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Every Joe Gans Lightweight Title Fight – Part 9: Jimmy Britt

Every Joe Gans Lightweight Title Fight – Part 9: Jimmy Britt
There is no difference between a white man and a colored man when they are in a ring. If a man acts wrongfully his color will not prejudice me in his favor. – Referee Eddie Graney, Nov. 1, 1904.
On October the sixth, 1904, on the back page of the San Francisco Chronicle, an article appeared regarding the next lightweight world championship title fight to be contested by reigning world champion Joe Gans that to modern eyes seems strange.
“Unless Al Herford balks at the terms demanded by the Britts, there is now every prospect of a fight between Joe Gans and Jimmy Britt within the next thirty days. Last night Manager Willie Britt gave Herford his ultimatum in the matter of terms, and to-night the two will meet in the office of the Yosemite club to make further negotiations.”
It is hard, first, to imagine two superstars of the modern fight game agreeing to fight and then doing so within the month, but more than that, the arrangement seems backwards. It is Jimmy Britt, the challenger, who makes demands of the champion’s manager; it is Gans, not Britt, who is expected to accept these edicts.
Uncomfortably we know that this is because Gans was black and Britt, who had sworn never to cross the colour-line but nevertheless began to name himself “champion”, was white. This also made him the draw.
“[Britt] demands that the purse be split as follows,” continued the Chronicle. “75 percent to Britt if he wins…50 percent if he loses. The weight stipulated is 133lbs.”
Herford’s statement the following day was short: “The terms proposed by Britt are acceptable. I am ready to sign the articles.”
“He is willing to get the fight on almost any terms,” said one San Francisco newspaper of Herford. They may as well have been speaking of Gans.
Gans had wanted Britt for his entire reign, but it is notable that he became much more insistent after Britt began calling himself the “white champion.” Herford may have known what that meant for his bottom line, but for all that Gans conducted himself as a gentleman in public, he must have felt the bristle of the true king suffering another champion in his division. Seen properly, Britt at the very least represented the clear number one contender to Joe’s title and so Joe was determined to meet him. That he was on the short end of the money boxing in San Francisco, his challenger’s hometown, and had to make weight ten minutes before the gong seemed small matters by comparison.
“If this pair get into the ring,” as the San Francisco Examiner put it, “one of the greatest ring battles the world has ever seen will surely come to pass…the fistic world is agog…for two years the followers of the game have been waiting for the two men to come together and now their wishes to see the white man and [Gans] in the same ring are to be gratified.”
Thoughts turned now to how the technical matters of the affair might play.
“Britt has a wicked left to the body that has won for him all of his fights. No one has ever been able to block it. Gans is a great fighter on the defensive and the way he handled Walcott’s swings to the body in their fight opened the eyes of Britt as well as those who follow the game closely.”
Yes, Walcott.
Barbados Joe Walcott, “The Barbados Demon” remains one of the greatest fighters ever to have laced on a pair of boots. Whether he was cutting weight to the absolute limit of what was possible for the late 19th century to match the era’s best lightweights, or eating his way to within spitting distance of the middleweight limit to fight the 6’3” 215lb heavyweight Sandy Ferguson, Walcott was a fighter who sought the company of the most difficult challenges boxing could provide. Joe Gans was one of them.
As we saw in Parts Seven and Eight, a certain restlessness at the 135lb limit seemed to plague Gans and it was perhaps no coincidence that his performances at the weight were beginning to suffer. When he was matched in September of 1904 with Walcott, Gans, perhaps, had reason to focus.
It is rare that two of the greatest fighters in divisional history meet and rarer still that two of the very greatest fighters in history meet. Walcott and Gans absolutely qualify and in stepping up to welterweight to match the great man, Gans was responsible for staging a legitimate superfight. For all that Walcott was no longer the machine of 1902 he was a terrifying opponent for a smaller man, especially one with a fight as big as Gans-Britt on the horizon. Nevertheless, four weeks before the bell for one of the biggest fights in lightweight history, the gong sounded for an even bigger fight.
The fight was a strange mix of thrills and disappointments. Gans was clearly the better man; Walcott hurt his wrist on Joe’s elbow in the third perhaps detaching or tearing a ligament, a debilitating injury for a prize-fighter. Named “spectacular” and including “cleverness of the highest order,” Walcott boring in, Gans tattooing him with punches that had dispatched a slew of lightweights but made little impression upon what remains one of the sport’s great chins.
In the sixteenth, Gans drove home a sizzling right-hand just as the referee stepped in to separate the two and absorbed a serious punch; Gans was mortified and spent much of the minute between rounds apologising to the referee. There were those present who believed the punch may have been the key in deciding the outcome.
“My decision was a just one,” referee and sole judge Jack Welch said of his drawn verdict. “Gans had a shade the better of the fight, but Walcott made up for it by his aggressive tactics…both men were on their feet and fighting hard at the end of the twentieth round…I know many people believe I gave a bad decision, but my conscience does not trouble me, as I am sure I acted properly. Gans may have shown greater cleverness than Walcott but his lead was not sufficient to earn him the decision…Walcott led as much as Gans.”
Gans did not agree.
“I don’t like to criticise the referee’s decision but I think I should have had it…there is now only one man in the world I want to fight and that is Jimmy Britt.”
Ten days later, twenty days before that fight, betting began in earnest at even money. Gans set up training camp at San Rafael, early for him, and on the same day Britt set up at Seal Rock on the west side of San Francisco. As the two entered training in earnest a hint as to the source of Britt’s reluctance to cross the colour-line emerged when comments his father made to a Chicago newspaperman began to emerge in the local press. Britt Senior had reportedly said that he would prefer to see his son dead than “to see him fight Gans or any other colored man.” Such was Britt Senior’s influence that there was some speculation as to whether the fight would go ahead. Upon his return to San Francisco though, he once again expressed his disgust but insisted he would not interfere. “Gans,” noted the Oakland Tribute, “is certainly the equal of any white fighter as a gentleman.”
Now two weeks from bell, the fight was being balanced as the champion’s generalship versus Britt’s left hand to the body and his relative comfort at 133lbs. Less discussed: as well as selecting the fight site, the poundage, that the fight should begin ten minutes after the weights were taken, and the purse split, the challenger had also insisted upon a local referee. This was to be a matter of some import. Eddie Graney, a San Francisco man, was the choice.
“There are no ethics in the prize-fighting business,” was a quote attributed to Britt on an unrelated matter, but certainly these words were fit to describe his conduct in dictating terms. Graney felt differently, as shall be seen.
Gans, meanwhile, seemed relaxed about the weight. He observed the Lord’s Day on the sixteenth and wrote his wife, who “had to have a letter every day.” He also chatted with newspapermen, something of a rarity for Joe.
“I never aim to hurt a man more than I have to,” offered Gans, a shocking admission for one of the most successful fighters in history, among the hardest hitting punchers of his generation, by now one of the best finishers of any. “I feel around for two or three rounds, size up the enemy and when I have the problem figured out I say to myself, ‘I’ll let this last eight or ten rounds to give the public an exhibition and then I’ll get this fellow.’ I have made mistakes. I have miscalculated and some times a fight has gone twenty rounds with the decision a draw when I have had it all figured out that I was the winner.”
Asked if he had the Walcott fight in mind with this last, Gans demurred. “I ain’t specifying.”
Hearing an elite fighter talk so openly and honestly about himself and his strategies and his shortfalls and his terrifying confidence in his abilities is quite something. It was abnormal for this era and it has remained so for the next 117 years.
Britt agreed with him on the point of weight.
“I am satisfied that Gans will be as strong at the weight as he is at any other, only he will not weigh a pond more than I do…I realize that in Gans I am meeting the hardest man of my career. He is a wonderfully stiff puncher and is an artist at the game, but I figure that by carrying the fight to him I can beat him down.”
Those words are prevalent, “I can beat him down.”
Joe Gans, meanwhile, had adopted “the sandman” from the James Jeffries camp to augment his indoor work. Vaguely manlike in appearance this sparring partner filled with sand allowed Gans to shift any stubborn weight while strengthening his stance and grappling skills, and is arguably a key point in his training methods. Britt worked more traditionally, running, walking, swimming in the sea before boxing and working with weights. Special emphasis was placed upon strengthening the wrist. Eleven days out Britt weighed just over 135lbs and claimed he had “never felt stronger.” Gans did twelve miles on the road that same day and ten the next, top end of what was normal for him but on the twentieth, Gans weighed 136lbs, well in sight of the weight. The next day, he weighed in just under 135lbs and took a day off roadwork, a little too near to be happy.
On the twenty-third both men sparred publicly. Britt appeared in glorious shape and his fast workout was called early after a sluicing left cut his opponent’s right eye. Gans, too, impressed, most of all with the news that he was within “a few ounces” of the required poundage. Still pressmen seemed obsessed with the question for it seemed to many the one that would decide the fight: what would Gans have left at 133lbs?
“There is nothing more to be stripped from his frame,” wrote WW Naughton for the Examiner on the twenty-sixth. “When I saw him yesterday after an interval of a few days the change in his appearance was striking. His features sharpened…his face seemed to have narrowed…his body looks as though the low water mark has been reached.”
There was a two-column piece on the front of the Chronicle’s sports pages the following day reporting that Joe Gans had eaten a chicken. Related or not, his weight reached over 136lbs the following day.
Britt stopped boxing on the twenty-seventh with three days remaining before the gong. “No more,” he told reporters, “I don’t need it. I am thoroughly loosened up and haven’t a stiff joint or sore spot about me. My hands are in particularly fine shape and it would be foolish to take risks.”
Superficially, the two camps were relaxed, but on the twenty-ninth with mere hours to go, tempers spilled over at a meeting between the two management teams and the press, the subject, once again, the champion’s weight. Rumours had been swirling that Britt would withdraw if Gans was overweight and Al Herford stoked these fires in a face-to-face meeting with Willie Britt where he claimed that the challenger wanted to “wriggle out” of the fight and would walk away “if Joe were half a pound over.” This was loose talk on the part of Herford, talk that could hurt the gate and was considered then, even more than now, bad form. The language with which Willie exploded in turn though was something, Gans once again labelled a “coon” by a man named Britt. He then demanded that the forfeit for making weight – already colossal at $2500 – be doubled. Then trebled.
“The sentiment from both sides,” noted The Chronicle, “was significant.”
Battling Nelson arrived in town with money to wager on Britt. “He’s struggling to make weight,” was his opinion, one that seemed to be found on every street corner and in every newspaper. Herford seethed. In nothing less than a decree he informed press that “From now until the time Joe Gans steps on the scales at the ringside Monday night his weight must remain a mystery to all save himself, his trainer and his manager.”
“Britt is the man I’ve always wanted to fight,” said Gans the day before the contest. A claim made by many pugilists on the eve of many fights across the century, it is nothing but the truth when spoken by Joe. This was so often the case. “Now that the chance has come my way I’m not going to kick because I have to work pretty hard to make the weight. I don’t’ want to run Britt down but I can’t see how he figures on winning…I’ll be able to knock him down in ten rounds. It may go longer but that’s the way it’ll end.”
“I never was in better shape in my life,” claimed Britt. “I am stronger and bigger and know more about fighting than I ever did. I expect to win…I intend to fight no waiting battle. I will rough it with Gans and will try to knock him out early – perhaps about the seventh or eighth round. He will have to do some talk footwork to get out of my way.”
Gans could not get out of Britt’s way, and he placed the blame squarely upon the weight.
“I was too weak to do myself justice,” he said immediately after the fight. “After I went to my corner in the second round I knew it. I would like to fight Britt again but I would not do it at 133lbs ringside. It is the first time I did it in my life. I will fight Britt at 133 pounds weigh in at 3 o’clock or 135 ringside.”
Nevertheless, Gans remained the champion, though few title fights have been decided amid such total chaos.
Gans boxed his typical first, the first he described to pressmen two Sunday’s prior, watching, learning and measuring while Britt forced the fight. In the second, matters revealed themselves and the two went to war, slugging “like tigers” although already, according to the San Francisco Call, Gans seemed unlike himself. Slugging continued through the third and Britt began to find Gans to the body, shots that seemingly troubled him; in the fourth we have our first major divergence of accounts.
According to the Call, Gans took a knee in the fourth to escape punishment, clearly troubled by bodyshots but not so troubled as to go down involuntary. Britt himself agreed; Gans was falling “without a glove” being laid upon him. Gans, contrarily, stated that he was hit and hurt by bodyshots throughout and especially in the fourth. The Chronicle, meanwhile, states the first fall was a clear slip, but the second, third and fourth were dishonest, an escape of pressure, the Chronicle politely referring to as “generalship.” The Examiner has Gans being hit with a right hand to the heart for the first knockdown, and taking the second, third and fourth as rest.
The third and fourth of these though must be framed through what happened after the second. Britt blasted Gans with a right hand as he kneeled upon the canvas. Referee Graney at this point was clear, and according to the Examiner reporter, who was in earshot, he told Britt: “If you do that once more, I will disqualify you.” That rejoinder “once more” may lend credence to the Examiner’s report that Britt struck Gans while down not once but twice.
The fourth then, ended in uproar, but things got significantly worse in the fifth.
According to the Call, Britt “sailed into Gans,” throwing caution to the wind and many punches with it. Gans was bowled to the canvas once more. The Call did not like it and makes a point of framing Gans as stalling once more; the Chronicle describes a right hand to the heart as the direct cause of knockdown and the Examiner saw the same punch: “a right-hand blow…caught [Gans] on the left side.”
Britt then attacked Gans once more as he kneeled, striking him at least twice with left then right and possibly three times. Immediately Referee Graney followed through on his promise from the fourth round and waved the contest off, signalling Gans the winner by disqualification. Immediately, Britt drew back his right and smashed the referee in the face. Britt and Graney fell to the canvas, wrestling. The police stormed the ring and separated the two. Graney tore his tuxedo jacket from his frame as he was lifted and tried once again to attack Britt while gamblers rushed the ring demanding that all bets be cancelled – or honoured, depending upon where they had their money.
It was a weary, weary Gans that watched all this from his corner. There is no way to know for sure but based upon his own testimony of his weakened state and the bloodlust that was upon Britt, it seems that only one winner was possible. Either way, even as he watched Britt wrestle with the referee, Gans must have known that this fight would have consequences and he would be proven right – consequences for his reputation; for his grasp upon the lightweight title; even for his tomb.
Next time we will look in detail at the fallout from the Britt fiasco and at the long cold winter of the Joe Gans title reign, 1905.
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Avila Perspective, Chap. 323: Benn vs Eubank Family Feud and More

Next generation rivals Conor Benn and Chris Eubank Jr. carry on the family legacy of feudal warring in the prize ring on Saturday.
This is huge in British boxing.
Eubank (34-3, 25 KOs) holds the fringe IBO middleweight title but won’t be defending it against the smaller welterweight Benn (23-0, 14 KOs) on Saturday, April 26, at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in London. DAZN will stream the Matchroom Boxing card.
This is about family pride.
The parents of Eubank and Benn actually began the feud in the 1990s.
Papa Nigel Benn fought Papa Chris Eubank twice. Losing as a middleweight in November 1990 at Birmingham, England, then fighting to a draw as a super middleweight in October 1993 in Manchester. Both were world title fights.
Eubank was undefeated and won the WBO middleweight world title in 1990 against Nigel Benn by knockout. He defended it three times before moving up and winning the vacant WBO super middleweight title in September 1991. He defended the super middleweight title 14 times before suffering his first pro defeat in March 1995 against Steve Collins.
Benn won the WBO middleweight title in April 1990 against Doug DeWitt and defended it once before losing to Eubank in November 1990. He moved up in weight and took the WBC super middleweight title from Mauro Galvano in Italy by technical knockout in October 1992. He defended the title nine times until losing in March 1996. His last fight was in November 1996, a loss to Steve Collins.
Animosity between the two families continues this weekend in the boxing ring.
Conor Benn, the son of Nigel, has fought mostly as a welterweight but lately has participated in the super welterweight division. He is several inches shorter in height than Eubank but has power and speed. Kind of a British version of Gervonta “Tank” Davis.
“It’s always personal, every opponent I fight is personal. People want to say it’s strictly business, but it’s never business. If someone is trying to put their hands on me, trying to render me unconscious, it’s never business,” said Benn.
This fight was scheduled twice before and cut short twice due to failed PED tests by Benn. The weight limit agreed upon is 160 pounds.
Eubank, a natural middleweight, has exchanged taunts with Benn for years. He recently avenged a loss to Liam Smith with a knockout victory in September 2023.
“This fight isn’t about size or weight. It’s about skill. It’s about dedication. It’s about expertise and all those areas in which I excel in,” said Eubank. “I have many, many more years of experience over Conor Benn, and that will be the deciding factor of the night.”
Because this fight was postponed twice, the animosity between the two feuding fighters has increased the attention of their fans. Both fighters are anxious to flatten each other.
“He’s another opponent in my way trying to crush my dreams. trying to take food off my plate and trying to render me unconscious. That’s how I look at him,” said Benn.
Eubank smiles.
“Whether it’s boxing, whether it’s a gun fight. Defense, offense, foot movement, speed, power. I am the superior boxer in each of those departments and so many more – which is why I’m so confident,” he said.
Supporting Bout
Former world champion Liam Smith (33-4-1, 20 KOs) tangles with Ireland’s Aaron McKenna (19-0, 10 KOs) in a middleweight fight set for 12 rounds on the Benn-Eubank undercard in London.
“Beefy” Smith has long been known as one of the fighting Smith brothers and recently lost to Eubank a year and a half ago. It was only the second time in 38 bouts he had been stopped. Saul “Canelo” Alvarez did it several years ago.
McKenna is a familiar name in Southern California. The Irish fighter fought numerous times on Golden Boy Promotion cards between 2017 and 2019 before returning to the United Kingdom and his assault on continuing the middleweight division. This is a big step for the tall Irish fighter.
It’s youth versus experience.
“I’ve been calling for big fights like this for the last two or three years, and it’s a fight I’m really excited for. I plan to make the most of it and make a statement win on Saturday night,” said McKenna, one of two fighting brothers.
Monster in L.A.
Japan’s super star Naoya “Monster” Inoue arrived in Los Angeles for last day workouts before his Las Vegas showdown against Ramon Cardenas on Sunday May 4, at T-Mobile Arena. ESPN will televise and stream the Top Rank card.
It’s been four years since the super bantamweight world champion performed in the US and during that time Naoya (29-0, 26 KOs) gathered world titles in different weight divisions. The Japanese slugger has also gained fame as perhaps the best fighter on the planet. Cardenas is 26-1 with 14 KOs.
Pomona Fights
Super featherweights Mathias Radcliffe (9-0-1) and Ezequiel Flores (6-4) lead a boxing card called “DMG Night of Champions” on Saturday April 26, at the historic Fox Theater in downtown Pomona, Calif.
Michaela Bracamontes (11-2-1) and Jesus Torres Beltran (8-4-1) will be fighting for a regional WBC super featherweight title. More than eight bouts are scheduled.
Doors open at 6 p.m. For ticket information go to: www.tix.com/dmgnightofchampions
Fights to Watch
Sat. DAZN 9 a.m. Conor Benn (23-0) vs Chris Eubank Jr. (34-3); Liam Smith (33-4-1) vs Aaron McKenna (19-0).
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Floyd Mayweather has Another Phenom and his name is Curmel Moton

Floyd Mayweather has Another Phenom and his name is Curmel Moton
In any endeavor, the defining feature of a phenom is his youth. Philadelphia Phillies outfielder Bryce Harper was a phenom. He was on the radar screen of baseball’s most powerful player agents when he was 14 years old.
Curmel Moton, who turns 19 in June, is a phenom. Of all the young boxing stars out there, wrote James Slater in July of last year, “Curmel Moton is the one to get most excited about.”
Moton was born in Salt Lake City, Utah. His father Curtis Moton, a barber by trade, was a big boxing fan and specifically a big fan of Floyd Mayweather Jr. When Curmel was six, Curtis packed up his wife (Curmel’s stepmom) and his son and moved to Las Vegas. Curtis wanted his son to get involved in boxing and there was no better place to develop one’s latent talents than in Las Vegas where many of the sport’s top practitioners came to train.
Many father-son relationships have been ruined, or at least frayed, by a father’s unrealistic expectations for his son, but when it came to boxing, the boy was a natural and he felt right at home in the gym.
The gym the Motons patronized was the Mayweather Boxing Club. Curtis took his son there in hopes of catching the eye of the proprietor. “Floyd would occasionally drop by the gym and I was there so often that he came to recognize me,” says Curmel. What he fails to add is that the trainers there had Floyd’s ear. “This kid is special,” they told him.
It costs a great deal of money for a kid to travel around the country competing in a slew of amateur boxing tournaments. Only a few have the luxury of a sponsor. For the vast majority, fund raisers such as car washes keep the wheels greased.
Floyd Mayweather stepped in with the financial backing needed for the Motons to canvas the country in tournaments. As an amateur, Curmel was — take your pick — 156-7 or 144-6 or 61-3 (the latter figure from boxrec). Regardless, at virtually every tournament at which he appeared, Curmel Moton was the cock of the walk.
Before the pandemic, Floyd Mayweather Jr had a stable of boxers he promoted under the banner of “The Money Team.” In talking about his boxers, Floyd was understated with one glaring exception – Gervonta “Tank” Davis, now one of boxing’s top earners.
When Floyd took to praising Curmel Moton with the same effusive language, folks stood up and took notice.
Curmel made his pro debut on Sept. 30, 2023, at the T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas on the undercard of the super middleweight title fight between Canelo Alvarez and Jermell Charlo. After stopping his opponent in the opening round, he addressed a flock of reporters in the media room with Floyd standing at his side. “I felt ready,” he said, “I knew I had Floyd behind me. He believes in me. I had the utmost confidence going into the fight. And I went in there and did what I do.”
Floyd ventured the opinion that Curmel was already a better fighter than Leigh Wood, the reigning WBA world featherweight champion who would successfully defend his belt the following week.
Moton’s boxing style has been described as a blend of Floyd Mayweather and Tank Davis. “I grew up watching Floyd, so it’s natural I have some similarities to him,” says Curmel who sparred with Tank in late November of 2021 as Davis was preparing for his match with Isaac “Pitbull” Cruz. Curmell says he did okay. He was then 15 years old and still in school; he dropped out as soon as he reached the age of 16.
Curmel is now 7-0 with six KOs, four coming in the opening round. He pitched an 8-round shutout the only time he was taken the distance. It’s not yet official, but he returns to the ring on May 31 at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas where Caleb Plant and Jermall Charlo are co-featured in matches conceived as tune-ups for a fall showdown. The fight card will reportedly be free for Amazon Prime Video subscribers.
Curmel’s presumptive opponent is Renny Viamonte, a 28-year-old Las Vegas-based Cuban with a 4-1-1 (2) record. It will be Curmel’s first professional fight with Kofi Jantuah the chief voice in his corner. A two-time world title challenger who began his career in his native Ghana, the 50-year-old Jantuah has worked almost exclusively with amateurs, a recent exception being Mikaela Mayer.
It would seem that the phenom needs a tougher opponent than Viamonte at this stage of his career. However, the match is intriguing in one regard. Viamonte is lanky. Listed at 5-foot-11, he will have a seven-inch height advantage.
Keeping his weight down has already been problematic for Moton. He tipped the scales at 128 ½ for his most recent fight. His May 31 bout, he says, will be contested at 135 and down the road it’s reasonable to think he will blossom into a welterweight. And with each bump up in weight, his short stature will theoretically be more of a handicap.
For fun, we asked Moton to name the top fighter on his pound-for-pound list. “[Oleksandr] Usyk is number one right now,” he said without hesitation,” great footwork, but guys like Canelo, Crawford, Inoue, and Bivol are right there.”
It’s notable that there isn’t a young gun on that list. Usyk is 38, a year older than Crawford; Inoue is the pup at age 32.
Moton anticipates that his name will appear on pound-for-pound lists within the next two or three years. True, history is replete with examples of phenoms who flamed out early, but we wouldn’t bet against it.
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Arne’s Almanac: The First Boxing Writers Assoc. of America Dinner Was Quite the Shindig

The first annual dinner of the Boxing Writers Association of America was staged on April 25, 1926 in the grand ballroom of New York’s Hotel Astor, an edifice that rivaled the original Waldorf Astoria as the swankiest hotel in the city. Back then, the organization was known as the Boxing Writers Association of Greater New York.
The ballroom was configured to hold 1200 for the banquet which was reportedly oversubscribed. Among those listed as agreeing to attend were the governors of six states (New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, and Maryland) and the mayors of 10 of America’s largest cities.
In 1926, radio was in its infancy and the digital age was decades away (and inconceivable). So, every journalist who regularly covered boxing was a newspaper and/or magazine writer, editor, or cartoonist. And at this juncture in American history, there were plenty of outlets for someone who wanted to pursue a career as a sportswriter and had the requisite skills to get hired.
The following papers were represented at the inaugural boxing writers’ dinner:
New York Times
New York News
New York World
New York Sun
New York Journal
New York Post
New York Mirror
New York Telegram
New York Graphic
New York Herald Tribune
Brooklyn Eagle
Brooklyn Times
Brooklyn Standard Union
Brooklyn Citizen
Bronx Home News
This isn’t a complete list because a few of these papers, notably the New York World and the New York Journal, had strong afternoon editions that functioned as independent papers. Plus, scribes from both big national wire services (Associated Press and UPI) attended the banquet and there were undoubtedly a smattering of scribes from papers in New Jersey and Connecticut.
Back then, the event’s organizer Nat Fleischer, sports editor of the New York Telegram and the driving force behind The Ring magazine, had little choice but to limit the journalistic component of the gathering to writers in the New York metropolitan area. There wasn’t a ballroom big enough to accommodate a good-sized response if he had extended the welcome to every boxing writer in North America.
The keynote speaker at the inaugural dinner was New York’s charismatic Jazz Age mayor James J. “Jimmy” Walker, architect of the transformative Walker Law of 1920 which ushered in a new era of boxing in the Empire State with a template that would guide reformers in many other jurisdictions.
Prizefighting was then associated with hooligans. In his speech, Mayor Walker promised to rid the sport of their ilk. “Boxing, as you know, is closest to my heart,” said hizzoner. “So I tell you the police force is behind you against those who would besmirch or injure boxing. Rowdyism doesn’t belong in this town or in your game.” (In 1945, Walker would be the recipient of the Edward J. Neil Memorial Award given for meritorious service to the sport. The oldest of the BWAA awards, the previous recipients were all active or former boxers. The award, no longer issued under that title, was named for an Associated Press sportswriter and war correspondent who died from shrapnel wounds covering the Spanish Civil War.)
Another speaker was well-traveled sportswriter Wilbur Wood, then affiliated with the Brooklyn Citizen. He told the assembly that the aim of the organization was two-fold: to help defend the game against its detractors and to promote harmony among the various factions.
Of course, the 1926 dinner wouldn’t have been as well-attended without the entertainment. According to press dispatches, Broadway stars and performers from some of the city’s top nightclubs would be there to regale the attendees. Among the names bandied about were vaudeville superstars Sophie Tucker and Jimmy Durante, the latter of whom would appear with his trio, Durante, (Lou) Clayton, and (Eddie) Jackson.
There was a contraction of New York newspapers during the Great Depression. Although empirical evidence is lacking, the inaugural boxing writers dinner was likely the largest of its kind. Fifteen years later, in 1941, the event drew “more than 200” according to a news report. There was no mention of entertainment.
In 1950, for the first time, the annual dinner was opened to the public. For $25, a civilian could get a meal and mingle with some of his favorite fighters. Sugar Ray Robinson was the Edward J. Neil Award winner that year, honored for his ring exploits and for donating his purse from the Charlie Fusari fight to the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund.
There was no formal announcement when the Boxing Writers Association of Greater New York was re-christened the Boxing Writers Association of America, but by the late 1940s reporters were referencing the annual event as simply the boxing writers dinner. By then, it had become traditional to hold the annual affair in January, a practice discontinued after 1971.
The winnowing of New York’s newspaper herd plus competing banquets in other parts of the country forced Nat Fleischer’s baby to adapt. And more adaptations will be necessary in the immediate future as the future of the BWAA, as it currently exists, is threatened by new technologies. If the forthcoming BWAA dinner (April 30 at the Edison Ballroom in mid-Manhattan) were restricted to wordsmiths from the traditional print media, the gathering would be too small to cover the nut and the congregants would be drawn disproportionately from the geriatric class.
Some of those adaptations have already started. Last year, Las Vegas resident Sean Zittel, a recent UNLV graduate, had the distinction of becoming the first videographer welcomed into the BWAA. With more and more people getting their news from sound bites, rather than the written word, the videographer serves an important function.
The reporters who conducted interviews with pen and paper have gone the way of the dodo bird and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. A taped interview for a “talkie” has more integrity than a story culled from a paper and pen interview because it is unfiltered. Many years ago, some reporters, after interviewing the great Joe Louis, put words in his mouth that made him seem like a dullard, words consistent with the Sambo stereotype. In other instances, the language of some athletes was reconstructed to the point where the reader would think the athlete had a second job as an English professor.
The content created by videographers is free from that bias. More of them will inevitably join the BWAA and similar organizations in the future.
Photo: Nat Fleischer is flanked by Sugar Ray Robinson and Tony Zale at the 1947 boxing writers dinner.
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