How Good Was Ill-Fated Luther McCarty, the Best of the ‘White Hopes’?

Published

2 years ago

May 13, 2023

How-Good-Was-Ill-Fated-Lither-McCarty-The-Best-of-the-White-Hopes

Luther McCarty “is the embodiment of all that goes to make a ring champion, the possessor of speed, hitting ability, an aptitude for learning the finer points of the fistic sport and the gamest man to ever lace on a glove.” So read a widely circulated newspaper story that made the rounds in June of 1912.

The author of this puff piece (it bore no byline) was undoubtedly a reporter on the take. In this era, the sports sections of newspapers were full of stories that blurred the distinction between honest reporting and hyperbole. That being said, there was a growing sentiment among the cognoscenti that Luther McCarty had the best chance of all the Caucasian heavyweights of knocking Jack Johnson off his pedestal. Johnson’s title reign was then in its fourth year.

Eleven months after the story ran, it became a moot point. On May 24, 1913, 110 years ago this month, Luther McCarty dropped dead in the opening round of a fight with Arthur Pelkey in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. The decedent was only 21 years old.

If stories about McCarty are true, he packed a lot of living into his short time on this earth. Before finding his niche as a prizefighter, McCarty — who in old photos bears an uncanny resemblance to the renowned University of Nebraska football coach Tom Osborne when both were of the same age — was at various times a seaman, a lumberjack, a coal miner, a cowboy, and a stunt-rider whose act was sponsored by a tobacco company.

McCarty was born in Nebraska, near Lincoln according to some sources and near McCook according to others (the towns are 225 miles apart). He spent a good portion of his youth in Clay Center, Kansas, and had his first documented fight in Culbertson, Montana, a ranching community. When he became a well-known sports personality, both Sidney, Ohio, and Springfield, Missouri claimed him.

McCarty’s father was literally, not figuratively, a snake oil salesman. Billing himself as Dr. White Eagles, he roamed the Midwest in a gaily covered wagon from which he sold snake oil, touted as a cure for all ills. His wife, who traveled with him, reportedly died from a rattlesnake bite in about 1910 while staying in a hotel in Peoria, Illinois. The snake, a prop, escaped from its box which was kept in their room. (Mrs. White Eagles was presumably McCarty’s step-mother. One of the first stories about him said that his mother was an Irish immigrant who died when Luther was a mere toddler as she was giving birth to a stillborn child.)

It was in Springfield, the Queen City of the Ozarks, where McCarty came to the fore. His conquest of Oklahoma railroad engineer Carl Morris on May 3, 2012, was a national news story. Carrying 235 pounds on his six-foot-four frame, Morris, the “Sapulpa Giant,” was two inches taller and 20 pounds heavier than McCarty who knocked him out in the sixth frame.

McCarty spent the next five months campaigning back east with mixed results. Veteran slugger Jim Stewart spoiled his New York debut, winning a 10-round newspaper decision at Madison Square Garden.

The opposite coast proved far more salubrious. McCarty’s push to regain lost luster began on Oct. 12, 2012, in San Francisco with a smashing second-round knockout of Al Kaufman. Two months later, on Dec. 10, he was in Vernon, California (a town in Los Angeles County), looking across the ring at Fireman Jim Flynn.

This fight was framed as an “eliminator” with the winner going on to fight Al Palzer for the White Heavyweight Championship of the World.

Jim Flynn, called Fireman Jim because he had worked on steam-powered locomotives shoveling coal into a furnace, was a battle-tested veteran. Six years earlier, he had given Tommy Burns a tough tussle in a failed bid for Burns’ world heavyweight title. Burns stopped him in the 15^th-round. More recently, he had challenged Jack Johnson, losing by disqualification in the first and ultimately only heavyweight title fight ever staged in New Mexico.

The late money was on Fireman Jim who went to post a small favorite. Those that bet against McCarty had egg in their face when the referee halted the massacre in the 16^th round. Flynn “was beaten to an almost unrecognizable mass,” wrote a ringside reporter. “His face was puffed until it was almost unrecognizable and his eyes were swollen shut. His seconds had to assist him from the ring, while McCarty walked out fresh as a daisy.”

Al Palzer, an Iowa farm boy, had been fighting for only two years, but he was a strapping lad, carrying 227 pounds on a six-foot-four frame, and, in the vernacular of a gambling man, he came from a good barn. His manager, Tom O’Rourke, had built George Dixon from scratch into a fighter still recognized in many quarters today as the greatest bantamweight of all time.

Al Palzer’s signature win had come against the highly-touted British import Bombardier Billy Wells, the heavyweight champion of England. Knocked groggy in the first two rounds, Palzer got off the deck to stop the Bombardier in the third frame.

Once again McCarty entered the ring a slight underdog and, once again, he made a mockery of the odds. Palzer rarely took a backward step but was repeatedly beaten to the punch. The referee halted the mismatch in the 18^th round, whereupon Palzer “reeled drunkenly to his corner and cried like a child.”

Palzer

In those days, the best measure of a mega-fight was the number of telegraphers at ringside. There were plenty that afternoon at promoter Tom McCarey’s arena in Vernon; round-by-round reports were flashed to newspaper offices and poolrooms around the country. In faraway Pittsburgh, where the New Years Day fight started at 6 pm local time, the Pittsburgh Press (“The People’s Paper”) hired a megaphone man to read the round-by-round bulletins to the crowd standing outside in the cold. Other newspapers did likewise.

mccarty cartoon 1

McCarty had two more fights before his ill-fated bout with Arthur Pelkey, winning newspaper decisions over Fireman Jim Flynn and Frank Moran, in Philadelphia and New York respectively. Then it was on to Calgary to defend his belt against journeyman Pelkey in a bout staged in a 7,000-seat wooden arena built by Tommy Burns who had taken up residence in Calgary as his career was winding down.

The bout was barely 90 seconds old when Pelkey hit McCarty with a blow that landed just above the heart and McCarty collapsed to the canvas. It was a pedestrian punch – a straight jab in a feeling-out round – but Luther McCarty had drawn his last breath. The general feeling was that the punch had aggravated an old neck injury that McCarty had suffered when he fell off a horse, a reckoning that absolved the principals of manslaughter. “The same thing might have happened to anyone walking down the street or eating dinner,” said Tommy Burns.

It was an earie scene made more haunting in memory by interconnected events.

Before the opening bell, the pastor of Calgary’s St. Augustine’s Anglican church was brought into the ring to say a few words. “He told [the combatants] not to forget in their chase of fame that they had a creator and to prepare to meet him.” As McCarty lay prone on the canvas before the stupefied gathering, a ghostly ray of sunlight came through an opening in the structure and shrouded McCarty’s lifeless body. Adding to Tommy Burns’ anguish, on the night of May 25, the day after the fight, a fire of uncertain origin burned his arena to the ground.

An era usually lasts generations and doesn’t come into focus until a considerable amount of time has elapsed. Interestingly, boxing writers were using the phrase White Hope Era when the “era” was just getting started and it was a short-lived phase that effectively ended in Arthur Pelkey’s next fight when he was knocked out by journeyman Gunboat Smith. Pelkey’s vaunted punch, wrote a reporter, was merely a suspicion.

(True, Jess Willard was dubbed a White Hope, but by 1915, when he de-throned Jack Johnson, he wasn’t tagged as such by the promoters as the label had become a term of derision. A little-known fact is that there were a number of so-called White Hope Tournaments during the late 1930s in the U.S. and Canada, but these promotions, conventionally restricted to men with no prior boxing experience — men off the street, but some ringers always slipped in — were tournaments in name only. Precursors of the “Tough Man” competitions popular in the 1980s and 1990s, they died out when Joe Louis came to be widely admired for more than just his fistic prowess.)

Newspaper reports leave the impression that Luther McCarty was a bigamist. Several days after he died it was reported that his widow, who he met in Ohio, was working in a hash house in Fargo, North Dakota. However, his inheritance went to another woman, a lady in Springfield, Missouri, with whom he had a young daughter. And whatever his faults, it appears that Luther, despite his tender age, was no fool with his money. His estate included $8,200 (roughly $250,000 in today’s dollars) on deposit in a Los Angeles bank and four oceanfront lots on a beach near Boston.

Now let’s cut to the chase and address the question we asked in the title of this article: How good was Luther McCarty, by which we mean how would he have fared if thrust against a prime Jack Johnson?

I think the answer is plain. He would have been in way over his head.

It goes without saying that Johnson was more fluid, but he also packed a harder punch. McCarty tattooed Fireman Jim Flynn and Al Palzer with every punch in his repertoire round after round after round, but both men were still standing when the bouts were terminated. Also, “strength of schedule” counts for something and McCarty’s fellow White Hopes were a motley lot. The craze to find someone to upend Johnson flooded the sport with lumbering mediocrities whose exertions would have been better deployed doing chores around the farm or unloading freight.

To call Luther McCarty a cut above the others, no matter how true, is damning him with faint praise. He was, however, a colorful character in one of the most interesting phases in American boxing history.

Arne K. Lang’s third boxing book, titled “George Dixon, Terry McGovern and the Culture of Boxing in America, 1890-1910,” rolled off the press in September. Published by McFarland, the book can be ordered directly from the publisher or via Amazon.

To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Post Views: 0

Share The Sweet Science experience!

Arne K. Lang

Up Next

Alimkhanuly Destroys Butler and Jason Moloney Outpoints Astrolabio in Stockton

Don't Miss

Avila Perspective, Chap. 236: Jaime Munguia and More

“Breadman” Edwards: An Unlikely Boxing Coach with a Panoramic View of the Sport

Published

6 hours ago

May 8, 2025

Arne K. Lang

Stephen-Breadman-Edwards-An-Unlikely-Boxing-Coach-with-a-Panoramic-View-of-the-Sport

Stephen “Breadman” Edwards’ first fighter won a world title. That may be some sort of record.

It’s true. Edwards had never trained a fighter, amateur or pro, before taking on professional novice Julian “J Rock” Williams. On May 11, 2019, Williams wrested the IBF 154-pound world title from Jarrett Hurd. The bout, a lusty skirmish, was in Fairfax, Virginia, near Hurd’s hometown in Maryland, and the previously undefeated Hurd had the crowd in his corner.

In boxing, Stephen Edwards wears two hats. He has a growing reputation as a boxing coach, a hat he will wear on Saturday, May 31, at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas when the two fighters that he currently trains, super middleweight Caleb Plant and middleweight Kyrone Davis, display their wares on a show that will air on Amazon Prime Video. Plant, who needs no introduction, figures to have little trouble with his foe in a match conceived as an appetizer to a showdown with Jermall Charlo. Davis, coming off his career-best win, an upset of previously undefeated Elijah Garcia, is in tough against fast-rising Cuban prospect Yoenli Hernandez, a former world amateur champion.

Edwards’ other hat is that of a journalist. His byline appears at “Boxing Scene” in a column where he answers questions from readers.

It’s an eclectic bag of questions that Breadman addresses, ranging from his thoughts on an upcoming fight to his thoughts on one of the legendary prizefighters of olden days. Boxing fans, more so than fans of any other sport, enjoy hashing over fantasy fights between great fighters of different eras. Breadman is very good at this, which isn’t to suggest that his opinions are gospel, merely that he always has something provocative to add to the discourse. Like all good historians, he recognizes that the best history is revisionist history.

“Fighters are constantly mislabled,” he says. “Everyone talks about Joe Louis’s right hand. But if you study him you see that his left hook is every bit as good as his right hand and it’s more sneaky in terms of shock value when it lands.”

Stephen “Breadman” Edwards was born and raised in Philadelphia. His father died when he was three. His maternal grandfather, a Korean War veteran, filled the void. The man was a big boxing fan and the two would watch the fights together on the family television.

Edwards’ nickname dates to his early teen years when he was one of the best basketball players in his neighborhood. The derivation is the 1975 movie “Cornbread, Earl and Me,” starring Laurence Fishburne in his big screen debut. Future NBA All-Star Jamaal Wilkes, fresh out of UCLA, plays Cornbread, a standout high school basketball player who is mistakenly murdered by the police.

Coming out of high school, Breadman had to choose between an academic scholarship at Temple or an athletic scholarship at nearby Lincoln University. He chose the former, intending to major in criminal justice, but didn’t stay in college long. What followed were a succession of jobs including a stint as a city bus driver. To stay fit, he took to working out at the James Shuler Memorial Gym where he sparred with some of the regulars, but he never boxed competitively.

Over the years, Philadelphia has harbored some great boxing coaches. Among those of recent vintage, the names George Benton, Bouie Fisher, Nazeem Richardson, and Bozy Ennis come quickly to mind. Breadman names Richardson and West Coast trainer Virgil Hunter as the men that have influenced him the most.

We are all a product of our times, so it’s no surprise that the best decade of boxing, in Breadman’s estimation, was the 1980s. This was the era of the “Four Kings” with Sugar Ray Leonard arguably standing tallest.

Breadman was a big fan of Leonard and of Leonard’s three-time rival Roberto Duran. “I once purchased a DVD that had all of Roberto Duran’s title defenses on it,” says Edwards. “This was a back before the days of YouTube.”

But Edwards’ interest in the sport goes back much deeper than the 1980s. He recently weighed in on the “Pittsburgh Windmill” Harry Greb whose legend has grown in recent years to the point that some have come to place him above Sugar Ray Robinson on the list of the greatest of all time.

“Greb was a great fighter with a terrific resume, of that there is no doubt,” says Breadman, “but there is no video of him and no one alive ever saw him fight, so where does this train of thought come from?”

Edwards notes that in Harry Greb’s heyday, he wasn’t talked about in the papers as the best pound-for-pound fighter in the sport. The boxing writers were partial to Benny Leonard who drew comparisons to the venerated Joe Gans.

Among active fighters, Breadman reserves his highest praise for Terence Crawford. “Body punching is a lost art,” he once wrote. “[Crawford] is a great body puncher who starts his knockouts with body punches, but those punches are so subtle they are not fully appreciated.”

If the opening line holds up, Crawford will enter the ring as the underdog when he opposes Canelo Alvarez in September. Crawford, who will enter the ring a few weeks shy of his 38^th birthday, is actually the older fighter, older than Canelo by almost three full years (it doesn’t seem that way since the Mexican redhead has been in the public eye so much longer), and will theoretically be rusty as 13 months will have elapsed since his most recent fight.

Breadman discounts those variables. “Terence is older,” he says, “but has less wear and tear and never looks rusty after a long layoff.” That Crawford will win he has no doubt, an opinion he tweaked after Canelo’s performance against William Scull: “Canelo’s legs are not the same. Bud may even stop him now.”

Edwards has been with Caleb Plant for Plant’s last three fights. Their first collaboration produced a Knockout of the Year candidate. With one ferocious left hook, Plant sent Anthony Dirrell to dreamland. What followed were a 12-round setback to David Benavidez and a ninth-round stoppage of Trevor McCumby.

Breadman keeps a hectic schedule. From Monday through Friday, he’s at the DLX Gym in Las Vegas coaching Caleb Plant and Kyrone Davis. On weekends, he’s back in Philadelphia, checking in on his investment properties and, of greater importance, watching his kids play sports. His 14-year-old daughter and 12-year-old son are standout all-around athletes.

On those long flights, he has plenty of time to turn on his laptop and stream old fights or perhaps work on his next article. That’s assuming he can stay awake.

To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Post Views: 0

Share The Sweet Science experience!

Arne’s Almanac: The Good, the Bad, and the (Mostly) Ugly; a Weekend Boxing Recap and More

Published

2 days ago

May 6, 2025

Arne K. Lang

Arne's-Almanac-The-Good-the-Bad-and-the-(mostly)-Ugly-A-Weeend-Boxing-Recap-and-More

Arne’s Almanac: The Good, the Bad, and the (Mostly) Ugly; a Weekend Boxing Recap and More

It’s old news now, but on back-to-back nights on the first weekend of May, there were three fights that finished in the top six snoozefests ever as measured by punch activity. That’s according to CompuBox which has been around for 40 years.

In Times Square, the boxing match between Devin Haney and Jose Carlos Ramirez had the fifth-fewest number of punches thrown, but the main event, Ryan Garcia vs. Rolly Romero, was even more of a snoozefest, landing in third place on this ignoble list.

Those standings would be revised the next night – knocked down a peg when Canelo Alvarez and William Scull combined to throw a historically low 445 punches in their match in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, 152 by the victorious Canelo who at least pressed the action, unlike Scull (pictured) whose effort reminded this reporter of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” – no, not the movie starring Paul Newman, just the title.

CompuBox numbers, it says here, are best understood as approximations, but no amount of rejiggering can alter the fact that these three fights were stinkers. Making matters worse, these were pay-per-views. If one had bundled the two events, rather than buying each separately, one would have been out $90 bucks.

****

Thankfully, the Sunday card on ESPN from Las Vegas was redemptive. It was just what the sport needed at this moment – entertaining fights to expunge some of the bad odor. In the main go, Naoya Inoue showed why he trails only Shohei Ohtani as the most revered athlete in Japan.

Throughout history, the baby-faced assassin has been a boxing promoter’s dream. It’s no coincidence that down through the ages the most common nickname for a fighter – and by an overwhelming margin — is “Kid.”

And that partly explains Naoya Inoue’s charisma. The guy is 32 years old, but here in America he could pass for 17.

Joey Archer

Joey Archer, who passed away last week at age 87 in Rensselaer, New York, was one of the last links to an era of boxing identified with the nationally televised Friday Night Fights at Madison Square Garden.

Joey Archer

Archer made his debut as an MSG headliner on Feb. 4, 1961, and had 12 more fights at the iconic mid-Manhattan sock palace over the next six years. The final two were world title fights with defending middleweight champion Emile Griffith.

Archer etched his name in the history books in November of 1965 in Pittsburgh where he won a comfortable 10-round decision over Sugar Ray Robinson, sending the greatest fighter of all time into retirement. (At age 45, Robinson was then far past his peak.)

Born and raised in the Bronx, Joey Archer was a cutie; a clever counter-puncher recognized for his defense and ultimately for his granite chin. His style was embedded in his DNA and reinforced by his mentors.

Early in his career, Archer was domiciled in Houston where he was handled by veteran trainer Bill Gore who was then working with world lightweight champion Joe Brown. Gore would ride into the Hall of Fame on the coattails of his most famous fighter, “Will-o’-the Wisp” Willie Pep. If Joey Archer had any thoughts of becoming a banger, Bill Gore would have disabused him of that notion.

In all honesty, Archer’s style would have been box office poison if he had been black. It helped immensely that he was a native New Yorker of Irish stock, albeit the Irish angle didn’t have as much pull as it had several decades earlier. But that observation may not be fair to Archer who was bypassed twice for world title fights after upsetting Hurricane Carter and Dick Tiger.

When he finally caught up with Emile Griffith, the former hat maker wasn’t quite the fighter he had been a few years earlier but Griffith, a two-time Fighter of the Year by The Ring magazine and the BWAA and a future first ballot Hall of Famer, was still a hard nut to crack.

Archer went 30 rounds with Griffith, losing two relatively tight decisions and then, although not quite 30 years old, called it quits. He finished 45-4 with 8 KOs and was reportedly never knocked down, yet alone stopped, while answering the bell for 365 rounds. In retirement, he ran two popular taverns with his older brother Jimmy Archer, a former boxer who was Joey’s trainer and manager late in Joey’s career.

May he rest in peace.

To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Post Views: 0

Share The Sweet Science experience!

Bombs Away in Las Vegas where Inoue and Espinoza Scored Smashing Triumphs

Published

4 days ago

May 4, 2025

David A. Avila

Bombs-Away-in-Las-Vegas-where-Inoue-and-Espinoza-Scored-Smashing-Triumphs

Japan’s Naoya “Monster” Inoue banged it out with Mexico’s Ramon Cardenas, survived an early knockdown and pounded out a stoppage win to retain the undisputed super bantamweight world championship on Sunday.

Japan and Mexico delivered for boxing fans again after American stars failed in back-to-back days.

“By watching tonight’s fight, everyone is well aware that I like to brawl,” Inoue said.

Inoue (30-0, 27 KOs), and Cardenas (26-2, 14 KOs) and his wicked left hook, showed the world and 8,474 fans at T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas that prizefighting is about punching, not running.

After massive exposure for three days of fights that began in New York City, then moved to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia and then to Nevada, it was the casino capital of the world that delivered what most boxing fans appreciate- pure unadulterated action fights.

Monster Inoue immediately went to work as soon as the opening bell rang with a consistent attack on Cardenas, who very few people knew anything about.

One thing promised by Cardenas’ trainer Joel Diaz was that his fighter “can crack.”

Cardenas proved his trainer’s words truthful when he caught Inoue after a short violent exchange with a short left hook and down went the Japanese champion on his back. The crowd was shocked to its toes.

“I was very surprised,” said Inoue about getting dropped. ““In the first round, I felt I had good distance. It got loose in the second round. From then on, I made sure to not take that punch again.”

Inoue had no trouble getting up, but he did have trouble avoiding some of Cardenas massive blows delivered with evil intentions. Though Inoue did not go down again, a look of total astonishment blanketed his face.

A real fight was happening.

Cardenas, who resembles actor Andy Garcia, was never overly aggressive but kept that left hook of his cocked and ready to launch whenever he saw the moment. There were many moments against the hyper-aggressive Inoue.

Both fighters pack power and both looked to find the right moment. But after Inoue was knocked down by the left hook counter, he discovered a way to eliminate that weapon from Cardenas. Still, the Texas-based fighter had a strong right too.

In the sixth round Inoue opened up with one of his lightning combinations responsible for 10 consecutive knockout wins. Cardenas backed against the ropes and Inoue blasted away with blow after blow. Then suddenly, Cardenas turned Inoue around and had him on the ropes as the Mexican fighter unloaded nasty combinations to the body and head. Fans roared their approval.

“I dreamed about fighting in front of thousands of people in Las Vegas,” said Cardenas. “So, I came to give everything.”

Inoue looked a little surprised and had a slight Mona Lisa grin across his face. In the seventh round, the Japanese four-division world champion seemed ready to attack again full force and launched into the round guns blazing. Cardenas tried to catch Inoue again with counter left hooks but Inoue’s combos rained like deadly hail. Four consecutive rights by Inoue blasted Cardenas almost through the ropes. The referee Tom Taylor ruled it a knockdown. Cardenas beat the count and survived the round.

In the eighth round Inoue looked eager to attack and at the bell launched across the ring and unloaded more blows on Cardenas. A barrage of 14 unanswered blows forced the referee to stop the fight at 45 seconds of round eight for a technical knockout win.

“I knew he was tough,” said Inoue. “Boxing is not that easy.”

Espinoza Wins

WBO featherweight titlist Rafael Espinosa (27-0, 23 KOs) uppercut his way to a knockout win over Edward Vazquez (17-3, 4 KOs) in the seventh round.

“I wanted to fight a game fighter to show what I am capable,” said Espinoza.

Espinosa used the leverage of his six-foot, one-inch height to slice uppercuts under the guard of Vazquez. And when the tall Mexican from Guadalajara targeted the body, it was then that the Texas fighter began to wilt. But he never surrendered.

Though he connected against Espinoza in every round, he was not able to slow down the taller fighter and that allowed the Mexican fighter to unleash a 10-punch barrage including four consecutive uppercuts. The referee stopped the fight at 1:47 of the seventh round.

It was Espinoza’s third title defense.

Photo credit: Mikey Williams / Top Rank

To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Post Views: 0

Share The Sweet Science experience!