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The Biographies

Newsletter th Volume 7 No 10 – 9 Oct , 2011 www.boxingbiographies.com

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Name: Career Record: click Alias: Joseph Youngs Nationality: US American Birthplace: Redwood, NY Hometown: Van Nuys, CA Born: 1870-03-31 Died: 1948-08-03 Age at Death: 78 Stance: Orthodox Height: 5' 7� Trainer: Jack Hamilton Manager: Captain Jim Westcott

Tommy Ryan 1911-12 articles

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

There are 38 weekly instalments and I have reproduced them with as much accuracy as possible given the poor quality of some of the documents. In addition to the text I have added various other items of interest. The remaining articles are in the next edition.

Part 1 - 3rd September 1911

It is I believe the custom to start a story of a person’s life history with the facts of his birth. I shall doubtless surprise some of my readers by statements which I shall make in this as well as the other articles. The general impression among ring followers all over the country is that I am of Jewish parentage. While I have nothing but the highest regard for that race, I am not a member of it. I was born in the little town of Redwood in Jefferson County, 2

New York on March 31 1870. My father was a Frenchman and my mother English I was christened Joseph Younges ( note the spelling, ) how I came to be known as Tommy Ryan will be made known in another article. When I was a youngster my parents moved to Syracuse and I received my early Education in the public schools in Salt City. While I have been away from Syracuse at various times for considerable periods I still look upon that city as my home and will always be viewed by me as such.

However, the boyhood joys and troubles of a youngster will hardly be of interest to the great majority of my readers so I will pass over fifteen years by simply, stating that I had as many troubles and scrapes as the average youngster and managed to live through them. My fifteenth birthday found me as a water boy with one of the construction gangs on the Toledo & Ann Arbor railway in . The line was being constructed at that time, and it was among the railway labourers that I got my first smack of fighting. Camps were erected along the line of the railway several miles apart. Part of the equipment of every camp seemed to be a few pairs of boxing gloves, for men living a clean, healthy life. in the open are always followers of any clean, healthful sport, such as boxing prior to going to Michigan I had never seer, any regular boxing bouts.

While I was in Syracuse a man named Meyers who used to keep a saloon on Railroad street and every Saturday night there would be a couple of short bouts in the bar room. . As I was a small boy at that time I was frequently kicked out. In fact, I was never allowed In the room when any of the men knew I was there. They say that boys will be boys, and when a boy wants to see anything he will generally succeed. I was no exception, and I managed by devious ways to see a few of these bouts. After I had been in the construction camp for a short time I was allowed to put on the gloves myself. Right here I want to tell my readers that the of those days and the glove of to-day are entirely different things, though known, by the same name. The boxing glove of I885 was a skin-tight leather glove that was devised more for the protection of the hand of the boxer wearing it than for the protection of the man upon whom it was to be used.

Boxing seemed to come quite natural To me I was quick on my feet and could use my hands rather well I have never had a boxing lesson In my life, but experience Is the best lesson that any one can have. I was simply put up against a man and he went after me. It was up to me to look out for myself, and It was in such bouts that I learned the first movements of side- stepping, feinting and parrying that afterwards gave me a reputation in the boxing world. Before I had been boxing many weeks I was able to outbox any man in the camp . My fellow workers took considerable pride in my ability and being but a youngster, I came to look upon myself as rather clever. It gave me confidence, something that is greatly needed to 3

make a good boxer However, there is such a thing as being over-confident, but I am not going to take up that question here.

The various camps soon began to arrange bouts between their respective boxing champions – the best man In the camp meeting the best of another. When such a bout was arranged the men from our camp would get out the hand cars and make the trip to the camp where the bout would be held. I was taken the round of all the camps and was returned a winner in every bout. The bouts were all with the skin-tight gloves and such things as rounds were unknown. There would be a signal to start, and it was a case of keep fighting until one man was knocked out or until one gave up. Some of those camp fights of mine lasted only a few minutes while others required a full hour. The bouts usually took place in a big mess house or in the open air. There were no padded canvas floors to fall upon, no skilled seconds to take care of you every three minutes. The floors were uneven, rough and hard. Stimulants during the bouts were entirely out of the question.

Part 2 Some early fights

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

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

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

With my reputation as a boxer spreading outside the camp it became necessary that I take some name or give my own .I was afraid I would be in for a good ―Tanning ― if I gave my own name and my father heard about it so I took a name that seemed easy to remember. Tommy Ryan, the brewer, was mayor of Syracuse, my home town at that time. The name was easy to remember so I promptly christened myself ―Tommy Ryan‖ and to this day I am known by in connection with ring affairs. There are few fans that would recognize my ring career under the name of Joseph Youngs. 4

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

Johnson was clever and a bit heavier than I. He also had a bit more ring experience and I found It a bit hard to get used to the rules. However, my foot work again came to my aid for I danced around Johnson after three rounds and knocked him out in the fifth. This bout added to my reputation I became known outside of the construction camps and nearby towns and a few of the fans in the cities began to hear of ―a clever and hard hitting kid in the railway camps‖

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

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

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

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

Shaughnessy was a figure in the boxing world; I was almost an absolute unknown. Few persons thought that I stood even a chance with the experienced man, I was a stranger in a strange city. Still in my teens, I had a lot to learn about the ring game. I had no trainer, no place to train and no one to advise me. I knew, of course, that I would have to be in fine condition to beat Shaughnessy, for such a thing as him defeating me never entered my head. Every morning I used to go out to the race track and have a long run. For a few cents I would get a boy to rub me down after my exertions and that was the sum total of my training.

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Part 3 The Bout With Shaughnessy

After a week of training, if running around a race track could be called that, I was ready to go against Martin Shaughnessy the pride of Detroit. The bout came of at a road house known as Giffs Place a few miles out of Detroit . the ring was a small one and occupied the full width of the building, being placed in the centre with seats on two sides. We used ordinary kid gloves with the finger tips cut off.

When everything seemed ready Shaughnessy sized me up and then Made a demand that the winner of the bout should take the whole purse. Evidently my appearance was not very prepossessing and the Detroiter thought he has a chance of some easy money. Well Martin did not get that money and his try for it was not an easy one. I imagine he was sorry for his bargain before the bout had progressed five rounds for it was one tough battle.

I had very few friends in the audience which was jammed on two sides of the ring. I did not even know anything about my seconds. They were supplied by the promoter but they turned out to be honest and competent. My chief second was a well known amateur boxer and athlete in Detroit, I forget his name, but I remember him being a fine fellow. He was elected Sheriff of Detroit in recent years. While an amateur He was an excellent judge of how to map out a battle and he gave me a lot of help in that bout.

Everything seemed to go in the ring in those days, butting with your elbows, heeling the glove over your opponents face and other such tactics were not frowned upon. The one who had the most friends generally got away with it. And Martin Shaughnessy proved an adept at all the tactics in the boxing game.

For twelve rounds it was a case of give and take, I was the younger but Shaughnessy had the experience. He liked to fight at close quarters but I had a better knowledge of footwork than the veteran and did not permit this. Both of us were pretty well marked up.

In the 13th round I got in a right and left to the jaw and Shaughnessy toppled to the floor and took the count of ten. I had won the bout and after speaking to my seconds I was about to leave the ring when someone hit me from behind. I turned quickly and found my late opponent again facing me. The fans had not taken the defeat of their idol any to well and everybody seemed to want another bout .I had no particular objection for Shaughnessy now had no terror for me. I knew in my heart that I was his master.

The referee told me that I had won the fight fair and square and advised me to leave the ring. I was feeling too good to take his advice in the face of the taunts of Shaughnessy’s friends. Tossing the coat I had wrapped about my shoulders to my seconds I announced that I was going to fight the Detroiter again and would Surely knock him out so decisively that there would be no come back. I was mad ―clear through‖ 6

The bell rang, it was called the 14th round. Some may call it the 1st round of a second fight. I shall continue to refer to it as one fight. I left my corner and met Shaughnessy in the centre of the ring. Feinting with my right he swung a right to my face, landing on my nose and breaking it. This made me even madder than I was before. I was down and struck the bare boards with my face. There was no padding in those days. The boards raised a bump on my left eye and when I got up at the count of eight I found I could hardly see out of it. How I lasted that round I cannot tell. It seemed as if the end might come at any minute.

My seconds gave me good attention and I was in pretty fair shape for the opening of the 15th and as it progressed I became stronger. For three or four rounds things were pretty even, each of us taking hard punishment. After the 20th my faster work began to bother him and in the 23rd I broke down his guard and finally got inside to land two stiff uppercuts. When he went down it was to stay for many minutes. There was no question about the second knockout.

When I was rubbed down and dressed I looked up the promoter to get the purse he handed me $33 . Think of that sum for 23 rounds of gruelling fighting. Why, in my fight club in Syracuse I have paid from $25 -$75 for each boy in the preliminaries. They now fight with padded gloves in a fine ring and none of the preliminaries went more than 6 rounds. There has been a big change in the 22 yrs since I met Shaughnessy.

While the financial gain was small I believe I got value in other ways. For one thing I had the experience and the other that when a boxer is once given the decision he should leave the ring and not try to earn it a second time. I have always believed luck was with me in the second contest. In my bouts with the railway workers which numbered close to 200 in the three years I usually outclassed my opponent. Such was not the case with Shaughnessy. I learned I must keep my head at all times no matter what the provocation.

The cost of living was not a breakfast table topic in those days and the meagre purse I won lasted me a few weeks until I was matched with Mike Dunn. He was rated as the 2nd best lightweight in Detroit. The top honours generally being accorded to Shaughnessy. Dunn had a large following and when I defeated Shaughnessy he began to demand a match with me. I was needing the money for I had discovered that being a professional pugilist does not bring in the money unless you earn it in the ring, or rather it did not in those days. Vaudeville and moving pictures are adjuncts of the modern and not the old ring game. So I took the match with Dunn.

Part 4 How Ryan watched Opponents

While I was training for the bout with Dunn I began to think over the things I had learned in my double fight with Shaughnessy I had noticed that during the second part of the Shaughnessy fight that I could "keep cases" on my opponent while crouched by watching his left knee. One of my eyes was practically closed during the final nine rounds of the Shaughnessy fight and I found it difficult to maintain the crouch, which I used in my style of fighting, and keep careful watch, on the blows my opponent might try to land on me. 7

In my bout with the railway man I had noticed that-a man cannot hit a blow with either hand without bending the left knee in some way — it might be but a twitch or the knee might make a big bend. Use of this knowledge did not come to me until I fought Shaughnessy. And at that time it was a case of necessity being the mother of invention. Like the crouch and footwork, in fact all my boxing, this was my own invention if such a word can be used. I never had a boxing lesson in my life.

For the bout with Mike Dunn I had some assistance in training and I began to make a careful study of that left knee. I got down the tricks of the bends fairly well, though it was two or three years later before I had really mastered them. By that time I could tell by looking at my opponent's left knee just what sort of a blow he would attempt.

Some scientists will doubtless claim that this statement is in error, and that the only way .to know in advance of the intent to use the muscles of the human body is through looking at the eye. In my opinion, the eye is sometimes deceptive, but I have never yet had the knee fail me. If a man starts one blow and then shifts quickly to another, the left knee will "telegraph" the change. I advise the doubting ones to test this for themselves.

But to get back to my bout with Dunn. As I have already stated he was a great favourite in Detroit at that time and there was a good attendance, such as attendance went in those days, at our fight which was staged in an old Icehouse just outside the Detroit city limits. The ring was built in the centre of the big building with four stakes and a few pieces of rope. There was no padded floor and we fought on the tanbark, which is not the best thing in the world, as anyone who has had experience with it can tell. The dust was almost choking at times. The gloves were the ordinary kid gloves with the finger tips cut off and the referee announced that the fight was to be to a finish.

Dunn went at me as if he wanted to make the bout a short one, but I "kept my head" and fought coolly for a few rounds and when he began to tire I took the aggressive. My crouch was something new to Dunn and he could not solve the trick of landing telling blows, while It enabled me to get under his guard with body punches time and again. These gradually wore him down and be took the count in the ninth, round. There was no question about my victory this time, for Dunn was plainly a beaten man when he was revived and taken to his corner.

My victories over Shaughnessy and Dunn gave me quite a reputation in and around Detroit. I was looked upon as a coming lightweight and began to have quite a little following of my own. And a following is a necessity to a boxer or fighter; even to this day, for the man without supporters is hardly considered. 8

My following gave me some standing with the matchmakers of the Detroit clubs, or perhaps I should have called them promoters, for at that time under the management and direction of one man. He took few risks, for the bouts would be held in the open or in some old building. He had no fat guarantees to make up and no high rents to pay. The men worked on percentage basis and their earning depended entirely upon their earning powers.

Martin Shaughnessy and his friend started an agitation for another contest and as they soon located a promoter who would stage the affair, I signed the articles. This time I fought upon the bare ground. The ring was staked out on the lakeshore near Detroit and we had quite an audience standing around for there were no ringside reserve seats. The ground was very uneven and this upset my calculations.

I knew that I would have no difficulty in knocking him out in a few rounds. But I had based my estimates upon the showing he made on a board floor and I soon discovered that there is a bit of difference between boards and earth. With the firm boards beneath my feet I was able to use some of the tricks of footwork that I had learned. On the ground I found that I could not do this and that I must stand up and exchange blows without much chance of shifting and feinting. Shaughnessy was not as greatly handicapped as I on the ground, for he had little knowledge of footwork and his favourite method was to stand up and wallop away.

I wasn't long in discovering that had a big contest on my hands Shaughnessy could hit a stiff blow and I went to the ground several times as he did before my punches. The body was the weak spot on Shaughnessy’s defence and I began to play for it. While he hammered away indiscriminately any place he saw an opening. For nearly forty rounds the battle was a case of give and take, now in his favour and again in mine. We were both pretty well battered up, but my opponent seemed to be even more tired than I was and that gave me courage.

When the forty-seventh round arrived we were both near that stage of physical exhaustion which is best known as "all in." I managed to get my tired legs into action and Shaughnessy seemed dazed in trying to find me. After a hard left to the body Shaughnessy's guard dropped and waded in with, a right to the point of the jaw and the bout was over

Part 5

The prestige I had gained through my victories over Shaughnessy and Dunn was considerable. I was something more than a ―Mere Unknown‖ and the sporting writers began to take notice of my work. More than one critic undertook to show just why that crouch I used in the ring was going to do me more harm than good. Every boxer or fighter has one little trick, some have more. These little tricks soon become known

To the followers of the game and are much talked and written about. In my case it was the crouch and to a lesser extent my footwork. In later years some of the really wise critics came to see that each was in a large measure dependent upon the other and that of the two the footwork was the more important.

At this time Jimmy Murphy was champion of the state of Michigan .He was much feared by the lightweight division because of his terrible and soon trimmed out the list of title aspirants . I was looked upon as one of the best, if not the very best in Detroit, and the newspapers began to talk of a bout between Murphy and myself. I considered the 9

matter carefully and came to the conclusion that I could beat Murphy despite his title and reputation.

I challenged Murphy to meet me for a title and a side bet and , thinking that I was another presumptuous upstart, he quickly accepted . The bout was to be a finish as were all the early fights in which I participated. The bout took place at Carroll’s Road House just outside grand rapids, Michigan and was attended by a large crowd, such as crowds at boxing bouts in those days went.

Murphy was a big favourite. In fact there were very few who conceded me to have even a chance, but the odds of three, four and five to one that the Murphy followers were offering induced a number of prominent sporting men from Detroit, who had seen my bouts there, to take my end. There are in this world a great many people who never pass up a bet at liberal odds, and quite a number of these people found their way to the ringside and took my end of the betting. As a result the betting on the bout was heavy. All around the ring there spectators offering a hundred against twenty five, or some such bet. They were even betting two to one that I would not last twenty rounds.

The bout took place on a Saturday evening and there was an awful jam at the ringside. I soon discovered that the Michigan champion was a clever boxer and an exceptionally hard hitter. His right was the best I ever saw in all my ring career. He would hold it in readiness while it seemed to quiver, and when an opening came would drive it home. I could not call it a , a hook or an . It was a peculiar blow and I think the name drive distinguishes it as well as any. And how it would carry weight. I doubt If there is any modern boxer or fighter of his weight who can hit as hard as Murphy could in his prime.

In fact I believe a few of the‖ young men about town‖ in New York at the present time can testify regarding Murphy’s punch, for when I last heard of Murphy he was running a physical culture school in New York for select pupils.

But to get back to the fight. It was a tough affair – one of the toughest I ever had in the 19yrs I was active in the ring. Now Murphy would take advantage and again the pendulum of fortune would swing. Each took awful punishment and the thin gloves we wore were splattered with blood. Several times I hit the hard boards which formed the floor of the ring. Just as often did I send Murphy down . It was a case of give and take.

I think it was about the 33rd round that we sparred for a period. I thought I saw a chance to land a right. To do this I dropped my left but Murphy beat me to the punch that didn’t seem to have to be drawn back at all. It seemed to stand straight at me and landed with the weight of a sledge hammer. The blow struck me on the bridge of the nose, breaking it. I didn’t fall backward – I almost turned flip flop as the boys call it and landed on the back of my head.I was pretty well dazed and I could see the swing of the referees arm.

I was on my feet at the count of eight looking for my opponent. I found him over in the corner reaching out his hand to Lavigne, one of his seconds, to strip off the blood soaked glove. The bandages around the wrist had already been loosened when someone shouted to Murphy that I was crossing the ring. He quickly got on the defence but not before I had planted a couple of telling blows on the stomach. 10

Murphy told me afterwards that he thought the fight was over when he landed that right and he was taken unawares when I started after him. I kept this slight advantage and though my nose was giving me terrible pain I kept boring in. I was very careful however not to lower my guard and that awful blow of his taught me never to lower my left to land my right.

Whenever Murphy would close in on me I would and peck with my left and this gave him a lot of trouble. It was nearing midnight and the advent of Sunday. Those who had bet large sums on Murphy began to get uneasy for they saw that I was plainly wearing down the champion. Sitting at the ringside all evening was the Sheriff .He was perfectly at ease and puffed a big black cigar. Any idea that the fight was transgressing on the laws of Michigan seemed entirely foreign to him. However, some of Murphy’s energetic backers soon began to take the Sheriff to the back of the crowd .I afterwards leant more than one of these little Sessions took place.

It was after midnight when the last occurred and the sheriff ponderously made his way to the ring, climbed between the ropes, and announced the fight was stopped saying that he did not believe in desecrating the Sabbath with a prize fight. It was a noble little speech he made and brought a cheer from the men who had money on Murphy. My supports kicked, but what was the use, the man with the star had the big say .Murphy was all in and hanging on and I could of finished him in a couple of more rounds. As it was the bout was stopped in the 57th round and all bets were declared off

Part 6 RYAN DEFEATS A HEAVYWEIGHT.

BEFORE THAT YEAR, 1889, was out I got another chance at Jimmy Murphy, but again I found that " influence" sometimes has a lot to do with the winning or losing of a boxing match. As I stated In my last article Murphy was lightweight .champion of Michigan and all champions have their friends — as long as they have the title and money to spend.

The second bout with Murphy was arranged to take place near Grand Rapids. My first fight had been to a finish, or so the articles read, while the second was to be an eight-round affair with kid gloves. It was advertised as an "exhibition" but both Murphy and myself realized that it was to be a real battle. I had gained a pretty thorough knowledge of Murphy's ring tactics in my 57-round battle with him and when we met for the second time I went into the ring with my campaign well mapped out. For one thing I was determined that Murphy should not get another chance to land his terrible right and throughout the bout I was able to keep him from using that hand to the best advantage.

According to the way I had figured things out Murphy's body was his weakness and I immediately began to play for that, and bothered him a lot with a straight left to the face. 11

Knowing that the bout was not to be a long one, I forced the fighting and here my fast footwork stood me in good stead.

I found an opening in the fourth round and sent him to the floor with a fusillade of blows. But the referee was a follower of the Murphy gang. He assisted the fallen champion to his feet and was very slow in tolling off his count. I immediately went after Murphy when he regained his feet and but for the assistance he received from the referee I would have knocked him out in that round.

For the remaining four rounds I had Murphy stalling all the time and the referee seen to it that I did not have any too many chances to land the finishing punch. As a result Murphy lasted the 8 rounds . No decision was given but Murphy always insisted afterwards that the bout was a draw. I, and my followers, looked upon it as a victory.

My showing with the lightweight champion made the other little fellows a bit wary of mixing with me. I was not particular about the weights, however, and when I could get no other lightweight bouts I began to look for the bigger men. The recognized champion of Michigan at that time was Henry Baker. He weighed about 170 pounds and had a good reputation. I had been after a Grand Rapids promoter to get me some more bouts but when he offered me the match with Baker my friends all begged me not to take It, for they thought I would stand no chance against the big fellow. However I accepted. I may have been a "bit swelled‖ over my success in other bouts and perhaps not give the proper consideration to the big weight difference. Anyway the match was made and it was up to me to get into condition.

I weighed, when properly trained, about 130 pounds at that time and instead of training down as I had for the lightweights, I decided that I would try and put on weight and still retain my strength and speed. As a result of this I went into the ring with Baker close to 140 pounds. He had an advantage of thirty pounds or more in weight, longer reach, and greater height.

Baker had a good right hand. In fact, the right seemed to be the fighting hand of a good many of the old time fighters. He was willing to mix heartily and landed me on the floor in the first round with a right swing. Fighting in my usual crouching position I played for the stomach and landed some effective blows. The crowd which jammed the old Icehouse at Reid lake thought that I had tackled too much, for body blows do not show as much as those to the head and face.

In the second round, Baker landed another right swing and again I went down, but before the end of the round I had him covering up for I was mad enough to tear in at him, regardless of the consequences. The low rush troubled him, for few fighters fought in a crouch in these days, and Baker did not know how to guard effectively against my style of fighting.

I realized that the additional weight would give Baker a big advantage in a long fight, so when the third round commenced I started to make a quick finish. Slamming rights and lefts to the body, and poking an occasional straight left to the face, I kept the big fellow backing until he was all in and then a smash to the jaw sent him down for the count. The heavyweight champion of Michigan had gone down to defeat before an almost unknown lightweight. 12

Grand Rapids fans began to claim me as one of ―their own‖ and I became the most popular boxer in the hustling little city and had plenty of backing, both in the matter of friends and

finances, after I had disposed of Baker. Such is always the case. The public likes a winner and while he is on top they idolize him but no maiden was ever more fickle and once a champion is defeated he quickly goes into oblivion.

Some people may question the statement that Baker was a heavyweight. To the doubtful ones I would say to look up the record of James J Jeffries, the former heavyweight champion of the world. In the list of Jeffries

Henry Baker fights they will find the name of Henry Baker, who was knocked out by Jeffries in nine rounds at San Francisco on May. 19th 1897, this was the same man I fought and defeated at Reid Lake.

Chris Christopher was the next opponent dug up for me by the Grand Rapids promoters. Christopher, was a popular middle weight he had a good punch and he had been winning most of his bouts by the knockout route , and was strong enough to go . The fight was to be to a finish and took place just outside the Grand Rapids city limits. I found that Christopher was not very fast on his feet and quickly decided that I could win before many rounds by tiring him out despite his advantage in 8 of 18 or 20 rounds.

I started in by jabbing, hooking and getting away before Christopher could land effectively and most of his blows found me going away from them, thus depriving them of their,"heft.". He tried to follow me and imitate my foot work, but no man should try that unless he has trained and practiced it "carefully‖. Christopher soon became tangled in his own foot work and in the eighth round I went in to land the finishing punch.

Part 7

CHICAGO WAS AT THAT TIME the Mecca of the fighters. The spring of 1890 found most all the ring stars of note making their home or headquarters in the Illinois city. I had cleaned up practically all the available lightweights and in Michigan. Of course there were many I did not meet but they looked up my record and found many reasons why a 13

match with me was not advisable. It was no easy job for a young fighter to break into the ranks in in those days. The fight fans knew a large number of boxers who furnished practically all the mills there at that time and they looked askance at any newcomer.

After thoroughly canvassing the promoters I finally got a bout with Johnny McInerssy, a young , who was well spoken of by the fight critics. Fortunately for me, the bout was staged at the Chicago Board of Trade, where many of the big fights of those clays were taking place. This enabled me to get in action before the right kind of people, for the Board of Trade bouts drew patronage from the business and professional classes of the city.

But to get back to the bout itself—the big auditorium was well filled when we entered the ring. McInerssy's friends were in the majority, as is always the case when a home boy boxes a stranger. When we had been In action for a minute I discovered that McInerssy was a willing youngster whose chief idea of boxing seemed to be to rush and try to land a luck swing. Of scientific boxing he knew very little. It was not very difficult for me to jab him in the face with my left every time he rushed while I made good use of my right to the body when he was close. When the fourth round was over I saw that I could finish the bout almost any time I desired so took the aggressive in the fifth session. The Chicagoan became bewildered by my footwork and I landed almost at will in the first two minutes of that round. a left hook to the jaw finally dropping Mclnerssy for the count.

While McInerssy was no champion, he was well thought of by the Chicago fans and I began to gain some popularity when I defeated him. They reasoned that I could not be a "bloomer‖ and began to take a bit of stock in the accounts of my work which had gone out from Grand Rapids and Detroit. My next bout in Chicago was a double affair. That is, I was to meet two men in the same ring in the same evening. The padded gloves had come into use by that time and were not so easy as they had been. But I agreed to stop both men. The club selected Bob Harper, a middleweight, and Professor McGuire, a boxing instructor who tipped the scales at about 150 pounds.

Taking on Harper first, I had little difficulty in stopping him in four rounds. The boxing instructor sat at the ringside and watched that bout and when he crawled between the ropes to meet me ten minutes later he had figured out some sort of a plan of battle. McGuire evidently figured it out that he could be as clever as I but he failed to take into account the fact that while I was showing cleverness in my aggressive work against Harper, I was not called upon the display my whole bag of defensive tricks. Consequently, Mr. McGuire can be forgiven for being surprised when his carefully calculated blows swished through the air while I ducked and landed counterblows. Mr. McGuire was further surprised in the third round when I stretched him out for the count of ten.

Beating three men in twelve rounds further added to my popularity in Chicago. A more formidable opponent was sought and finally arrangements were made for a match with Con Doyle. Doyle, at that time, was aspiring for the welterweight champion and he was recognized as the best man in that class In the State of Illinois. This fight was to have "some class" and It was deemed a bit too important to stage In Chicago, where there was always fear of police interference. As a result, it took place in a small town just across the State line in , The name of the town I now forget but I know that it was within easy railroad distance of Chicago and excursion trains carried the fans from the big city to the ringside.

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Doyle was no such sap as my other opponents from Chicago had proven. He was clever, had a nice shift, could use his feet a bit and hit a very hard blow. For nearly twenty rounds we battled fiercely, with the honors about even. Doyle was of the aggressive type and his courage and gameness seemed to be without any limit. I was unable to land many effective body blows, but my old standby, the straight left, proved a puzzler for my opponent. Every time Doyle came at me, that left would jab him in the face .and I took a large number of swings just to be able to land this jab.

Somewhere around the twenty-first round I had closed Doyle's left eye so that he could not see out of It. Let me say right here that when a boxer's left eye is closed he loses more than half of his effectiveness as far as eyesight is concerned. With, only one eye in use, Doyle began to change his tactics. He carefully guarded his good and right eye. I landed my as often as I could, but he was wary and I got few chances. In the twenty-sixth round I landed a good blow flush on the optic and had the pleasure of seeing It start to swell and close and in the next round I devoted an my attention to it with the result that when Doyle went to his corner his seconds tried every trick known at that time in an effort to reduce the swelling.

When Doyle came up in the twenty eighth round he was practically blind for both eyes were closed and puffed up. He had to judge my position largely by his hearing and I plugged away at will. I had taken my share of the beating and I was not anxious to let the bout go any farther. Seeing that I had Doyle at my mercy, his seconds tossed the sponge into the ring as a token of defeat and thus ended one of the toughest bouts of my ring career against one of the gamest men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

While boxing gloves were then coming into use, my bout with Doyle took place with gloves which could only have been called padded by the greatest stretch of the Imagination.

Part 8 VIII — WINNING THE WELTERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP.

NO LONGER RATED AS AN UNKNOWN: my stock rapidly, rose in the sporting fraternity of Chicago. I was in demand by the boxing promoters, for even in those days the wise club managers had discovered that the fighter who had the most friends generally drew the largest house. My income was no longer uncertain. I was not getting, wealthy but I could count on a couple of hundred, dollars every month out of my work in the ring. I trained all the time and in all my ring career I was caught out of condition but once and of that occasion I will write later.

Around December 1890 I began to issue open challenges to meet any welterweight in the world. With the passage of my teens my weight was increasing and I had outgrown the lightweight class. Among those who wanted bouts with me was Ed Bartlett, He was a husky middleweight, but as the promoters could see no opponent for me among the welters they made me a proposition to meet Bartlett and I accepted.

I got no guarantee when I signed the articles, and but for police interference, my share of the receipts would have been considerable for there was a big crowd on the excursion train which ran out of Chicago just across the Indiana line. It was midwinter and there was snow on the ground. I was well bundled up on the trip and expected that the bout would take place indoors and a big pavilion had been rented for the fight. However, some person had whispered a few words in the ear of the particular Indiana sheriff who had charge of that 15

district and he was at the pavilion ahead of us.

We were told that he would permit no fight in his district and threatened to arrest everybody connected with the fight and as many of the spectators as the county jail would hold if we made any effort to start the bout. It was a case of retreat for us. We returned to the train and a conference was held. Somebody, well acquainted with the country, suggested that we run a few miles up the track to a picnic ground where the fight might be held. This plan was carried into operation.

But when we got to the picnic ground there was no building where a fight might be held. The half dozen fans were determined that the bout must be held. There was just enough money and reputation at stake to make Bartlett and myself want to get together under any circumstances. Finally a big dancing platform was discovered the snow was swept off and Bartlett and I stripped to our fighting togs and got busy, and I don’t think I need tell you that we were busy. We had to keep busy to keep warm for that section of Indiana in midwinter is not noted for any warm breeze. Being the faster of the two I had an advantage under these conditions and I began to worry Bartlett in the first round. Like many, others whom I fought, he could not solve my straight left and I soon had him groggy, landing the sleep punch in the third round. It was then a case of hurrying back into my clothes and getting back to the train.

Adding another victory to my fast growing record, I again issued my call to the welterweights. And now, perhaps, my readers will see why I used the expression "began to issue open challenges ' .The fighter or boxer who has ability and wants to get to the top must keep on sending out his challenges, for he must get to the level of the upper men —they will not come down to him and make overtures for fights except in very unusual cases. Well my challenge brought forth another response. Through one of the Chicago newspapers a syndicate posted $1.000 to bind a match between Tommy Ryan and an ―unknown.‖and the said bout to be to a finish for $1,000 side bet and the weight to be 140 pounds ringside. Naturally I tried to find out who the "unknown" was, but it was of no avail and in the meantime the negotiations strung out over several weeks.

Frank Glover was going around the Midwest about his time making a boast that could stop anybody in four rounds. He weighed about 170 pounds and had a punch to make good his boast in nearly every instance. Negotiations for the bout with the "unknown" were now entered into with vigor. My money was posted and the articles were signed. I weighed, in condition, about 145 pounds then and immediately started to get off the extra five pounds. In the meantime, my friends were busy. This "unknown" evidently had friends who were willing to back him liberally. My friends were not at all averse to doing a little betting themselves and after a great deal of sleuthing they discovered that the "unknown" was none other than Danny Needham, the Western welterweight, who was then recognized as the champion.

A Minneapolis club made the best offer for the bout and it took place there on the night of February 16th. 1891. Needham had won the championship from Patsy Harrigan of just a few months before and our bout was a great drawing card. From all parts of the Middle West excursions were run into the Milling city. Expecting to go into the ring about 10 o'clock, I stripped and got on the scales early that evening just to satisfy myself that I was at the weight. You can imagine my dismay when I found that I was a pound over. I had been tempted by a fine dinner that day and was a pound overweight. Stoking up a huge coal stove in the dressing room I started running around and around that stove. It was nearly midnight 16

when I had worked that extra pound off. The room was stifling hot and I felt "all in." From the moment we entered the ring, Needham and I fought a desperate battle, he to defend his hard won championship and I to capture it and ascend to the top of the welterweight division.

Part 9 IX. THE FIGHT WITH NEEDHAM.

DANNY NEEDAM WAS NO FALSE ALARM in the ring. He was a real fighter; one who had been tested and not found wanting. Strong cool-headed, quick-thinking and clever, He was well worthy of the high position he occupied among the welterweights of twenty years ago. I ought to be in a position to know his real worth as he gave me the toughest battle in which I ever participated and it was a bout talked about to this day among the old-time fight fans. For seventy six rounds and for a part of the seventy-sixth we battled before Needham down for the count of ten and a new welterweight champion was born. For the first ten rounds of that memorable battle each tried the other to gauge ability and map out a plan of battle.

It was not long before I discovered that Needham had not been overrated. When my friends discovered that he was the "unknown" to face me they naturally looked up his full record and got as many tips they could as to his methods of fighting. The dope didn't do me much good in that bout, however.

Needham seemed to be able to fight in any old style. When I pressed him, he had an excellent defence and I discovered that his offense was strong when he attacked me. It didn't matter to Danny what style of battle I adopted he seemed ready for them all. For the second ten rounds the mixing was hot and heavy. If I may be pardoned for using a slang expression, it seemed as if we were battling for our very lives. The spectators raised a din that made it almost impossible to even think, let alone hear. Men fainted from the excitement, I found out afterward, though at that time I was too busy with what happened inside the ring to watch the doings outside.

Even though the terrific pace began to tell on both of us after the twenty fifth desperate round, neither of us let up. Now, I would go to the floor before one of Needham's hard punches, again I would lift Needham of his feet with a swing or an uppercut Needham seemed a veritable glutton for punishment for I landed punches on him that would never have failed on other opponents. Yet he would get to his knees to await the count of nine and then rush at me again. On my part I would so down to find myself on the floor with my senses returning as the referee would toll three or four then take the count of nine, to get rested, and again rush into the fray. How many times each hit the floor that night is more than I can tell. I know it was often.

The very spirit of tenseness that seemed to pervade the audience was carried to the two men battling in the ring. There were frantic shouts from supporters of each. I could see some bills being waved as men placed their bets. At the opening of the battle Needham was the big favourite and he continued that until after the twentieth round, when the odds began to shorten and before forty rounds had been fought you might say that there were no odds at all — each man wagered his money at any odds that appealed to him in his state of excitement.

The work of our seconds was a huge job. Both of us had puffed and fast-closing eyes and between the rounds they used every trick known at that time to keep down the swellings and 17

to strengthen us for the coming round. Around about the fiftieth round I had closed one of Needham's eyes with a hard left and when he came up for the next round he immediately went into a clinch and hoarsely whispered for me to agree to end the bout then and there, making it a draw. I was in great distress myself, but Needham's request seemed to show that he felt defeat coming. Anyway that is how I reasoned it out and I gained courage. The right to tack ―welterweight champion of the world" after his name looked good to the boy who had run away from his home in Syracuse.

I already felt a victor. "I'll not stop until one of us is on the floor for keeps," was my answer to Needham's proposition, and I immediately began strong aggressive tactics. Reaching my corner when the round ended I begged my seconds to get me into the best possible shape. They rubbed and fanned me cheering as I went back for the next round. I .already had a taste of victory and was determined that I would not be deprived of the honours. How I lasted through the final rounds is more than I can explain now, possibly I was cheered by the fact that my opponent was in even greater distress than myself. Clever boxing was long ago forgotten, our legs Hardly seemed to respond to our wills. Each blow was almost invariably followed by a clinch.

In the seventy sixth round, which proved to be the last, I was ready to take a final chance. Getting a grip on my fast waning strength I landed a blow on Needham – what sort of blow it was I have no recollection. As if in a dream I saw my opponent topple to the floor, I knew I had won before the ten seconds had elapsed. I was exhausted after a fight which had lasted five hours and five minutes.

I collected my earnings and then with my friends who had won heavily, at odds of from four to five to one, returned to Chicago, at that time my headquarters and home. Although I took the best of care of myself I did not venture back into the ring for some time. I was now the welterweight champion and it would not have done for me to take chances on going into the ring except in the best of physical condition. As youth will I turned to romance and before I again entered the ring I had taken a wife.

Part X DEFENDING THE CHAMPIONSHIP.

SAFE AT THE TOP of the welter weight, division I had a little time for other things than fights. There was a little lady in Chicago who meant everything to me. Leaving aside the matters of the prize ring I paid court so arduously that she finally consented to be the wife of a champion. It was in May, 1891, that we were married. Though that is twenty years and more gone by, I have never once regretted the step I took that day.

One of the reasons that boxing has such a bad name is that a great majority of the boxers are men without home, but you will notice, in glancing over the list of the top notchers, that those who are in the near championship or championship class are the men who are married or who have their parents dependent upon them. The modern boxer of class and standing is generally a man of family. No matter how good a boxer may be he cannot live under the bright lights and get to the top. So my advice to the young man, be he boxer or belong to any other profession or trade, is to get married and respect his marriage vows.

When a boxer has a wife dependent upon him, he gives some thought to saving his money and also to earning the largest possible purses. He is always out to win, but will take no 18

chances in any shady transaction. The married boxer has no time, or should not have, for the gay life. Living cleanly his physical condition is always the best and the thought of the little lady at home is a better stimulant during a bout than any stimulant that comes in bottles.

My wife has been my help and adviser during the two decades of our married life. I was never attracted by the gay life, the joy rides, bubbling water and fast women, because I had someone to steady me earnings. I invested in good real estate and now that my active days in the ring are over I have enough to live comfortably for the rest of my days and can now enjoy, with my wife and partner, the automobile rides that others took at the wrong time. I now have a fine little car and while I may never break any speed records I can take a lot of enjoyment out of it.

Following our honeymoon, I returned to Chicago and found that a champion always has plenty of challenges. My days of issuing the defies were over. It was now my turn to get them and they came by the bushel. There is always some fighter who will enter a ring with a champion, when there is a fat loser's end to the purse. The summer of 1891 saw Billy McMillan of Washington fast climbing into the front division of the welterweights. Chicago speculators who had lost money betting against me in other fights, notably with Needham that same spring, saw a chance to win back some of their loses. They made a proposition to McMillan, it evidently appealed to him , for he came to Chicago and immediately proceeded to challenge me to meet him in a finish bout for the championship and a big side bet.

The papers boosted him along and I accepted, making it a condition that the side bet was $1000. His backers posted their money with a Chicago Newspaper and mine was on the next day. The location for the battle was the next problem, but a promoter soon appeared on the scene with an offer to stage the bout just across the Indiana State line. He offered a fair guarantee and his offer was taken up. The bout was announced as a worlds championship affair and there was great interest among the sports of the Illinois city. A big excursion train was hired to leave Chicago about 7:30 on the night of the fight and when it finally pulled out of the depot every seat in the many coaches was occupied and many stood in the aisles.

Arriving at the little town where the bout was to be held the crowd quickly filled the hall. McMillan was first in the ring and as I crawled through the ropes I got my first glimpse of my opponent in fighting attire. He was magnificently built, with broad shoulders and deep chest, and I realized he was an expert boxer and he would prove a formidable opponent. As my knowledge of his work was entirely hearsay I spent the first round ―feeling him out‖ and what I discovered did not particularly alarm me. He had a vicious swing but was a poor judge of distance and knew little of footwork and ring generalship. I started to go after him in the second round and kept jabbing and getting clear of his swings. That round sufficed to take a great deal of confidence out of the Washingtonian

When the third round opened McMillan seemed a bit bewildered and I immediately went after him hard and soon landed a punch that put him on the boards for the count of ten. Thus ended my first bout in defence of the welterweight championship. The Chicago speculators were now worse in the hole than ever, for they had wagered heavily on the McMillan bout. My friends were rather "flush" with money for they had covered all money offering against me.

Reports from England seemed to indicate that Frank Howson was a likely fellow and the 19

speculators sent an agent over to England, to get a line on his ability and, if he was up to what they had heard of him, to arrange to bring him over to fight me. Evidently the agent was pleased with Howson for the next I heard was that the Englishman was on his way across the Atlantic. I went into training at once for I realized that I would be challenged by Howson as soon as he reached Chicago.

Howson was a better man than McMillan. He had been carefully coached as to my styles of fighting and while his imitation of it was a failure he fought cautiously and proved tough enough to give me. a hard battle. For about ten-rounds the honours of the contests were about even but superior physical condition then began to tell, for the pace was a hot one, and by the time the twelfth round arrived Howson was beginning to feel and looked tired. From that time on I had the fight well in hand and on the fourteenth round I landed the sleep producer.

For the third time the Chicago speculators were stung while my friends again added to their bankroll. I had bet quite a sum myself, aside from the side bet. So my winnings in that fight were no small sum.

XI—RYAN MEETS MEN OF ALL WEIGHTS.

AS WELTERWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD I had little or no difficulty in getting bouts, though the great majority of those I fought right after winning my title were of all weights and few were for the welterweight honours. Those of the welterweights who showed enough to warrant a chance in a championship bout were not anxious to meet me, claiming that a little more experience would do them no harm.

My style of fighting , the crouch, the footwork and the left jabs, soon began to be copied widely by other stars of the day. Some of those imitators managed to get along pretty well but it was not for several years that others than myself were able to master my style and use it to advantage. The defeat I gave McMillan and Howson having made other welters wary of me and I took up other offers. The first of these was for a five round exhibition in Chicago with . Next came an offer to meet Frank Gerrard. who posed as a lightweight, but whose best fighting weight was around 335 pounds. And right there I want to say something about the grading of fighters by weights.

Custom has made 122 pounds the recognized weight for the featherweight., 132 pounds for the lightweights, and 142 pounds for the welterweights, Since I held the welterweight Title , many of the weights have changed and I give the weights that are recognized at the present time. Now, in my day, all weights had to be made at the ringside with the fighters wearing their full ring equipment. To-day it is the common custom for the fighters to weigh in from six to eight hours before the fight and then in the nude, if such is necessary for them to get to the required weight. I know plenty of boxers who are parading around the country at the present time as lightweights who would find it absolutely impossible to fight at 132 pounds ringside. And there are just as many of the alleged welterweight who cannot make 142 ringside.

It a fighter can do no better than 124 pounds, and that six or eight hours before he enters the ring, his manager now persists in calling him a featherweight. Yet according to strict ruling , the fighter is a lightweight. And the same rule applies to the other divisions. If a man cannot make the division limit at ringside, then I say that he should be placed in the next higher 20

division. Such a ruling would clear up a lot of the muddle now connected with some of the championships and the championship aspirants.

But to get back to my bout with Gerrard . This was to be a short round affair, I forget just now whether I was carded for six or ten rounds. It took place before a select audience in a private club in Chicago and was not open to the general public. I had an advantage of five or six pounds in the weights and easily stopped Gerrard in four rounds. Con Doyle, who had given me a tough twenty-five rounds two years previous was my next opponent, the bout taking place at Dubuque early in 1892. In my previous bout I had learned Doyle's stock of tricks, and while our second fight was a tough one while it lasted I was able to take care of my opponent in a little over seven rounds this time. Knowing what Doyle had I was able to go after him hard and forced the fight. He proved a good defensive fighter and gave me some tough wallops before I was able to send him to dreamland.

A heavyweight came next on my list. Hot Springs was anxious to get me for a bout, but they were unable to secure a man of my weight for my opponent. "Paddy" Brennan a husky fellow weighing around 170 to 180 pounds was rather popular there at that time and I was asked if I would meet him. I looked up his record and figured that I had little or nothing to fear from him and took the match. Brennan hit the canvas to stay down in the tenth round.

My next offer was from South Omaha. Jack Wilkes of St. Louis was the man selected as my opponent there. He was a middleweight and our articles called for a finish fight with kid gloves. Wilkes was tough, gritty and a hard hitter. He could assimilate punishment about as good as any man I ever met. He was not remarkably clever, but he kept boring in all the time. I landed enough blows on him in the first ten rounds to have stopped an ordinary boxer, but Wilkes kept coming in for more and occasionally landing one of his heavy swings. Realizing that if it came to an endurance contest Wilkes with his advantage in weigh would stand as good a chance as myself. I changed my tactics and began to use my left to the face, jabbing him every time he came in. In the seventeenth round I managed to close both his eyes and when he tried to get to his feet for the eighteenth round he was unable to see and the police took a hand, stopping the bout. There was to be a division of the gate receipts for winner and loser in that bout and I was given the winner's end.

Going back to Detroit, near where all my early fights had taken place, I got a great reception. A big smoker was arranged in my honour and I appeared in an eight-round no decision exhibition with Jack Collins. My reputation had spread beyond the Middle West by this time and the winter of 1892-3 saw me receiving many offers from the Eastern prompters. I decided to accept some of them and after visiting my home in Syracuse, which I had left as a runaway a few years before, I went to Bridgeport, Conn. I remained there for a short time and made many friends which I am proud to say. I retain to this day.

A bout with Harry Jamieson, a heavyweight , was arranged for me but the only thing that he had was weight and I knocked him out in the second round. While training in Bridgeport I received on offer from a New York club for an exhibition bout at Coney Island with Billy Smith. It was a no decision affair and lasted but six rounds. However, it sufficed for me to make my bow to the critical fans of "the big town" who think that no fighter has ever any right to appear in the ring without their consent.

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Part 12

WHETHER OR NOT A NEW YORK appearance counts for anything, the demand for my services increased after I had met Billy Smith at Coney Island. Possibly publicity had something- to do with it for then, as now ,the big news associations had their headquarters in New York and had started giving three times as much publicity to any New York bout as to one of as great or greater importance in some other part of the country. I don't know why it is that every dinky little scrap in New York gets a few lines over the press associations wires when much more important bouts elsewhere must beg for notice. This publicity may account for the standing: a "New York debut" gives a boxer.

Chicago fans had not seen me in action for some time and there was a general demand that I return there for a bout . My thrice stung horsemen friends were looking for another chance and they finally persuaded George Dawson, welterweight champion of , to make the trip to this country. When Dawson arrived, they started the publicity campaign and demands for a bout which had marked their efforts in the three bouts before in which they had lost heavily. Dawson’s challenges did not go unnoticed, for I saw no reason why I should not meet him. In fact, I was glad of a chance to make my world title more secure, for if I beat Dawson I would have the right to a clear title to the worlds honours.

The match was quickly made and the bout took place before the Chicago fans at Tattersall’s a famous sporting place in the Illinois city about that time. April 1893. boxing was the permitted in Chicago but the bouts were limited to six rounds so it was in one of those short session affairs that I clashed with Dawson. Knowing that it was to be a short bout Dawson and I worked at top speed throughout and for four rounds the honours were practically even. After that Dawson’s speed began to lessen and I landed some effective blows. I had him in trouble in the 6th and final round but was unable to win by a knockout though I was given the decision for outpointing the Australian.

Returning to Bridgeport I met Dick Guthrie, a heavyweight, and stopped him in three rounds. My next bout was also at Bridgeport. This time my opponent was another heavyweight, Maurice Lane of New Haven, and he too was stopped in the third round. Our exhibition bout at Coney Island had given Billy Smith a line on my capabilities and he began to negotiate for a championship contest .I was agreeable for I did not see Smith very dangerous and the financial end of a match with him was a tempting inducement. Side bets were posted and offers were received from the various clubs which were in a position to stage a bout of its importance.

The club before which I, had fought Danny Needham the memorable seventy-six rounds at Minneapolis was finally awarded the bout and. I went to the Milling city about ten days before the bout to get into shape. As a matter of fact I was always in good physical condition and could always take a bout at short notice, yet I never, with one exception, of which I will tell later, entered the ring without making every possible effort to be in the finest of physical condition. Many a high-class boxer has been beaten by a "dud ―simply because the good man underestimated the strength of the "dud" and overestimated his own capabilities when out of condition. I was caught once myself and I should know.

I worked In public in Minneapolis and there was a lot of interest in the bout. Smith, with a large retinue of trainers and backers, was there a few days before the bout and the night we 22

entered the ring found the sporting fraternity of Minneapolis roused to a high pitch of excitement and a huge crowd Jammed inside the four walls of the big building .where a championship was to be defended.

I believe that the spectators got "a run for their money". The articles called for a twenty- round bout for the welterweight championship of the World. And while I won the decision after twenty gruelling grounds, I had to work hard to defend my title. Billy Smith, some called him "Mysterious" certainly was a clever fighter. He was clever, and could hit with either hand, though I should say that his right was a bit the more powerful.

There was action in every round and was a case of give and take. The pace was furious and each brought into play every trick of boxing and generalship known at that time. In the seventeenth round. Smith swung a vicious right for my chin. I saw it coming, but not in time to get entirely clear. I swung up my hand and the blow hit me on the throat I am not well posted on medical terms, but I will try and make myself clear to the average reader. For a moment after the blow landed, I seemed to choke. There was a feeling as if the walls of my "Adam's apple" had been caved in.

After a few seconds, though each second seemed like on hour to me, I could breath again but the muscles of my throat seemed to be paralyzed. I was unable to breathe through my nose and for the remaining three rounds I had to fight with my mouth open. The gong at the end of the seventeenth round was one of the most welcome sounds I ever heard. Despite this handicap my speed was not affected and made to realize that my title was in danger .I set a whirlwind pace and when the end of the bout had come I was pretty tired, but I had fought Smith to a standstill. He was barely able to guard himself in the final round and I was given the decision.

I took quite a rest after, this bout and had my throat given thorough attention. I soon recovered the use of my neck, and throat muscles. .Having disposed of all contenders for my title, I again started taking, on bouts with men of almost any weight who could be obtained to meet me in a tour around the country . I met men of all weights from lightweights to and no bout went over six rounds.

Part 13 RYAN GOES BARNSTORMING

IN THESE MODERN DAYS, the press would refer to the trips I made following my bout with Billy Smith as "barnstorming." It was in the fall of 1893 that I could get no more matches with men of my weight and decided on the tour and the "exhibition bouts." The fans in various parts of the country wanted to see a real champion in action and were not always able to attend the championship bouts. Hence, they selected the best available man at any weight and I would take him on for a short bout.

Hartford, Conn., was my first stop and I met Jack Falvey, a promising welterweight. He gave me a good battle, but I stopped him in the eighth round. Going westward again I stopped at Minneapolis, where the fans were booming a young heavyweight named Jack Pitts he lasted three rounds. Weight is generally an advantage in a ring contest, but there are times when it proves a handicap. A big man cannot be expected to work fast and in a six-round bout a good welter or middleweight can give away twenty or thirty pounds, provided of course that his opponent is not very clever, and still get away with the verdict. I had a good 23

wallop and was faster. I believe, than any man in any division at that time. For this reason I could take on the young fellows who had .much more weight and less cleverness or science, call it what you will.

Going South, I was matched to meet Billy Layton a St. Joseph welterweight . It was to be a finish fight and to get away from inquisitive persons from the sheriff's office the bout was staged on an Island in the Mississippi river opposite St. Joseph. The fans left St. Joseph by boat and the bout took place in the open air. Layton proved to have youth, strength, a fair amount of science and a good punch. During, the first five rounds the fans "got a run for their money.'' for the bout was close. In the sixth I began to ―get to‖ Layton with my straight left jab and, in the next round I put over a sleeper and Layton took the count.

Next followed more bouts in the same vicinity. I took on Billy Smith for a six round no-decision exhibition and met Jack Wilkes under the same conditions. I was then matched to meet Jack Dempsey at Coney Island. When I was a barefooted youngster in Syracuse, playing "hookey" from school, I used to stand and look at Dempsey's pictures in the windows about town. He was one of my youthful heroes, though I never imagined at that time that would ever meet this same Dempsey in the ring.

In his prime Jack Dempsey was one of the greatest fighters the ring had ever seen and who was also one of the most popular. But no fighter can go a fast pace outside the ring and expect to do himself justice with the gloves. My bout with Dempsey had not progressed a minute before I realized that my opponent was in no fit condition to enter a ring. At the end of the first round I called the referee to my corner and told him that Dempsey was in no condition and that I did not want to hand him unnecessary punishment. I requested him to stop the fight then and there. "Say, you're getting paid to fight not to give advice," was the referee's reply. "Stow that talk and do what you're paid for."

I never had been in better condition, for I had expected that Dempsey would be a formidable opponent. Still I did not like to inflict punishment on my old hero in his helpless condition. I didn't want to knock him out, so I proceeded to make him helpless, and it was then necessary for the referee to do as I had requested and stop the fight. This took place in the third round. When I defeated Dempsey I learned something of the fickleness of the fight fans. Dempsey had been a hero. As a ring star he numbered his friends by the thousands. Seeing him in the ring, helpless because he had been what they called "a good fellow" those same "friends" the men who had never refused the "good fellow's" generosity in his palmy days—hissed and hooted.

American fans , and I include fans of all branches of sports, baseball, football, wrestling or 24

boxing, want to see a winner. They always root and cheer for the man on top. But the moment that man becomes the man underneath there is a change and a new hero replaces the old. Boxers have long been associated with the "Rounders" of the "Great White Way," be it in New York or San Francisco or any city between. It is true that a great many boxers have gone down to defeat—not because of meeting a better man in the ring but because they themselves were far below their proper form.

In other words they were fighting two opponents the gay life and the man in the ring. Because of the fact that the names of prominent boxers are so frequently in the sporting columns of the daily newspapers, and their doings are so faithfully chronicled by the scribes, the public gains a false impression of boxers in general. The public puts the blame on all boxers because a small percentage stray from the straight path. The clever boxer who takes care of himself outside as well as inside the ring is the man who has a long career ahead of him.

Following the bout with Dempsey I resumed my "barnstorming" and went to Kansas City where I met a local Phenom named Melody. He lasted four rounds. This was in February 1895 just about five weeks after I met Dempsey. A month later I was in Chicago where I met and defeated Shorty Ahearn in four rounds and Tom Tracy in the same number.

Part 14 POLICE TWICE STOP FIGHT WITH SMITH.

MYSTERIOUS BIILLY SMITH was the hero of the New York fight fans in the spring of 1895 - Smith had won from a number of promising and had made a good showing against me two years previous. The New Yorkers believed that Billy was entitled to another chance at the title. Negotiations to that end were soon opened and after many weeks it was agreed that we would meet in a 25 round bout for the welterweight championship at Coney Island, May 27th; 1895.

The bout was an important one and the various clauses of the articles so important that both Smith and myself signed the articles instead of leaving this matter, as is usual, to our respective managers. About that time there was agitation against brutality in boxing in New York and the police used this agitation as an excuse for interfering with bouts that did not meet with the full favor of the politicians controlling the force.

In the articles of my bout with Smith there was a clause which provided, that should the police interfere at any time when both men were on their feet, the referee should call the bout a draw. The club could not guarantee that the police would not interfere, so this provision was made. There were so many different stories told of this bout about that time that I will give for the first time the real facts as they took place. I found that Smith, was not as formidable an opponent for me as he had been in our previous meeting, yet he was a mighty tough customer.

The first eleven rounds saw some fierce milling with the honours about even. Near the end of the eleventh round, Smith floored me with a swing to the jaw. I took the count of nine and got up rather dazed as the blow had been a formidable one. I stalled through the remaining thirty seconds of the round and when the bell rang I was still so dazed that I walked to Smiths corner instead of my own corner I immediately realized my mistake and started back to my own corner. The police ever on the alert for an excuse to stop the bout immediately jumped 25

into the ring and ordered the bout stopped. The promoters protested and a long conference between the club manager and the police captain followed .I don’t know just how long it lasted but it was quite a lengthy session. Finally the police captain announced that the bout could proceed.

The rest did me no harm and I went after Smith as soon as the bell sounded for the opening of the 12th round. In the next six rounds I knocked Smith down five times and he was continually covering and clinching. In the 18th I drove smith to the ropes. He was absolutely helpless and but for the fact that the ropes held him up he would have been on the canvas. The police again interfered and in accordance with the articles the referee called the bout a draw. For the first 11 rounds this bout was one of the toughest I ever had but after the first interference by the police Smith seemed to lose heart. Possibly he did not have the stamina for a longer bout.

Tommy Tracey, claimant of the welterweight championship of Australia was my next opponent. The bout took place in Chicago and was an 8 round No decision affair. I had hoped to stow Tracey away with a knockout but I found him too clever and too strong to do this and was compelled to be satisfied with winning the popular decision of the fans and the newspaper men. However I had the satisfaction of meeting and stopping Tracey two years later.

I now come to a point in my ring career which has created more comment, good, bad and otherwise, than any other bout in which I participated. I refer to my first battle with "Kid" McCoy. To get at the root of this I will have to go back a bit, when I was training around Detroit a few years previous, "Kid" McCoy showed up at my training camp one day and applied for the position of sparring partner. I wasn’t able to pay much at the time and as McCoy seemed anxious to learn I took him on. He was strong and willing but a bit crude in his boxing. He was with me for several months and showed wonderful improvement in that time. Still, I never considered him a dangerous opponent.

On January 9th 1896 I boxed ―Kid‖ Lavigne a four round exhibition in New York. After the bout ―Kid‖ McCoy came to my dressing room. We talked over old times and then McCoy told me he was having ―hard sleding‖ and asked me if I would agree to meet him in a match in New York if he could get some club To stage the battle .I told him I would but thought little of it for I did not believe he would succeed.

I returned to my home in Syracuse and soon afterward I had a letter from McCoy. In it he told me that a club in Maspeth would stage the bout and that it would be some easy money for me as he had not been having many bouts and was not in the best of condition. McCoy had returned that winter from England where he had been defeated by a middleweight named White. I saw no reason to believe that McCoy was a dangerous opponent and as an act of friendship, and to help him out, I agreed to an equal division of the money.

McCoy was then a while I was fighting at from 142 to 145 pounds. I did not like the continual training and not being required to make any weight for McCoy I took things easy. In fact I looked upon the bout as nothing more than an exhibition in which I could easily outpoint my opponent. I saw nothing suspicious until I entered the ring and suddenly realized that McCoy was in superbly trained. His every movement showed it he must have weighed at least 162 to 165 pounds. 26

The stories told afterwards by McCoy that he had written me letters advising me not to train are all ―Bosh‖. McCoy wrote me one letter telling me that he had been sick and was in need of money and it was then I agreed to the bout if a club would stage it. McCoy did not show the foxiness that was credited to him and it was entirely my own fault that I was caught out of condition and had to take a beating.

Part 15

KID McCOY WAS NEVER IN BETTER condition than he was the night when he fought me for the first time at Maspeth, near . Steve O.'Donnell, for a long time trainer and sparring partner of .Jim Corbett took charge of McCoy's training when the heavyweight returned from Europe. The training was all done in private and was known only to a few of McCoy's intimate friends.

As I have already written, I was so confident of my own ability to defeat McCoy that I neglected to train I never entered a ring in worse condition than I did that night. In fact, I never again entered a ring out of condition. The bout was staged by the Empire Athletic club and it was a dark tramp across the moors that the fans had that night to reach the clubhouse. A brisk "northeaster" was blowing and the fans came well bundled up. The big building was unheated and the fans were muffled up in their overcoats all evening.

The ring was erected in the centre of the hall and tiers of seats extended from the ringside to the eaves. Every seat was occupied and 2,000 shivering fans greeted me as I entered the ring about 9:30. Charley White, Kid Lavigne, Sam Fitzpaterick and Tom Cawley were my seconds. All men whose names were, or have become, well known to the fight fans. McCoy quickly followed me into the ring. He was seconded by Steve O'Donnell and "Brooklyn Jimmie" Carrol.

A big delegation of fight fans had come down from Syracuse and other Western New York cities and they were well supplied with money. Betting was brisk with the odds ranging from 2 to 1 to 3 to 1 with me the favourite. My first suspicion that McCoy might prove a surprise came when he walked over to my corner to examine my bandages. His walk showed him the picture of confidence. In the first round, things began to get lively. Through his work in my training quarters McCoy knew my methods as well as any man in the world. I soon saw that he had copied them .But he had a few tricks of his own. The round had not finished before I realized that my opponent was clever, confident and trained to the minute

The speed of the bout began to tell on me in the second round and I was compelled to go on the defensive. McCoy tried hard to get me to lead, but I refused to do that. It may not be out of place here for me to warn young boxers that it is the man who does the leading who leaves himself open and takes the chances. I refused to lead and made McCoy come to me. He came all right and his extra twenty pounds of weight compelled me to give ground.

In the third round I saw an opening. Rushing my heavier opponent I hammered him with a volley of rights and left swings to the face and body and drove him over the ropes. It was one of the few rounds in that battle in which I had an advantage. McCoy kept pressing me in the fourth and fifth rounds and again in the sixth. In that round In stepping back I tripped and fell and so impetuous was McCoy’s attack that he fell over me. 27

The seventh round was another that was in my favour. I knew that if I was to win I must do it quickly, for McCoy’s superior weight and condition would certainly tell in a long bout. In the intermission between the sixth and seventh rounds White and Lavigne impressed on me that it was necessary for me to press McCoy hard and land a knockout wallop as quickly as possible. I rushed McCoy in the first encounter of the round. Rallying all my remaining strength I pressed him back slowly but steadily and punished him to the head and body with a volley of quick short blows. But condition told as it always will. My strength was waning and try as I could I was unable to put the necessary steam behind my punches.

The crowd then began to realize that McCoy was better than the 3 to 1 chance he was given at the opening of the bout. The cheers for him began to dim the ones for me. New York always supports New Yorkers and though my up state friends cheered nobly they were ―out noised‖ by the New Yorkers. In the eight round McCoy jabbed me several times with a wicked left and I went to my knees taking the count of nine. When I got up I felt very weary but managed to last the round.

McCoy realized that I had not fully recovered my senses when the bell rang for the opening of the ninth round and began a strong attack which compelled me to back steadily. In turning to duck under one of his swings McCoy caught me on the head with a hard swing and I dropped for a second time. Again I got up a bit groggy and McCoy tried desperately to land a knockout punch.

I knew that I was in a desperate position and that I would be lucky if I won. When I came up for the tenth round my face was badly puffed from the lefts the McCoy had landed. I stalled through that round letting my opponent do all the work. Again in the eleventh and twelfth rounds McCoy played almost exclusively For my heart evidently intending that I should open up to retaliate and thus give him a chance to land a knockout.

How I got through the fourteenth and fifteenth I do not know. My right eye was closed, my nose was swollen and My face was bruised. For the story of the fifteenth and final round I will quote from a newspaper account of the battle ―After a series of hard rushes McCoy landed a right swing on the jaw and Ryan went to his hands and knees, he took the count of nine and then with the aid of the ropes again got to his feet. Before he had time to raise his guard McCoy landed a left to the jaw and Ryan went down to the floor. Raising himself by his hands and knees he waited while Referee Tim Hurst tolled off the count of nine,' He was plainly all in, but game to the core. When he got up again McCoy again swung his left to the point of Ryan's jaw. Ryan staggered and then fell flat on the floor, while the referee tolled off the count of ten. The great battle was over. Tommy Ryan had been defeated after one of the earnest exhibitions ever witnessed by a crowd of fight fans."

Part 16 RYAN LEARNS HARD LESSON

Sent down to defeat for the first and only time in my ring career by a man who learned practically all his boxing in my own camp, I returned to Syracuse, a sadder and a wiser man. I had learned that it is impossible to win fights on a mere reputation. No longer would I hold any opponent cheap but for each and every one of my bouts I determined that I would be in the finest of physical condition The lesson was a hard one yet it proved a valuable one. Had I 28

won that bout from McCoy I probably would have been content to take things easy and my next opponent might have done what fell to the lot of my former pupil.

Previous to the McCoy bout. I had never given thought to defeat and the days when I would no longer be a champion. I had saved a little money but it was but a small percentage of what I had earned and spent without giving thought of the "rainy" days in after life. McCoy taught me that out of condition and ever confident I was not invincible. I determined that I would lay aside some of my earning against the days when I would not be able to don the gloves and earn my living in the ring..

That determination has been with me ever since. 1 started in to save my money and I am glad to say that I no longer look ahead with forebodings of the future. Saving little by little, I have now sufficient of the worldly goods to insure me against want. I have seen many, boxers try to drown their sorrows in drink after having met with a defeat, but my pride was hurt too badly. My sole thought was of another match with McCoy. I felt in my heart that, with proper training. I could defeat him decisively.

Instead of going to the saloon, I sought the gymnasium and did some of the hardest training of my life. A fighter is like a race horse, out of condition they can go the short distance but in the long run condition will tell. My condition was soon satisfactory' and I was ready for another bout. When "Kid" Lavigne fought Walcott in New York In March, 1890, I was in Lavlgne's corner and while in New York I made every possible effort to get in touch with McCoy and negotiate for a return match, but he evaded a meeting. Letters brought no response so I decided to take other matches and await my chance for another battle with McCoy.

"Kid" Lavigne was about that time just in his prime and one of the greatest fighters of his weight. I seconded him in several fights and was one of the few to bet heavily upon him when he fought Myers and won in twenty rounds. I won $800 on his victory that day. Returning from the Lavigne bout to my home in Syracuse I was asked if I would meet Joe Dunfee. Like all cities of its size Syracuse was not large enough for two champions. Dunfee had disposed of practically all the men in the 160 pound class, while I had been fighting around 146 pounds. Each of us had our supporters and the fight fans of the city were divided into two factions, each claiming that its leader could defeat the leader of the other faction.

The negotiations for this bout went on for a long time. At one of our conferences at a Syracuse hotel the conversation grew rather heated Dunfee declared that he would defeat me decisively, no matter what the conditions. This riled me enough to dare him to fight on a winner-take-all basis. He accepted and the articles were quickly signed. A Buffalo promoter made the- best offer for the fight and it was staged at the Fort Eric race track I had at that time but little money and what I did have I put up in bets on the fight. Had I lost I would not have had enough to get back to Syracuse. Since then I have amassed a pretty fair little fortune.

With all due respect to Dunfee and his ability I can say that I won from him easily, knocking him out in the sixth round. My winnings were $3,000, the greater portion of which I immediately invested in real estate. The attendance at the Dunfee bout was close to 6000, and of these about 500 were from Syracuse. Both sides were out to "make a killing" and there was heavy betting. Dunfee's backers lost heavily. Buffalo gave me a cordial welcome after 29

my victory over Dunfee and my next fight also took place near the Bison city. The promoters secured ―Shadow" Maber. an Australian. We were matched for twenty rounds.

I found the Australian to be clever and to have a peculiar style of defence. It bothered me to get under his guard and for the first few rounds I landed but few effective blows. Maber, in the meantime, reached me a few times .However, I finally solved his style of fighting and reached him with the knockout punch in the ninth round. I fought Maber June 22d, 1896, and then rested for a couple of months during the warm weather. Buffalo came forward in the fall with the offer of another match. The bouts were being well patronized there and the promoter’s were able to offer very good purses

This time the Buftalonians wanted me to meet Dick Moore, a middleweight who ranked as being one of the best. We were finally matched for twenty rounds for August 20th, 1896. Moore outweighed me by from twelve to fifteen pounds and proved to be fully as good as his reputation indicated. He was a hard hitter, fairly clever and had the advantage of weight, which he never overlooked using , when we clinched. I took a lot of punishment from Moore, but my speed gave me a big advantage and I was awarded the referee's decision when twenty hard rounds had been fought

Part 17 RYAN FIGHTS AROUND HIS HOME

MY STANDING WITH THE FAN'S of Central and Western New York was now fully assured and daily I had offers of bouts. I gave the promoters around my home, for I was then making my headquarters again in Syracuse, the preference in ALL my battles . The Empire Athletic club , which had staged my memorable battle with "Kid" McCoy, made me such a good offer to meet "Mysterious" Billy Smith again that I could not refuse. The articles called for a 20-round bout for a purse of $2,200 of which $2,000 was to go to the winner and $300 to the loser.

I established my training quarters on the old Plank road, near Syracuse, and soon had a big staff of trainers and sparring partners. Among the boys who showed up at the camp to work with me was a featherweight known as Billy Moore. And he certainly was a dandy. Moore was the first young- boxer I took hold of, taught the game and brought into prominence. I believe that he was the finest scrapper of his weight that was ever turned out of Central New York, and that is saying a great deal.

He looked so good that I matched him in a preliminary at Buffalo in October 1896 and he disposed of a young fellow named Kerwin and won popularity with the Buffalo fans. Moore remained with me and fought the semi- final to my battle with Smith at Maspeth on the night of November 25th, 1896, and again he won. I was in grand physical condition myself. The lesson taught me in the McCoy fight went home and the fans knowing this, made me a slight favorite over Smith. Billy Smith was one of the foulest fighters I ever met. He was an adept at using the elbows, hitting on the breakaway and continually kept up a string of abuse of his opponent.

To reinstate myself with the New York fans. I determined to stop him as quickly as possible. The agreement called for clean breaks in the clinches, but Smith would work a right uppercut around that official every time he went between us. He was warned frequently but it seemed to have no effect upon him. I soon had Smith in trouble and he was continually clinching. 30

About the hardest worked man in that ring was the referee. He finally tired of Smith's clinching and foul tactics and finally warned him that a repetition would mean a disqualification.

Despite this, the referee gave Smith another warning in the fourth and when he refused to take any notice the referee stopped the fight and gave me the decision. I walked over to Smith's corner to shake hands and show that there no ill feelings but he jumped up and tried to strike me, but was held back by his seconds. He then made an attack on the referee. Jem Mace, the noted English boxer and one of the finest boxers ever turned out of the little Island, was at the ringside. I made his acquaintance after the bout and we became great friends We took in the Dixon-Erne bout in New York two nights later and Mace then accompanied me back to Syracuse as my guest. A few years later, when I was in England. I returned his visit and the Englishman gave me one of the finest times I ever had in my life.

While in Syracuse Mace boxed me in a four round exhibition and greatly assisted me in my training for other bouts. The Empire A. C. of Buffalo, established new quarters on east Utica street about half a block from Main street in the Bison City, next made me an offer to meet Billy McCarthy, at one time the middleweight champion of Australia. The bout took place on December 21st 1896 and there was a big attendance. The ring was located in the center of a big ring and tiers of seats rose to the ceiling on all sides. A bit of over-confidence came near to costing me my fight with McCarthy. He failed to "show much" in the opening round and I figured that I was going to have a very easy victory. Wanting to give the fans a run for their money. I grew a bit careless in the second round and McCarthy swung a wild right that landed on tip point of my chin. I dropped in a daze. I was able to get on my feet at the count of nine, but it took all my ring generalship to enable me to finish out the round and get the much needed rest in the intermission.

Every fighter has a narrow escape from a knockout in a fight which he eventually won and the McCarthy bout proved to be my instance. I was very careful in the third round fought more carefully in the defense than offense as I wanted my senses to clear. In the fourth I had fully recovered and went after McCarthy again. I put him out in the seventh round.

The Olympic club of San Francisco then wired me an offer to fight George Green, known to the fight, fans as 'Young Corbett" for a purse of $2.500. I accepted, but other matters intervened to prevent the bout. A Syracuse club then arranged for me to meet Billy Paine and I had no difficulty in stopping him in four rounds. This bout took place early in January. 1897. Paine was a welterweight, but had no business meeting the top notchers.

I devoted considerable time to training Billy Moore and a.number of other young fellows that I had taken up and seconded them in many small bouts in Central and Western New York. While I was in Chicago a few years previous I had taught a young fellow named Billy Stift a few points of the game. He had kept on learning and turned out to be a pretty fair middleweight. I had lost track of him for a year or so, when I was surprised one day to get a telegram asking if I would meet him before a Chicago club. I accepted the offer and found that Stift was no longer an easy mark for me. He gave me a stiff battle for four rounds, but after that I wore him down and a couple of rounds more ended the bout.

31

Part 18

THE WELTERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD was at stake in my next bout, which took place at Syracuse, February 24th I897. Tommy Tracy was my opponent und the Australian was confident that he could defeat me. I had gained a decision over him two years previous in Chicago, but at that time he had made a very creditable showing and his friends declared that his added experience gave him an excellent chance with the champion.

Ed Dunkhorst , who afterwards won fame as "The Human Freight Car" because of his huge bulk, was one of my trainers for the Tracy bout. Dunkhorst weighed about 210 lb! at that time and seemed to be growing bigger every day. He afterward fought but that is another story which I will tell later on.

Part of my training consisted of skipping the rope about 2,000 times a day to improve my footwork, boxing with two or three sparring partners, punching the bag and a little road work. The bout took place in the Alhambru at Syracuse and over 3,000 fans jammed themselves into the big building. They literally "hung by their eyelashes.". Betting was brisk. It was even money that Tracy would not last twelve of the scheduled twenty rounds and two to one that I would win. For three rounds I gave the Australian an awful lacing, but he was game to the core and always came in for more. I soon saw that I would have no difficulty in winning. Tracy was frequently warned by the referee for hitting in the clinches and he clinched frequently. In the fifth round Tracy floored me with a right swing, but as soon as I was on my feet again I put a left to his jaw that made him very groggy from that time, Tracy was in bad shape.

It was the gong that saved Tracy in the next round for he was on the floor and all but out when the round ended. Just before the bell sounded Dan Creedon, the Australian middleweight, who was in his corner, sprinkled water over Tracy in an effort to bring him to. I protested to Referee Sullivan and Creedon seemed to think that he had to have a fight with me to. We almost had it before the fight was over. Again in the eighth, Creedon violated the rules. I had floored Tracy when Creedon vaulted over the ropes and into the ring to go to the aid of his principal. Referee Sullivan's back was turned and he didn't see it for the other seconds pulled Creedon back before a foul could be awarded me.

When I had administered the knockout punch in the ninth round, Creedon again vaulted into the ring and made for me. We squared off and a second fight seemed imminent when others there interfered and took the raging Australian to the dressing rooms. This bout was my sixty- third with but one defeat—that by a man who greatly outweighed me and whom I had gone out of my class to meet- ―Kid" McCoy. Following this bout I made every effort to close a match with George Green ("Young Corbett") for which the Olympic club of San Francisco was still negotiating.

Green had challenged me and the Club made an offer for the match. When I accepted Green insisted on making many conditions, all of which accepted. When everything looked bright for the match Green made an exorbitant demand upon the club for expense allowance, and they refused to deal further with him. Patsy Raedy, a light heavyweight, and then quite a favorite in Rochester club sked me to meet him, and as they met my financial demands the match was made. The bout was interesting, but Raedy was slow and I gradually wore him down. In the seventh round Raedy was all in and the referee stopped the bout, giving me 32

credit for a knockout. Raedy and his friends set up an awful noise. They alleged that they had been robbed of the match and that the Rochester man would surely have won had the bout not been stopped.

In the meantime the club made me an offer to fight Paddy Gorman there and I did so winning in three rounds by a knockout. The agitation of Raedy and his friends for another match still continued. Finally officers of the club and the referee visited me in Syracuse and asked me to meet him again and settle the question once and for all. "Knock him out properly so that he will have no more kicks' to make," was their request.

I met Raedy for the second time on July 10th, 1897. I felt a bit sore at the remarks of Raedy and was determined that there would be no question over the result of our second encounter. I gave Raedy as severe a beating as I ever handed out to any opponent, and then knocked him out in the sixth round. Thus ended my bouts with the Rochester light heavyweight and there was no more complaint from him or his friends that he had been robbed in our first battle.

"Kid" McCoy had been getting a number of bouts on the strength of a victory over me and was paying little or no attention to the efforts that were made to bring about a second encounter between us. The newspapers were demanding that we meet for a second time and that was just what I wanted. But McCoy was coy and it was a long time before I could again get him into the ring

part 19 please note that the parts of the text of the original article are unclear so possible errors may exist.

POLICE STOP SECOND McCOY – RYAN BOUT

ALWAYS ALERT FOR ANOTHER CHANCE AT ―Kid‖ McCoy I was very well pleased when during the summer of 1897, the newspapers Throughout the country began to demand that McCoy again meet me or admit that he had won by a fluke at Maspeth a little more than a year previous.

Many clubs wanted the bout. San Francisco, New Orleans, Buffalo, New York and Syracuse promoters were among: those I remember who wanted to stage a contest between McCoy and myself. Finally McCoy agreed to consider proposals for a bout. He saw that he could get no recognized standing with the sporting authorities of the country unless he paid some attention to my challenges, I was anxious to wipe out the stain of my only defeat in my ring career.

McCoy finally agreed that we should meet in a twenty-round battle before the club offering the best inducements, the weight to be 158 pounds, When the proposals were opened it was found that the Empire A. C. of Syracuse had made the beet offer — a purse o£ 55,000 — and we agreed to fight before that club on the night of September 8th, 1907. So great was the interest in this bout that the club had to rearrange the seating arrangements of the big Alhambra in Syracuse and among the improvements they erected a big balcony to accommodate several hundred fans who could not secure reservations on the main floor.

I had some trouble with my legs and went to Michigan for my early training: returning to Syracuse in August. I then established my training quarters at Frenchman's island, but soon 33

found it too damp and transferred my headquarters to Mesina where I remained until a couple of days before the fight. Bob Armstrong , the old-time Negro heavy weight , was my chief trainer and he gave particular attention to building up my weight and yet keeping me in the best of physical condition, When I returned to Syracuse for the bout I was in fine condition and quite confident of a victory.

McCoy was the favourite in the betting. Two weeks before the bouts he was a favourite at 4 to 3 with heavy amounts being-wagered. On the day of the bout the odds had drifted to 10 to 7 with McCoy still the favourite. The big building was jammed when we entered the ring about 10 o'clock that evening. Around the ring were gathered many of the most noted sporting men in the country. George Siler, the noted ring authority, was referee.

I had only to think of the punishment handed me by McCoy eighteen months previous to spur me on. I was about as heavy us McCoy — provided he weighed only the 153 he claimed, but which I greatly doubt and from the very first gong I set a fast pace and was continually rushing my opponent. A few days before the bout he declared that he would land his ―corkscrew‖ punch on my nose three times in the first round. I saw to it that he didn’t land it once and had him on the defence from the start. For four rounds I kept up the fast pace and rushing tactics and slowly wore my opponent down.

In the fifth I had him in trouble and hanging over the ropes when the police inspector took of his hat and tried to throw it into the ring. The officers aim was bad and the hat rolled to the press table. He then got up and crawled between the ropes calling upon referee Siler to end the bout. Siler immediately ordered us to stop fighting, and as the articles called for intervention in the event of interference from the police, he called the bout a draw, declaring afterwards that the battle had not gone far enough to warrant a decision being given the either man.

Afterwards the inspector declared that he had received orders from the chief of police to stop the bout any time it got to be a slugging match or anything other than a scientific boxing. He thought that McCoy was being slugged and accordingly put an end to the bout. There was little sleep for me that night. The whole city seemed to be in a ferment of excitement and early next morning a friend of mine and a representative of McCoy posted $250 each with a prominent Syracuse hotel keeper to bind a third match provided satisfactory weight could be arranged.

Negotiations for a third battle proceeded for some time. A New Orleans promoter made every effort to get the match. When the negotiations for this match fell through I accepted terms to meet Billy Stift in Chicago in November for a purse of $3.000 and for another bout five days later in Elmira, N.Y. with Jack Ryan for a purse of $1000. I won both bouts rather easily defeating: Stift in six rounds and Ryan in five by a knockout.

Part 20 Ryan Defeats George Green in West

M Y NEXT BOUTT took place in San Francisco and was with George Green but before I made the lone trip to California there was a lot of talk of matching me with "Kid" Lavigine. He talked a lot to the sporting writers and told them that he could defeat me and I finally offered to meet him at 145 pounds, ringside. I had been growing heavier and that was the best weight I could safely promise to make. But Lavigne did not take up the offer. 34

"Kid" McCoy, too, was doing a lot of talking to the newspapermen. He declared that he could defeat me again, but when I reached San Francisco and had a club there offer a $7,600 purse, McCoy failed to say anything more. George Green was a big favourite in the West and while I ruled a 10 to 6 favourite, the great majority of the "Western fans had an idea that he could defeat me. Green was a bit young, had an advantage of nearly ten pounds in weight and had a longer reach.

The fight was to be for a purse of $4,000 and was staged by the of San Francisco. Despite the fact that there were, over 2,000 fans at the fight, the receipts did not reach the sum expected by the promoters and they failed to pay us the purse agreed. Instead we were forced to accept about $1,000 each for the fight. I did my training at Oakland. Cal., under the supervision of Billy Delaney the well known Western trainer. It was while I was in Oakland that I met Jim Jeffries, afterwards heavyweight champion of the world. I later took charge of Jeffries's training, But of that I will have more to say in another article. The fight with Green took place February 25th. 1898. During the final week of my training I had considerable ill fortune, but was in good condition when I went into the ring; except for some stomach trouble.

I had planned my battle with Green before I entered the ring. Knowing him to be the heavier, for he was up to the limit of 158 pounds, while I weighed 148, I decided to let him make the early pace and save my strength until he had worn himself out. For the first thirteen rounds I stood my ground and Green gradually wore himself out by tearing into me continually. Between the rounds his chest would heave and his lower lip drooped, while I could see in his eyes that he was tiring fast.

From the thirteenth round I took the aggressive and in the eighteenth I dropped Green. Referee Jim McDonald counted him out and he struggled back to his feet, declaring that he had been down only six or seven seconds, but the crowd was with me and declared that the count had been fair. Next day all the newspapers agreed with the referee and declared that even had Green been allowed to continue he could not have lasted another round.

In addition to the trouble I had over the purse, I later discovered that a scheme had been on foot to rob me of the decision had the fight gone the twenty-round limit. The big trouble with the fights in San Francisco about that time was that the gamblers had the upper hand. Everybody seemed to be crazy to bet and thousands upon thousands of dollars were wagered on every bout. Even the women of San Francisco had the gambling fever and they would pawn their jewellery to get money to bet on a fight. In all my ring experience I never found a similar situation. Gambling hurts boxing just as it does any other sport and it was the gambling that finally got the game in bad in the west. It was a long time before it was again established firmly.

I remained in the west for several weeks waiting to see what ―Kid‖ McCoy planned to do in regard to a third battle A club there stood ready to offer a purse of $7,600 and I was willing to make a side bet of $5.000 if McCoy would meet me. The club drew up the articles and I signed them, but when they sent them to McCoy he failed to answer, I knew then that it had all been bluff and bluster and that he was not anxious to meet me again.

I then returned to Syracuse and took charge of a number of promising young pupils. In the 35

meantime various, clubs throughout the country were anxious to match me for bouts, but the great difficulty was to secure opponents who would make a hard bout for me and draw a good crowd. The fans like to see a champion all right, but they want to see that champion in a bout where he is forced to extend himself and no champion will draw a good "house" when he is to be opposed by a third-rate opponent.

Dan Creed on was mentioned as a probable opponent and the Greater New York Athletic club offered a purse of $2,500 for a bout. I accepted, providing the purse was made $3,000 and Creedon would agree to make 158 pounds at the ringside There were several hitches and the match was not made. .Billy Madden was then boosting Gus Ruhlin for the world's heavyweight championship. He secured a match for Ruhlin with "Kid" McCoy to take place in Syracuse. He then brought Ruhlin to me and asked me to take charge of his work.

I won't forget the first tryout I gave this fellow. It took place in a room of a hotel at Elmwood, a Syracuse suburb . The room was not over fourteen feet square and was cleared of furniture as a temporary ring. Madden held the watch and Ruhlin and I went four fast and furious rounds. I wanted to make sure he was game and found that he was.We were both as much marked by that bout as we would have been in a regular bout. 'My next bout took place in New York on June 13th, 1898, and was with Tommy West. It was a hard battle, but I was at no time in doubt as to the ultimate result, and after about two minutes of the fourteenth round Referee Charley White stopped the bout at my request and the demands of the fans for West was "all In‖ and I saw no necessity for a game man taking any further punishment. West however, was not satisfied and I met him later in the year, but of that more later.