JULY 2006
01 Rinsing Off the
Mouthpiece
By GorDoom
02 Poem of the Month
By Tom Smario
03 Pollack's Picks
By Adam Pollack
04 Top Women Worth Watching
and Televising
By Adam Pollack
05 Holman Williams Belongs
in
the Hall of Fame
By Harry Otty
06 Touching Gloves
With...
"Joltin" Jeff Chandler
By Dan Hanley
07 Puppy Garcia Was
Something Special
By Enrique Encinosa
08 Muhammad's Real War
By Cliff Endicott
09 Champagne On Ice
By Ron Lipton
10 "Dick Tiger: The Life and Times
of a Boxing Immortal"
By Adeyinka Makinde
11 Floyd Patterson:
He
Always Got Up
By Ron Lipton
12 Nat Fleischer, "Mr.
Boxing"
By Monte Cox
13 "Ring of Hate"
Book
Review by J.D. Vena
14 "Gilroy Was
Here"
Book Review by Mike Delisa
15 Audio
From the Archives [mp3]
The CBZ presents another classic boxing-themed radio
show. This month we have the Thin Man in "The Passionate Palooka," from July 6,
1948
|
Dick Tiger: The Life and
Times of a Boxing Immortal
By Adeyinka Makinde
Chapter Five/"Reborn" -- Mickey Duff, an ex-fighter and now the rising matchmaker for Harry Levene promotions, had
seen Tiger lose by a decision. To him, Tiger's six-wins-to-five-losses record spelt
"journeyman fighter" convenient fodder for Terry Downes, the great hope of British boxing.
"I thought I had done my homework," Duff recalled in his autobiography. "I had seen Tiger
lose to a nobody in Liverpool and thought he was a perfect opponent –- one who would make
a show but wouldn't be good enough to win."
A lot was expected of Downes. He had taken up boxing during a brief sojourn in the United
States, fighting for the Marines as well as in Golden Gloves competitions. His record was
solid enough to have him co-opted onto the American Olympic squad bound for the Melbourne
games until it was discovered that he was not an American national.
Vairo hastily completed the details with Duff, the bout being scheduled for May 14th
-barely two weeks after the Read match- at East London's Shoreditch Town Hall. Tiger, like
Vairo, was anxious to take the bout. It did not perturb him that he would receive £60
($170) of the total £185 purse fee since he had consistently earned less than this on the
northwest circuit. This was an opportunity. What struck him most was the extent of Downes'
popularity and the expectations that were being dumped on his young shoulders. The only
thing bothering him about the fight was his weight, the matter that had caused him to pay
forfeit to Read.
On the morning of the fight, he stood on the scales and was stunned to hear his weight
declared as being one and a half pounds above the stipulated weight of eleven stone and
nine pounds. The room, filled with pressmen and assorted spectators, broke out into a
general titter. He surveyed the faces impassively but inwardly he burned with anger. The
promoters agreed to give him one hour to shed the excess. He spurned an offer to use the
facilities of a nearby Turkish bath because of the weakening effects on the body and
instead scurried around borrowing garments, which he piled on his torso before embarking
on a furious workout. It proved just enough to make the weight.
Looking on, Downes had reason to be confident. Tiger's record, for one, suggested that he
was up against a 'trial horse.' He had seen Tiger demolish Johnny Read but he reckoned the
result had been hugely influenced by Read's lack of motivation on account of his impending
emigration to Canada. Although Tiger appeared to him to be a "well built fighter," Downes
suspected that Tiger's weighing in exertions would likely have left him in a weakened
state.
Later on that evening, the hall quickly filled to capacity. The demand for tickets had
been so great that "hundreds" were reportedly locked outside. Inside the smallness of the
venue ensured a semi-claustrophobic atmosphere as spectators, many of them sitting and
standing shoulder-to-shoulder crowded around the ring. Above them were a number of
balconies that hung steeply, seemingly above the ring, the occupants, according to Reg
Gutteridge "practically breathing down the necks of the contestants."
At the din of the opening bell, Downes sprang out of his corner throwing leather from all
angles -- aiming, Tiger surmised, to secure a quick rout over what he expected to be a
weight weakened, muscle bound duck. Tiger held his ground until Downes waded into a
powerful left hook, which deposited him on to the canvas for a seven count. At this moment
Tiger would claim later that he knew his man was beaten. With indecent haste, Downes
scrambled up, dusting the resin from his scarlet trunks. He was still in the process of
gathering his senses when the referee yelled for both men to "box on." Outweighed by six
pounds, Downes was yet to shake off the effects of the blows when in the second round
another of Tiger's left hooks sent him tumbling over. But this did not finish him off. He
gathered himself again and both men traded punches with some of Downes' combinations
ending under Tiger's heart. The damage, nevertheless had already been done and while Tiger
waited for the sounding of the seventh round, Downes' handlers, mindful no doubt about the
effects that a prolonged assault would have on their youthful charge, decided to withdraw
him from the contest.
"That fight, he found himself," says Downes. "He'd become acclimatised. He'd been stuck in
Liverpool probably not eating properly and God knows what. Afterwards he went from glory
to glory. I don't put losing down to overconfidence; I put it down to Dick being a good
fighter. He caught me with a good punch and that was it." He recalls Tiger fondly. "He was
a wonderful gentleman. I saw him in New York a couple of times and another time in Boston
at the time I fought Paul Pender. Dick was always friendly and hospitable. We had a
repartee going on between us. He would call me 'Mr. Terry' and ask me how I was and I'd
tell him, 'Not bloody well, thanks to you'!"
Back in his dressing room, Downes, the irrepressibly loquacious wit, bandied trademark
quips in response to the questions being asked by the journalists. When one asked him
whether he thought Tiger might have being too big for him he responded, "Yeah, he did look
a big middleweight to me too, then I realised I was lying down and he was standing up."
Another then asked him which opponent he would like to face next and Downes shot back a
gem:
"I'd like it to be the bastard who suggested Dick Tiger."
While he waited for developments to crystallise, Tiger busied himself with a succession of
opponents. Freddie De Largy was stopped in Birmingham, Jean Roellet was decisioned in Hull
while previous opponents, Jimmy Lynas and Johnny Read were unable to last the distance.
A date was finally set for a title fight with McAteer on March 27. His employers at the
paint factory granted him a month's leave of absence. For Tiger the moment of fulfilment
was at hand and he was determined to seize it. For a man who instinctually trained for
bouts with a zeal often bordering on the fanatical, Tiger surpassed himself this time and
amazed those who witnessed his preparations. In all, he accumulated 100 rounds of sparring
at the Professional Boxers Association gym and at Transport House.
The bout was scheduled to take place at the Liverpool Stadium, a venue with an unnerving
reputation for being the 'graveyard of the champions.' Best Senior had actually built the
stadium on the site of an old churchyard, an act which had brought storms of protest from
sections in the Liverpool community. Superstition aside, Tiger had other things to worry
about. The ring selected by the stadium for one measured in at 18 feet –four feet longer
than the length of rings to which he was accustomed. Ring size can be an important
consideration for fighters when set against the 'styles' they adopt. Boxers who rely on
mobility to achieve distance from their opponents by applying lateral movement with
retreating manoeuvres, are apt to prefer the inherent advantages of space which the larger
ring brings while those with a combative bent, geared towards the employing of close
fighting techniques are logically disposed to prefer the smaller ring where their ability
to successfully utilise the technique referred to as 'cutting off the ring,' (applying
stepping motions that shorten the distance between himself and his opponent) is greatly
enhanced. The tactics employed by McAteer in the previous meeting would have weighed
heavily on his mind. But if he felt disadvantaged in this regard, there were other areas
which his opponents camp were confident would work against him. The championship duration
for one would be in effect and while McAteer had successfully negotiated 15 rounds, Tiger
had not.
His other source of worry was his weight, that is, of his ability to reduce himself down
to the championship standard limit of one 160 pounds. It was and is the custom for boxers
to fight their non-title bouts outside the demarcated title weight limits and Tiger had
rarely been called upon to fight within the middleweight limit in most of his Nigerian and
British bouts. What would have preyed on his mind was the knowledge that the maturation of
the body over time diminishes the boxer's capacity to reduce his weight while at the same
time keeping his strength. Aware, no doubt, of Tiger's problems in reducing before his
bouts with Johnny Read and Terry Downes, Johnny Campbell was obviously indulging in
psychological mind games when he pointed out that Tiger had never engaged in a contest at
less than three pounds over the middleweight limit. Indeed many observers, including
Douglas Collister, were doubtful that his naturally stocky physique would make it
practicable for him to continue to campaign as a middleweight for much longer.
It was a day of the changing of the guard. In the early hours of March 27th, Radio Moscow
announced that Nikita Khrushchev had relieved Nikolai Bulganin of the Soviet premiership.
Tiger, who had watched two of his compatriots, Sandy Manuel and Roy Jacobs, win their
preliminary contests by knockout, stepped into the ring wearing a deep blue dressing gown.
The cheers from the crowd brought a brief grin as he strode purposefully around the ring
waiting for McAteer's entrance. His thoughts tracked back to their last encounter, their
sparring sessions and to the strategy he had devised along with Foran and Vairo. All were
convinced that his priority would be to prevent McAteer from settling down to his
classical boxing posture. He knew of McAteer's flaws. The champion was for instance
inclined to drop his left hand after throwing the jab. McAteer also had a habit of
carelessly catapulting himself off the ropes.
The opening rounds were uneventful, seeming largely to be a continuation of the pattern
developed in the first meeting. McAteer constantly stuck out a long left jab at him as he
retreated, while Tiger plodded forward, hoping for an opportunity to breach the champions
guard. Five rounds passed and Tiger lagged behind McAteer on the judges score sheets.
Fate, however, now dealt an intervening hand. The fans in the stadium, no doubt aware of
the dullness of the first bout, were getting restless at the prospect of sitting through
another staid encounter and chanted for both men to slug it out. McAteer responded by
adopting a more stationary position the result of which enabled Tiger to get in close to
his man. A series of intense exchanges ensued. The crowd rose to this, roaring their
approval at each hook, cross and uppercut. In the midsts of this clanger, fans of the
champion worried at the sight of McAteer receiving a beating, beseeched him to "Box! Box!
Box!" and advised him to "Keep away Pat!" But to Tiger's relief, McAteer paid them no
heed.
In round six, two swift left hooks landed squarely on McAteer's chin buckling his knees
and forcing him to gasp for air. The effect of this according to the Liverpool Echo, was
to send McAteer "plunging across the ring like a hop, skip and jump contestant." Although
now largely bereft of his customary ring elegance and poise, McAteer was able to summon
attacks of his own. But when he caught Tiger in the nose with a full-blooded swing,
retribution came swiftly with a left hook that caused McAteer to stagger backwards against
the ropes near to his corner.
The end came in the ninth. McAteer now bled from the nose, his mouth was
permanently agape and the strain on his legs was becoming intolerable. At the two minute
mark, Tiger shot out a left-right combination that froze the champion, setting him up for
the coup de grace, a sweeping hook that deposited McAteer on the floor. Tiger watched as
he attempted vainly to raise himself only to tumble over into a heap. Referee Tommy Little
stepped in to wave the bout over.
After he was roused, McAteer went over to congratulate the new champion. He recalls, "(In
the first fight), I took him too lightly. I was training but my heart wasn't in it. He
took me by surprise and they gave us a draw. The next time we boxed, he'd improved. People
said to me, 'What punch did he hit you with?' and I said, 'I didn't see it, I was
asleep.'"
Still on leave, Tiger spent the next day relaxing and contemplating his future. It was the
sort of future that the bedraggled journeyman bound boxer of one year past could only have
viewed as a virtually unattainable dream. The reviews in the morning papers would have
pleased him, his performance having received praise from previously disbelieving quarters.
The Daily Mail's Harry Carpenter for one had in the past been unimpressed by what he
termed Tiger's "wild swinging." Against McAteer however, he noted that Tiger "hit with
deadly precision and a calculating grimness."
There were those who felt that Tiger had reached his finite level. Of course, they argued,
there was no harm in facing the top middleweight contenders and trying his luck as it were
-- that was his prerogative, but they felt that he was in essence a limited fighter who
appeared to rely more on strength than skill. One journalist wrote that he could 'come
close' to winning a title but no more. Others like Douglas Collister felt him capable but
were doubtful of his chances of continuing to make the middleweight championship limit.
Nevertheless, enough support and encouragement came from British fight fans, promoters and
sportswriters; all sensing, perhaps, expecting that he would in the words of a Boxing News
editorial, "Bridge the gap that has existed between rated American and British
middleweights since Randolph Turpin."
It was a gap that would not be narrowed if he continued to fight the likes of Billy
Ellaway whom he dismissed in two rounds at the Liverpool Stadium. He needed quality
opposition of the sort that could only come from the United States. A match with Gene
Fullmer was touted and was looking a distinct possibility before the American came down
with a serious kidney ailment.
Offers, for his services continued to land on Vairo's desk coming from promoters like
Johnnie Best Junior, Stan Baker and Reg King. Another from Australia involved him fighting
a series of bouts in Sydney. While Vairo mulled over them, he was hopeful that Tiger would
be able to fight the winner of the impending contest between Terry Downes and Phil
Edwards. Later, he would enter into negotiations with representatives of Clive Steward,
the Australian middleweight champion, with the view to defending his Empire title in
Sydney. Despite the welter of activity, it was apparent by August of 1958 that none of the
promoters were in a position to deliver Tiger with an adequate opponent: "There is neither
anyone on the continent that wants Dick Tiger nor anyone available they want to put in
with him" Vairo sighed.
The frustrations caused by the lack of suitable opposition and the searing ambition
kindling in him had by now convinced Tiger of the need to make wholesale changes in the
handling of his career. While he may have deferred to Vairo in public, the true state of
relations between both men was far from being all sweetness and light. Much of this
centred on Tiger agitating for Vairo to provide him with meaningful American opposition,
that is, of the sort that would enable him to break into the world rankings. This he
realised would not be achieved by engaging in 'dead end' excursions against the likes of
Downes and Steward.
It had always been impressed upon him from the time of his arrival in Liverpool that if he
truly wished to win the world championship, his ultimate destination would have to be the
United States. Peter Banasko, whose indifferent career had perhaps in part have been
shaped by the realisation that he would never be able to fight for the national title of
the country of his birth, had been fond of telling his black fighters that sport, and in
particular, boxing, was one of the few areas in American life where the issue of racial
discrimination had been resolved to the to the extent that it compared more favourably to
the situation in Britain: If you were good enough, you would not be denied the prizes or
the purses.
On that score, Hogan Bassey was in a position to attest. The world featherweight champion,
by now fighting regularly in America, was embarked on lucrative non-title bouts against
the likes of former world champion Willie Pep, topping up the earnings he received for his
championship defences. Bassey was instrumental in bringing Tiger to the attention of his
American representative, Wilfred 'Jersey' Jones. In 1957, against many odds, Jones had
contrived to get Bassey into the world championship elimination series that had been
organised after Sandy Saddler had been forced into retirement because of injuries he had
sustained in an automobile accident. As Tiger later recalled "It was Hogan Bassey who
suggested that I come to America and have Jersey Jones handle me. Bassey was (British)
Empire champion at the time, but that didn't mean anything in America and Hogan was
unknown. Jones had some strong opposition getting him into the tournament –there were so
many other featherweights with better records- but he did it and Hogan went on to become
world champion. Bassey convinced me that what Jones had done for him, he probably could do
for me."
The transaction with Jones meant that he would not only be leaving England but would also
have to sever his association with Vairo whom his friend, Foran had grown to dislike.
"Maurice thought the world of Dick and vice versa," relates Jim Jenkinson, Treasurer of
the Merseyside Ex-Boxers Association, "He didn't get on with Vairo because he said Vairo
got him a job in a bloody paint factory. Of all the places to put him, with the fumes and
everything." Foran for his part insists that he did not have a problem with Vairo,
claiming, "it was Dick who didn't get on with him."
That aside, money may well have featured as a point of contention and although Tiger would
not outwardly assert to being ripped off by Vairo, the brief measured reflection of his
stable mate, Harry Scott speaks volumes. "Vairo" he says, was a shrewd man." Adding the
all too familiar pugilists lament that "boxers retire poor while managers get rich."
By the beginning of Autumn, Tiger and Vairo had settled on two matters: An opponent,
Yolande Pompey was lined up on a Jack Solomons' package to take place on October 16th at
London's Wembley Pool. Afterwards, he would depart for Nigeria for a long awaited break;
this Tiger had insisted upon after turning down Vairo's proposal that he face Clive
Steward in Australia, a month after tackling Pompey.
Pompey was a London based Trinidadian who two years earlier had made an unsuccessful
attempt at wresting the world's light heavyweight title from Archie Moore. More recently,
in his last contest, Pompey, who at this moment was the number eight-ranked contender in
that weight division, had humiliated the great Randolph Turpin in a second round stoppage
victory. The fight effectively ended Turpin's career.
Faced once more with the predicament of taking an overweight contest, Vairo had insisted
that Pompey come in at no more than 12 stones. The punches exchanged with Pompey were
particularly fierce and directed largely at each man's mid-section. At the end, it was
Pompey, his face bloodied after ten hard fought pounds who came out the worse for wear and
the referee raised Tiger's hand in victory.
The following morning's papers were unanimous in their praise of his performance, most
seeming to place emphasis on his physical strength. Harry Carpenter of the Daily Mail
wrote "There can be few men stronger than Tiger in this country today" while the News
Chronicle's Gerard Walker noted that "every time Tiger got home, there was genuine power
behind the punch." The Daily Telegraph's sportswriter opined that while "Tiger's
performance may not have been spectacular, it was workman like and relentless."
On Monday, February 16th, he and Abigail finally flew to London. The following day, Vairo
received them at the airport and accompanied them on the London to Liverpool intercity
carriage, arriving at the train station at 4.30 in the afternoon.
Vairo, Tiger discovered had been working furiously at securing him a series of fights
against world title contenders. In January he had written to Britain's representative on
the World Boxing Championships Committee, Onslow Fane, imploring the Old Etonian to ensure
that Tiger received a fair hearing in the event of a need to stage the world title
eliminators that were expected if Sugar Ray Robinson was stripped of his middleweight
title. Vairo turned to Johnnie Best Junior who was busy making preparations for Liverpool
Stadium's annual Grand National Week Show, bouts which were held around the week of
Britain's premier horse racing event, the Grand National. Best cabled Lew Burston, a New
York City based agent, requesting that he send he send a 'top class' American as
opposition for Tiger. Best had by this time given up hope of luring Sugar Ray Robinson to
meet Tiger at the stadium and informed Vairo that the most he could hope for was to get
Tiger a spot on the bill of the proposed 'super contest' between Robinson and Archie Moore
touted to take place in New York at the end of June.
Burston did deliver an opponent for Tiger, the Brooklyn born Randy Sandy. Tall and leanly
built, Sandy boasted a solid if not spectacular record; the sort that Vairo hoped would
provide the stern but tameable opposition that Tiger needed to overcome in order to break
into the world rankings. Tiger would be conceding five inches in reach and height but
would have reasoned that the Americans eleven stone seven weight spread over a six foot
plus frame would be no match for him in the area of physical strength. This proved to be
the case. He plotted his way past Sandy's long jab, pummelling his torso with 'complete
gusto and relish.' By the end of the sixth, he had succeeded inflicting a cut above
Sandy's eye. But to Tiger's amazement and the audience's dismay, it was Sandy's hand that
the referee raised. Many in the crowd rose, voicing their collective disapprobation with
slow handclaps and foot stomps.
Observers noted the calm, stoical manner in which Tiger took the loss and contrasted this
with Vairo's outbursts in Tiger's packed dressing room. His world appeared to be in
tatters when announcing that the decision "has made me seriously consider whether to quit
boxing."
"It has been my life's ambition to manage a world champion," he continued, "and in Dick
Tiger, thought I had the chance to achieve this."
For Vairo, however, the anguish continued. Two years had passed since he had signed Tiger
and their contract was now up for renewal. Vairo, who had recently re-signed Sandy Manuel,
now on a tour of Australia, may have expected Tiger to do the same, but when he broached
the matter, Tiger informed him that he had made alternative arrangements. "I remember that
he went back to visit his family in Nigeria," recalls Michael Valerio, "and whilst he was
away, my uncle Tony who had a co-promoter in New York, a chap named Mickey Vance, was
negotiating a bout with Sugar Ray Robinson. In that interim period while Tiger was away,
he had actually clinched a deal with him. But unfortunately, Tiger signed with somebody,
which made him ineligible to go ahead with the fight. When he came back, he hit my uncle
Tony with the news that he had signed with another manager. And I remember this because my
uncle Tony said that it was the only time in his life that he knew he had a world
champion. But it took Dick Tiger another (three) years to get a crack at the title."
Some years later, a writer to Boxing News would claim to have seen a copy of a contract
detailing the terms of a proposed bout with Sugar Ray Robinson. The agreement, which
according to the writer was dated in 1958, apparently bore the consenting signature of
George Gainsford, Robinson's manager. Yet even if true, the agreement would appear not to
have been binding on the notoriously difficult champion, at the time in debt to the United
States Inland Revenue Service, who consistently haggled with promoters over purse sizes
far in excess of the maximum monies that would generate out of a fight with Tiger. It is
unlikely that Robinson would have considered Tiger, then virtually unknown in America, as
a viable money making exercise, and also, perhaps not worth the risk.
Talk that Tiger had thrown away the chance of a fight with Robinson would do the rounds in
Merseyside for years, but what is more likely to be the case is that the supposed document
purporting to be a contract to fight Robinson was in fact a contract giving Gainsford the
right to be Tiger's American representative when as Vairo expected, Tiger would relocate
over there. The fact that Tiger did not renew his contract with Vairo, automatically
invalidated it.
Tony Vairo was devastated and felt bitterly let down by Tiger, although his nephew insists
that there was no lasting feelings of betrayal "He definitely knew that Tiger would be the
champion and that was the most ironic part about it," Valerio says, "but, I don't think
there was any bitterness later on. They had made up as far as friends were concerned
because business is business, money is money."
This may well be a sugar coating of the realities; Vairo afterall had been the one to
assume responsibility over Tiger when other managers had shunned him. It reminded Peter
Banasko of the unfulfilled promise of guiding his fighter to the denouement of ring glory.
"Tony," he wrote years later, "must get all the credit for Tiger's rise to the top like me
with Bassey but neither of us was there as we should and could have been when both became
world champions."
The return with Sandy was held three weeks later at London's Wembley Pool. On this
occasion, Sandy, having learned a lot from the first meeting, went about matters in a
manner designed to stifle Tiger; keeping his distance and constantly grabbing Tiger into
clinches. His other tactic centred on mirth. "Sandy," wrote an on looking correspondent,
"often had the crowd roaring with some amusing antics. At times, Tiger was left standing
in the middle of the ring while the American strolled round the ropes twirling his arms
windmill fashion." Sandy joked in between the furtive, painless jabs he was throwing going
as far as playfully patting Tiger at the back of his trunks at the end of the sixth. Tiger
was visibly outraged. Although Tiger's persistent display of aggression won him the fight,
the decision drew boos from sections of the arena convinced that Sandy's tactics had won
him the bout. Sandy's manager was convinced that his fighter had won and he stormed
towards the press section to solicit help in finding an official of the B.B.B.C. with whom
he intended to lodge a complaint.
Tiger was nonplussed. All that mattered to him was that the loss had been reversed. For
the last time in his career, he stepped out of a British ring and would now step onto a
far greater stage: that of America.
Dick Tiger: The Life and Times of a Boxing Immortal (ISBN 1595710426) published by
Word Association Publishers. Available from amazon.com.
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