Fight:268529
Freddie Steele drew with Jimmy Britt by PTS in round 6 of 6
- Date: 1930-03-06
- Location: Greenwich Coliseum, Tacoma, Washington, USA
According to two newspaper articles found in Britt's scrapbook, and as transcribed by his son in April 2006:
1. Dan Walton wrote:
Freddie Steele, brilliant young Tacoma 138-pounder and Jimmy Britt, the pride of Bellingham, broke even in the six round main event of the Kays ring card at the Greenwich Coliseum last night. The decision split the house, many thinking Steele had enough advantage to entitle him to the decision, while others seemed think that Britt had the edge.
I thought that Steele had a slight margin. Steele failed to show as brilliantly as he has in most of his other matches, partly because of and injured left hand and partly because he was up against more opposition. Freddie opened up in the last round and had Britt retreating and it was this rally that entitled him to a slight edge.
Britt did most of the leading early in the match, but Steele was doing more than his share in the later rounds. Britt boxed nicely and presented a difficult target for the lanky young Tacoman as he ducked and dodged and blocked. Britt kept his hands up well and his chin in and Steele could not get to him effectively except on a few occasions and then Steele failed to take advantage of his openings. Britt had Steele missing more punches than he has in half a dozen previous scraps and several times stood Freddie on his heels with sharp counters. Britt, too, had the advantage on what little infighting there was as he is stronger than Freddie.
For a couple of youngsters inclined to counter punching it was a fast match with both showing a lot of class for their experience. For six rounds the youngsters, tall, well-built, handsome, displayed science, heart, brains, hitting ability and dash that is rarely seen in young boxers.
The decision was a draw--a call that satisfied, for had either hand been raised, I am free to confess that irate fans might have committed ruination to the ring and breakable parts of the massive hall. If any edge was to be given, I would award it to Steele, not because he is a Tacoman, not because Britt was inferior in boxing class, but because Steele carried the battle to his rival a bit more than Britt did to Steele. And because the sixth and last round saw Steele move out in front with terrific head and body blows and have Britt willing to back away at times from the bombardment.
But even then the edge would be slight--so why take anything away from either boy when they gave such an amazing exhibition, such a combat that every fan in the house thrilled to the marrow of his bones and rose to his feet in sheer excitement of this unusual display of fistic wares.
Offer Everything
The boys feinted, blocked, rolled with punches and used their heads with the skill and dexterity of veterans--and had sufficient war blood in their veins to be willing to stand up there, toe to toe and slug it out in frequent flashes with lightning, powerful blows that had their hearts wrapped up in them. Each scored terrific blows and each took them to come back in to the danger zone snorting and screaming with action. Nothing was held back, nothing denied in the kids efforts to beat the other through the building side. But it was all skill, no cruelty. Britt is a worthy rival for Steele…a better boxer, a better fighter than he showed against Jimmy Berk. Britt THINKS—and so does Steele. The youngsters are equipped with a world of ring ability and if they ever go to the post again in Tacoma, which I hope is soon, they’ll pack the Coliseum to the last inch it is easy to predict.
2. BETWEEN YOU AND ME
BY Elliott Metcalf
Britt’s demeanor, his fighting class has won him almost as many friends here as Steele can boast. Their contest last night was a collar-melter, if I may. It isn’t often that your servant, who has seen contests for years, waxes really “hot” over ring activities or other sporting events. But last night I became wild-eyed, intensely excited fanatic. You can believe this or not, but perspiration withered and ruined my freshly ironed collar of my shirt.
There was such action as one dreams of seeing, tremendous suspense, actually drama. Two handsome, wonderfully trained, skillful boys fighting to keep their places in the front ranks of their division, each giving every ounce of energy and talent, hardly ever faltering as alive and alert as two wary animals of the feline species fighting for existence in the wilds.
There are thrills in other sports to me, deep, natural thrills, but I’m free to confess nothing arouses me to such a point of excitement as a REAL, HARD, BRILLIANT fistic bout. It may be that the bestial instinct runs deep in my carcass. I don’t know what it is, but that is the truth. And the sweet part of it all is, I have thousands upon thousands, yea, millions as company. I wouldn’t have missed that bout for anything last night—and if you did, and you like the sport, you passed by something that you would probably not have forgotten in years—if ever.
Image of those newspaper articles.
