BOXING NOSTALGIA

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

Archived by the late, legendary

 Hank Kaplan

Incongruous though it may seem, practitioners of the obviously diverse professions of acting and prizefighting have always had much in common psychologically. Many actors have boasted of their past pugilistic endeavors, and equally as many fighters have given to a mysterious urge to perform on stage. Some have made the transition from one vocation to the other quite successfully.

Born in England in 1888, the son of a Scottish Clergyman, this brawny, adventurous lad, guided by a restless nature, enlisted in the Britis Army as a young teen to fight in the Boer Wars in South Africa.

Upon his discharge from the armed forces, he soon drifted to Canada, becoming a member of the Winnipeg Police Department. But wanderlust, and a quenching thirst for adventure, soon caused him to drift to the gold mining camps of the Northwestern Regions. Not particularly successful in his mining endeavors, he soon found his aggressive nature, and ample 6'3, 220 pound proportions made him ideally suited for participation in the miners favorite recreation --- fist fighting.

Deciding to explore the money making possibilities of this new-found occupation further, he soon left the mining camps, wandering down into the state of Washington, where under the management of one Biddy Bishop he became a professional fighter, making frequent appearances in the Seattle-Tacoma area. Proving to be a fairly capable journeyman,  he reached a pinnacle of this chapter in his varied life on March 10, 1909.

On this memorable day he engaged in the then newly crowned world's heavyweight champion, Jack Johnson himself, in a six round no decision bout in Vancouver. Well realizing that a knockout could bring him victory, and the championship, he gave his all in this contest. Fate, however, had other plans in store for our hero, and although he gave a creditable account of himself, he was  really no match for the brilliant Johnson, who gave the courageous 22 year old a sound thrashing, breaking his nose in the process.

Despite the fact that he was able to last the entire six rounds with so formidable opponent as the champion, his obvious inferiority to the titleholder so demoralized him that he decided it was a time to attempt a different manner of "earning his keep." He did return to the prize-ring once again ten years later, when in 1919, at the age of 32, he was convinced by a syndicate organized to sponsor him, that he could make a successful return to his former occupation. His comeback was brief, and disastrous! Knocked out by Frank Goddard in London, in just three short rounds, he quit the ring once and for all. Turning to vaudeville, the versatile adventurer engaged in a stunt and strong man act with one of his two brothers, eventually drifting into the motion picture scene. His natural aptitude for acting soon brought him the success he had relentlessly pursued -- he became a star! Among his countless screen credits -- What price Glory?, Gunga Din, and many others.

The colorful actors name --- Victor McLaglen   McLaglen in the Famous "Gunga Din"

Famed James J. Corbett began a simultaneous acting/pugilist career shortly after his classic victory over John L. Sullivan, and his ascension to the heavyweight throne ensued while appearing in a number of well received stage plays. Corbett's theatrical appearances continued long after his final exit from the arena, and acting remained his primary occupation throughout the remainder of his days.

Other than Corbett, probably the most successful transition from top-notch fighter to outstanding actor was made by one Lionel Canagata.

Lionel, born in New York in 1906, was an outstanding amateur boxer from the ages 18 to 21, winning both the AAU and New York State Welterweight championships. He seemed to have a natural aptitude for sports in general. Running away from home at age 14, his love for horses lured him to the racetrack, where he soon graduated from an exercise boy to a full fledged jockey, riding the east coast track circuit  with fair success. But his apparent ring glory (and weight gaining) eventually eclipsing his racing career.

Turning to the ranks of professional boxing in 1927, his name was mispronounced  in the introductions one evening, as the announcer stated "Lee Canada" Lionel kind of liked the sound of that, and upon further thought, decided he like it even the other way around, and from that point on he was known as Canada Lee.

Canada Lee

The old cliche "I fought them all" was quite appropriate when applied to Lee. Such battlers as welterweight champions Vince Dundee, Tommy Freeman, Jack Britton, and Lou Brouillard, as well as top contenders like Al Mello and Johnny Indrisano, were the caliber of opponent he very often faced. With many of his bouts unrecorded, it is estimated that he had engaged in over 175 bouts before his career was brought to a mandatory halt in 1933, when in a routine pre-fight examination, the New York State Athletic Commission doctor discovered one eye to be completely sightless. Never knocked out, and floored only three times in his career, Lee retired with pride.

Despite his handicap, Lee's fighting days were not completely over, for in 1935, he was engaged as a sparring partner for future champion Joe Louis, who was in training for his first big match against the former heavyweight champion, Primo Carnera.

His interest in acting occurred quite accidentally when an actor acquaintance persuaded Lee to participate in a YMCA production in Harlem. Always taking great pride in accomplishment, Canada soon showed great promise as a budding actor, and his participation in amateur stage productions became more frequent. He was finally given the chance to act professionally in a Broadway play called Native Son -- and he went on from there to triumph in plays called Anna Lucasta, and the Tempest.

Approached by motion picture scouts, Canada Lee's transition from stage to screen was memorable. Lee's classic performances in such films as Life Boat, and Body and Soul with the late John Garfield (Lee playing the part of an old boxer) brought him nationwide renown.  Exercising his remarkable talents to the fullest, Lee ventured into the realm of producing, and his play On Whitman Avenue, was well received.

Although it is often said, "all good things must come to an end" Canada Lee's talented existence faded much too soon, as he passed away in 1951, at age 45.

As far as theater is concerned, Lee was probably the best at it -- with boxing.  The most notables who have switched were Max Bear, Ray Mancini, and Randy "Tex" Cobb. What is your fond memory of a boxer who turned to acting?

(Kaplan)

Louis' revenge in the heat of the night.

Yankee Stadium classic has foe's from two backgrounds, two cultures

"Evil verses Good" the theme as Louis wins rematch

June 22, 1938. The date of a boxing classic that will remain in the hearts of America forever. The first match, held two years earlier, saw Germany's Max Schmeling defeat Joe Louis with a 12 round KO in spectacular fashion. "I see something, " said AAIB founder Steve Acunto, recalling the moment Schmeling stepped into the old Stillman's Gym to train for the fight. Ol' Max, the former heavyweight champion had a plan -- come over Louis jab with his famous right hand --- which would wear the inexperienced Louis down and ultimately be the deciding factor in the fight. The 10-1 favorite Louis would suffer his first career defeat because of his inability to cope with the veterans dangerous arsenal, one being a terrific right hand. Louis, exhausted, on both knees, just being ambushed on the ropes, took the count from referee Arthur Donavan  at 2:29 in the twelfth, ultimately humiliated in his defeat.

But this was two years later and Louis was a very confident fighter. Louis had won seven straight bouts and along the way a Heavyweight title with a 7th round KO over Jimmy Braddock in June of 1937.

The stakes were higher now, not because the Heavyweight title was on the line, but because the Nazi culture had infiltrated Europe and posed a political threat to the free world. Unfortunately, the gentlemanly Max was caught in the frenzy and was depicted as the pawn of a Nazi invasion. The Heavyweight Championship of the world never before meant so much to the voice of the people of America. To many Joe was not battling his conqueror two years prior, he was battling Hitler, Goebbels and the propaganda machine Germany had to offer. At the time Louis was the anti-Jack Johnson, a fighter who conformed to the boxing status quo and was well liked. He was also very talented and a devastating body puncher --- and he seemed to rescue boxing from the malaise it suffered after the Dempsey/Tunney era, where champions seemed to be exchanging titles every six months.  This fight, if he lost, would not only make Schmeling a champion again, but would bring boxing to its knees. Louis had to win, and win convincingly.

Joe did just that. The fight was not a contest. Joe was at his best, a tiger prowling his victim across the square until he was satisfied with the bloody mess he created.  There was no doubt as the sold out crowd at Yankee Stadium cheered with delight. Not only was Schmeling annihilated, but the ghosts of Hitler rising were eliminated, at least for that night. It did not matter what Schmeling had, Louis was not to be denied. Poor Max spent several days in the hospital after the fight and never was a factor in the heavyweight division again.

Joe went on to reign a record 25 title defenses over 12 years, retiring as champion in 1949. For personal and financial reasons, Joe made a comeback but was not the same fighter, quitting for good after being knocked out by upstart Rocky Marciano in 1951. Max may have gotten the better of life's deal however. He was more successful outside of the ring and even gave Louis money when the retired boxer was ill in the early '70's. Just think, of the 70,000 that filled Yankee Stadium that night, it is said that maybe 50 are still alive. Despite his fate and the evil depiction given him, Max is one of them, as he turns 98 on Sept. 28.  Happy Birthday, Max .

Sellica.

Schmeling, McLarnin a credit to boxing

Oldest living champs still a reminder of long lost boxing heyday

Their prime of life was devoted to the sweet science in the 1930's,when depression era politics were in bloom and the world faced danger across the vast oceans.  The scary thought of Adolf Hitler marching outside the White House coupled with an unemployment rate of 25%  did not fare well as a fan base for Germany's Max Schmeling, an icon heavyweight of the day and a figure America would love to hate.

In America, Jimmy McLarnin was having a storybook career campaigning as a lightweight and welterweight and retiring at 29 years of age -- with a half a million in the bank and another lifetime to live. The Vancouver, Canada native invested his money astutely and is now in his seventh decade of retirement, living in Glendale, California.

Both these fighters, as opposite as they were, are the last living legacies of 20th century boxing folklore as we knew it. Just think of all those fighters they fought, all the fighters that came after, and all the politics and boxers that came and went all those years ---- and they are long, long gone in this chaotic sport known for its survival of the fittest.

Schmeling was the villain in 1938 when he fought Joe Louis at Yankee Stadium --- he had knocked out Louis two years prior in twelve rounds (before Louis won the title) but this time Ver Max was questing to regain the heavyweight titles he held from 1930-32.  Politically, Germany was on the radar as a threat to world democracy, and Max was looked at as the bad guy. Schmeling was ambushed in one round, as Louis came out like a tiger and quickly demolished any thought of  a German occupying the boxing worlds biggest prize.

Years later, long retired, Schmeling helped pay Louis' hospital bills when the former champion was confined in Colorado. Louis died in 1981, and at the time many did not realize that Schmeling, along with others such as Frank Sinatra, helped Louis in his time of need. Although perceived as a arch enemy that night in 1938, the fact was there was not a finer gentleman than Max and that he had Jewish managers that contradicted the anti-semetic fever that was clouding Germany at the time. A Hall of Famer, the "Black Uhlan" fought from 1924-48,compiling a record of 56-10-4.

As for McLarnin, he was quite a story of what boxing should be. It pays to be good at the sweet science, but the pure fact is that "Baby Face" had an honest entourage that helped him immensely in his career. Guided by Pops Foster, this short can gently describe the relationship between the two:

Jimmy retired and got married. Foster, who never married , bought a house in the same housing development, and dropped by for a cup of coffee for the remaining 21 years of his life.

When Pop died in 1955, he left $286,000 . . . every cent of it to McLarnin.* 

The champ fought over 7 Hall of Famers and finished with a record of 63-3-1. He is the last Irishman to win a title in America, against Barney Ross in 1934, - a  mind boggling feat considering the outstanding talent that  has crossed the shores.

This is not as much as what took place in the ring, but outside of it. Remarkably, these two living icons are a reminder of what the sport should be ---  and of the better days gone by.

*Irishboxingnews

The Mystique of  Ernest ------ Tony Anthony

 Light Heavyweight the talk of his day

TRUFAN 2002

The era of the 1950's can reflect a time when fighters were fighters, they were in the ring to perform and came through all walks of life and fought in the controlled arena of professional boxing. We hear about the Robinson's and the Marcianos, but the decade of the 1950's was much deeper then the icons that represented it. There were hundreds of boxers that helped bring boxing to the TV medium, and they all had a character of their own -- in the ring, where it counted.

One such folk hero was Tony Anthony, a local New York City product that shared his skills with his audience, from coast to coast. Tony was born in Harlem, New York on February 6, 1935  and and started boxing in a Catholic Youth Organization Gymnasium. While he never became a Catholic, Tony used to slip into a church now and then and meditate. When he was 15, Tony won the sub novice lightweight championship in the Golden Gloves and a year later took the open welter title. As a National A.A.U. welterweight champion he qualified for the 1952 Olympic team.  Standing 6'1 and thin as a rail, Tony outgrew the welterweight limit and did not compete at the games. 

GOING TO THE PRO RANKS

Tony started his career by knocking out George Boddie in 2 rounds in Cleveland, Ohio. He was a middleweight and just 18 at the time. Although his career would only last eight years, he was a very part of the 50's boxing scene and an exciting fighter to watch. Winning his first seven fights by KO, Anthony developed a sensation as a sharp shooter murderous puncher who could box as well. His next fight would be disastrous -- stopped in 7 rounds by Miguel Mendevil in '53, then halted by Jacques Royer-Crecy and Willie Troy in '54; bombed by Bobby Boyd in '55, beaten by ageless Archie Moore in '57. In between, Tony proved to be dramatic, a fan favorite. Anthony was defeated by decision only once, and not until 1959. It was the decade of conservatism, and the public loved young fighters bred to show some courage and skill.

Tagged by sportswriters as a fighter with a "chin of china",  Anthony's bouts would end mostly in a KO for him, but as the saying goes, you were only as good as your record showed. A look closer into his losses we can see he was stopped on cuts to Mendevil, whom he floored three times while winning every round. As his manager, Ernie Braca,  would state, "fair enough. It could happen to anyone." 

Okay, but what about the fight with the Frenchman?

"Oh yeah" said Braca. "A year later we were in with Jacques Royer Crecy, the middleweight champion of France. We had him badly licked. In the 8th, the Frenchman tags Tony on the chin. My boy was a little glassy eyed and the referee stopped it. "He's a young prospect and I don't want to see him hurt" he told me. "That also happened in Jonestown, PA." 

" A place of disaster" shyly grinned Tony. "That's where they also had the Jonestown flood."  

In those other bouts Anthony had his opponent in serious trouble, only to get careless and get knocked out himself.

Unlike many fighters who are bred to secure early wins, Tony fought the top light-heavyweights of his day, and risking it in an all or nothing draw. The crowds loved it, and this is reflected in his high rating as a fighter despite the hard luck losses.

THEN CAME OL' MONGOOSE

With a big win in Detroit over hometown favorite Chuck Speiser in  May of 1957, Anthony was back on top of the title picture and ready to challenge.  Waiting for Archie Moore, Anthony signed to fight  Yvon Durelle, a rugged, stocky steel jawed Canadian. Even though Durelle had notched 69 wins in his tenure, Anthony was a prohibitive favorite. This was a nationally televised bout , and an impressive win would assure of the shot at the title. Durelle fought gamely and had the experience that would give Anthony a tough time. Even though Ernest would knock down Durelle in the 6th frame, he would backtrack and hold on to the hard punching Durelle ---- with the result a draw. Some thought Anthony was fortunate, feeling the aggressive Durelle did more to earn the win. Anthony felt otherwise, and demanded a rematch. Handler George Gainsford ended the talk by stating, "fight him in the streets if you want, we got a date with Archie Moore first."    

As history would prove, Anthony would get a rematch with Durelle, but would get a shot at the title first.

Tony Anthony would have 30 wins by the end of the summer of '57, Moore would have 157. In fact, Moore almost had as many losses and draws as Anthony had wins. Experience would be a factor, the experts predicted, but ol' Archie was 44 years young, and many felt it was his time to be taken.

 Twenty-two year old Anthony was stronger, faster, had youth on his side, yadda, yadda, yadda.

In Los Angeles on a September night in 1957, Ol' Mongoose Moore also had his fan belt from San Diego rooting him on. Anthony trained hard for the bout and was in tip top shape, but  Tony's trainer George Gainsford could not believe that his fighter was tight before the opening bell. "Just before we go on Tony tells me that he's tense. I almost died, but I made believe it was nothing. So I said, listen son, this is too big to be getting tense right now. Let's go." 

 Anthony started fast, laying it on the light heavyweight champion. He had been instructed to pummel the ancient one's midsection and Tony did just that --- and the cagey Moore liked what he saw. That is when it happened. "Moore started talking to him right away and my guy fell for it," remembered Gainsford. Moore said, "you're looking great. Keep up what you're doing. You're the next champion." Moore was talking like he was going to lay down. At the end of the third round, and leading on the scorecards, Anthony came to the corner and told his trainer :"I 'm pooped." Of which the trainer thought in response, "Here's a guy who has been training for two months and he's tired after three rounds. I knew we were through then. I wished there was a tunnel and I'd fall into it and get out of the joint."

In the sixth, Moore again whispered during a clinch " Tony, you look like a real champ," then stepped back and swung a left-right-left to the stomach and head. Anthony would survive the next couple of minutes, but he was out of gas and was to take a savage beating, somewhat deflating his glass jaw image.  If he had been a china chin he would have been knocked out long before the seventh round. It was just the experience of the Ol' Mongoose that helped him to his 158th win. In fact, a Los Angeles Sportswriter counted 48 unanswered punches by Moore before the end of the fight. Hard bitten Moore was so taken by Anthony after the fight that he had a long talk with the man he had just stopped. He gave Tony sound advice, not just about boxing, but about the business end of the game. 

DURELLE AND THE TRUMPET

Tony became all business after the talk with Moore. The next thing Anthony got was the rematch with Yvon Durelle, and Anthony trained harder then ever. "It was amazing what got into the boy," Braca said in wonder, " "He won't do anything or even think of anything that would interfere with his fighting. I never handled a fighter like that in my whole life." 

Anthony played a hot trumpet, not for the music, but  for the meditation.  "I don't know whether the trumpet is good for my wind or not"  Ernest would state, "Some say it is, others say no. But I do know one thing --- it helps develop rhythm and rhythm's everything in fighting."  

 Anthony's rhythm would cut Durelle down to a helpless hulk with a seven round KO, regaining a ranking among the leading light heavyweight contenders. Tony was blossoming at the age of 23,  and he would go on to beat Art Miller (KO 6) and stopped well regarded Orville Pitts (KO5), a fighter nobody wanted to fight, Cal Brad (KO 1),  and followed up with two wins over the popular Archie McBride.     

Anthony would not get another title shot, and Durelle did, getting beat by Moore in one terrific bout in late1958 and another in '59.  Then walking around at 185lbs, Ernest did not get a shot at Floyd Patterson, a teammate of the '52 Olympics. After splitting bouts with Alonzo Johnson, Anthony called it a career, age 25, in 1960. His final tally read 40-9-1, but it was exciting when it lasted. The mystique is that here was a guy who started young and retired early, a rarity in any era. He fought and met legends and traveled all over the United States in 7 years. Not bad for a guy who liked the rhythm of his trumpet.

NOSTAGLIA . . . REMEMBERING HEROES FROM THE PAST > > > BOXING TODAY...AND YESTERDAY . . NOSTAGLIA

MASSACRE CANYON, THE TRAINING CAMP OF OLD TIMERS

Just Wouldn't you believe it . . .

Before Big Bear, before the modern day training camps that dot the USA landscape, their was Massacre Canyon. The memories remain there.

Revised -- Boxing Illustrated 1972 -- by Bill O'Neill  

From pugilists early days, young men who fight for money have gone off to quiet, rural places, far from the temptations of the big city, to spend weeks or even months preparing themselves for their minutes of violent labor under the lights. 

Traditionally, a boxer's training camp is a lonely, Spartan place, designed for work and not for pleasure. The old time "camps" were usually just that: tents or cabins or farmhouses, located so deep in the sticks that you had to swing in on vines just to get to them. There the fighters of yesteryear ran, chopped wood, sparred in makeshift rings, and spend countless hours playing poker or gin rummy with their trainers and sparring partners. For excitement, their was very little to do other than taking in a sunrise or sunset.

One of the attractive training facilities for West coast boxers in the 1970's was the massacre Canyon Inn, a friendly old health spa and golf resort located in the picturesque San Jacinto Mountains of Southern California, a hundred miles southeast of Los Angeles. Massacre Canyon got its name from the tragic slaughter back in pre-bare knuckle days of one Indian tribe (the unfortunate Ivahs) by another, more warlike tribe (the Temecules) at a spot north of the resort. The region is famous for its hot water springs, said by Indians and the white settlers who drove them from the land to be good for all that ails one. 

The Inn, founded in 1913 by the three Gilman brothers -- William, Grant, and Forest, remains a cozy old recreation center that has been transformed into a modern gymnasium complete with spectator facilities. Once billed as "Grossingers of the West", the inn has undergone a change in image in recent years and is now known primarily as a golf resort.

Boxing first came to Massacre Canyon in the 1940's when the late Willie Orner, a well known West Coast Boxing figure who for many years was a proprietor of a gym in downtown Los Angeles, set up training camp at a small motel a half mile down from the inn.  Among the well known fighters who trained there at different times were Sugar Ray Robinson, Davey Moore, Don Jordan, Paul Andrews, Art Aragon, Cisco Andrade, Jose Luis Cotero, and Hedgemon Lewis.

Among the hangers on who came to watch the fighters work out was an over sized kid from down the road names Earl Gilman III. From the beginning, young Earl was fascinated by the skill, speed, and personal magnetism of the famous pugilists.

Later, Earl would gain recognition as an outstanding football player, both in high school and at Whittier College. But he would always remained "hooked" on boxing, and today he candidly admits that his greatest thrill in athletics came when, as a wide eyed 14 year old, he was given a few minutes of private instruction by the master himself, Sugar Ray Robinson. Earl also sparred on more than one occasion with middleweight contender Willie Vaughn, and, according to no less an authority than "Professor" Eddie Futch, might even have developed into a formidable heavyweight, had he so been inclined.

The first fighter ever to train at the Gilman resort was Elmer "Rocky" Beltz, a stiff punching welterweight who drilled there for his meeting with Art, the original "Golden Boy"  Aragon in 1953. Elmer was in terrific condition after six weeks of rigorous training in the smog free desert --- but he somehow forgot to duck when Aragon cut loose with a haymaker at the opening bell, and it was all over before you could say "Gilman Hot Springs." 

The Beltz debacle almost ruined Massacre Canyon as a fight camp. Boxing people, always a superstitious lot, were quick to form opinions concerning "lucky" and "unlucky" training sites. The Orner training site down the road was always "lucky" - and it was a matter of record that no fighter who trained there ever ran out of gas in a fight. But when Beltz failed to last a half minute against Aragon, it was rumored that the "Indian Sign" had been placed on him by the long extinct Ivahs of Massacre Canyon. Whatever the reason, it would be several years before another fighter would train there.

About 1970 the Inn made a small comeback. Heavyweight contender Jerry Quarry would train there, as well as Mac Foster, Richie Sue, Mike Quarry, and a highly touted prospect, Mike Nixon. According to Earl Gilman and Ed Jones, the hardest working fighter ever to train there was Jerry Quarry, as he prepared for his Atlanta fight with Muhammed Ali.

"Jerry was absolutely dedicated to winning that one" recalls Gilman. "He left here in wonderful condition, and I still think we had a good chance of winning had he not been cut so early in the fight. I guess it wasn't in the cards for him to win that night, but wow! What a shame to have it end that way it did, before he even got a chance to make it a fight."

Primarily used as golf resort, the Canyon did not present a rugged image of an old time training camp, it still was used for primetime gladiators for conditioning purposes. Eddie Futch, longtime advisor to Smokin Joe Frazier's camp, was sold on high desert country as the perfect place to take a fighter for conditioning. "I really like it here" said Jerry's younger brother, Mike "There a river nearby that is great for roadwork. The air is fresh and clean, the weather is nice and there's plenty to do from getting bored."

Quarry' trainer alluded to the fact that it got the fighter out of the city, away from all the distractions. But Mel Epstein, who used to train Nixon, would counter --- "Sure it is a nice place" the grizzly, bent nosed man stated, "but who needs the golf, the swimmin', the tennis and sauna baths, and the other stuff? Now, if you want to know about the real fight camps, and what they were like, let me tell you about a place in the north woods where Sam Pian and Art Winch used to take their fighters, out of Chicago . . ."

Gilman admitted to being a "boxing nut" who enjoyed the bouts in California and Nevada. But Massacre Canyon has a special place in boxing history, as well as the names that toiled in the sweat and heat of the California desert.

END

THE JINX OF THE LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHTS

(and the jinx that ended it)

EVERY SINGLE LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION WHO HAS TRIED TO CAPTURE THE HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE HAD FAILED.

TILL THE YEAR 1985. 

A look back at the jinx, and the jinx that ended it

TRUFAN 2002

Boxing folklore usually mirrors the times that society endures, and within the sport there are clues that are given of what luck and skill and determination can produce in a time, or at a critical time in history.

In baseball, it may be who would be the next to hit .400 or come close to the record 56 consecutive hitting streak. In basketball, one wonders if any man can achieve the record 100 points in a Game that Wilt Chamberlain set. In boxing, a heavyweight with the domineering character of a teenage Mike Tyson was positively identified as breaking Rocky Marciano's 49 win streak unbeaten record and also was a shoe in to eclipse Joe Louis' 12 year reign as undisputed heavyweight champion. Right?

Tyson didn't even come close. He was undisputed champion for a little over three years  (that's about the average) and was a beaten fighter in his 38th pro fight. 

Larry Holmes almost did it, but he was the victim (or reverse victim) of the jinx. I'll get back to that later.

There have been welterweight champions who won the middleweight title, featherweight champions who have won the lightweight title, and there have been middleweight champions who have gone on to become light heavyweight champions. But until 1985, no light heavyweight champion ever won the heavyweight title.

Eight men up, eight men down. Most for the ten count. One heavyweight champion --- Bob Fitzsimmons --- won the light heavyweight championship after claiming the heavyweight belt. That was in 1903, six years after losing the heavyweight belt to James J. Jeffries. In historical terms, this doesn't count. 

The first light heavyweight champion to ever attempt to wrest the heavyweight crown was Philadelphia Jack O'Brien. He was one of two light heavyweight champions who got a pair of cracks at the title. 

In O'Brien's first shot at Tommy Burns' title, on November 28, 1906, in Los Angeles, both had told referee Jim Jeffries (yes, the same man) prior to the bout that if both were standing at the end of twenty rounds, he was to give a "draw" decision. Each was so confident of winning that each felt the other deserved a draw if he should be standing at the end.

O'Brien had based his fight strategy on defense. At 5'10 1/2 he was taller than Burns, so the plan was to tie up and thwart off the bull rushes of the Canadian. During the bout, however, O'Brien would only be able to tie up one arm, while continuing to get pummeled with the other. Burns got the better of the exchanges and bloodied O'Brien's nose with a straight right hand. At the end of the 20th round, both combatants were still standing.  Many thought Burns won easily, and it was thought of by the promoter as "A shame to call it a draw." 

On May 8, 1907, again in Los Angeles, O'Brien was given a second chance to get the coveted title. And again it was one sided -- with Burns winning 19 of 20 rounds, blooding the face of O'Brien and gaining a unanimous decision. 

Boxing first million dollar gate was a match between heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey and Light heavyweight champion Georges Carpentier. The bout was scheduled for 12 rounds and took place at Boyle's Thirty Acres in Jersey City, New Jersey. Dempsey tipped the scale at 184, while the Frenchman weighed 168lbs. The first round was wild, with Carpentier testing Dempsey's courage with mid ring and inside slugging. Toe to toe, the crowd roared its approval as if it was the final round. By mid-round, Dempsey's eye was red and Carpentier was bleeding from a cut above his right eye. Just before the bell, the light heavy champ stunned Dempsey with a straight right hand.

Carpentier won the second round, but took such a beating during the first minute that would leave his face a mess. Even when he rallied with his potent right hand, it was harmful, because he broke his thumb in the process. At the end of two rounds, the slugging affair looked even, but the much stronger Dempsey had more in the tank and also could absorb what his opponent had to offer.

Carpentier, despite his handicaps, came out strong in the 3rd round, backing Dempsey against the ropes and slugging with both hands. Dempsey, by this time, figured his opponent out, hitting him repeatedly with overhand rights followed by left hooks. He was just too strong for Carpentier, and by the 4th stanza, the "Manassa Mauler" had Carpentier on the canvas. Rising at nine, Carpentier threw caution to the wind and attacked Dempsey, tearing in with left and rights. Dempsey upped his gear and obliged his opponent with vicious rights that floored Carpentier again, and out --- 1:16 of the 4th round. Explaining why he went back at Dempsey after the first knockdown, Carpentier explained," The man was a lion in the ring. I didn't want to get killed by a ferocious beast."

The Dempsey- Carpentier fight remains one of the classics in boxing history. 

On March 1, 1934, in Miami Beach, David vs. Goliath took place in a boxing ring. This time, with the jinx continuing, Goliath won.   

Primo Carnera was considered and incredible hulk of a man in his day --- 6'6 and muscular, the heavyweight champion was feared by many. The "Ambling Amp" had claimed the crown from Jack Sharkey by a vicious uppercut in the sixth round in June 1933, and was a 5-1 favorite to defeat the former light heavyweight champion, Tommy Loughran -- all 5'11 of him. Loughran was a superb boxer with a tremendous left jab, but had no power, KO'g only 18 opponents in 127 bouts. Loughran had given up the light heavyweight crown in 1929 to campaign as a heavyweight. 

Loughran's plan was to out hustle the giant, make him miss, get inside and out jab the 258lb. giant. For the first three rounds, Carnera had more thunder in his jab, and would simply push away the 184lb Loughran with ease.     

Loughran changed up on Carnera in the fourth round. Fighting out of a crouch and banging to the body, the Irishman put welts on the heavyweight champ's rib section. Loughran then staggered Carnera with a hard right to the face. Carnera, who wasn't that bad a fighter for a big man, fought his way out of trouble. By the end of the seventh round a cold rain had blown in from the ocean and so it seemed Loughran's chances. Carnera, relying on his heavy jab, neutralized Tommy's best weapon --his jab. Unable to volley and off balance, Loughran fought gamely and won many fans by displaying courage in the face of danger. Out on his feet, Loughran fought on, lunging and paying for it by eating left jabs. The final round Carnera teed off on his helpless foe, knocking Loughran from pillar to pillar, unable to put him down.   Although Carnera won, his "indestructible" myth was uncovered and he was viewed differently afterward, losing his crown a short time later to Max Bear.

LOUIS CHALLENGED

Five years later, an aggressive light heavyweight champion John Henry Lewis put his 15 bout unbeaten streak to the test against Joe Louis, the reigning heavyweight champion. Louis was a hot commodity, just defeating Max Schmeling in 1 round at Yankee Stadium, while Lewis was also hot, losing only once in 49 bouts. 

The match was short. Louis proved too much for Lewis, and the two hottest stars in boxing at the time fought less than three minutes, with the light heavyweight champion hitting the canvas three times.

John Henry Lewis retired from boxing for good at the age of 24 and a place in boxing history. He was also the 5th light heavyweight champion to fail at the challenge of the heavyweight title.

Perhaps the most intriguing match occurred at New York's Polo Grounds on June 18, 1941. Billy Conn, all 169lbs of him, came close to toppling Joe Louis' reign as heavyweight king. Conn was completely on his game, making Louis miss and look foolish at times. Through 11 rounds, Conn could do no wrong. His jab and defense was super. His footwork gave Louis fits. He was hitting the heavyweight champion at will, to the shock of the audience that was witnessing the event. It was almost a shutout and Conn was a confident fighter going into the 12th.

It would be as clear as a boxing lesson could be in the history in the world as we know it. Conn would come out and try to knock Louis out -- jolting through the Brown Bomber's defense with left and right hooks. At the round's end, Conn's corner begged him not to slug with Louis. All Conn had to do was box the final three rounds and the title would be his.

Conn had other ideas. He moved into Louis at the start of the 13th round and connected frequently. Conn now was challenging the legend's character, testing him to exchange. However Louis' punches carried more steam, and it became evident when he rocked Conn toward the end of the round. Conn held on but was dazed. After the clinch, Conn was defenseless and was hit with a right uppercut followed by two straight rights --- all hitting the mark. Conn was counted out at 2:58 of the 13th round.

After the match, Conn shrugged and stated "What's the use in being Irish if you can't be stubborn!" Louis dubbed a famous quote philosophical about boxing and life -- "You can run but you cannot hide."       

Ten years later, on May 30, 1951, Ezzard Charles, heavyweight champion, took on Joey Maxim, the light heavyweight champion, in Chicago. Although Charles fought some of his career against light heavyweight opponents, he never claimed the light heavyweight crown. He had claimed the universal heavyweight title by beating Joe Louis over 15 rounds in 1949. Charles and Maxim fought three times before, all won by Charles. The night would prove the same, with the sloppy, one sided affair going to Charles. Maxim was so bruised and beaten, however, that he had to postpone his upcoming defense of the light heavyweight title the following month. 

On September 21, 1955, Archie Moore and Rocky Marciano would fight the classic battle between champions. There were over 61,000 fans to witness the boxer-slugger "Old Mongoose" and the powerful hydrant in Marciano.

Moore started strong, bouncing left jabs off Marciano as the latter waded in. In the second round, a semi-cross put Marciano down. Bothered by the knockdown, Marciano arose, full of fight. He knew he was in against an experienced boxer and had to apply some kind of pressure to nullify Moore's superb skills.

Marciano's clubbing style was relentless. He wore down the light heavyweight's style, boring in, taking punches, giving them back. Rocky was in another world as seemed hypnotized for a KO. Moore, who was over 40 years old, began to tire. The Rock sent Moore down to the canvas twice in the sixth round, once for a four-count, another for an eight count. 

Archie was on the canvas again in the eighth round, but the bell saved him. In the ninth, Moore was a beaten fighter. Two left hooks dropped him hopelessly, arms draped over the ropes. Moore tried in vain to make the count, but couldn't do it. It was Marciano's sixth and final defense, his 49th straight victory, and final fight.  

Moore still believed he could win the heavyweight title. When Marciano retired on April 27, 1956, Archie announced he wanted another shot at heavyweight glory. Moore got the chance against a young upstart in Floyd Patterson, who seemed young and vulnerable to the Mongoose's experience.

There was never any doubt in the outcome, and the light heavyweight jinx would continue. Moore was too slow for Patterson's blazing fast peek-a boo style, and would find it hard to connect solidly all night. Floyd's crouching style was giving "Old Mongoose" fits and he was constantly beating Moore to the punch. A right to the jaw shook Archie in round 5, followed by a left uppercut that left the old man horizontal. Moore barely beat the count. A left and another right starched Archie at 2:27 of the round. 

On November 18, 1970, Bob Foster tried to get the "heavyweight" title from Smoking' Joe Frazier. Although Frazier was deemed the "champion" he would not get his undisputed tag until he would beat Muhammad Ali in March of the following year. Foster was annihilated in two rounds, thus continuing the jinx that lasted over 70 years. 

Later in the decade there was a boxing team that would be the darling of the '76 Olympics. It would consist of future stars as Sugar Ray Leonard  and Howard Davis, and a brother pair from St. Louis. The pair of brothers would later become heavyweight champions, a feat unmatched and unchallenged in the history of the division. While Leon Spinks would shock the world and win the heavyweight championship by defeating the faded Muhammad Ali in 1978, brother Michael Spinks would take a quieter approach to his career.   Primarily a light heavyweight, Spink's smart style would annex the light heavy crown in 1981 win a 15 round decision over Eddie Mustafa Muhammad, then would unify the title with a hard earned 15 round nod over Dwight Qawi (Dwight Braxton). Spinks' right hand was becoming reputable -- it was nicknamed "the Jinx" -- a coup de gra sort of speak that would put the icing on his opponents.

With serious opposition dwindling, looking for a challenge, Spinks "Jinx" deciding to take on the "jinx", now 85 years in the making  --- that proved the old adage was correct -- "A good big man will always beat a good little man ---- anytime."  The adage proved true to the oddsmakers, who made the champion, Larry Holmes, an overwhelming favorite in their 1985 title tilt.  However, by 1985, Holmes was slowing down, and had been defending his title for seven long years. It seemed to some that Holmes  could be taken, especially by a faster, lighter fighter. But they said it before -- they said the same in 1906, 1941, etc. but the "jinx" always prevailed. Spinks' also had extra motivation, for Holmes had savagely beaten his brother Leon in three rounds two years prior.

In a clever bout that favored the challenger, Spinks copped a disputed decision, ending the 'jinx". Holmes was at times slow and let too many rounds slip by. The elusive Spinks would then take advantage between rounds 12-15 and would counter effectively, ending Holmes reign and his quest to tie Rocky Marciano's record. The decision was unanimous yet highly controversial  The Spinks' "Jinx" had ended over 80 years of talk and banter and wondering. In the rematch, Spinks proved the first bout was no fluke by defeating Holmes (again a  disputed decision) again.        

The "Jinx" however, retired in 1988 after his KO loss to upstart teenage sensation Mike Tyson. Spinks is in the Hall of Fame and my guess is that beating the "jinx" is a major reason. The light heavyweight jinx seems to have come back and even a brilliant fighter such as Roy Jones Jr. have not dared to test it. I don't blame Roy -- as you can see, history is not on his side.

It has been seventeen years since Spink's phenomenal feat. It may be far-fetched, but as sports goes, it can be comparable to hitting .400.  It may be more than 85 years from now that some fighter may somehow duplicate the feat again. But history tells us it may never happen again.

THE CAT

NOSTAGLIA/NOSTAGLIA/NOSTAGLIA/NOSTALGIA/NOSTAGLIA

The Boilermaker

by Johnny Boyle

SAYONARA ROLLIE

(reprinted from The Afterburner, March 4, 1959)

You'll have to go a long way to meet a finer guy than Rollie Hackmer. To readers who have not had the distinct pleasure of being acquainted with the guy, you'll never realize through my words alone, what a great sportsman and gentleman Rollie is. The following script describes Rollie the day he was leaving the Air Force base in Yokota, through the eyes of the boilermaker, Johnny Boyle. Rollie would go on and train many professionals, one in heavyweight Doug Jones, who came hairpin close to beating a young Cassius Clay in 1963. Hackmer is a member of Ring 8 in New York, and although he recently moved down south, he still comes occasionally to the meetings. In the year 2002, boxing needs more like Rollie Hakmer, who was an Air Force boxing coach at the time of this article. 

Rollie Hackmer leaves Yokota today or perhaps tomorrow, to travel to the United States with the 1959 PACAF Boxing Champions. He'll guide the boys as they try to bring worldwide honors back to his command. He won't be coming back, and what a shame it is. If he is selected coach of the Pan American squad he'll remain under Uncle Sam's wing a bit longer for that purpose. If not, following the AF World Wide Competition he'll receive a discharge and return to professional boxing as a civilian manager. There is no doubt in this writer's mind as to Hackmer being the sincerest, hardest working sportsman on the base. Perhaps few realize it but Hackmer has been instrumental, and a big and successful part of the Far East sporting scene. To many he has taught all they know, to others he has polished into fine performers. He has trained youngsters in the manly art of self-defense. All this in his spare time as he is holding down the job of in AF Special Services in Yokota.  

The fighters realize it, I realize it and I want a lot more people to become aware of it ---when Hackmer leaves the Far East, the boxing game will surely suffer for it and it will be hard to find a replacement. Hack informs me that right here in Yokota we have a man to fill his shoes.  Sergeant Wilbur Gerald has worked side Hackmer for the past few months and when Rollie leaves, Gerald hopes to continue the fight game around here.  

Sergeant Hakmer has been a personal friend of this writer for some time. It was natural to be with Hackmer, but you know, you'd think that a guy who knocked off 155 amateur opponents and nine out of ten pros would have trouble fitting his hat on his head. Nothing is farther from the truth in Hackmer's  case. Rollie is an easygoing modest guy who has never had time to think about number one. His main interest is the boxing game. It has been a large part of his life for years, but tremendous accomplishments in this field of sport have failed to place a dent in the Hackmer modesty. 

There is so much to say ----- how they called him Mr. Physical Training at Sampson Air Force base, and how he knocked out some of the bantamweight headliners in the pro racket, how he sticks in the gym boxing room until late night teaching some awkward kid how to protect himself . . . . there is a lot more and we don't have the space in this column to write about all the fine character traits of the guy. The 4,000 fans who put in an appearance at the Base Gym last Friday night proved Hackmer's argument ---that amateur boxing is not dead and would flourish over here if given the chance. It was a big moment for Rollie to see them "hanging from the rafters." It was bigger moment for him to watch all of his fighters walk away with championship honors.

Perhaps it will be a big moment for him when he reaches the States with his titleholders. We are selfish. It won't be a big moment for us but a very sad one when he boards the plane.

We will miss you Hack', a great buddy and a truly fine sportsman. Best of luck in the world and later in the civilian fight game. Keep in touch and in the future when we see one of your boys climbing through the ropes --- we will think of you and know you put the kid there and taught him all he knows.  

END