Chapter XI: Book SIX (9)

In Miami, where we had more than 450 newspapermen from all parts of the world on hand for the first fight promoted by the Garden without Tex Rickard’s help, many such yarns were telegraphed without aid from the reporter whose name was signed without ever seeing the copy. Sid Mercer and I often worked fourteen or more hours daily to write specials for visiting writers who for six weeks were having the time of their lives while we two were slaving to meet their deadlines. Even some of the British newspapermen soon caught on to the American style of covering a fight camp, and I had to send special cables out for them as well.

In most cases newspapermen assigned to camps in the years preceding the Jim Norris regime, were from an entirely different school than the present day boxing writers. The majority were more thorough in their work and possessed a keener knowledge of boxing than the writers of this era. They knew the game from A to Z, were more familiar with the techniques, knew the background of the characters who were the hangers-on in the camps and didn’t depend on the stereotyped reports of the publicity bureau for an angle.

Today most of the boxing reporters are copyists who take what is handed out to them on a silver platter and merely elaborate. Few investigate. The majority take for granted what is given to them by the press bureau. Few go in for digging feature material as we did daily.

How different the old school was! The most prolific of all fight publicists was the late Francis Albertanti, who for many years was my star boxing reporter on the _Telegram_. He prepared more fighters for the opening bell than any one I knew, and his camp reports, when he was in charge of the ballyhoo, were tops. I know of no writer who could beat him in obtaining human interest material. He often had the other reporters tearing their hair because of the number of “scoops” he scored for our paper. Many a bonus Francis received from our Managing Editor, Fred Walker.

On one occasion when Francis was out of work, Mike Jacobs asked him to take charge of Billy Conn’s camp when Billy was preparing for his second fight with Joe Louis. Mike offered him $1,200 for three weeks work plus all expenses. Francis turned it down. “You need the money more than I do,” he replied in a huff. “I’ll take the job for $5,000—nothing less.”

Then he added: “You’re a millionaire; I’m an ordinary working man. I can get along on ham and beans. You need steaks daily.”

So Mike and Francis parted, and for the first time in years, they were not on talking terms. But Francis was a frequent visitor in Conn’s camp, and one day after Billy’s workout, a mediocre one, Joe Williams, who took my place as Sports Editor of the _Telegram_ asked Francis for his opinion.

“Billy looks great,” said Francis with a straight face. “He’s full of energy. He is fast, sharp, hits well, punches with accuracy. He’s clever and game. He’s determined to win.”

Then after a short pause, Albertanti wound up his commentary with a knockout punch at Uncle Mike’s ballyhoo: “But I pick Louis to take the kid out any time Joe wants to. He’s a cinch in my book to keep the title.”

* * * * *

Ed Smith was another scribe who played a dominant part in American sports for half a century. The by-line of Ed Smith, so well known to readers of _The Ring_ for which he wrote for many years, was known throughout the world of sports. For twenty-six years he wrote for the Chicago _Chronicle_, the Chicago _American_ and the Los Angeles _Examiner_. Back in the “good old days” it was sacrilegious to stage a fight or a wrestling match of national importance without Smith acting as referee.

Recognized as one of the best referees, there was never a complaint about his honesty or his ability. He was third man in the ring when Luther McCarty fell dead in his bout with Arthur Pelkey in Calgary. He also officiated at the memorable international wrestling championship match between Hackenschmidt and Gotch at Dexter Pavilion in Chicago in 1911. He took part in thousands of other famous contests, a complete list of which would fill a record book.

Lumley, Mathison, Bat Masterson, and Smith were among the last of the old school of sports writers, which also included Joe Vila of _The Evening Sun_ of New York, one of the most fearless boxing writers in America. Like Lumley, Smith and Mathison revelled in the past. They saw the romance that ended with the commercialization of boxing, and they kept the old days alive with thrilling and absorbingly interesting tales.

Arthur Lumley was editor of the _Police Gazette_ fifty years ago. He came into the spotlight at a time when the writers wore long beards, curling moustaches, high boots, and other disguises when they went to cover a fight. I visited Lumley just before his death a few years ago. He had broken his leg in a fall, and this injury, combined with another ailment, had left him an invalid. His failing sight could hardly discern my presence.

“Come closer, Nat,” he said to me. “I won’t treat you like they used to treat reporters fifty years ago, when I went the rounds to do my work. You know, prize fight promoters and fighters didn’t want newspapermen about, then. It was too dangerous. Everything had to be kept quiet so that there couldn’t be a give-away to the cops.”

He then told me the story of his attempt to cover the fight between Paddy Ryan and Joe Goss in 1880, at Collier’s Station, West Virginia.

“I decided that I would report that fight and I went along with the few who knew where it would be staged. When I got to the scene, those in charge drove away every member of the press except me. I seemed to be a privileged character.

“They let me stay because I stood in well with several bank robbers who were associated with the promotion. We had an awful time getting to the scene of action and still worse a time convincing the principals that it was all right for me to remain and report the fight for my paper. We took a boat and started across Lake Michigan for Canada, but when we got to the Canadian shore we found a company of British soldiers and six cannon facing us, so we decided it was best not to attempt to land.

“We turned back, but before we reached the Michigan shore, the Governor had been tipped off that we were on our way and he had a posse after us, so we couldn’t land there, either. We ran into the same trouble in Indiana and later in Ohio, but we finally made it into West Virginia.

“It was a tough fight to stage and tougher to handle because of constant danger of being discovered by the law. The fight lasted eighty-seven rounds, with Ryan the winner. It was the first big event I covered after becoming sports editor of the _Police Gazette_ in 1879.”

Speaking of the old _Police Gazette_, which the author of this book bought in 1932 when the Fox family, because of heavy losses, decided to give it up after controlling it for half a century, Lumley remarked:

“We covered all the prize fights in _The Gazette_, and we also went in for sensations. We gave the readers all sorts of dots and dashes—little spicy items of divorces, separations, escapades, and crime. You know, the kind of personal bits they couldn’t get elsewhere. That made an instantaneous hit and our circulation doubled. Then we decided to give them any news that wouldn’t be printed in the daily papers and featured stories of hold-ups, stabbings, murders, debauchery, wild west fights, Indian uprisings, floods, and the like, and what a hit we made!

“_The Gazette_, under my management with Richard K. Fox, the owner, became internationally known and the craze for the sheet in England was as great as it was in America. We decided to go after more circulation and at my suggestion, we opened a page for the barbers and the bartenders, and by running the pictures of favorites, the paper sold like hot cakes. Everybody wanted a copy. We were the oldest illustrated paper in America and _The Gazette_, as we ran it, was the forerunner of our modern tabloids.”

A splendid reporter and editor, Lumley was also a manager. In addition to Sullivan, he handled Nonpareil Jack Dempsey and Jack McAuliffe. Unlike the manager of today, he never got a cent out of such management. It was the honor the managers went after in those days, and, as Lumley said to me:

“I didn’t make a sou out of them. It wasn’t the custom in those days to take money from a fighter. However, I made up a medallion of the three Jacks—McAuliffe, Sullivan, and Dempsey—and I sold these all over the country and made plenty. In my opinion, they were three of the greatest fighters, barring no one, America has ever seen.”

* * * * *

England, like America, had many excellent boxing writers of the old school, the most prominent being Hugh Bradley, Harry Cleveland, Trevor Wignall, Ben Bennison, Fred Dartnell, James Butler, Norman Hurst, and a wonderful sports cartoonist, Tom Webster.

They represent the gallant old guard who wrote many thrilling and interesting tales. Their stories, many of which are in my possession, I can read over and over again and never tire. We covered many international affairs together.

* * * * *

No sporting writer in his day was more popular in the Middle West than Harry Weldon, who for many years was the active and genial Sports Editor of the Cincinnati _Enquirer_. He was an all-round sporting man whose forte was boxing and baseball. He had a wide reputation for honesty, and his opinion settled bets throughout the nation.

George Touhey of Boston was another writer of note, and one who contributed a mass of data on the history of American boxing, in addition to being a prominent promoter and manager. Then there was Joe McGinn, grand old man of the Associated Press and first president of the Old Sports Writers Association of New York.

I recall going to a private fight with McGinn and Jim Bagley, who was a master of slang before George Ade ever was heard of. In the latter years of his life, Joe was a teetotaler, but at the time I speak of, he would, upon occasion, indulge in the cup that cheers.

It was a cold, wet, rainy night. We had to walk more than a mile through mud and wet fields before we found the roadhouse where the bouts were held. The cold rain and the mud offered a fitting excuse for a nip or two along the way—an excuse for several, in fact—and Joe became more than a little drunk. He knew it and feared the reception he would get from the boss.

“Never mind, Joe,” hiccoughed Jim, “I’ll square you with the boss. I’ll write a heartbreaking story about this trip through the rain and mud and how all of us braved pneumonia and had to liquor up to save our lives.”

Bagley wrote the story, giving a moving account of the privations endured by the correspondents. He told, as only Bagley could tell, of the march through the mud and rain and how the writers wandered for miles in the darkness in a vain search for the roadhouse where the fight took place.

“All of a sudden,” wrote Bagley, “out of the rain and the wet and the mud and the stark, black darkness of the night, loomed a building. It was all lit up like Joe McGinn.”

That is the way Jim Bagley squared Joe McGinn, if squaring with reverse English can be considered help.

* * * * *

The great boxing matches in the huge stadiums of the present day are marked by perfect order and decorum. They are wonderful things, but once in a while some of us can’t help longing for the days when the boxing game was sowing its wild oats. We sigh for the lost romance and adventure. Say what you want, you fellows, those were the days! Those were the good old days!

A new school of boxing writer has developed in recent years, one that mixed the new with the old and thus continued to give some sense of the romance of the old prize ring days. There were writers who, like myself, had passed through the transition period and could appreciate the glamor and the thrills of those old times.

Leaders of this school were Damon Runyon, Hype Igoe, “Doc” Almy, veteran of the Boston _Post_, Westbrook Pegler of the Chicago _Tribune_ Syndicate; Paul Gallico of the _Daily News_, Sid Mercer of the New York _Journal_, and Harry Smith, the dean of the California critics, who died the day of the Ezzard Charles-Joey Maxim fight in San Francisco in January 1952, at the age of seventy-six. He had been at every big fight since 1890, and was one of my dearest friends.

These men stood out not merely as sports specialists but as all-round reporters. In many cases, outstanding sports writers during my early years as a journalist were recruited to cover major news events on the “outside,” such as lurid murder trials, kidnapings, Presidential campaigns, and the like.

Other notable journalists with whom I frequently worked on assignments include Jersey Jones, now of _The Ring_ staff, who covered boxing for the New York _Globe_; Dan Parker, Sports Editor of the New York _Daily Mirror_; James P. Dawson of _The Times_; Frank Graham and Bill Corum of the New York _Journal American_; Red Smith and Jesse Abramson of the New York _Herald Tribune_; Daniel M. Daniel, Joe Williams, and Lester Bromberg of the New York _World-Telegram_; Barney Nagler of the _Morning Telegraph_; Jim Jennings of the New York _Daily Mirror_; Arthur Daley and Joe Nichols of the New York _Times_; Bob Considine, star columnist of the Hearst organizations; Ted Smits, Jack Hand, and Murray Rose of the Associated Press; Jack Cuddy and Oscar Fraley of the _United Press_; Harry Grayson of the NEA service, and Al Buck and Jimmy Cannon of the New York _Post_. Also Harry Markson of the _Bronx Home News_ and Murray Goodman of the New York _American_, both now members of the International Boxing Club staff; Hugh Bradley and Murray Robinson of the _Journal-American_, Murray Lewin of the _Daily Mirror_ and Gene Ward and Jimmy Powers of the New York _Daily News_. They all contributed to journalistic history as sports writers.

Others were Warren Brown, Johnny Carmichael, Gene Kessler, Charley Dunkley, and Arch Ward in Chicago; Ed Wray, Bill McGoogan, Roy Stockton, and Sid Keener in St. Louis; Harry Salsinger, Bob Murphy, Lyall Smith, and Leo McDonell in Detroit; and Bill Cunningham, Dave Egan, and Harry Hirschfield in Boston.

Friendly hands stretched across the continent through the years: Jack Laing of Buffalo; Bill Lee of the Hartford _Courant_; Whitey Lewis of the Cleveland _Press_; Ed Bang of the Cleveland _News_; Max Kase of the New York _Journal-American_; George Barton, veteran writer of the Minneapolis _Tribune_; Elmer Ferguson of the Montreal _Herald_; Harry Keck of the Pittsburgh _Sun-Telegraph_; Bill Keefe of the New Orleans _Item_; and Roger Pippin of the Baltimore _Sun_.

Also, Al Abrams of the Pittsburgh _Post-Gazette_; Royal Brougham of the Seattle _Post-Intelligencer_; Jack Kofoed of the Miami _Herald_, whom I started on the big-time circuit in New York; Dink Carroll of the Montreal _Gazette_; George Davis of the San Francisco _Express_; Jack Fried of the Philadelphia _Bulletin_; and Sec Taylor of the Des Moines _Register_.

Others who shared countless ringside thrills with me were Hy Goldberg and Ed Friel of the Newark _News_; Tony Merenghi of the Newark _Star Ledger_; L. H. Gregory of the Portland _Oregonian_; Curley Grieve of the San Francisco _Examiner_; Ray Grody of the Milwaukee _Sentinel_; Eddie Muller of the San Francisco _Examiner_; Shirley Povich of the Washington _Post_; Willie Ratner of the Newark _Evening News_; Wilfred Smith of the Chicago _Tribune_; Frank Mastro of the Chicago _Tribune_; and Pat Robinson of the _International News Service_.

There are many, many others. In England, where I am as much at home as in my own country, I frequently reported international boxing matches and other events with Frank Butler, Tom Phillips, George Whiting, Peter Wilson, Maurice Smith, Harold Mayes, Lanson Wood, John Macadam, Ralph Hadley, Desmond Hackett, Reg Gutteridge, Joe Bromely, L. N. Bailey, Gerald Walter and Bill Mann.

The Fourth Estate’s sports writers constitute a grand crew, doing a tremendous job in a vital department of American and British journalism. They are the men whose dynamic prose has brought pleasure to sports fans the world over.

A SUMMING UP

On June 6, 1958, I completed my thirtieth round trip to Europe. During my five-weeks’ tour of the continent I appeared on a number of radio and television programs, and, as has been the case on other such occasions, I was asked to compare ranked fighters of this era with the stars of the past. Queries pertaining to the respective punching powers of Jack Dempsey, Joe Louis and Rocky Marciano; the cleverness of Ray Robinson; the cause of boxing’s decline; television’s effect on pugilism; the International Boxing Club’s difficulties with the government, and the investigations into boxing in various parts of the United States, seemed to be of particular interest to my interviewers.

Watching the passing sports parade during my many years as a journalist, I have been most impressed by the changes that have taken place in boxing, changes which I enumerated in my overseas talks. There have been changes in style, and the brutality that predominated in pre-commission days has been eliminated. Boxing has spread throughout the world and there is no doubt that it enjoys a greater following today than ever before in its history.

However, in most major sports the champions of today are as good, and in sports such as track and field, far superior, to those who ruled the roost when I covered sports as a cub reporter. This is definitely not so in boxing. All one need do is to watch some of the televised bouts that are dished out as main events to realize that fighting talent has gone into an amazing decline. It is difficult to grow ecstatic over what one observes nowadays as compared with the really first class matches of the past.

There is at present a general lack of knowledge of the finer points of the game which can be attributed to the training and management of young fighters by incompetents. Prior to World War II the difficulty in ranking fighters lay in selecting ten from an outstanding field of possibly fifteen or more prominent performers. Today’s headache comes from trying to find a sufficient number of worthies in any division after the first three or four have been listed.

The factors that make a great fighter, or even a good one, are the ability to deliver a crushing blow, the ability to stand up against punishment, and the ability to avoid punishment through ring cleverness. Cleverness can be developed through gymnasium workouts, but it requires far more than that to acquire the toughness and fighting spirit of the old timers, who, in most cases, were men who had followed a difficult manual trade before taking up pugilism as a livelihood.

The trades that developed our greatest fighters were those which had to do with swinging a hammer, mining, or hauling heavy loads. Take a glance over the list of all-time greats in _The Ring Record Book_. There’s Bob Fitzsimmons, one of the few men who could bring down an opponent with a single shot. He developed his tremendous power and stamina by pounding out horse shoes on an anvil.

Jack Dempsey, the Nonpareil, a top middleweight, was a cooper by trade, as was the famed Jack McAuliffe, who retired as undefeated lightweight king. Both developed their punching muscles by pounding the hoops on barrels, which in their day were made by hand.

Jim Jeffries, the man whom Tex Rickard called the toughest of all the heavyweights, was a boilermaker by trade. The electric hammer had not been invented when he started working and the rivets were driven in by hand.

Jack Johnson, whom I consider the best all-around man among the heavyweights, past and present, gained his strength and endurance as a stevedore lifting heavy bales of cotton on a Galveston wharf. Harry Wills, almost as sound physically today as he was in his prime, is another who developed on the docks of the South.

Jack Dempsey, the Manassa Mauler, whose powerfully built shoulders and iron fists brought him into the million-dollar class of fighting men, started out in the Colorado mines. Even the great John L. Sullivan, a heavy drinker and a tough one to handle in training, did a lot of laborious work before he became a professional prize fighter. And though Jim Corbett never wielded a hammer, he spent hour upon hour, even as a bank clerk, in outdoor exercise.

One cannot gain ring fame by the easy pink tea route or the playboy road. Many fighters learn this lesson at the price of a heavy shellacking, which more than likely kills their ambition altogether. But the fact that so many of the fine performers of yesterday were blacksmiths, lumbermen, stevedores, teamsters and piano movers is testimony to the fact that it’s the boys who have to battle their way to the top who make the grade.

The fighters themselves can’t be blamed for everything. Much of the responsibility for present day mediocrity lies in poor coaching. Men like Billy Delaney, Parson Davies, Doc Robb, Tom O’Rourke and Young Otto, among dozens of others of the old school, knew the game thoroughly. Many of today’s trainers know less about boxing than the lads they are trying to instruct. Doc Robb taught Benny Leonard to box when Benny was a kid, and even when Leonard was champion he looked to Robb to advise him on the finer points.

Years ago, pugilism was an art and good instructors were in abundance. They were the “professors” who taught their charges proper stance before any other aspect of boxing was discussed. Watching today’s lads in gymnasiums both here and abroad, or in ring battles, one can see how little most present day boxers have been taught. For every top coach or trainer today there are a dozen or more poor ones who have no business in the ring looking after a fighter. Among the few who rate high in my book as teachers today are Whitey Bimstein, Jimmy August, Angelo Dundee, Bill Gore, Freddie Brown, Dan and Nick Florio, Izzy Kline, George Chemaris, Johnny Sullo, Chickie Ferrera, Charley Goldman and Doc Moore.

* * * * *

The art of boxing was at its height long before padded gloves took the place of bare fists. The oldest of sports, it began before the Christian era dawned. Boxing matches were fought with the cruel metal-studded cestus, one of which, discovered in the old ruins of Pompeii by me in 1922, now rests in _The Ring_ Museum in Madison Square Garden.

The cestus was abandoned as civilization advanced. Bare fist fighting became a leading sport in Great Britain during the eighteenth century, and from there it spread to America. It was only slightly less dangerous than the old Roman way of boxing and those who practiced it just had to learn how to protect themselves. Since necessity is the mother of invention, the bare knuckle warriors discovered much that continued to be useful after gloves were introduced. Unfortunately, much of this has been forgotten with the passage of years as fighters became less cautious of their weapons and correct hitting began to give way to wild swinging.

In the bare knuckle days, a straight left was the foundation of ring strategy. It was not a tap to be ignored, such as one frequently sees today, but a punishing blow that often produced a knock-down. Feinting, which was best exemplified among gloved fighters by Jack Johnson, is for the most part a lost art today, as is punching with the full weight of the body behind the blow.

This is not to say that all the really good fighters were of prehistoric vintage, for there have been some notable examples of distinction in recent times. There is no doubt that Joe Louis and Ray Robinson would have stood out in any era, and Rocky Marciano was as strong and courageous as any man who ever stepped into the roped square. But the deterioration of fighters in general is strikingly obvious when I consider the overwhelming preponderance of old-timers in my ranking of top ringmen from the first Marquis of Queensberry heavyweight championship bout between Sullivan and Corbett in 1892 to the present.

Leading my list of fighters whose best performances were given in the last sixty-six years is my favorite heavyweight, Jack Johnson. I rate James J. Jeffries second, and close on his heels are Bob Fitzsimmons, Jack Dempsey, James J. Corbett, Joe Louis, Sam Langford and Gene Tunney, in that order.

Tunney was not a colorful battler, but he was a cool, mechanical operator who mastered the technical ends of the game and definitely has been a much underrated fighter. He proved in his two bouts with Dempsey that he was far superior to the rest of the heavyweight fighters during the years that Jack held sway.

Dempsey came at a time when boxing was badly in need of a man of his stamp. Jess Willard had lifted the crown from Johnson, thus ending the era of the “white hopes,” but somehow boxing fans could not get it into their heads that Willard had won the world’s title squarely. His was an empty triumph that thrilled nobody.

Along came the Mauler from Manassa. Along came Tex Rickard. This wonderful combination of fighter and promoter revived the sport and resuscitated its finances, and the old guard suddenly discovered that the “good old days” had come again. Boxing was lifted into the million-dollar class. And Dempsey did it. He did it with his dynamic right, his bobbing and weaving style, his popularity with the public, and his ability to produce electric shocks. Those qualities make him the fourth greatest fighter of the modern era in my book.

As for the recently retired, undefeated heavyweight champion, Rocky Marciano, he was a great hitter, but I’d rate Max Schmeling, of Germany, above him in the number nine spot.

In the light-heavyweight class, I give the wily Kid McCoy, the corkscrew artist, top rating, with clever Philadelphia Jack O’Brien next in line, and Jack Dillon, the “Hoosier Bearcat,” in third place.

Stanley Ketchel, the “Michigan Assassin,” Tommy Ryan, and Harry Greb, “The Pittsburgh Whirlwind,” occupy the top positions, respectively, among the middleweights, with Mickey Walker, the “Toy Bulldog,” and “Sugar” Ray Robinson following in that order.

The great Joe Walcott, the “Barbados Demon,” who fought in four classes with considerable success, is my choice as the leading welterweight, while the mighty Joe Gans and Benny Leonard lead the lightweights. Each was a ring marvel. There was very little difference between the pair in cleverness and general ability.

Terry McGovern, clever Jem Driscoll, and Abe Attell, are the leading figures in the featherweight class, which includes such wonderful boxers who made ring history in this division as Johnny Dundee, Johnny Kilbane, Kid Chocolate, Willie Pep, and Young Griffo.

The bantam division produced such memorable names as George Dixon (“Little Chocolate”) Pete Herman, and Kid Williams.

Looking over the list of heavyweight champions from Sullivan to Patterson, we find that the majority of the leaders were fighting men who could hit. Who hit the hardest? That’s a matter of opinion.

Tommy Burns, Jack Johnson, and Jess Willard were harder hitters than Corbett or Tunney, but of the trio, only Johnson possessed the cleverness and speed that distinguished these two master boxers.

Johnson was a marvelous boxer with all-around ability, and I am not the only boxing writer to rate him as the kingpin of the heavyweights. However, as a powerful hitter he lacked the punishing effectiveness of Jeffries, Fitzsimmons, Tom Sharkey, Dempsey, Louis, and Marciano.

Willard had a heavy wallop, as his fight with Bull Young, whom he killed in the ring at Vernon, California, in 1915, certainly proved. But that tragic misfortune made Big Jess extremely cautious in all of his subsequent battles. In his fight with Dempsey, after being floored seven times in the opening round, and battered about the ring until he was virtually helpless, he jarred Jack with a right to the jaw in the third round that almost floored him.

Coming down to Tunney, we find in him the cleverest of all heavyweights from the time of Corbett. He was a master boxer, an excellent jabber, and extremely fast. In him, Dempsey faced his cleverest opponent, a boxer who, despite the much-discussed “long count,” whipped him decisively both in Philadelphia and in Chicago. But Tunney’s inability to stop Dempsey when he had him at his mercy in Philadelphia was fair proof of his deficiencies as a puncher. He crashed his fists so frequently against Jack’s face that one of Dempsey’s eyes was partially closed in each contest, but Gene couldn’t finish his man. The big wallop which men like Sullivan, Jeff, Fitz and Dempsey were able to deliver in their heyday, was the missing ingredient in Tunney’s make-up.

As for Joe Louis, there is no need to go into details about his hitting. He was on a par with Dempsey in that respect, but wasn’t as fast and couldn’t take it on the chin as could Jack. Joe was an exceedingly slow starter, yet one of the greatest in the division for setting up an opponent for the “kill.” His record as a heavyweight is one of the best.

His successor as a hitter was Rocky Marciano. We cannot compare Rocky with Louis or Dempsey, except as a puncher. One thing we do know—the public loves a hard hitter, and in Rocky, the “Brockton Blockbuster,” it had such a champion.

One fighter who should have become an all-time great but didn’t, was Max Baer. The Californian had the size, the strength, the ruggedness, the stamina, and as deadly a punch as the heavyweight class has known, but Max was too much of a psychological problem. His clout did carry him to the top of the heavyweight heap, but he didn’t remain there long. He was too irresponsible and undependable.

Here is a detailed breakdown of my evaluation of the fighting abilities of the heavyweights under discussion here:

Best Boxer James J. Corbett
Fastest James J. Corbett
Best All-Around Jack Johnson
Best Uppercut Jack Johnson
Best Defensive Jack Johnson
Best Counter Puncher Jack Johnson
Most Crafty Jack Johnson
Best at Feinting Jack Johnson
Best Left Hand Hitter James J. Jeffries
Best Knockout Puncher Bob Fitzsimmons
Best Hooker Bob Fitzsimmons
Most Damaging Body Puncher Bob Fitzsimmons
Best Heart Puncher Jack Dempsey
Best at Infighting Jack Dempsey
The Roughest Jack Dempsey
Best combination, right to heart and left to chin Jack Dempsey
Best Two-Hand Hitter Jack Dempsey
Smartest Boxer Gene Tunney
Best Jabber Gene Tunney
Best Conditioned Gene Tunney
Best Straight Right Joe Louis
Best Finisher Joe Louis

As for my all-time rankings in each division, they are as follows:

_Heavyweights_

1—Jack Johnson
2—James J. Jeffries
3—Bob Fitzsimmons
4—Jack Dempsey
5—James J. Corbett
6—Joe Louis
7—Sam Langford
8—Gene Tunney
9—Max Schmeling
10—Rocky Marciano

_Middleweights_

1—Stanley Ketchel
2—Tommy Ryan
3—Harry Greb
4—Mickey Walker
5—Ray Robinson
6—Frank Klaus
7—Billy Papke
8—Les Darcy
9—Mike Gibbons
10—Jeff Smith

_Light Heavyweights_

1—Kid McCoy
2—Philadelphia Jack O’Brien
3—Jack Dillon
4—Tommy Loughran
5—Jack Root
6—Battling Levinsky
7—Georges Carpentier
8—Tom Gibbons
9—Jack Delaney
10—Paul Berlenbach

_Welterweights_

1—Joe Walcott
2—Mysterious Billy Smith
3—Jack Britton
4—Ted Kid Lewis
5—Dixie Kid
6—Harry Lewis
7—Willie Lewis
8—Henry Armstrong
9—Barney Ross
10—Jimmy McLarnin

_Lightweights_

1—Joe Gans
2—Benny Leonard
3—Owen Moran
4—Freddy Welsh
5—Battling Nelson
6—George Kid Lavigne
7—Tony Canzoneri
8—Willie Ritchie
9—Lew Tendler
10—Charley White

_Bantamweights_

1—George Dixon
2—Pete Herman
3—Kid Williams
4—Joe Lynch
5—Bud Taylor
6—Johnny Coulon
7—Pal Moore
8—Frankie Burns
9—Eddie Campi
10—Panama Al Brown

_Featherweights_

1—Terry McGovern
2—Jem Driscoll
3—Abe Attell
4—Johnny Dundee
5—Johnny Kilbane
6—Kid Chocolate
7—Willie Pep
8—Young Griffo
9—George K. O. Chaney
10—Louis Kid Kaplan

_Flyweights_

1—Jimmy Wilde
2—Pancho Villa
3—Frankie Genaro
4—Fidel La Barba
5—Benny Lynch
6—Elky Clark
7—Johnny Buff
8—Midget Wolgast
9—Peter Kane
10—Pascual Perez

It will take a long time, probably years after I’m gone, before we will thrill again to the likes of these men. I do not live in the past, but I do believe that the romance of the prize ring rests almost entirely in the years gone by.

There is no end to what one can recall when one attempts, as I have, to jot down the names of fistic heroes whose acquaintances I have made and whose friendships I cherished. The vivid anecdotes associated with their names, and the names of others close to boxing in my lifetime, the thrilling contests I’ve seen, the people I’ve met in my world travels, my experiences in far-off countries, have all left their special impression on me which I have tried to pass on to you.

Down the years I have meandered, telling a bit about this and a bit about that, and with all, having as fine a time as I hope you have had in following my journalistic career.

As for the future, I don’t agree with those who predict nothing but gloom for boxing while they lament the lost glories of Rickard and Dempsey, Jacobs and Louis. Studio television will dominate promotional efforts during the coming years and eliminate the fear of financial failure. There is no end to the fabulous returns the future holds for world championship matches with television wired for theater and home pay viewing exclusively. The receipts of the golden era of boxing will seem insignificant measured against what can be grossed with this new medium.

I see America’s boxing monopoly broken now that the sport has taken a firm hold in far-off countries hitherto unseen on the fistic map. South America, Central America, Europe and Asia will crown world champions.

Whatever the caliber of present and future talent as compared with olden times, the pulse-stirring excitement will still be there. The humor, pathos and glamour of the ring will never cease.

Were I to live my life over again, there is nothing I would cherish more than to be a part of the boxing scene and play the role that has been mine during the past half century.

Books by Nat Fleischer

_History_

THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONS
FROM MILO TO LONDOS—_The History of Wrestling from 2000 B.C._
BLACK DYNAMITE—_A Five-Volume History of the Negro Race in Boxing_
THE RING RECORD BOOK AND ENCYCLOPEDIA—_14 Volumes_

_Biography_

RECKLESS LADY—_The Life Story of Adah Isaacs Menken and her Husband,
John C. Heenan_
JOHN L. SULLIVAN—_The Champion of Champions_
GENTLEMAN JIM—_The Life Story of James J. Corbett_
TERRIBLE TERRY—_The Brooklyn Terror_
YOUNG GRIFFO—_Will O’ the Wisp of the Ring_
STANLEY KETCHEL—_The Michigan Assassin_
JACK MCAULIFFE—_The Napoleon of the Prize Ring_
LEONARD THE MAGNIFICENT
JACK DEMPSEY—_The Idol of Fistiana_
GENE TUNNEY—_The Enigma of the Prize Ring_
MAX BAER—_The Glamour Boy_
THE JOE LOUIS LEGEND

_Instruction_

COMMANDO STUFF
MODERN WRESTLING
TRAINING FOR BOXERS
HOW TO BOX
HOW TO JUDGE AND REFEREE A FIGHT
BLOCKING, HITTING AND OTHER METHODS OF SELF-DEFENSE

INDEX

Abrams, Al, 271

Abramson, Jesse, 270

Adam Hats, 144-146

Ade, George, 269

Adulyadej, King Bhumibol, 5-6, 230

Akoose, Paul, 33

Albany Hotel (New York City), 110

Albertanti, Francis, 17, 47, 246, 264-265

Alberts, Jim, 33

Alger, Horatio, 55-56

Allen, Stonewall, 192-193

Almy, “Doc,” 59, 60, 270

Ambers, Lou, 143

Anderson, Andre, 188-189

Archibald, Joey, 218-221

Armstrong, Henry, 141-143, 282

Arnst, Dick, 237

Associated Press, 14, 15, 154, 269, 271

Astor, John Jacob, 16

Atlantic Gardens, 168, 190, 192

Attell, Abe, 171, 256, 279, 282

August, Jimmy, 276

Austin, Sam, 253

Azua, Ernesto, 222

Backer, George, 102-103, 105

Baer, Max, 147, 280

Bagley, Jim, 269

Bailey, L. N., 272

Baker, Police Commissioner, 110

Bald, Cannonball Eddie, 32

Baltimore _Sun_, 271

Bang, Ed, 271

Barbour, W. Warren, 55-62

Barbour, Colonel William, 56, 58, 61, 62

Baron Wilkes’ Hotel (New York City), 76

Barrick, Constant, 136

Barton, George, 271

Batista, Gen. Fulgencio, 222, 223

Battling Norfolk, 94

Battling Siki, _see_ Siki, Battling

Baxter, Harry, 217

Beall, Fred, 187

Becker, Charles, 49

Bedell, Joe, 164

Bedell, Johnny, 33

Bedell, Menus, 33

Bendigo, 182

Bennison, Ben, 268

Berlenbach, Paul, 32, 92-93, 256, 257, 281

Bernaugh, Peter, 17

Biltmore Hotel (New York City), 111

Bimstein, Whitey, 276

Black, Julian, 141

Black Colossus, _see_ Johnson, Jack

Bloom, Phil, 195

Bloomfield, Jack, 194

Bonhag, George, 33-34, 43-44

Borden, Eddie, 246

_Boston Post_, 59, 270

Bothner, George, 187

Boyle’s Thirty Acres, 119, 200

Boys’ Club (New York City), 7, 10

Brace Memorial School, 7, 8

Braddock, James J., 6, 140, 147-149, 153, 155, 158

Bradley, Hugh, 268, 271

Brady, William A., 32

Breitenstraetter, Hans, 135

Brennan, Bill, 32, 202

Brenner, I. C., 247-248

Britt, Jimmy, 259

Britton, Jack, 185, 281

Brix, Lou, 217

Broadribb, Ted, 147-154, 157

Broadway Club (Brooklyn), 185

Brocco, 33

Broderick, Johnny, 37

Bromberg, Lester, 270

Bromely, Joe, 272

Bronx Home News, 271

Brougham, Royal, 271

Brown, Freddie, 276

Brown, Joey, 224

Brown, K. O., 180-184

Brown, Major, 26

Brown, Natie, 140-141

Brown, Ned, 221, 246

Brown, Panama Al, 282

Brown, Warren, 263, 271

Browning, Jim, 187

Brown’s Gymnasium, 168

Buck, Al, 271

Buelow, Arthur, 127-134

Buff, Johnny, 32, 282

Burke, Jem, 182

Burke, Joe, 60-61

Burke, Sailor, 195-196

Burns, Frankie, 201, 282

Burns, Tommy, 77, 279

Butler, Frank, 272

Butler, James, 268

Butler, Tom, 32

Butt, Captain Archibald, 16

Cameron, Ruth, _see_ Johnson, Mrs. Jack

Camp, Walter, 249

Camp Greenleaf (Chattanooga), 27

Campi, Eddie, 282

Cannon, Jimmy, 261, 271

Canzoneri, Tony, 193, 282

Capone, Al, 46, 47-49

Capone, Mrs. Al, 48

Carbo, Frankie, 46

Carey, Bill, 262

Carmichael, Johnny, 271

Carnera, Primo, 189, 260

_Carpathia_, 16

Carpentier, Georges, 90, 91, 93, 119-121, 125, 135, 202, 257, 281

Carroll, Dink, 271

Carruthers, Jimmy, 225-229

Castro, Fidel, 223

Catholic Youth Movement, 175

Chaney, George K. O., 282

Charles, Ezzard, 4, 204, 270

Chavez, Simon, 218-221

Chemaris, George, 276

Chicago _American_, 265

Chicago _Chronicle_, 265

Chicago _Tribune_, 48, 260, 270, 272

Chip, George, 184, 236

Choynski, Joe, 256, 257

Christodora House, 7

Cifuentas, Armando Garcia, 223

Cincinnati _Enquirer_, 268

City College (New York City), 8, 10

Clabby, Jimmy, 236

Clark, Elky, 282

Clarke, Jackie, 33

Cleveland, Grover, 12

Cleveland, Harry, 268

Cleveland _News_, 271

Cleveland _Press_, 271

Coe, Bill, 34

Coffey, Jim, 32, 188

Coffroth, Jim, 111

Cohen, Robert, 229-230

Cohn, Harvey, 34

Conifrey, Frankie, 168

Conn, Billy, 251, 264-265

Considine, Bob, 271

Cooper, Jack, 24, 58, 59, 258

Copeland, Al, 17

Corbett, James J., 6, 28, 32, 58, 154, 166, 171, 176, 199, 204,
253-254, 256, 257, 275, 277, 279, 280, 281

Corbett, Young, 257, 259

Corum, Bill, 270

Coulon, Johnny, 200-201, 282

Coultry, Frank, 103, 247-248

Critchley, General, 148-149, 152, 153

Cross, Harry, 246

Cross, Leach, 9-10, 32, 163-168, 183

Cuba, 218, 221-224

Cuddy, Jack, 271

Cunningham, Bill, 271

Curley, Jack, 83, 135-137, 187, 260

Curtin, Johnny, 194

Dale, Grover, 9, 10

Daley, Arthur, 271

Daley, George, 246

Daly, John, 34

Daniel, Daniel M., 17, 38-41, 43-44, 270

Daniels, Gypsy, 131

Darcy, Les, 236, 282

Dartmouth College, 33

Dartnell, Fred, 268

Davies, Parson, 276

Davis, George, 271

Davis, “One Round,” 197

Dawson, James P., 122, 158, 270

Deforest, Jimmy, 118

Delaney, Billy, 257, 276

Delaney, High Police Commissioner, 229

Delaney, Jack, 256, 257, 281

Dempsey, Jack (heavyweight), 4, 6, 28, 32, 57, 64, 78, 84, 112-124,
125, 140, 171, 174, 176, 191, 201, 202-203, 221, 226, 249, 250,
254, 257, 263, 273, 277-280, 281, 283

Dempsey, Jack (the Nonpareil), 268, 275

Des Moines _Register_, 271

Descamps, François, 135-137

Detroit _Free Press_, 261

Dexter Pavilion (Chicago), 266

Diamond, Robert, 229-230

Diekmann, Max, 130

Diener, Franz, 131, 136-137

Dillon, Jack, 278, 281

Dipley, Walter, 74

Dixie Kid, 195, 282

Dixon, George, 28, 32, 57, 256, 257, 279, 282

Doesserick, Charley, 194

Dolan’s restaurant (New York City), 29-30

Domgoergen, Hein, 131

Donovan, Mike, 23, 24, 32, 258

Dorgan, John (Ike), 103, 104, 132-133, 247-248

Dorgan, Tad, 70, 112, 247, 252-260

Drew, John, 34

Driscoll, Boyo, 197, 198

Driscoll, Jem, 155, 171, 253, 279, 282

Dry Dock Club, 50, 168

Duke family, 212

Duffy, Arthur, 34

Dundee, Angelo, 276

Dundee, Johnny, 32, 279, 282

Dunkley, Charley, 271

Durborrow, Louis, 37-38

Echevarria, Orlando, 224

Edgren, Bob, 34

Egan, Dave, 271

Egan, Pierce, 28

Eighteenth Amendment, 46

Einstein, Izzy, 50

Elks, Harry, 32

Empire Athletic Club, 168

Erickson, Egon, 40-41

Erne, Frank, 256

Ertle, Johnny Kewpie, 169

Erwin, Jimmy, 142

Escobar, Sixto, 216, 217, 221

Esparza, Nava, 190

Fairchild Newspapers, 214

Fairmont Athletic Club, 168, 195, 197

Fangio, 223

Farnsworth, Bill, 140, 143, 145

Farr, Tommy, 146-155, 157

Ferguson, Elmer, 271

Ferrera, Chickie, 276

Firpo, Luis, 4, 78, 121-124, 125, 172, 202-203

Fiss, Doerr, and Carroll’s Horse Mart, 67, 186

Fitzgerald, Willie, 257

Fitzsimmons, Bob, 24, 32, 172-173, 176, 203-204, 206-207, 236-241,
256, 257, 275, 277, 279, 280, 281

Fitzsimmons, Catherine, 239, 240

Fitzsimmons, Jack, 239-240

Fitzsimmons, Jarrett, 238, 240

Fitzsimmons, Rose, 203-204

Fitzsimmons family, 235-241

Flaherty, Martin, 79

Fleischer, Harold, 133

Fleischer, Jack, 156

Fleischer, Joan, 231

Fleischer, Mark, 8

Fleischer, Trudie, 126, 135, 262

Fleischer family, 8

Florio, Dan, 276

Florio, Nick, 276

Flowers, Tiger, 32, 206, 249

Flynn, Jim, 84

Flynn, Porky, 70-71, 188

Fogler, Joe, 33

Foley, Larry, 239

Foster, Ed, 154

Foster, Judge, 42-43

Fox, Richard K., 267

Fox family, 267

Fraley, Oscar, 271

Fralick, Dr., 132

Franco, Gen. Francisco, 137

Frank, Dago, 49

Frawley, Senator, 246

Frawley Law, 49, 163, 190

Frayne, Ed, 140, 145

Frazee, Harry, 83

Fried, Jack, 271

Friel, Ed, 272

Frohman, Charles, 16

Fullerton, Hugh, 253

Fulton, Fred, 113, 202, 257

Galiani, Eddie, 214

Gallico, Paul, 47, 48, 270

Gans, Joe, 32, 166, 254, 256, 257, 278, 282

Genaro, Frankie, 282

George, W. G., 33

Gibbons, Mike, 169, 195, 282

Gibbons, Tom, 281

Gibson, Billy, 32, 179, 188

Gibson, Truman, 223

Goethals, Major General George, 212-213

Goldberg, Hy, 272

Goldberg, Rube, 254

Goldman, Charley, 276

Goldstein, Ruby, 164

Goodman, Murray, 271

Gordon, Lady Duff, 16

Gordon, Joe, 10

Gore, Bill, 276

Goss, Joe, 266-267

Gotch, Frank, 187, 266

Gould, Mrs. Jay, 10

Gould, Joe, 148

Goulett, Al, 33

Graham, Frank, 270

Grayson, Harry, 271

Greb, Harry, 32, 186, 206, 249, 278, 281

Gregory, L. H., 272

Grenda, Al, 33

Grieve, Curley, 272

Griffin, Hank, 78

Griffo, Young, 279, 282

Grim, Joe, 172-173

Grody, Ray, 272

Grosvenor, Walter, 9

Guerrero, Gus, 33

Gulick, Dr. Luther Halsey, 8

Gutteridge, Reg, 272

Gyp the Blood, 49

Hackenschmidt, George, 187, 265-266

Hackett, Desmond, 272

Hadley, Ralph, 272

Hale, Teddy, 32

Haley, Referee Patsy, 186, 203

Hall, Captain, 26

Hammond, John, 103, 104

Hand, Jack, 271

Hannigan, Steve, 47, 262

Hanson, Knute, 137

Harlem Hospital, 169

Harriman, Mrs. Oliver, 10

Harris, Sam, 205

Hartford _Courant_, 271

Harvard University, 21, 23, 24

Harvey, Charley, 165

Haucap, Referee, 180

Hawkins, Dal, 257

Hayes, Johnny, 20, 33

Heeney, Tom, 137

Hegelman, Pete, 33

Henie, Sonja, 100

Henneberry, Bill, 228

Hennessey, John, 16, 50-51, 213

Henry, O., 32

Herman, Babe, 194

Herman, Pete, 32, 279, 282

Herrera, Aurelia, 205, 257

Herse, Otto, 129

Hillman, Harry, 33

Hippodrome (New York City), 140, 143-145

Hirschfield, Harry, 271

Hitler, Adolf, 237

Hoff, Boo Boo, 46

Holly, Dave, 205

Horton Law, repeal of the, 6, 45

Howard, Phocian, 57

Howard, Roy, 18

Howard Athletic Club, 169, 192

Hoyt, Richard F., 106

Hughes, Ed, 193-194

Hulls, Syd, 148-153

Humphreys, Joe, 205

Hurst, Norman, 268

Hurst, Tim, 36, 69

Igoe, Hype, 66, 70, 72, 81, 158, 254, 270

_Illustrated News_, 261

International Boxing Club, 218, 223, 271, 273

International News Service, 272

“Jack’s” (New York restaurant), 254-255

Jackson, Peter, 205

Jacobs, Joe, 133-134

Jacobs, Mike, 6, 105-107, 119, 120-121, 135, 138-159, 251, 264-265,
283

Jeannette, Joe, 32, 78, 205

Jeffries, James J., 32, 58, 59, 75, 77-78, 84, 109-110, 111, 176,
202, 203-204, 206-207, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 259, 275, 277,
279, 281

Jeffries, Mrs. James J., 112

Jenkins, 187

Jennings, Jim, 270-271

_Jewish Forward_, 166

Joh, Billy, 189, 191, 196-197, 198

Johnson, Jack, 56-59, 75-89, 109-110, 111, 136, 141, 171, 176, 199,
205, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 259, 275, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281

Johnson, Mrs. Jack, 76, 77

Johnson, John Lester, 191-192

Johnston, Jimmy, 32, 134, 260

Jones, Horace, 136

Jones, Jersey, 270

Jones, John Paul, 34

Joyce, John, 34

Kane, Peter, 282

Kaplan, Louis Kid, 250, 282

Kase, Max, 271

Kaufman, Al, 84

Kearns, Jack, 114, 118-119, 173, 194, 202

Kearns, Soldier, 197

Keck, Harry, 271

Keefe, Bill, 271

Keener, Sid, 271

Kellerman, Annette, 37

Kelly, Judge, 70

Kelly, Tom, 198

Kennedy, Bill, 32

Kessler, Gene, 271

Ketchel, Stanley, 63-74, 186, 254, 255, 257, 278, 281

Keyes, Bert, 257

Kid Chocolate, 279, 282

Kilbane, Johnny, 279, 282

King, Harry, 17

Kiviat, Abel, 33

Klaus, Frank, 282

Kline, Izzy, 276

Kofoed, Jack, 271

Kottman, Dr., 11

Kullavanijya, Brig. Gen. Pichai, 225, 232

La Barba, Fidel, 282

Laing, Jack, 271

Langford, Sam, 32, 78-80, 171, 190-192, 205, 277, 281

Lanigan, Ernie, 11

Lavigne, George Kid, 256, 282

Lee, Bill, 271

Leon, Benny, 169

Leon, Casper, 169

Leon, Jack, 169

Leonard, Benny, 32, 164, 166, 167, 168, 171, 177-180, 195, 199, 200,
249, 250, 276, 278, 282

Levinsky, Battling, 188, 281

Levy, Papa, 94

Lewin, Murray, 47, 158, 271

Lewis, Ed Strangler, 187

Lewis, Harry, 195, 282

Lewis, Ted Kid, 185, 281

Lewis, Whitey, 49, 271

Lewis, Willie, 32, 71-72, 185, 195-196, 282

Lieb, Frederick G., 11, 17

_Life_ Magazine, 222

Littleton, Happy, 194

Littlewood, 33

Ljungstrom, Gusta, 33

Lomski, Leo, 186-187

London, Jack, 258-259

Londos, Jim, 187

Long, Tom, 21

Long Island Bowl, 173, 186

Longacre Club, 168

Longboat, Tom, 33

Losada, Jess, 218, 220

Los Angeles _Examiner_, 265

Loubet, Nathaniel R., 248

Loughran, Tommy, 147, 185, 186-187, 202, 281

Louis, Joe, 4, 6, 80-81, 140-141, 146-155, 158, 171, 174, 176, 265,
273, 277, 279, 280, 281, 283

Louis, Lefty, 49

Lovelock, Jack, 237

Luchow’s Restaurant (New York City), 72

Lumley, Arthur, 261, 266, 267, 268

Lustig, Elias, 144

Lynch, Benny, 282

Lynch, Joe, 32, 282

Lyons, Dan, 122

Macadam, John, 272

Mace, Jem, 239, 240

MacFadden, Bernarr, 248

Mackey, Biz, 197, 198

Madden, Frankie, 49, 164-165

Madden, Owney, 46

Madison Square Garden, 8, 30-37, 99-107, 108, 110, 111, 121, 127,
132, 137, 138, 140, 141, 148, 174, 178, 180, 185, 186, 187, 189,
193, 200, 222, 241, 245, 246, 250, 256, 260, 263, 276

Madison Square Garden Corporation, 47

Maher, Peter, 32, 257

Maher, Robert, 214

Mandell, Sammy, 250

Mandot, Joe, 167

Manhattan Casino, 166, 168

Manhattan Railway Company, 101

Mann, Bill, 272

Marciano, Rocky, 4, 171, 176, 204, 218, 273, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281

Marianao (Oriente) Race Track (Cuba), 83

Markson, Harry, 271

Martin, Cannonball Eddie, 250

Martin, Denver Ed, 78

Martin, Plugger Bill, 32

Masterson, Bat, 246, 253, 266

Mastro, Frank, 272

Mathison, Charles F., 11, 17, 246, 253, 260, 261, 266

Maxim, Joey, 204, 270

Mayer, Judge Julius, 101-106

Mayes, Harold, 272

McArdle, Tom, 250

McAuliffe, Jack, 28, 185, 256, 268, 275

McAvoy, Jock, 174

McAvoy, Johnny, 193

McBeth, Bill, 246, 260

McCarney, Billy, 133

McCarty, Luther, 36-37, 82, 83, 265

McCarty, Tom, 188

McConachy, Clark, 237

McCormack, Macon, 253

McCoy, Al, 185

McCoy, Kid, 32, 118, 257, 281

McCue, Marty, 247

McDonald, Pat, 34, 92

McDonell, Leo, 271

McFarland, Floyd, 33

McFarland, Packey, 174-175

McGarry, Mike, 192

McGeehan, Bill, 115, 246, 253, 254, 259-263

McGinn, Joe, 269

McGoogan, Bill, 271

McGoorty, Eddie, 236

McGovern, Hughie, 169-170

McGovern, Phil, 169-170

McGovern, Terry, 8, 9, 166, 169-170, 205-206, 279, 282

McGrath, Matt, 34

McGuinness, James K., 17

McKenna, Betsy, 235

McKettrick, Dan, 258

McLaglen, Victor, 189-190

McLarnin, Jimmy, 185, 186, 193, 282

McLaughlin, Wurra Wurra, 246

McLean, Bobby, 100, 102, 105

McMahon, Jess, 133, 134

McNamee, Graham, 262

McPartland, Kid, 32, 195

McTigue, Mike, 91, 185, 186

McVey, Sam, 78

Mead, Eddie, 142

Meadows, Fred, 33

Mechanics Building (Boston), 59

Mellor, Sammy, 33

Mendez, Arturo, 219

Mendez, Miguel, 219

Mercer, Sid, 47, 262, 263, 264, 270

Meredith, Ted, 34

Merenghi, Tony, 272

Merriwell, Frank, 56

Miami _Herald_, 271

Michaels, Bobby, 32

Michigan Assassin, _see_ Ketchel, Stanley

Miley, Jack, 158

Military Athletic League, 43

Millard, Joe, 17

Miller, Freddie, 142, 143

“Millionaire Kid,” _see_ Barbour, W. Warren

Milwaukee _Sentinel_, 272

Minneapolis _Tribune_, 271

Miranda, General Fernandez y, 221-223

Miske, Billy, 257, 263

Mitchell, Charley, 32, 147, 150, 154

Mitchell, Big Jim, 36

Mitchell, Richie, 32, 178-180, 200

Mizner, Wilson, 70

Monte, Joe, 132, 133, 135

Montreal _Gazette_, 271

Montreal _Herald_, 271

Moore, Doc, 276

Moore, Pal, 282

Mora, General, 232

Moran, Frank, 32, 84

Moran, Owen, 155, 282

Morgan, “Dumb” Dan, 182-184

Morgan, Kayo, 216, 217

Morrissey, John, 46

_Morning Telegraph_, 102, 261-262, 270

Morris, Carl, 83, 202

Mott Haven Athletic Club, 40

Muldoon, William, 122-123, 187

Mulhare, Hughey, 17

Mullins, Paddy, 60

Muller, Eddie, 272

Mulvihill, Joe, 119

_Mundo, El_, 83, 217

Munsey, Frank A., 17, 247

Murphy, Billy, 257

Murphy, Bob, 271

Murphy, Harlem Tommy, 185, 200

Murray Hill Hotel (New York City), 16

Myers, Lon, 33

Naegeli’s Hotel (Hoboken, N.J.), 110

Nagler, Barney, 270

National Boxing Association, 154, 156, 229

National Sporting Club (New York City), 71

Naughton, Bill, 253

Neil, Frankie, 257

Nelson, Battling, 32, 180, 253, 256, 259, 282

Neusel, Walter, 146

New Orleans _Item_, 271

New York _American_, 145, 271

New York _Daily Mirror_, 270, 271

New York _Daily News_, 48, 270, 271

New York _Evening Sun_, 214, 266

New York _Globe_, 122, 261, 270

New York _Herald_, 14, 38, 44

New York _Herald Tribune_, 259, 270

New York _Journal_, 81, 145, 270

New York _Journal American_, 270, 271

New York Life Insurance Company, 100-101

New York _Mail-Telegram_, 17

New York _Morning Herald_, 17

New York _Morning Sun_, 17, 23, 27, 28, 36, 214

New York _Post_, 271

New York _Press_, 10, 11, 14-17, 22, 35, 37, 40, 44, 49, 212, 213,
247, 261

New York _Sun_, 261

New York _Sun Press_, 17

New York _Telegram_, 17, 38, 100, 101, 102, 125, 126, 135, 214, 247,
261, 264, 265

New York _Times_, 122, 213, 270, 271

New York _Tribune_, 14, 38, 263

New York University, 10, 11

New York _World_, 14, 66

New York _World-Telegram_, 260, 270

New Zealand, 235-240

New Zealand Sports Association, 235

Newark _Evening News_, 272

Newark _News_, 272

Newark _Star Ledger_, 272

Newman, Billy, 139

Newspapermen’s Military Corps, 25-26

Nichols, Joe, 271

Norfolk, Kid, 249

Norris, Jim, 264

O’Ben, Frank, 20

O’Brien, Jack, 67-70, 84, 185, 186, 278, 281

O’Connor, Jerry, 40-41

O’Donnell, Steve, 23-24

O’Dowd, Mike, 185

O’Grady, Martin, 137

Old Sports Writers’ Association, 269

O’Leary, Dan, 33

Olin, Bob, 147

O’Neil, Ike, 117

Orbeta, Police Chief, 216, 218

Orchid Kid, _see_ Carpentier, Georges

Oregon Athletic Club, 9, 10

Oriente Park Race Track (Marianao, Cuba), 83

O’Reilly, Nan, 17

O’Rourke, Tex, 83-89

O’Rourke, Tom, 71, 182, 205, 276

Pace, Ishmael, 131

Palmer, Pedlar, 8

Palzer, Al, 32

Panama, 212-215

Panama _Herald_, 215

Papke, Billy, 63, 71, 195, 236, 282

Parker, Dan, 261, 270

Parsons, Mr., 156-157

Patterson, Floyd, 57, 58, 171, 279

Payne, Emory, 59-60

Pecord, Ollie, 114-117

Pegler, Westbrook, 47-49, 260, 270

Pelkey, Arthur, 36, 82, 83, 265

Pennsylvania, University of, 33

Pep, Willie, 279, 282

Perez, Pascual, 282

Perry’s “drug store” (New York City), 30

Pershing, General John, 26

“Pete the Goat,” _see_ Stone, Pete

Petrolle, Billy, 185, 186, 253

Phal, Louis, _see_ Siki, Battling

Phao Sriyanonda, General, 229, 231

Phar Lap (race horse), 237

Philadelphia _Bulletin_, 271

Philadelphia Jack, _see_ O’Brien, Jack

Phillips, Dad, 79, 80

Phillips, Tom, 272

Pietri, Dorando, 20, 33

Pilates, Joseph, 127-128

Pilgrim, Paul, 34

Pippin, Roger, 271

Pitinoff, Rose, 38-40

Pittsburgh _Post-Gazette_, 271

Pittsburgh _Sun-Telegraph_, 271

Plattsburg Citizens’ Training Camp, 26

Plimmer, Billy, 32

_Police Gazette_, 266, 267-268

Pollock, Harry, 32, 258

Polo Grounds, 246

Poole, Bill, 46

Portland _Oregonian_, 272

Pottowatomie Giant, _see_ Willard, Jess

Povich, Shirley, 272

Powers, Jimmy, 271

Powers, Pat, 32

Pratt, Donald, 214

Pratt Institute, 10

Price, James R., 11, 14, 17, 83

Public Schools Athletic League, 8, 11-12

Puerto Rico, 215-218

Rademacher, Peter, 57, 58

Ratner, Willie, 272

Raymond, Lew, 190, 191

Reilly, Pete, 133

Reynolds, Captain, 170

Rice, Grantland, 246

Richman, Sammy, 218, 220

Rickard, George L. (Tex), 6, 31, 32, 33, 34, 37, 47, 57, 99-124,
125-127, 130-133, 135-137, 138-140, 146, 180, 245, 246, 247, 249,
250, 255, 263, 275, 278, 283

Rickard, Mrs. George L., 112

_Ring, The_, 81, 132, 139, 222, 240, 245-251, 265, 270

_Ring Record Book, The_, 240, 274

Ringling, John, 32, 104

Risko, Babe, 174

Ritchie, Willie, 32, 282

Robb, Doc, 276

Robinson, Murray, 271

Robinson, Pat, 272

Robinson, Ray, 273, 277, 278, 282

Rodel, George (Boer), 83, 188

Rodenbach, Billy, 58

Roeber, Ernest, 187

Rogers, Joe, 187

Roller, Dr., 187

Roman Athletic Club, 49, 168

Roosevelt, Franklin D., 216

Roosevelt, Theodore, 16, 19-24, 58, 258

Roosevelt, Theodore, Jr., 19-20

Root, Eddie, 33

Root, Jack, 281

Rose, Murray, 271

Rose, Ralph, 34

Rosenthal murder case, 49-51

Ross, Barney, 143, 185, 186, 282

Ross, Hugh, 198

Ross, Tony, 84

Rossano, Rocco, 190

Roswell, 33

Rothenberg, Walter, 127, 129, 135

Roxborough, John, 141

Rozetsky, Isaac, _see_ Smith, Sammy

Ruhlin, Gus, 204-205

Rumson Estate, 156-157

Runyon, Damon, 47, 49, 140, 143-144, 145, 246, 253, 254, 260, 270

Russell, Inspector, 165