Terry McGovern: The Year of the Butcher – Part Two, The Dixon of Old

Published

2 years ago

March 7, 2023

Terry McGovern: The Year of the Butcher – Part Two, The Dixon of Old

“They used to say,” wrote The Washington Times, some years after McGovern’s retirement, “that Terry started to beat his man before the first gong rang. As he sat in his corner he would glare across the ring at an adversary, his face drawn and scowling.”

This will sound familiar to boxing fans raised on stories of the intimidating qualities of Mike Tyson and before him, Sonny Liston. The ability of the biggest men to unnerve is well known but the ability of the smaller men to menace is rarely as celebrated. The main difference between McGovern and a fighter like Liston or Tyson was not that he was smaller but that he was able to dominate the men that did not fear him. Tyson was found out by deluxe journeymen James “Buster” Douglas, immunised to Tyson’s intimidation by the recent death of his mother; Liston was outmaneuvered by an ego on wheels by the name of Muhammad Ali. But when McGovern first brushed up against a fighter far too good to feel even a sliver of fear, he crushed him utterly, defeating Pedlar Palmer, the bantamweight champion of the world in a little over two minutes in September of 1899. The century ended amidst carnage and savagery as nine overmatched and terrified opponents were dispatched in a total of fifteen rounds. Even the world class Harry Forbes, who would go on to win and defend the bantamweight title, could not extend McGovern beyond two.

But his first opponent for 1900 was not a man who could be intimidated by a look, nor even a thirteen-fight knockout streak. His first opponent for 1900 took heed of the brutality McGovern inflicted upon Palmer and the money he made for doing it and calmly issued a challenge, which McGovern calmly accepted. His first opponent for 1900 was George Dixon, the featherweight champion of the world, arguably the greatest fighter in history up until that point. Dixon feared no man.

He had been competing in title fights across two weights for ten years, and had lost only two of those fights, dropping a narrow decision to the great Frank Erne in 1896, avenged the following year in style against an opponent who by then was weighing in as a lightweight. When he dropped another close decision to former KO victim Solly Smith in 1897 there were respectful murmurs that perhaps the genius had stepped past his best – but little surprise when he rallied to reclaim his title and make a further nine defences.

George Dixon

Those titles, those defences were a part of the Dixon story too. He was the first black man to win a world championship; he was the first Canadian to win a world championship – he was a stylistic trailblazer stiffening overmatched opponents with mobility and technique years before the supposed grandfather of modern boxing, James J Corbett, turned professional. It is reasonable to suggest that Terry McGovern was not qualified to fight him.

And yet, when money began to exchange hands, Terry McGovern was the favourite.

Partly, this was caused by sentiment. Terry McGovern was fighting Irish, the embodiment of the most beloved fighter in history at that point, former heavyweight champion John L Sullivan. Whenever McGovern’s cheerful dialogue with his beloved mother was printed in a newspaper, which in the early days were often, newspapers were sure to stress her first generation immigrant brogue in descriptive print. He was white; Dixon, though enormously respected by the white press and subject to very little of the bizarre speculations about heart or punch resistance in the body that were routinely levelled at other top black fighters, was still a black man, one who had turned professional only twenty years after the end of the American civil war. But there was more than emotion and the casual racism of the day at work – a sense was building that Dixon’s time had passed and that McGovern’s was now.

McGovern trained for a long fight, and once again he did not leave New York, where the fight was to be held, but ensconced himself in Fleetwood, a township just north of the Bronx. His dedication to re-developing his stamina was impressive given his power-punching decimation of the division at large. McGovern knew what he was faced with. It made his eerie confidence more persuasive. Some talked of an over-developed hardness to his body and possible problems making the weight limit, but such rumours had evaporated by the seventh of January, two days before the fight.

Dixon’s camp, situated in Lakewood, New Jersey, seemed equally excellent. “If appearances count for anything,” wrote the Washington Evening Star, “Dixon is the Dixon of old…he thinks well of McGovern but believes he will beat him.”

By the sixth, the odds were lengthening, but for those in attendance it was a mystery as to why. “When McGovern faces Dixon,” reported the St.Louis Republic, “he will meet the greatest fighter ever at the weight. As a ring general Dixon has no equal…[he] is a perfect fighting machine. He never misses a chance to inflict punishment.”

This is an oft-forgotten fact where Dixon is concerned. Because he was deemed by his peers the definitive “scientist” for his era, he is treated by many modern sources as a box-mover who used a famous left to keep his opponents at bay, and his famous footwork to keep himself from the furnace: for those labouring under this impression, please take note – nothing could be further from the truth. He did have that educated stiff left; he did use clever footwork to manipulate befuddled opponents; but Dixon was an aggressive, surging, war-machine, not some pit-a-pat rainy-day spoiler. Yes, at times he employed skill to close opponents down and sew decisions up, but when strategy called for it, he attacked two-handed and showed great prowess in doing so.

McGovern quit serious training two days before the fight, restricting himself mainly to running in order that he might easily make weight. “I don’t know that I ever felt better,” he cheerily informed visitors. “I expect to win a hard fight.”

Dixon hit weight six days before the fight. A reporter asked him how long he felt he could last in the ring with such a prestigious foe. “A full day,” was the answer.

The two men were first able to run the rule over one-another at the weigh in, just after two pm on the ninth of January, the day of the combat. In attendance was Barbados Joe Walcott, and roughhousing between he and Dixon’s manager Tom O’Rourke nearly ended in disaster when a kick aimed at the legendary welterweight instead connected with McGovern’s knee as much to the alarm of Dixon as O’Rourke; McGovern delightedly waved away any sense of impropriety accepting O’Rourke’s assurances of an accident as if the manager had his own best interests at heart rather than Dixon’s. The two fighters walked to the scale almost arm-in-arm; when they measured for height and when McGovern came away half an inch taller he announced “I got you whipped now!” and Dixon leaned back, hands laced, grinning. McGovern stripped naked and stepped up, Dixon after him, more modestly dressed, but both came in under the agreed 118lb limit – no official weights were taken, though Dixon reported that he weighed 116lbs that morning and expected to be 120lbs in the ring that evening; McGovern had measured a half pound heaver at first light.

“Dixon seemed to be in the better condition,” was the report that went out on the wire. “He was full of life and energy and looked as if the making of the weight had not troubled him,” whereas “McGovern seemed to be too finely drawn.”

They separated cordially and just under seven hours later they were in the ring. Staged in the arena of Manhattan’s Broadway Athletic Club, it was the most significant meeting between featherweights to that date, and astonishingly, it almost inarguably remains so today. Both list among the twenty greatest fighters in all of history by my estimation; on only a handful of occasions in all of boxing have two such behemoths clashed.

Broadway Athletic Club

An American, McGovern entered the ring draped in the Irish flag, at his waist an emerald-green silk belt; the Canadian, Dixon, wore an American flag. McGovern crossed the ring and the two shook hands warmly.

Then, at around nine thirty-five in the evening, the bell for the opening round sounded and the warmth departed McGovern’s soul. He crushed Dixon like a bug.

This great champion, this man who liked to boast, if a legend so great can be said to boast, that he had visited the canvas only once in four-hundred fights, would visit it eight times in the next thirty minutes and when he left the ring he would leave the better part of his brilliance at the feet of a fighter now boxing with the apocalyptic savagery of a butcher turned trained killer.

But it was Dixon who opened more aggressively. He “waded in” according to The Brooklyn Eagle, “and was the first to lead, McGovern letting a vicious lead go over his shoulder.” Twice in the opening seconds Dixon tried his left and twice McGovern ditched them and landed body-punches over the kidneys, under the heart, and before the first minute was up, Dixon had given ground and had his back to the ropes. “McGovern crowded in,” reported The New York Tribune, “pounding his right to the ribs.” Dixon’s problem was cradled within a nutshell sealed in those precious moments; his punches, even when they landed, were not enough to deter McGovern’s furious assault upon the body.

“In years gone by,” explained the Eagle, “Dixon never hit any man but once as he hit blows in the spots that he rained upon Terry…last night it was different…his heaviest blows were to no avail against the rugged McGovern.”

Dixon was faced with the disastrous prospect of having to box and move for twenty-five rounds against a 5’4 juggernaut with darkening plans for his internal organs or grit his teeth and try to break him. He chose to try to break him.

Such was Dixon’s brilliance that the beam began to tip; a savage and fast second round was likely in McGovern’s favour, but in the third, as McGovern rattled his ribs and liver, Dixon ripped across a hook to the ear and McGovern peeled away, hurt. Two left jabs and a right hand to the jaw then “staggered Mac” according to the wire report before one-two “almost dropped Mac to the floor.”

At the bell to end the third, the betting at ringside was even for the first time since the fight’s announcement, but this was the nearest Dixon would come to a triumph; by the end of the seventh, no bets on McGovern were being taken.

It was in the fourth that he turned the tide against his prestigious foe, brutalising his body with multiple shots every time Dixon punched. In the fifth McGovern was less destructive but was now boring his way inexorably towards domination, and if Dixon took a share, it was a share of his own ashes.

He began to give way to McGovern in the seventh. His nose was erroneously reported as being broken in several newspapers, but it does appear to have exploded in a geyser of blood at the tip of a McGovern left hand, the canvas and the ropes drenched. Twice in the eighth Dixon slipped in the mess of his own blood and McGovern helped him to his feet, attacking the body, now the blood-sodden face, the body, now the head. The Evening Star describes a fighter beaten in the normal way, “his nose broken and his body covered with bruises…groping blindly in a vain but game effort to once more face his antagonists” but other reports indicate something even more fundamental was happening. Like a dog that has been drinking from a poisoned well, there is a sense of a fighter winding down towards an end. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle described “a worn out fighting machine” that was “working smoothly but not strongly” against some new generation of machine too advanced to be reckoned with.

The lights in Dixon went out with the eighth as he was lashed repeatedly to the canvas by McGovern, who was completely unharmed. After the fourth or fifth knockdown, Dixon flinched, reluctant to stand with McGovern so near. “Don’t worry George,” McGovern assured him with what seemed an entirely genuine smile. “I won’t cop any sneak on you.” True to his word, McGovern permitted Dixon to stand unmolested. Then he beat the art out of the greatest fistic artist of his era. They threw in the sponge at the very end of the eighth round; Dixon never recovered.

Terry McGovern was now the bantamweight and the featherweight champion of the world. He was twenty years old.

The following month, an article appeared in the St. Paul Globe criticising McGovern’s management.

“Terry McGovern may be matched to box …Championship Lightweight Frank Erne in Chicago in the near future. McGovern may make a mistake going out of his class…A defeat at the hands Erne would do the clever little boxer a vast deal of harm. McGovern would do better to stick to his knitting.”

Franke Erne likely considered the ten-thousand dollars McGovern shared with Dixon and hoped he would suffer a rush of blood and make the match. Erne was, after all, the best fighter in the world at the 135lb limit and surely beyond even the heavy-duty machinations of McGovern, who was weighing in at flyweight just three short years before.

Well McGovern would have that rush of blood. And Erne wouldn’t last three rounds.

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Junto Nakatani’s Road to a Mega-fight plus Notes on the Best Boxers from Thailand

Published

13 hours ago

October 10, 2024

Arne K. Lang

Junto Nakatani’s Road to a Mega-fight plus Notes on the Best Boxers from Thailand

WBC bantamweight champion Junto Nakatani, whose name now appears on several of the Top 10 pound-for-pound lists, returns to the ring on Monday. His title defense against Thailand’s Petch CP Freshmart is the grand finale of a two-day boxing festival at Tokyo’s Ariake Arena.

One of several Thai boxers sponsored by Fresh Mart, a national grocery chain, Petch, 30, was born Tasana Salapat or Thasana Saraphath, depending on the source, and is sometimes identified as Petch Sor Chitpattana (confusing, huh?) A pro since 2011, he brings a record of 76-1 with 53 TKOs.

In boxing, records are often misleading and that is especially true when referencing boxers from Thailand. And so, although Petch has record that jumps off the page, we really don’t know how good he is. Is he world class, or is he run-of-the-mill?

A closer look at his record reveals that only 20 of his wins came against opponents with winning records. Fifteen of his victims were making their pro debut. It is revealing that his lone defeat came in his lone fight outside Thailand. In December of 2018, he fought Takuma Inoue in Tokyo and lost a unanimous decision. Inoue, who was appearing in his thirteenth pro fight, won the 12-rounder by scores of 117-111 across the board.

A boxer doesn’t win 76 fights in a career in which he answers the bell for 407 rounds without being able to fight more than a little, but there’s a reason why the house fighter, Nakatani (28-0, 21 KOs) is favored by odds as high as 50/1 in the bookmaking universe. Petch may force Junto to go the distance, but even that is a longshot.

Boxers from Thailand

Four fighters from Thailand, all of whom were active in the 1990s, are listed on the 42-name Hall of Fame ballot that arrived in the mail this week. They are Sot Chitalada, Ratanopol Sor Varapin, Veeraphol Sahaprom, and Pongsaklek Wonjongham. On a year when the great Manny Pacquiao is on the ballot, leaving one less slot for the remainder, the likelihood that any of the four will turn up on the dais in Canastota at the 2025 induction ceremony is slim.

By our reckoning, two active Thai fighters have a strong chance of making it someday. The first is Srisaket Sor Rungvisai who knocked Roman “Chocolatito” Gonzalez from his perch at the top of the pound-for-pound rankings in one of the biggest upsets in recent memory and then destroyed him in the rematch. The noted boxing historian Matt McGrain named Sor Rungvisai (aka Wisaksil Wangek) the top super flyweight of the decade 2010-2019.

The other is Knockout CP Freshmart (aka Thammanoon Niyomstrom). True, he’s getting a bit long in the tooth for a fighter in boxing’s smallest weight class (he’s 34), but the long-reigning strawweight champion, who has never fought a match scheduled for fewer than 10 rounds, has won all 25 of his pro fights and shows no signs of slowing down. He will be back in action next month opposing Puerto Rico-born Oscar Collazo in Riyadh.

The next Thai fighter to go into the IBHOF (and it may not happen in my lifetime) will bring the number to three. Khaosai Galaxy entered the Hall with the class of 1999 and Pone Kingpetch was inducted posthumously in 2023 in the Old Timer’s category.

Nakatani (pictured)

Hailing from the southeastern Japanese city of Inabe, Junto Nakatani is the real deal. In 2023, the five-foot-eight southpaw forged the TSS Knockout of the Year at the expense of Andrew Moloney. Late in the 12^th round, he landed a short left hook to the chin and the poor Aussie was unconscious before he hit the mat. In his last outing, on July 20, he went downstairs to dismiss his opponent, taking out Vincent Astrolabio with a short left to the pit of the stomach. Astrolabio went down, writhing in pain, and was unable to continue. It was all over at the 2:37 mark of the opening round.

It’s easy to see where Nakatani is headed after he takes care of business on Monday.

Currently, Japanese boxers own all four meaningful pieces of the 118-pound puzzle. Of the four, the most recognizable name other than Nakatani is that of Takuma Inoue who will be making the third defense of his WBA strap on Sunday, roughly 24 hours before Nakatani touches gloves with Petch in the very same ring. Inoue is a consensus 7/2 favorite over countryman Seiga Tsatsumi.

A unification fight between Nakatani and Takuma Inoue (20-1, 5 KOs) would be a natural. But this match, should it transpire, would be in the nature of an appetizer. A division above sits Takuma’s older brother Naoya Inoue who owns all four belts in the 122-pound weight class but, of greater relevance, is widely regarded the top pound-for-pound fighter in the world.

A match between Junto Nakatani and the baby-faced “Monster” would be a delicious pairing and the powers-that-be want it to happen.

In boxing, the best-laid plans often go awry, but there’s a good possibility that we will see Nakatani vs. Naoya Inoue in 2025. If so, that would be the grandest domestic showdown in Japanese boxing history.

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Bygone Days: Muhammad Ali at the Piano in the Lounge at the Tropicana

Published

3 days ago

October 7, 2024

Arne K. Lang

Bygone Days: Muhammad Ali at the Piano in the Lounge at the Tropicana

Among other things, Las Vegas in “olden days” was noted for its lounge shows. Circa 1970, for the price of two drinks, one could have caught the Ike and Tina Turner Review at the International. They performed three shows nightly, the last at 3:15 am, and they blew the doors off the joint.

The weirdest “lounge show” in Las Vegas wasn’t a late-night offering, but an impromptu duet performed in the mid-afternoon for a select standing-room audience in the lounge at the Tropicana. Sharing the piano in the Blue Room in a concert that could not have lasted much more than a minute were Muhammad Ali and world light heavyweight champion Bob Foster. The date was June 25, 1972, a Sunday.

What brought about this odd collaboration was a weigh-in, not the official weigh-in, which would happen the next day, but a dress rehearsal conducted for the benefit of news reporters and photographers and a few invited guests such as the actor Jack Palance who would serve as the color commentator alongside the legendary Mel Allen on the closed-circuit telecast. On June 27, Ali and Foster would appear in separate bouts at the Las Vegas Convention Center. Ali was pit against Jerry Quarry in a rematch of their 1970 tilt in Atlanta; Foster would be defending his title against Jerry’s younger brother, Mike Quarry.

In those days, whenever Las Vegas hosted a prizefight that was a major news story, it was customary for the contestants to arrive in town about three weeks before their fight. They held public workouts, perhaps for a nominal fee, at the hotel-casino where they were lodged.

Muhammad Ali and Bob Foster were sequestered and trained at Caesars Palace. The Quarry brothers were domiciled a few blocks away at the Tropicana.

The Trop, as the locals called it, was the last major hotel-casino on the south end of the Strip, a stretch of road, officially Highway 91, the ran for 2.2 miles. When the resort opened in 1957, it had three hundred rooms. Like similar properties along the famous Strip, it would eventually go vertical, maturing into a high-rise.

In 1959, entertainment director Lou Walters (father of Barbara) imported a lavish musical revue from Paris, the Folies Bergere. The extravaganza with its topless showgirls became embedded in the Las Vegas mystique. The show, which gave the Tropicana its identity, ran for almost 50 full years, becoming the longest-running show in Las Vegas history.

—

Although the Quarry brothers were on the premises, Ali and Foster arrived at the Blue Room first. After Dr. Donald Romeo performed his perfunctory examinations, there was nothing to do but stand around and wait for the brothers to show up. It was then that Foster spied a grand piano in the corner of the room.

Taking a seat at the bench, he tinkled the keys, producing something soft and bluesy. “Move over man,” said Ali, not the sort of person to be upstaged at anything. Taking a seat alongside Foster at the piano, he banged out something that struck the untrained ear of veteran New York scribe Dick Young as boogie-woogie.

When the Quarry brothers arrived, Ali went through his usual antics, shouting epithets at Jerry Quarry as Jerry was having his blood pressure taken. “These make the best fights, when you get some white hopes and some spooks,…er, I mean some colored folks,” Young quoted Ali as saying.

This comment was greeted with a big laugh, but Jerry Quarry, renowned for his fearsome left hook, delivered a better line after Ali had stormed out. Surveying the room, he noticed several attractive young ladies, dressed provocatively. “I can see I ain’t the only hooker in here,” he said.

—

The doubleheader needed good advance pub because both bouts were considered mismatches. In the first Ali-Quarry fight, Quarry suffered a terrible gash above his left eye before his corner pulled him out after three rounds. Ali was a 5/1 favorite in the rematch. Bob Foster, who would be making his tenth title defense, was an 8/1 favorite over Mike Quarry who was undefeated (35-0) but had been brought along very carefully and was still only 21 years old. (In his syndicated newspaper column, oddsmaker Jimmy “The Greek” Snyder said the odds were 200/1 against both fights going the distance, but there wasn’t a bookie in the country that would take that bet.)

The Fights

There were no surprises. It was a sad night for the Quarry clan at the Las Vegas Convention Center.

Muhammad Ali, clowning in the early rounds, took charge in the fifth and Jerry Quarry was in bad shape when the referee waived it off 19 seconds into the seventh round. In the semi-wind-up, Bob Foster retained his title in a more brutal fashion. He knocked the younger Quarry brother into dreamland with a thunderous left hook just as the fourth round was about to end. Mike Quarry lay on the canvas for a good three minutes before his handlers were able to revive him.

—

In the ensuing years, the Tropicana was far less invested in boxing than many of its rivals on the Strip, but there was a wisp of activity in the mid-1980s. A noteworthy card, on June 30, 1985, saw Jimmy Paul successfully defend his world lightweight title with a 14^th-round stoppage of Robin Blake. Freddie Roach, a featherweight with a big local following and former U.S. Olympic gold medalist Henry Tillman appeared on the undercard. The lead promoter of this show, which aired on a Sunday afternoon on CBS (with Southern Nevada blacked out) was the indefatigable Bob Arum who seemingly has no intention of leaving this mortal coil until he has out-lived every Las Vegas casino-resort born in the twentieth century.

—

I may drive past the Tropicana in the next few hours and give it a last look, mindful that Muhammad Ali once frolicked here, however briefly. But I won’t be there for the implosion.

On Wednesday morning, Oct. 9, shortly after 2 a.m., the Tropicana, shuttered since April, will be reduced to rubble. On its grounds will rise a stadium for the soon-to-be-former Oakland A’s baseball team.

A recognized authority on the history of prizefighting and the history of American sports gambling, TSS editor-in-chief Arne K. Lang is the author of five books including “Prizefighting: An American History,” released by McFarland in 2008 and re-released in a paperback edition in 2020.

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WBA Feather Champ Nick Ball Chops Down Rugged Ronny Rios in Liverpool

Published

5 days ago

October 5, 2024

Arne K. Lang

WBA-Feather-Champ-Nick-Ball-Chops-Down-Rugged-Ronny-Rios-in-Liverpool

In his first fight in his native Liverpool since February of 2020, Nick Ball successfully defended his WBA title with a 10^th-round stoppage of SoCal veteran Ronny Rios. The five-foot-two “Wrecking Ball” was making the first defense of a world featherweight strap he won in his second stab at it, taking the belt from Raymond Ford on a split decision after previously fighting Rey Vargas to a draw in a match that many thought Ball had won.

This fight looked like it was going to be over early. Ball strafed Rios with an assortment of punches in the first two rounds, and likely came within a punch or two of ending the match in the third when he put Rios on the canvas with a short left hook and then tore after him relentlessly. But Rios, a glutton for punishment, weathered the storm and actually had some good moments in round four and five.

The brother of welterweight contender Alexis Rocha and a two-time world title challenger at 122 pounds, Rios returned to the ring in April on a ProBox card in Florida and this was his second start after being out of the ring for 28 months. He would be on the canvas twice more before the bout was halted. The punch that knocked him off his pins in round seven wasn’t a clean shot, but he would be in dire straits three rounds later when he was hammered onto the ring apron with a barrage of punches. He managed to maneuver his way back into the ring, but his corner sensibly threw in the towel when it seemed as if referee Bob Williams would let the match continue.

The official time was 2:06 of round ten. Ball improved to 21-0-1 (12 KOs). Rios, 34, declined to 34-5.

Semi-wind-up

A bout contested for a multiplicity of regional 140-pound titles produced a mild upset when Jack Rafferty wore down and eventually stopped Henry Turner whose corner pulled him out after the ninth frame.

Both fighters were undefeated coming in. Turner, now 13-1, was the better boxer and had the best of the early rounds. However, he used up a lot of energy moving side-to-side as he fought off his back foot, and Rafferty, who improved to 24-0 (15 KOs), never wavered as he continued to press forward.

The tide turned dramatically in round eight. One could see Turner’s legs getting loggy and the confidence draining from his face. The ninth round was all Rafferty. Turner was a cooked goose when Rafferty collapsed him with four unanswered body punches, but he made it to the final bell before his corner wisely pulled him out. Through the completed rounds, two of the judges had it even and the third had the vanquished Turner up by 4 points.

Other Bouts of Note

In a lightweight affair, Jadier Herrera, a highly-touted 22-year-old Cuban who had been campaigning in Dubai, advanced to 16-0 (14 KOs) with a third-round stoppage of Oliver Flores (31-6-2) a Nicaraguan southpaw making his UK debut. After two even rounds, Herrera put Flores on the deck with a left to the solar plexus. Flores spit out his mouthpiece as he lay there in obvious distress and referee Steve Gray waived the fight off as he was attempting to rise. The end came 30 seconds into round three.

In a bantamweight contest slated for 10, Liverpool’s Andrew Cain (13-1, 12 KOs) dismissed Colombia’s Lazaro Casseres at the 1:48 mark of the second round.

A stablemate and sparring partner of Nick Ball, Cain knocked Casseres to the canvas in the second round with a short uppercut and forced the stoppage later in the round when he knocked the Colombian into the ropes with a double left hook. Casseres. 27, brought an 11-1 record but had defeated only two opponents with winning records.

In a contest between super welterweights, Walter Fury pitched a 4-round shutout over Dale Arrowsmith. This was the second pro fight for the 27-year-old Fury who had his famous cousin Tyson Fury rooting him on from ringside. Stylistically, Walter resembles Tyson, but his defense is hardly as tight; he was clipped a few times.

Arrowsmith is a weekend warrior and a professional loser, a species indigenous to the British Isles. This was his twenty-fourth fight this year and his 186^th pro fight overall! His record is “illuminated” by nine wins and 10 draws.

A Queensberry Promotion, the Ball vs Rios card aired in the UK on TNT Sports and in the US on ESPN+.

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