,

About fifteen years later this writer asked the readers of the San Francisco Bulletin who they thought was the greatest fighter who ever lived. Another generation of fans had developed during the time elapsed since Tad had received the response from his readers in New York. Those 1926 San Francisco fans had seen Ketchell, Attel, Johnson, Dempsey, Kilbane, Jeffries, but the majority of them picked Gans as the best they had ever seen. If memory serves correctly, the letters favored Gans two to one over the others. When a fighter gets the nod from two such widely separated groups of fans over a period of fifteen years there must be pretty substantial material in the pedestal on which he stands.

Born in 1874,Gans started fighting in 1891and fought for eleven years before he won the title. Given a terrible beating by Frank Erne the champion, in 12 rounds in New York in 1900,Gans waited until 1902 before he got another crack at the title, when he finished Erne in one round.

When he was defeated by Battling Nelson, at Colma in California, in 1908,the long fingers of the White Plague had already started to choke him off. Two years later he was dead in Phoenix, Ariz. Joe Gans' monument is made of the milestones in his career that others pass trying to follow in his Footsteps. There can be only one Greatest Fighter Who Ever Lived.


Reno Evening Gazette

3 September 1906

The Fighters Touch Scales At weight

Ten Thousand Spectators that Trouble Will Ensue If

Any One Enters Ring During Progress Of The Contest



ARENA, Goldfield, September 3.

That part of Goldfield which slept last evening awoke early this morning to the brightest and most perfect September day that can be imagined.. At 9 o'clock nearly every resident of the mining town was on the main streets to greet the throng of visitors that had arrived on the trains during the night. That busy

artery of traffic; was soon congested, and at 9 o'clock, when the bands began to play, the various holiday sports started up and the crowd was fairly awake, the scene was one to thrill the most sluggish blood of strangers and “Old Timers” alike.

Every able bodied man in the state that could escape his business is in Goldfield today. Fully 3,000 from the east and west are also here.

At the restaurants and places of refreshment It is: impossible to get served without waiting in line. The crowd is of the most cosmopolitan character, Men of note in the world of literature, art, finance, mining, sport, and the other great fields of activity are rubbing elbows and struggling for places of vantage with the rough-looking miners and the most peculiar gathering of human flotsam and jetsam that ever added color to the lively scenes of a mining camp.

Goldfield is literally overrun. It is delirious with excitement . Judging By the large sales of tickets this morning the attendance at the fight will be in excess of 10,000. Nearly every sporting man In town believes that the fight will be fair, and it is generally believed that it will prove one of the greatest and most spectacular fights ever held in the world regardless of class.

The betting is strong with so much Gans money in sight that the odds are going to 10 to 6 on the colored fellow, and shortly before noon the deadlock that has practically existed in the betting for two or three days.

owing to both sides holding out for prices, was broken. 'Money began to change hands rapidly, and In most cases bets were made at odds of 10 to 8, with the negro favorite. The San Francisco delegation that arrived early this morning on special trains has a preponderance of Gans money to wager, and' It looks as If they will be accommodated by the short-enders.

The sports of the morning started off with a rock drilling contest on the main street in front of the banks and the Montezuma club. At the word of the timekeeper two husky Miners, bare of arms and chest, leaped onto the platform. One with a huge sledge hammer, the other with a drill. With ponderous blows and unerring aim the man with the hammer drove in the drill for five minutes, while the other held it straight with stoical indifference to the possibility of a false blow. Then they changed places, and the drill man swung the hammer. At 'the end of fifteen minutes time was called and the men, perspiring freely from their efforts, desisted.

The hole was measured and found to be exactly 38 ½ Inches in depth. A second brace of miners Jumped on the platform and tried to beat the performance. They failed, as did a third and a fourth, and when after a fifth set of men had only made 34 Inches the referee handed $500 in gold to the winner. There was loud and prolonged applause that strained fully 5000 husky throats.

Immediately it became necessary for 'half that number to "licker up," and a rush set in for the Northern, the Monte Carlo, the Palace, the Texas and a half dozen other popular places of refreshment that can only be compared to the first great rush to the Klondike.

Thus it was that the festivities of the day, the greatest day this little town of the desert has ever known, started off. Most of the crowd started to see the events which followed, the various races between contestants of both sexes, the burro race with Its laughable complications, and the greatest enthusiasm provoking event of the whole morning, the race between the two Goldfield hose companies. But a large number, and among them many of the well-known sporting men, climbed into rigs and automobiles—any sort of conveyance they could obtain to save themselves a walk along the white, hot, duty roads of alkali and set off to see the fighters.

The training quarters of both men were thronged from 10 o’clock on to lunch time. The confidence of the fighters wrought their respective Admirers up to a fine frenzy of excitement, and their was continual running to and fro of courtiers and betting commissioners. Wine flowed in the proverbial way and when under it’s influence men began to grow bold and brave, there was much talk of what would happen in the event of a “fake”. There was the usual amount of speculation during the morning of possibilities in this direction. Breathlessly it was passed from mouth to mouth that Gans had been offered $30,000 to “lay down”. Only the added statement that Gans had steadfastly refused all bribes allayed the feeling that flared up like a prairie fire in a gale of wind. The action of Larry Sullivan in severing his managerial connection with Gans at the last minute caused endless discussion and several suspicious ones were inclined to believe that there was “something behind it”.


Both nelson and Gans weighed in a second time at 1;30 o’clock. Neither one of them joggled the beam. They both wore the garb they will use in the contest. President Rickard has just announced that the actual size of the purse is $33,500 to be divided in the following manner; Nelson to get $22,500 and Gans $11,000.nelson would not agree to fight until this amount was assured him. This agreement has been kept secret until the present time as Rickard did not wish to interject any more angles than already had been “sprung”.

KNUCKLES AND GLOVES BY BOHUN LYNCH .

WITH A PREFACE BY SIR THEODORE COOK

First Impression, October, 1922


CHAPTER I

PETER JACKSON AND FRANK SLAVIN

Edited version

Frank Slavin, as we have seen, was one of those boxers of the transition period who overlapped. He had fought both with bare knuckles and with gloves. Both he and Peter Jackson were Australians, and both claimed the championship of that country. The contest at the National Sporting Club was said to be for the World's Championship, but that is a phrase which on no occasion means very much. All that matters for our present purpose is that the match was an important one between two fine and evenly matched men.

Peter Jackson has been called the "first black Gentleman." He was born in the West Indies in 1861, and went as a lad to Australia, where, in Sydney, he was a fellow-pupil with Slavin of Larry Foley, who in turn had sat at the feet of Jem Mace. Indeed, in the past, Slavin had himself given Jackson lessons in boxing. The black had only once been beaten, and in 1891 he had fought a draw of sixty-one rounds with James J. Corbett. In those days an unlimited number of rounds that is, a fight to a finish had not been prohibited in all the states of the Union, and this remaining custom of the Prize-Ring was much abused. The battle took place at the California Athletic Club, at San Francisco, for a purse of 10,000 dollars. It was a poor affair. Jackson hit straight, Corbett crocked. But the white man was cleverer than the black at avoiding punishment by clinching at the psychological moment. Often he refused to break away until the hissing of the crowd became a positive menace. For the last fifteen rounds there was no boxing at all. The men were utterly exhausted: Corbett had hurt an arm, two of Jackson's ribs were broken. The referee at last declared the fight a draw. He might just as well have done so much earlier.

The match took place on May 30th, 1892. The National Sporting Club had not been long founded, and its theatre was packed to its extremest limit. The contest was to be one of twenty three-minute rounds, and four-ounce gloves were used. Jackson's chief physical advantage was a slight superiority in reach, but it was known that Slavin's strength was prodigious, and his right-hand punch on the ribs, his best blow, was famous and terrific. He was a harder hitter than Jackson, and though up to the end of the sixth round his blows were not so many as his antagonist's, they meant more. Before the men entered the ring that night, Slavin said (Mr. Corri tells us in his book, Thirty Tears a Boxing Referee] :" To be beaten by a black fellow, however good a fellow, is a pill I shall never swallow.'

It is unwise to say that sort of thing.

It has been said, too, that Slavin taunted Jackson in the ring. However that may be, the splendid black man was confident in his quiet, unassuming way, and he at all events held his tongue. His method of fighting too, was orthodox and cool. When at the beginning of the first round Slavin came charging at him, Jackson put out his long straight left, and the white man was shaken by the blow. It was his policy to get close to Jackson so that he could bring off his tremendous body-blow. It was Jackson's policy to keep him away and to box at long range, and he did this. Some young man had once said to Jackson at the club: "They tell me you black chaps don't like being hit in the stomach ? " " Can you," Jackson replied,”tell me of any white man who does ?" But there is no doubt that negroes are, as a rule, weaker in the stomach than white men, unless like Jack Johnson, the more recent champion, they especially cultivate the abdominal muscles. No doubt Jackson knew, too, that one of Slavin's blows was worth two of his : but he boxed with quiet assurance and defended himself with vigilant care. Again and again Slavin rushed at him and tried to force his way close in: again and yet again Jackson propped him off, reserving his strength while Slavin dissipated his. Slavin was the favourite when the men entered the ring, but it is notorious that the greatest gamblers will, in boxing, back a white man because he is white.

Peter Jackson did not entirely avoid all the white man's blows, but his footwork was wonderfully good, and even when he failed to guard against them, he generally managed to be moving away when a blow landed, so that most of its power was lost. He seldom gave Slavin a chance to put in one of his regular smashers. And in the meantime the accumulated force of the black's many but lesser hits, together with the energy wasted by Slavin in futile charges across the ring, weakened the white man. Up to the sixth round it was any one's fight, though Peter Jackson was an easy winner on points up to that time. But what are points, after all, against one punch whether it is deliberate or "lucky," which ends a fight And Jackson very nearly fell a victim to just such a punch. He had never relaxed his vigilance, he never presumed on his opponent's weakness. He attacked when he saw a safe opening, and for the rest contented himself with holding Slavin well away with that beautiful long straight left. And yet at the end of the sixth round he was all but beaten. Frank Slavin was getting desperate. The men were fighting for a big money prize, but it is unlikely that the 1750 which would be the winner's share was foremost in the white man's mind as he strove in the ring. Jackson was a good black fellow, but he was black, and Slavin's pride of race was very strong in him.

Rightly or wrongly, he felt that there was a peculiar shame in accepting defeat from a person. But he knew that he would have to make haste. Good as his condition was, these six hard rounds had taken much of his strength. He drew every breath with labour: and though many of a boxer's movements, whether in offence or defence, are instinctive, the work was very hard work, his light boxing boots were like the boots of a diver, his knees shook a little as he stood still. He was very weary. But he meant to win. He gathered himself up and hurled himself at Jackson, and by sheer determination and weight forced the black across the ring to the ropes, and then with all his weight behind it he sent in his tremendous body-blow. Mr. Corri, who was sitting near the ring-side, tells us that it " seemed to spring from the calves of his legs and upwards to the muscles of his right shoulder and right arm." And, "I have never seen such an expression of consummate deadliness upon a human face as that which spread across the features of Slavin at this crucial stage."

The blow doubled Jackson up "like a knife." It caught him just under the heart and the sound of it was heard throughout the hall. The black man gasped and reeled. The onlookers were completely silent save for an involuntary " Oh! " which here and there forced itself to utterance. Had Slavin hit Jackson but half a minute earlier in the round he must have won. The black was helpless. Slavin must have finished him. As it was, before the white man could follow his advantage, the round ended, and Peter "Jackson and Frank Slavin Jackson had a minute in which to recover. In his corner, and loud enough for Mr. Corri to hear him, Jackson said to his seconds, "If he hits me like that again, I'm done." And his seconds worked on him, sponging, massaging, fanning, doing all that they could to restore him. When time was called for the seventh round Jackson, though no doubt weak, had recovered. He appeared to be strong and fit again, and appearances in these circumstances are beneficially deceitful. And in despite of his momentary elation in the last round, Frank Slavin came up tired.

But Jackson had to be careful, and he knew it. He did not lead, but kept his guard rigid, and "used the ring" that is, by brilliant footwork he kept out of danger, avoiding the ponderous and slackening rushes of his adversary. When the eighth round started, Peter Jackson had quite recovered, and Slavin was slower and more weary than ever. His weakness was evident. But it must not be thought that his was a mere exhibition of brute strength run to seed. Far from it. The white man boxed well, and he, too, kept out of danger. In the next round, however, Jackson sparred with great brilliancy, piling up many points, while just before the end he shot out a particularly good left. Slavin was obviously desperate now, and grew careless of the punishment he received, staking everything upon the chance of bringing off another mighty blow.

And yet weary as both were by now, they came up quite jauntily for the tenth round. Slavin shot out a fierce left, but it only just touched Jackson as he moved back. He rushed at the black man again, and this time Jackson avoided him altogether. Thrice Slavin dashed in with furious left and right quickly following each other. And the third time he tried this, instead of stepping back, Peter Jackson came in to meet him, and ducking Slavin's blows, planted his own left, followed by the right in immediate succession, on the white man's jaw. The second blow came over with terrific force, and Slavin reeled. But he still stood and swung wildly at his man without thought of guarding, his senses almost gone, and only a desperate pluck to keep him from falling. Jackson followed him and rained blows upon him, until Slavin stood still hardly able to lift his hands. Whereupon Jackson, good sportsman that he was, turned to Mr. Angle, who was refereeing the match, and raised his eyebrows. "Experience,"say the Annals of the National Sporting Club, "has repeatedly shown that there is always a punch left in a big man, even when he appears disabled. Dallying at such a crisis is dangerous. Jackson, however, turned round in the most chivalrous manner and looked at the referee. The rules of the game were beyond dispute. Mr. Angle said: "Fight on."

There was nothing more to be said:"I must finish him, then sorry, Frank," and with obvious distaste he went in. Even then in his anxiety not to hurt the man he did not hit hard, and Slavin took five blows before he went down. His courage was exemplary. He could so easily have fallen. He stood, however, and took the blows like the man he was. At the fifth he fell forward on his knees and in a blind, instinctive effort to rise again, not knowing what he was doing, he clutched Peter Jackson round the legs. But he could not rise. The ten seconds were counted. For the first time in his life Frank Slavin was beaten, for the first time knocked out.

And Peter Jackson took his victory quite calmly. Without a trace of swagger he returned to his corner, and, later, helped to carry Slavin, who was really ill, out of the ring.

Welcome to 10th Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Saturday, 22nd September 2007

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The following articles in there complete form are available on the web site

In this edition you will notice that I have included some links to the articles which I hope you will find a useful addition. In addition, and in response to your comments I have included details of additions made to the web site since the publication of the last newsletter. A further feature is the inclusion of an article from this week in History and to start this of I have chosen the fight between King Levinsky and Jack Sharkey held on 18 Sept 1933




The Kokomo Tribune
19 September 1933

Levinsky Wins Decision In Clash With Sharkey

Chicago, Sept. 18

King Levinsky won the decision over Jack Sharkey, former' worlds heavyweight champion, in a savage ten round battle tonight. It was the first bout Sharkey has fought since he .was knocked out , losing the title, to Primo Carnera three months ago.

Fight by rounds:

Round One

Sharkey with a 'sneer on his face came out to hook a left to the Jaw, but they tied up in a clinch. Levinsky threw a left to the body and cut loose with a wild swing to the head. He cracked a right to the jaw and floored Sharkey staggering him and then knocked him down with another right for a count of seven. Sharkey held on when he got up and wrestled to the ropes with Levinsky, Swinging punches from his hips. Sharkey drove a right to the jaw and Levinsky pounded him around the body. They traded body punches in midring with Sharkey retreating to the ropes.

Round Two

Sharkey began throwing punches .to the body with the Kingfish circling around him. Levinsky swung another wild right to the head forcing Sharkey to clinch. Levinsky cracked Sharkey with two, more driving the.sailor to a corner.

Sharkey teetered on his toes but managed to stay upright Sharkey dug a left to the body and hooked a left to the jaw. Levinsky backed into a corner with a left and right to the head. Sharkey drove short right to the jaw. They Continued to punch after the bell.

Round Three

Sharkey attempted to box at long range but the Kingfish bulled his way in close. Thev slugged furiously in midring. Levinsky hooked a left to the body and caught two lefts in return. Sharkey chased him to a corner and they fought it out on the ropes. Levinsky landed a heavy right to the body and at the bell Sharkey ran to a neutral corner looking for a place to sit down.

Round Four

Sharkey ripped a left to the body. They mauled at close quarters with neither doing Any damage, then Sharkey hooked a left to the jaw that spun Levinsky around. They slugged head to head with Levinsky throwing punches to the body. Sharkey connected with a left and right to the jaw before they tied up in a clinch. Sharkey drove both fists to the body and blocked Levinsky’s returns to the head.


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Wisconsin State Journal 13 June 1930

William Muldoon Disagrees, Believes Sharkey's Blow Fair

Tunney Calls It a Foul; Newspaper Men Almost Unanimous That Punch Was Low

NEW YORK, N. Y.



'William Muldoon, dean of the New York state athletic commission and co-donor of the Tunney - Muldoon heavyweight championship trophy, disagreed today with the almost unanimous opinion that Max Schmeling was fouled by Jack Sharkey in their titular bout at Yankee stadium Thursday night.

"I have to contradict all these young fellows, but in my opinion Sharkey would have been declared the winner by a knockout when Schmeling refused to answer the bell for the fifth round," the 85-. year-old boxing czar told the United Press.

. "The disputed blow, as I saw it, was a terrific left hook which landed just below the navel and was
perfectly fair. These physicians' reports don't mean a thing. Signs of a foul blow would not be evident in
a physical examination for several hours."

Gene Tunney, the other donor of the championship trophy, said he thought the blow was foul, and Dr.
William Walker, official commission physician, who examined Schmeling after the bout declared he found a distinct spasm on the left, side Schmeling's groin. indicating a recent blow. The physician said that "Schmeling could not produce this condition unless he was hit low.' Opinions of newspaper men who
viewed the bout from the ringside ; follow:

Frank Getty, United Press—"I was not in position to see exactly where . the blow in question landed, but
Schmeling is too good a sportsman to have been faking, and obviously was fouled. Sharkey was winning
all the way. and was most unfortunate to have landed this unintentional low blow."

Joe Williams, New York Telegram . I am firmly convinced that Schmeling was hit low and that the blow carried sufficient power to render him temporarily helpless. I don't agree that Max showed enough to warrant his being accepted as champion."

Grantland Rice, N. A. N. A.—"It was a foul and, although unintentional, had to be penalized."

Damon Runyan, New York American—"Any argument that the blow was not a foul is absolutely silly. It landed in the crotch and the follow through almost lifted Schmeling off his feet."

George Barton, Minneapolis Tribune—" I was not in position to see the punch, but I know Sharkey was winning up to that time. I've refereed bouts for 25 years and think if Schmeling was of real championship calibre he would have taken a rest and continued."

Ed Frayne, New York American— "The punch was foul but the decision was perfect and the best thing that could have happened for the boxing game."

Harvey Boyle, Pittsburgh Post Gazette, (member Philadelphia State Athletic Commission)—"The punch landed low and the rules had to be enforced. I think 95 per cent of the fighters who win bouts on fouls could continue, but it would be too much to expect a man to throw away his technical rights with a million dollar title already handed to him."

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The Syracuse Herald
3rd May 1911

Inside The Ring With Great Fighters

By Charley White

Frank Erne was a strong, sturdy fellow and he always believed in having plenty of food, whether he was in or out of training. He was particularly fond of heavy, rich foods, and he seldom sat down to eat a meal but what he partook of some light wine.

Erne's father, an old Swiss patriot, was a vineyardist at Zurich when Frank was born in 1875. As soon as Erne had made some money he bought a vineyard near Buffalo for his father. No matter where Frank might be his father always kept him supplied with home-made wines.

I remember the time when Erne was training for his fight with McGovern. Frank had agreed to weigh 128 pounds ; ringside, and as he was a full-fledged lightweight it seemed that he would have to diet .and abstain from drinking any more than be could help if he was to make the weight. He was training over at Oceanic, N. J., and one day I went over there to watch him do his training. I remained for dinner and saw Erne drink a Quart of his father's wine.

"Better have some of this; It's very .fine." said Erne. "Honest, Frank, I don't see how you can expect to make the weight if you drink so much wine," I remarked-to him "It don't hurt me at all—I work it right off. Besides, I've always taken wine with my meals." he replied.

Hard to Reduce.

But five days before the fight was to take place Erne started to punish himself terribly. It was cruel. I doubt that he either ate or drank anything: during those last days. Big weight forfeits were up, and he found "128" was almost impossible for him to make. As he dropped to the weight he found it impossible to do any roadwork. He was too light to do any boxing, and for hours each day he would sit out In the sun in
a rowboat, baking out every ounce moisture the heat could draw through his dried up frame.

Erne, when he found the bad condition he was getting into, should have called off the bout. McGovern was anxious to get a crack at Frank that he would have fought him at any weight. But Frank, a game and very sensitive fellow, believed he could whip featherweight Champion McGovern under any Circumstances. Besides agreeing to make the low weight it was agreed that Erne could knock out Terry in ten rounds or lose the decision. The fight took place before a record-breaking house in Madison Square Garden July 16th, 1900, and was one of the last big fights to be held before the Horton law went out.

It was terribly hot in the Garden that Night and there was not a man in the place who didn't remove his coat. Ten cent fans sold for a dollar. Eight thousand colored shirtwaists were exposed to view, and the sight was one never to be forgotten.

I had been chosen referee, and when The men were ready to weigh in I was on the job. Erne balanced the scales exactly at 128 pounds, and Terry was slightly under weight. As Frank stepped off the scales I felt sorry for him. Every blue vein showed through his skin, and it was plain he had made a bad bargain when he agreed to reduce himself to the stipulated weight.

Turning: to "Terrible Terry," Erne grasping- McGovern by the hand said: "There's going to be some hard fighting tonight . Terry" .

Terry's reply to Erne was: "Well. Frank, you can't stop me in ten rounds , you want to watch out that I don't get you."


New Material

Joe Gans

Reno Evening Gazette
3 September 1906
http://boxingbiographies.com/bio/index. ... &Itemid=28


Jack Sharkey

http://boxingbiographies.com/bio/index. ... &Itemid=30

Max Schmeling

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King Levinsky

http://boxingbiographies.com/bio/index. ... &Itemid=28

Frank Erne

http://boxingbiographies.com/bio/index. ... &Itemid=27

Welcome to 11th Edition of the Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Saturday, 29 September 2007

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The following articles in there complete form are available on the web site

This weeks special report is the fight held on 24 September 1924 Battling Siki and Georges Carpentier
APPLETON POST-CRESCENT, MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1922
Idol of France Defeated in 6th
Round of Twenty Rounds
Scheduled With Battling Siki New Champ

Georges Carpentier, the heavyweight champion- boxer of Europe and idol of France, was defeated on Sunday by Battling Siki, the Senegalese fighter, in the sixth round of what was to have been a 20 round bout. Carpentier never had a chance after the third round. He was barely able to respond to the bell at the beginning of the sixth. With his right eye completely closed and his nose broken, he was unable to put up a guard.

In the sixth the negro fighter planted a series of terrific rights to Carpentier's head and the French idol crumpled to the floor. One of his legs caught between the legs of the Senegalese while he was falling. The crowd, the largest that ever witnessed a boxing contest in France, was in an uproar. Many persons jumped into the ring and carried the Senegalese on their shoulders to his corner.

DECISION HIGHLY CHEERED

The referee, Harry Bertstein, at first ruled that Siki had been disqualified for "tripping," but the throng, which considered that Carpentier had been beaten squarely by a better man, received the decision with a great chorus of hoots and jeers and even threatened the referee with bodily harm. The three judges of the fight, Victor Breyer, Jean Pujol, Frenchmen, and Mr. Dennison of London, went in to consultation. An hour later they declared the negro the winner. Their verdict was received with terrific cheering from the spectators who had remained in the arena for it, many of them in an ugly mood. Carpentier had been hooted by large numbers of the crowd as he was taken from the ring to his dressing room.

CARPENTIER TRIED HARD

Carpentier tried every trick of his ring knowledge to stave off defeat twice he was warned for butting during the fifth round. It seemed evident that he was anxious to be disqualified by the referee rather than to suffer the ignominy of a knockout. When his subterfuges became apparent, the crowd which previously had been pulling for him, jeered and hooted, and cheered the negro.

So confident was Carpentier of ultimate victory, however, that he was smiling as he went to his corner when the gong ended the first round. "I'll get him whenever I want to," he said to Francois Deschamps, his manager and trainer. The crowd evidently was of the same opinion as Carpentier, for it lustily cheered Georges, the Senegalese not having landed a solid blow up to this time. "Georges is letting him stay for the moving pictures," was an expression heard from various spectators.

In the first round Siki rushed out of his corner and met Carpentier before the Frenchman was fairly out of his chair, Carpentier, however, caught the black man with two straight rights. Siki covered up, and then went down to one knee from a light left. The referee ordered him up.

SWINGS TWO HARD PUNCHES

Carpentier then swung two hard rights to the jaw. Siki took them merely shaking his head, and bored in. Carpentier's face wore a puzzled expression, although plainly he was holding back. Siki did not land a clean blow.

In the second round, Carpentier, with a look of disdain in his face, repeatedly jabbed Siki with his left without a return. Then, as Siki was rushing he caught the Negro flush on the jaw with a terrific right Carpentier drew back, expecting. Siki to drop under the blow. Siki however, instead rushed in and shot two hooks to the body. This surprised Carpentier.

Just before the bell Carpentier again caught Siki flush on the chin, but the Negro merely grinned at him and said: "You don't hit very hard, Mr. Georges." The round was Carpentier's by a wide margin, but the Frenchman was puffing hard as he wandered to his corner. Also he had lost his confident smile.

RUSHES TOWARD CARPENTIER

In the third round Siki rushed from his corner toward Carpentier. Carpentier backed away and sparred cautiously. Then he feinted with his left, and obtaining an opening, a hard right to Siki’s jaw. The Negro dropped to one knee and took a count of seven. Then he Jumped up and caught Carpentier with left and right swings to the stomach. Carpentier went down and took a count of four.

When the Frenchman arose he plainly was groggy. Siki, seeing his advantages, showered rights find lefts upon him, always playing for the stomach. He had Carpentier gasping for breath and staggering at the end of the round.

In the fourth round Siki pummeled Carpentier all over the ring. The Frenchman was barely able to withstand the punishment. He was bleeding, his right eye was closed, his nose was flattened and his mouth was wide open.

NO MARKS OF PUNISHMENT

In the fifth round Siki again sprang to the offensive from his corner, in tending quickly to polish off the .Frenchman.. Carpentier met the attack with a low blow and was warned by Referee Bernstein. The low blow seemed to enrage Siki, who went furiously at Carpentier, missing .numerous swings. Finally, however he caught Carpentier with a short hook and the Frenchman went down.

BUTTED SIKI IN STOMACH

Carpentier, who was near the ropes, gripped them in rising and butted Siki in the stomach. The Frenchman was helpless. Again he was warned by the referee for butting. Meanwhile, the crowd was yelling to the referee to stop the encounter. When the bell rang Carpentier groggily staggered to his corner. When the gong rang for the sixth round Carpentier came out hardly able to stand. A majority of the spectators expected his second. Descamps, to throw in the sponge, as the Frenchman was unable to put up his hands. A short uppercut from Siki sent Carpentier reeling backwards and then the Negro drove hard rights and lefts to the body. Carpentier crumpled to the floor half way through the ropes, completely out, after one minute and ten seconds of fighting.

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Dempsey-v-Jack Sharkey 1927
The Bridgeport Telegram
22 July 1927

Knockout Comes as Sudden Climax to Most Dramatic
Battle Ever Staged.
FOUL IS CLAIMED
Referee. However. Refuses to Rule on Claim—Victory Comes after Near Defeat.

YANKEE STADIUM. New York. July 21

The rip tearing Jack Dempsey of old came back tonight to smash his way to a spectacular knockout victory over .Jack Sharkey the young Boston heavyweight, and gained the height to ft return title match with Gene Tunney.

While a vast, deliriously excited throng of 82.000 spectators cheered him on, the former champion rallied after a wobbly start, bored through Sharkey defense with a clashing attack which brought the 24-year-old sailor , down for the count of ten in the seventh round of what was to have been a 15 round match.

A terrific right hook to the pit of the stomach doubled Sharkey up and a crashing left to the Jaw brought the Boston giant down for the fatal count after 45 seconds of fighting in the seventh round.

So close to the border-line was Dempsey's crushing left — the really decisive blow — that Sharkey started to claim a foul, only to go tumbling down In a moment from the impact of Dempsey's right hand. The referee, Jack Sullivan, at first seemed puzzled as what to do but finally decided to ignore the excited yells of Sharkey's seconds. He finished the count in unison with the official knockdown timer and waved Sharkey out.

Claim foul.

Sharkey's handlers persisted in their protests after the fight but their attempted action was drowned in the wild outburst that came from the huge throng, most of which had come to cheer the 32-year-old ex-champion in his colorful come-back.

It was a sudden climax to one of the most dramatic heavyweight battles ever staged, a slashing, mauling struggle in which Dempsey defying the craft and stamina of Sharkey's youth, demonstrated that he had come a long way back from the floundering form that cost him his title last fall.

Staggered and badly shaken up by vicious left hooks to the jaw toward the close of the first round and jarred frequently by Sharkey's stiff counter wallops. Dempsey fought on and won because he refused to be beaten back or balked Shaken as he was at first Dempsey had the resources to come back, keep plunging in. breaking through Sharkey's guard with short left and right hooks. His right eye cut and streaming blood, his lips split by vicious jabs. Dempsey nevertheless had the power to keep plunging in until he won.

TERRIFIC TWO

The vast crowd. which paid close to $1,100.000 to see the spectacle was thrilled by Dempsey's sensational, doggedly persistent fight to victory against odds that seemed all against him at the start. The former champion's old speed the fighting spark that made him the vicious "Manassa Mauler" of old seemed lacking as the fight began. The younger, speedier and more clever Sharkey outstepped and outboxed the Former champion and when he came in with a series of terrific blows toward the close of the first round the
end seemed in sight.

It was such a first round last September that had started Dempsey on his downfall at Tunney's hands. But tonight he had the stamina and gameness to fight back to a victory that seemed out of his grasp when the gong ended the first round and he wobbled to his corner.

Keeps Battering

Somewhere Dempsey had gained a new store of stamina. His old speed was not quite returned nor were his blows as sharp but he had the stuff to keep battering, flailing away at his rival, growing stronger instead of weaker as Sharkey tried in vain with hooks and uppercuts to beat the former champion off.

From the second round through the sixth it was a slugging attack chiefly to Sharkey's body while the ex-sailor tried to fight his way clear, ripping in left and right hooks that sometimes slowed up and cut Dempsey but which never stopped his persistent attack.

Blood spattered from Dempsey's eye under the impact of left jabs and he spat blood frequently from his mouth but it did not halt him.

The fury and bull-dog grit of Dempsey's drive enabled him to hold Sharkey even In the second round after the first had gone to the ex-sailor, and And outpoint his young rival in the third, fourth and fifth rounds. Sharkey carried off the sixth as he speared Dempsey with rights and lefts, sent the former champion back but the spirit of the old "Manassa Mauler" flared up in slashing finish that had Sharkey on the run at the gong and paved the way for the big climax in the first minute of the next round.

Until the finish Sharkey it seemed was the stronger as well as the faster of the two but he was beaten. Apparently because he fought almost exclusively on the defensive form from the first round on .Perhaps Sharkey's plan of battle was to lay back, holding off Dempsey until the latter tired, then leap to the attack. If so.he delayed too long and lost his chance of fighting for the championship of the world at least this year. If not. It was because he found Dempsey's attack too furious and persistent to offset or to counteract.

There was no question that Sharkey's hitting accuracy was far from its Usual high mark. His right, the blow that laid Jim Maloney low two months ago was short or wild. He landed It a few times especially the first and sixth rounds, but otherwise the bobbing, weaving Dempsey appeared to elusive a target to connect with. Sharkey had the youth and speed but Dempsey had the punch, aggressiveness, and stamina to offset his rivals assets.

Fight By Rounds

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Salinas Jack Burns

Tribune Page of Sports
13 Jan 1910
Jack Burns Earns Decision Over Tim O’Neil

JACK BURNS, the Salinas heavyweight and conqueror of "Gunboat" Smith, punched, pushed, fought and chased himself to victory over Tim O'Neil last night in the. Ten round main event scrap of the Oakland Wheelmen show. To say that the contest was highly interesting from the standpoint of boxing would be wrong. It was really too one-sided to become very interesting from that angle for Burns had the better of every round, with the possible exception of the first one.

The contest became a very absorbing one from an angle that had not been figured on, however After the bout had gone a few rounds and O'Neil had been floored with a stiff straight right-hand punch to the body, the Chicago lad evidently came to the conclusion that he was over-matched and his efforts from then to the end of the battle were devoted to lasting the ten rounds.

Burns tried in every conceivable manner to land the finishing punch on the stalling O'Neil, but his efforts were a bit ungainly and the fact that he -missed often with the well-meant punches he sent out for the head of the smaller man made the crowd take sides with O'Neil, and round after round the lad from the windy city was found on his feet and doing his best the spectators cheering as if he were winning.

O'NEIL GAME AS PEBBLE.

O'Neil certainly did put up a game battle and all during the last six round he displayed an ability to stall that would have done justice to an older an more experienced fighter . At times Burns hit him so hard on the head an body that he became dizzy and almost collapsed. Each time Tim would reach out with both hands, however, and as Burns crowded in with the hope of landing another and finishing blow, O'Nell would clinch him and before the men could be parted the hazy feeling would have left the Chicago man and he would be ready for another round of stalling.

Burns was at a great disadvantage last night for it is exceptionally hard to show well with a fighter whose objective is to stick the limit and who continually backs away from the firing line. When the men entered the ring both looked fit. Burns gave his weight a 185 pounds and O'Neil announced his at 170 pounds This gave Burns the best of the weight by fifteen pound: and he made use of it from the very first by going on the aggressive and keeping right at his man in every second of the going .

In the first round O'Neil started out with a will and showed well. In fact it looked as if Timothy was to be the aggressor and that he might win the contest on points.

LEFT RIP HURTS BURNS.

Tim reached in with a left rip for the body that landed with force several times during the first spasm and it looked as if Tim had discovered the right spot. Burns plodded on all the time and near the end of the round he landed a few stinging blows that steadied O'Neil and made him a bit careful. In the second and third rounds Burns forged ahead and took a slight lead by his continual rushing, and by landing an occasional punch.

In the fourth round O'Neil was holding his hands high to block the swings of the taller man, who seemed to be devoting all his energy to punching O'Neil's head. The shrill voice of Harry Foley calling, "Drop a few to the body" reached the ears of Burns and without much warning the Salinas man lowered a straight right punch to the midsection of the smaller man and quicker than it can be told Tim flopped to the floor.

It did not look as if he had a possible chance to get up and as the seconds rolled away the spectators began to leave their seats and rush for the door. At the count of nine O'Neil reached his feet and for the remaining thirty seconds of the round showed his gameness and ability by stalling the round out.

STALLING CONTEST.

From that time on O'Neil seemed willing to admit that he was no match for the husky lad from Salinas and the contest reverted into a match wherein one man was trying to put another out and the other had only one object, which was to stick the limit. O'Neil played the part so well that he soon had the house with him and at the end of the contest some of the fans had worked themselves up to such a point of sympathy for the red-headed lad that they remarked: "Well, he should have had a draw on general principles," when they knew full well that Timothy believed himself lucky to have lasted the ten rounds.

The contest was the most Interesting affair for a one-sided contest which we have seen in many days, and although beaten O'Neil proved that at 165 or 170 pounds he can beat a great many more men than will beat him .

Burns will go right back to Alameda were he will continue on in his Schooling in the art of boxing. The Salinas man is determined to reach the top of the ladder if possible and He will spend every cent he earns in the attempt to acquire knowledge of the game

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Young Stribling
Jefferson City Post – Tribune
16 February 1929

Here is the first chapter of the story of Young Stribling's life, written exclusively for the Post-Tribune and NBA Service, Inc., by Milton K. Wallace of Macon, Ga., a life-long friend of the Striblings. This series on Stribling's colorful life brings out interesting chapters never before revealed. Daily chapters will follow in this newspaper until the completion of the series

BY MILTON K. WALLACE

Regardless of whether W. L. ''Young" Stribling defeats Jack Sharkey in their Miami Beach bout on Feb. 27, and then goes on to win the heavyweight championship of the world, the young southern fighter will go down in pugilistic history as "The Hardest Working Heavyweight.".

Few men have fought as often as Stribling. Two years ago, the sports writers said he was washed out too much work and not enough play. But. today he stands on the threshold of the heavyweight championship.

William Lawrence Stribling was born in the little south Georgia town of Bainbridge Dec. 20. 1904. Contrary to popular opinion, he was not brought up under the "big tops" of a circus. His early life was much the same as that of the average American boy. He had a good home, respectable parents, went to school and attended church services regularly. "Ma" Stribling saw that her boys, Billy and Herbert, kept good company, and she applied the hair brush vigorously whenever either of them got into mischief.

Before the boys were born, Pa and Ma were vaudeville entertainers, doing an acrobatic stunt. Traveling around the country with two babies were no easy job. so they settled down for a few years until the boys were large enough to accompany them on the road. When but a few months old. Young Stribling was doing handsprings and flips, balancing himself in his father's hands, and countless other things kids three times his age could not do.

Ma Raps Pa's Plans

"I'm going to make a heavyweight champion out of Billy," Pa said just after the youngster was born. Ma objected! She didn’t want her son to become a bruiser she visioned him a doctor or lawyer who would settle down in Bainbridge or some other Georgia town where he would command the respect of the community in which he resided.

Then Herbert came along two years later. He was a frail little chap, in no way resembling his larger brother, but he, too, learned to do stunts on the trapeze, turn flips and balance himself in his father's hands. Then it was that Pa Stribling decided to return to the stage. This time there were four Striblings and they organized the "Four Novelty Grahams" touring this country and eventually Japan. The "Grahams" traveled a great deal, but always found time for the boys to spend a few months in school somewhere. Whenever the lads -were not in school, Ma tutored them.

The lure of the footlights is a hard thing to resist, actors tell , you, but Pa saw in Billy the making of a champion and knew that the hard life of the vaudeville trouper was not the proper one for a boxer. So the stage was deserted again after Ma had reluctantly Given her permission for Billy to take up boxing as a profession . Pa a good boxer, started in at once to instruct his progeny in the science of right crosses and uppercuts.

Pa Stribling saw in his son the fulfillment of his own cherished ambitions. Many years ago. He had dreamed of winning fame in the ring, but his short stature Handicapped him. When Stribling became 16, his father decided that his boy was old enough to enter The prize ring as a professional. He and his brother Herbert had done a boxing act together on the stage for several years and all this time Pa had been instructing them.

“My boy is going to be a world’s champion some day” Pa wrote a promoter in Atlanta, “but I am willing for him to fight for you on your card next Wednesday night for nothing. This is his first professional match and I am anxious to get him started. I want the chance”.
.
Of course the promoter took him up on his proposition. Even preliminary boys do not box for nothing, and the novel request resulted in Young Stribling's first real fight, a four-rounder. His opponent was Kid Domb, art Atlanta bantamweight, and Stribling won the decision. It is a coincidence that Tiger Flowers who without doubt was one of the Greatest colored fighters the world has ever knew, began his career in the same ring about three years previous to Stribling’s first battle.

The Atlanta promoter, well pleased with the showing of Stribling in his first bout, offered Pa Stribling $10 for another four-round preliminary. Pa, anxious to get Billy before.the public, and incidentally wanting him to have all the experience possible, agreed for his –son to meet Kid Nappie, a very tough young man, who had been spreading terror among the prelim boys in Atlanta. Nappie's chief weapon was a wild right swing that sent his opponents into dreamland whenever it lands and usually it landed. Stribling. however, knew too much for the bad boy and easily outpointed him.

After that his services were in demand all over the south, not as a preliminary boy, but as a star attraction. The records show that he fought 21 bouts during the year 1921, which year marked his advent into the boxing business. He won eight of these fights by knockouts and outpointed in the others.

Next Chapter: Stribling attends high school in Macon, makes the basketball team and meets Clara Virginia Kinney, daughter of a Macon cotton broker, whom he later marries.

Chapter two

William Lawrence Stribling entered Lanier High School, at Macon, Ga., after touring in vaudeville with his parents and took up the game of basketball. Ma put her foot down, though, when he suggested that he believed he had in him the makings of a great football player.

"Football is too rough," she said. "People get killed playing that game. You can box and play basketball, but you can’t play football”. 'So that was that, and all of Stribling's efforts at persuasion were to no| avail. She had finally become reconciled to a career of boxing, but she would not think of permitting her little Willie to mingle with the rough boys on the gridiron.

Although Stribling bears an outward appearance of being any easygoing fellow who never takes anything seriously, he is quite a determined young man whenever there is something that must be accomplished. He took basketball seriously made the team and developed into one of the greatest cagesters ever to represent Lanier. He was a dead shot with the basket and played a jam-up floor game in every respect

His last year in high school, Lanier won the right to represent the south in the national basketball tournament which is held annually in Chicago, and his team went into the semi-finals.

Was Kicked Off Squad

One of the greatest disappointments in his entire career was when the school board of Lanier High School ruled that he would be ineligible to play longer at the institution because he had engaged in professional fights. This disappointment hurt. him far worse than his defeats at the hands of Berlenbach and Loughran which came a few years later.

During his last year in high school, Stribling fell in love with one of his classmates, Clara Virginia Kinney, the only daughter of W. O. Kinney, wealthy Macon cotton broker. Miss Kinney's family for several generations, has played an active part in the historical and social life of the south. The romance ultimately developed into a marriage which met with the approval of both families, and they were married in the early part of 1926. Mr. and Mrs. W. L. Stribling II now have two bouncing youngsters, W. L. Stribling Ill, who is two years old, and Mary Virginia Stribling, who was born about three months ago.

Young Billy Stribling III has been taught all the tricks his acrobatic father did when only a few months old, and friends of the family are often given a jolt by seeing the youngster hanging by one hand from the chandelier. He is a chip off the old block, but Mrs. W. L. Stribling II says her son will never be a prize fighter. And it is doubtful if Stribling would want his son to follow in his footsteps.

Wife Sees Few Fights

Mrs. Stribling, while always interested in the outcome of her husband's battles, sees but few of them. She would rather be at home with her babies, listening over the radio to the result of her husband's battles. The Striblings, ever since their marriage, have occupied a pretty little home in North Highlands, one of the most fashionable sections of Macon. Young Stribling and his father own a country home at Ochlocknee, near Thomasville, Ga. where he trains for many of his most important bouts.

Machinery always has been Stribling's chief hobby. When in high school the mechanical course received most oft his attention and today he can intelligently discuss the intricacies of mechanics with an expert. He owns several planes, a speedy automobile, a motorboat and a motorcycle.

For a long while the Striblings traveled through the country by automobile to fulfill boxing engagements. They now travel mostly by air. Stribling loves speed and there are few people in his home town who care to ride with the young pugilist. He seldom travels less than 60 miles an hour and thinks nothing of dashing around a street car on two wheels or brushing a traffic officer's coat tail.

He Can Get Angry—and How!

Stribling is really a big, good natured kid, full of practical jokes and always playing them on his friends. He seldom loses his temper when the fun is directed at him.

The Striblings motored to Augusta,Ga., recently, for a fight and carried along a Georgia newspaperman who happens to be a bad actor when under the influence of liquor. Sober, ho is a nice chap, but this trip didn't see him in his sober moments. After the fight was over, he met Stribling in front of the hotel and challenged him. "Put up your dukes," the inebriated man said. "Come on, let's get going to Macon," Stribling told him. He doesn't tolerate drunkenness in any one, but realized the fellow was his guest. Bang! It was the writer's fist in Stribling's stomach. "Look out, you're hurting me," said Stribling, but that only brought fourth more smacks at him. He continued challenging Stribling, until there wasn't but one thing to do—and Stribling did it !

The fellow caused no more trouble.
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This weeks special report

The Warren Tribune
27 July 1928

Tunney Easily Retains His Crown
Pummels Heeney To Win By Technical Knockout In 11th
Round Of Championship Bout


Gene Tunney is secure in his niche today among the great fighters of history. A rebuilt Tunney, a Tunney with a punch,sledged his way to victory last night over Tom Heeney, as stout hearted a boxer as ever waged a hopeless fight. Referee Eddie Forbes stopped the bout after two minutes and 52 seconds of the eleventh round. Heeney was limp against the ropes and Tunney was measuring him up for a knockout. It would have been the first time in his career that the count of ten had been tolled over the challenger.

Heeney said he would carry the fight to Tunney and he did. Always he was lunging forward, flailing with his pudgy arms and taking two blows to land one. Heeney had only one punch, a lopping right to the head. Invariably he telegraphed it five seconds before it came across, by jockeying his legs into position and dropping his shoulder. When the punch finally arrived Tunney was not there.

The champion apparently tossed the first round away deliberately to sound cut his man. He was the Tunney of Philadelphia and Chicago, a faultless boxer who drove in a blow at long range and retreated before his opponent could recover.

Tunney Shows Punch

The change came in the third round. They were in a clinch when Tunney rested his head on Heeney's shoulder for a second and smiled wistfully as his eyes roamed across the vacant seats. When the bell rang for the fourth round Tunney had become a puncher.

Heeney came charging out of his corner, his granite jaw stuck out to invite a right cross. Tunney aimed for the jaw and swung, Heeney ducked and the blow caught him on the nose. Blood trickled out, and for the first time the challenger stood still instead of lunging forward. Then in he came and his slow right slipped harmlessly off Tunney's shoulder.

From then on Tunney never ran away. He stood still as Heeney came at him, mixing his rights to the head with murderous ]abs to the body All through the fourth and fifth rounds the champion vas driving his right into Heeney's heart.

Eye Closed In Eighth

By the eighth round Heeney's left eye was closed and his face was smeared with blood. But he kept coming in, a gory Cyclops looking for the two-eyed man who was pecking away at his eye and his heart.

The climax came in the tenth round. They met in the center of the ring where Tunney found the wobbling Heeney an easy mark for a lightning one-two punch that drove the challenger to the ropes. Tom slumped down into a half crouch, his, his arms crossed over his chest. His chin sagged. Then the scholar got the better of the fighter. For three seconds he stood there with his arms at his side, gazing at Heeney with a perplexed look on his face. A Dempsey would have been swarming over his man and driving in blows. But to Tunney the polishing off of Heeney was an unpleasant job. Someone at the ringside shouted.
"Get in there, Gene."

Tunney came to life, spun Heeney into an upright position with a left to the chest and stepped in with his right fist ready. Cooly, almost mathematically, he marked his target and sent the blow across like a rocket. That punch travelled three feet, but it knocked Heeney three yards. The challenger bounced on the canvas and rolled over once to land sprawled out on his back His eyes were glassy and he was gulping for breath Tunney stepped toward a neutral corner only to be stopped by the bell.

As Heeney came out of his corner for the next round, he automatically started that ceaseless lunging forward He had only a vague idea where Tunney was, and his sole
thought was to keep plodding ahead until he found him. Heeney does not carry a reverse gear.

Referee Stops Bout

His first knowledge of where Tunney was came when he felt a familiar jolt at his heart, followed instantly by a sledge-hammer blow against his jaw. Heeney probably will never know how he managed to last out the last round. His arms were loose at his side and he was taking it on the chin, head and body when the referee stopped the bout. The only trouble with Heeney last night was that he was outclassed. He met a faster, harder-hitting and craftier man, and the only thing he had to offer in return was his great, stout heart and a will to win. Tunney was never in danger.

Round One

Heeney came over to the champions corner to take a hard right on the chin Heeney landed a stiff right. The challenger rushed Tunney into a corner and landed two blows to the body. Tunney opened up with both fists to the head, but Heeney kept boring in. Tunney locked Heeney's arms in a clinch. The champion shot over a right to the jaw. Heeney landed a right and they clinched. Standing toe to toe the men traded blows to the head on even terms. Tunney landed a left to the body and a right to the jaw. The challenger hooked left to jaw, Tunney landed left to body but took four punches to the head in return. The champion shot a straight to the jaw, jarring Heeney Tunney met Heeney coming in with straight left. Heeney landed both fists to the head, making the champion dance away They were sparring in mid-ring at the bell. Round even.

Round Two

The champion came out slowly and led with a light left. They exchanged rights and clinched. With his back to the ropes Tunney sent Heeney back on his heels with lefts and rights to the head. Heeney kept moving forward but was taking a lot of punches to the head. They clinched. Tunney landed a stiff light to the jaw. They exchanged punches to the head. As Heeney moved in Tunney shot over a left to the head. A right to the mouth opened a slight cut on the challengers upper lip. Tunney brought up a terrific left uppercut but did not stop the game challenger who returned blow for blow. Tunneys round.

Round Three

Tunney landed a left and right to the jaw and they clinched. Heeney landed a light left. Tunney put a hard right to the jaw. In a clinch Tunney shot his left like a trip-hammer to the body. Heeney jarred Tunney with a right to the face and the champion backed away Tunney landed light left to face. Tunney began to rely on his left jab. He backed away from Heeney almost to the ropes. Heeney landed still left uppercut. Heeney almost floored Tunney with a left to jaw. Ripping both fists to head Tunney had to dance away. Heeney again rocked Tunney with a right to jaw Tunney started the blood flowing from Heeney's nose with left jabs Heeney put terrific left to body They were punching each other about the head at the bell and Gene said something as he went to his corner Heeney's round.

Round Four

They came out cautiously and Tunney backed away when Tom feinted with his right. Heneey landed a right and left to the face and took a left to the body in return. Tunney put left to the face and opened a small cut under the challenger's chin. Tunney shook Heeney with a left hook. Heeney drove a one-two punch to Gene's head. Tunney landed hard right to jaw and made the challenger clinch. Tunney put left to body and they clinched. Heeney landed two left lefts to the head. Gene scored with hard right to body. Tunney landed hard left to body. Heeney rushed the champion and made Gene back away. Challenger was bleeding from nose and a cut under the chin but was fighting viciously. Heeney drove the champion to the ropes with a flurry of body punches and was outfighting Gene at the bell. Heeney’s face was covered in blood as he went to his corner. Tunney’s round.

Round Five

Blood streamed from the challenger's nose as they came out. Tunney landed two light lefts to the head. Always moving forward, Heeney landed half a dozen punches to the head and
body. Gene shot hard light to the stomach. The champion missed a right to the head and they clinched, Tunney put left to the face. Heeney missed with both hands. Gene landed
left to body. They clinched and came out of it very slowly. Tunney staggeded Tom with hard right to body. Heeney put left to body, Heeney landed long left to ear as Gene danced away. Tunney missed with both hands as the challenger landed a right to the chin. Tunney half-fioored Heeney with left and right to body but Tom was up without a count. The challenger appeared to be in a bad way but continued to fight viciously. Heeney landed a right at the bell. Tunney's round.

Round Six

Heeney grazed the champion's body with a right. The champion landed a right under the heart. Heeney put a right to head. They exchanged blows to the head and clinched Heeney landed hard left to body and the champion backed off. Gene landed left and rights to the body. Heeney backed the champion to the ropes and took a left to body and right to head for his efforts. Gene was jabbing away at the head with both fists and cutting the challenger up badly. They clinched, Heeney landed a right to body and they fell into clinch. The challenger appeared to be a bit groggy as he missed a left to the chin. Gene shook Tom with hard left to jaw. The champion was fighting a superb battle and wearing the challenger down. They were in a light scrimmage in Henney's corner at the bell. Tunney's round.

Nevada State Journal
18 December 1952

New Champion Batters Loser
Over Full 15 Round Route

ST. LOUIS, Mo, Dec. 17.

Archie Moore, 36-year-old of San Diego, Calif, gave Joey Maxim a thorough battering tonight and wrested the world light heavyweight championship from him on a unanimous 15-round decision before 12,610 in the arena here.- Moore, who had been the scourge of the 175-pound division for nearly a decade without getting a title shot, made the most of his opportunity tonight in a fight that set a new Missouri gate record of $89,487.

Moore, wearing a wee mustachio and a small goatee, bulled Cleveland Joey to the ropes in nearly every round and there gave Joey a terrific battering again and again. Archie drove him to the ropes three or four times in every round.

Absorbs Blows

Maxim was streaming Mood from gashes on both cheeks and from a cut at the corner of his left eye when the fight was finished. Although 30-year-old Maxim suffered a bad beating, he amazed the crowd by his ability to absorb staggering blows to body and head and then try to fight back.

At 36, Moore was the second oldest man to win the title in the 49 year history of the light-heavy division. Bob Fitzsimmons won it at 41 on November 25, 1903, when he took a 20 round decision over George Gardner at San Francisco. Only the year before Bob had lost the heavyweight title to Jim Jefferies.

Challenger Explosive

Referee Harry Kessler scored tonight's bout surprisingly close after taking the fourth round away from Moore on a foul for two low blows. Kessler gave Moore 76 points and Maxim, 72. However, the judges saw it more lop-sidedly. Howard Hess registered 82 for Moore and 58 for Maxim. Fred Cornell favored Archie 87 points to 63. On a round-by-round basis, the United Press favored Moore, 12-2-1.

' Maxim, making his third defense of the crown he won from England's Freddie Mills on January 24, 1950, made his best showings in the third and sixth sessions. However, in most of the other rounds, the action showed a champion going down to defeat because he had a poor right hand whereas his challenger was explosive with both fists. A crocked elbow, resulting from an old break, prevents Maxim from throwing good, straight rights

Maxim, an upright boxer but a weak hitter, tried to keep the bobbing and weaving challenger Moore at a distance with left jabs. But Moore marched in and "rode Joey like a horse."

He forced the Cleveland Italian about the ring, always aiming for the ropes, where he could bend Joey back and rock him with lefts and rights to the head. During the forcing process, Moore battered Maxim's body until it was almost as red as his blood stained white trunks.

Moore, favored at 8-5, has a return-bout contract for a defense against Maxim in 60 days. But whether the thoroughly beaten Maxim would demand the return was a question. His wounds certainly will not permit a return in 60 days.

If Maxim does not demand the return, Moore may defend against Randy Turpin of England, former middleweight king. That defense would be at the end of six-months, permitting Dusky Moore to pick up some money in Argentina fighting non-title bouts.

Although the bout was one-sided, the closing sessions. The fans appeared to enjoy it and to be delighted with the victory of Moore, who was born in Toledo, O., but who launched his professional career in St. Louis 16 years ago.

The gate of $89,486 broke the former Missouri record of $56,907 attracted at St. Louis on January 16,1950, by the Willie Pep-Charley Riley featherweight fight. Promoter Emory Jones, the St. Louis representative of the International Boxing Club, was delighted with the receipts of. the seventh title fight In St. Louis history.

Moore, who was evaded by previous champions Gus Lesnevich and Freddie Mills,, and who didn't get the shot at Maxim until the New York commission forced the fight, Will be stepping into the footprints of some great light-heavy champions in the past. They include Fitzsimmons, Jack Dillon, Philadelphia Jack O'Brien, Battling Siki, Paul Berlenbach and Tommy Loughran.

In the dressing room, Maxim said he hadn't fought since his last defense against Sugar Ray Robinson on June 25, and that the nearly six months' lay-off was too long. "I needed this fight under my belt tonight," he said. "I'll be in much better condition for my return with Moore. Sure I want it.' Moore said, "I made up in 15 rounds what I had missed in 16 years."

Maxim suffered a beating tonight, but he was well rewarded with a guarantee of $100,000. Moore will receive 10 per cent of the net" proceeds which will include $50,000 from television and radio. Moore was favored at 8-5 after many fluctuations in the wagering during the past 24 hours.

Superstitious boxers


It is often said that pugilists, like gamblers and sailors, are superstitious. The coloured boxers are particularly so for some of them have been known to back out of a contest at the last moment because they ran up against a bad omen. Big Jack Johnson who is matched to fight Tommy Burns never enters the ring before hiding a rabbit’s foot in the colours he wears around his waist.

Joe Gans always put a lucky pocket silver piece, which he won in his first mill, in his belt just as he climbed into the ring. Joe Walcott once a giant killer never failed to have a miniature horseshoe tucked away in his breech coat.

John L Sullivan in all his battles wore a pair of green trunks, in the belt of which was a talisman which his mother gave him when he first entered the professional arena. Game Jack Dempsey, the Nonpareil would not agree to tackle the easiest kind of a match unless he had on his famous black tights in which he had won some sixty battles. But the tights lost their charm the night that Fitzsimmons knocked Dempsey out and also broke his heart.

Charley Mitchell the former, the former English champion, had a mortal fear of meeting a cross eyed woman on the day or night of a fistic encounter in which he engaged.

(The image comes to mind of friends of his opponent searching the streets and propositioning any cross eyed woman the came across to come and have real up close and personal encounter with poor old Eye Eye what’s up Charley ).

He always insisted that such a woman meant sure defeat. The night he was to meet Sullivan for the second time in Madison Square Garden Mitchell met a cross eyed red haired woman in Fifth Avenue and almost collapsed. He dashed back around the corner crossing his fingers several times. Sullivan as it turned out was in no condition to go to the Garden and there was no fight.

“It was that infernal cross eyed woman that queered the whole show” exclaimed Mitchell as he left the Garden. In disgust, for he believed that he had John L out of shape and was ready to beat the big fellow down and out.

When Jack McAuliffe was lightweight champion he always wore a pair of dark blue trunks. One night they were partially burned in a small fire at McAuliffes home and he was heartbroken. At last he decided to have what was left of the trunks made into a new pair which he wore in his memorable battles with Jem Carney, Young Griffo and Billy Myer the Streator Cyclone.

Bob Fitzsimmons is a believer in dreams. Long before he won the championship from Corbett at Carson City he predicted the victory. He said he had a dream in which he won decisively ..Fitz has since declared that he never won a fight without first having a lucky dream. Fitz also had what he said was a lucky charm that protected him from injury. It was the tip of a kangaroos ear and the Cornishman wore it beneath his belt in all his ring battles.

There are a great many pugilists who refuse to sign articles or agreements to fight on a Friday, “ Hangman’s Day” they call it. Among them are Tommy Burns, Jimmy Britt, Abe Attell, Billy Mellody, Dick Hyland, Kid Goodman, Sailor Burke, Packey McFarland, Owen Moran, Bill Papke, Hugo Kelly and Battling Nelson.

Some fighters are superstitious in regard to “Jonah” seconds. They dodge the handlers who have been behind losers. Some seconds seem to have a streak of bad luck and as a result they find it a difficult matter to get a job behind a good man. In some cases inexperienced seconds are preferred to “Jonah’s” John L Sullivan seldom acted as an adviser that his man did not lose. He was behind Dempsey when Fitz beat him; behind Mike Cleary when Mitchell bested him; with Joe Lannon when he was defeated by George Godfrey; with the late Spider Weir when he was knocked out by Australian Billy Murphy; and behind Peter Maher when Fitz put him away the first time in New Orleans. Sullivan like many fighters is a poor picker of winners.

Tommy Burns liked nothing better than to find a horseshoe when training for a battle. The horseshoe has made a hit with other pugs who usually nail one over the door of their training quarters.

Meeting a funeral is always regarded a Meeting a funeral is always regarded as a direful thing by pugilists. Sullivan met a funeral the day he was beaten by Corbett at New Orleans and he said then and there that he would meet his Waterloo. Other boxers are superstitious about lucky and unlucky corners in the ring. Some of them always try to enter the ring first so that they can secure what they believe is the “lucky chair”. It was often been the case that in a dispute over the favourite corner the matter has been settled by the turn of a coin


KNUCKLES AND GLOVES
BY
BOHUN LYNCH .

CHAPTER XVI
YANKEE SULLIVAN AND HAMMER LANE

IN one respect the most remarkable fight in the whole history of the Prize-Ring was an unimportant affair, so far as title or money goes, between Jack Lane, commonly known as “Hammer," and Yankee Sullivan, an East-End Londoner born of Irish parents who had emigrated to America. Lane in training weighed 10 stone 10 Ib. He was twenty-six years of age, and hitherto his most considerable battles had been with Owen Swift, whom he beat; and a black man who had taken the celebrated name of Molyneux, and who had beaten him. Sullivan was quite unknown in England. He fought at 11 stone 6 Ib., and had stipulated that Lane should not exceed 11 stone. The match was for 50 a side, and took place at Crookham Common, on February 2nd, 1841.

Both the men were in perfect condition. Lane was confident and smiling, Sullivan fiercely serious, as befitted a stranger with his career before him. Very little time was wasted in maneuvering. They came to the scratch, and Sullivan led immediately with his left. Lane guarded the blow and sent in left and right in quick succession, both being stopped. They were boxing well and cleanly, and there was not a penny to choose between them. The ground had been covered with snow which had been perfunctorily swept from the ring itself, but a thaw had set in and the grass was very wet. The first round ended by Lane slipping down.

In the next round Sullivan was in less of a hurry to begin, and waited to see what his opponent would do, and, when Lane hit, stopped him. They met in a rally and exchanged blows equally and Lane slipped down again.

The third round began with a couple of hard lefts from either side, one on Lane's mouth and the other catching Sullivan under the eye. They fought for a minute or so, but Sullivan's blows were very poor, for he hit with his open hand. Then Lane dashed in and threw his arms round his antagonist and fell, his right arm striking the ground under Sullivan's head. He at once felt a considerable shock. Something had happened, but he didn't dare say even to himself, let alone his seconds, what it was. He went casually to his corner. Both men were now considerably marked. Lane hit out with his left with less confidence than in the last round, and Sullivan stopped the blow, countering quickly on the mouth. In a rally it was noticed that Lane was guarding as well as hitting with his left, and he did it with remarkable precision. Sullivan aimed a tremendous upper-cut, and Lane jumped back from it, slipping down again as he did so, but rising again at once and going to his corner laughing.

The fifth round was short and equal. At the end Lane closed and threw his man. He came up laughing for the sixth and hit out vigorously. It was going to be all right, he said to himself. No one had seen anything odd yet, and he felt that he was Sullivan's master. He feinted with his left and sent in a very light right on his man's nose and then quickly sent out the left again. Then Sullivan set his teeth and forced Lane to a corner, and a hard rally began in which Lane hit with both hands. He tried a harder right this time and Sullivan stopped the blow with the point of his elbow. Then at last Lane winced and gave ground. The pain had not been so bad hitherto, but the impact of his antagonist's sharp elbow on his forearm was agonizing. But he was not going to show that he was hurt before he must. He went in again and plugged away at the body with the left. But his right hand dropped to his side, and it was at last plain to the spectators that he had hurt it. But he went to the attack again and again with his left, until Sullivan grabbed hold of it, and closing, threw Lane and fell on him.

What had happened was a rare accident and would have caused nine out of ten men to give in at once and without disgrace. At the end of the third round, as said, Lane threw Sullivan and they came down together with great force, their combined weight falling on Lane's arm, which was beneath his opponent's head. That fractured the radius, or outer bone of the forearm. At first Lane felt a severe shock, and guessed what had happened, but the pain was not severe until in the sixth round he hit with his right. But when, hitting hard, the blow was stopped by Sullivan's elbow, the pain was exquisite, and his forearm, already swollen, became too painful to hold up. The spectators, and no doubt Sullivan as well, did not know how serious the accident was, but it was patent that Lane had suffered some injury, and Sullivan's friends cheered him on to take advantage of it. Now Lane reckoned to himself that he knew more boxing and could hit harder than his opponent, and that if he could only do it quick enough he could thrash him with one hand. So he went in and smashed Sullivan's face with his left, drawing blood. Blow after blow he sent home much too swiftly for Sullivan to stop, and his cheek and eyebrow were dreadfully cut. Again the American's supporters yelled to him to fight.

"He's only got one arm. Goin go in!"

they shouted. And he accordingly went after Lane, who could only retreat, hitting as he went. Sullivan tried to close, and then Lane slipped down. His backers, seeing, as they imagined, nothing else for it, gathered in Lane's corner and declared that he must give in. Lane laughed the suggestion to scorn. He could beat Sullivan with one hand, he retorted, and utterly refused to throw up the sponge. At the call of time he was laughing again and went straight for his man. This time Sullivan was quicker to guard, and it was some little time before Lane succeeded in landing a blow. The American, to his undying shame, aimed a furious blow at the broken arm. Fortunately he missed, and Lane countered heavily on the body. Then, without moving his feet, he lifted his left twice to the face and hit with all his strength. Sullivan was nearly dazed, and, becoming flustered, missed his own blows, and Lane went down again.

It should be said here that though there was plenty of excuse for his course of action, Lane did continually, after his accident, hit and go down to avoid punishment. The referee, who was Ned Painter, the pugilist, should have been much stricter. A rule is a rule, however much sympathy the breaker of it receives and deserves.

The ninth and tenth rounds found Lane hitting furiously and Sullivan almost maddened with pain. His supporters claimed a foul at the end of the latter round on account of Lane's going down to avoid a blow, but it was not then, or subsequently, allowed.

And so the fight went on, Lane hitting and hitting again with tremendous power, Sullivan getting much the worst of it, each round ending by Lane's slipping down directly he saw danger. The sympathy of the onlookers was naturally with the injured man, than whom a gamer never went into the ring. In the fourteenth round Sullivan was getting wild, and Lane's heart was high with hope. He drew away, and the American came floundering at him, only to add his own weight to a dreadful straight blow on the eye which knocked him down.

In the sixteenth round Sullivan was almost blind of one eye, but Lane's hitting was now less accurate. The tremendous exertion of hitting with one hand, to say nothing of the pain in his useless right arm and the effort to protect it from further injury, was now telling on him. He missed one blow, and Sullivan, who had been given some oakum on his hands in order that they should remain shut, sent in a terrible right which knocked Lane down. In the next round Lane was hitting again, but got the worst of it. But his courage never faltered, and he came up with all the ardour of a well-trained and unhurt man beginning a battle. Again Sullivan landed heavily and knocked him down. Lane was now bleeding severely from a cut on his eyebrow. And then quite suddenly he weakened. He was looking white and worn out when he came up for the nineteenth round. He hit with a certain amount of vigour still, but could not stop the counter, and Sullivan, hitting him once more on the cut on his brow, knocked him down again. At that, since, though much damaged, Sullivan was evidently strong still and quite steady on his legs, Lane's backers gave in on his behalf. This amazing fight had lasted for thirty-four minutes.

As with Jem Belcher, after his second fight with Tom Cribb, Hammer Lane's chief concern was for his friends and backers who had put their faith in him. After this he did not fight again until 1850, when he had grown stiff and slow, and though Tom Davis, his opponent on that occasion, took over an hour to beat him, he did so decisively.

Rob,

Thanks very much for these, they really are fantastic! An incredible amount of research and effort has clearly gone into them. I haven't had a chance to read them all yet, but will work my way through them as I get a bit of free time.

Hope you are well mate.

Alex.