Incidents In Boxer’s Career.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18380, 4 February 1928, Page 7

Incidents In Boxer’s Career.

Won Lightweight Title, but Found Belt was in Pawnbroker’s Hands.

(Copyright 1927 in all countries by North American Newspaper Alliance'*. Tommy Ryan and I never engaged in a real fight, partly because we were warm personal friends, and partly because I realised that Ryan, when he was in condition, was too big for me But Ryan and I often put on the gloves and went at it with plenty of vigour. T met Tommy in a four-round exhibition in Grand Central Palace, New Vork. in 1895. It was a benefit performance for me. I boxed Harry \\ oods. of San Francisco, three rounds, just before going on with Ryan. The welter champion tried to make a showing against me, but for all his cleverness I kept him busy. Sam Fitzpatrick was referee. T told him I was going right in after Ryan, and when I was making it too hot for Tommy to call time. In our dressing room after the bout, Ryan said, “Kid, you are getting to be a much better boxer than you used to be.” A short time later a benefit was given for Tommy in his home town. Syracuse, N.Y„ and at his request. I went there and boxed him again. Ryan was then matched to fight “Kid” M'Coy at New York two weeks latex*. The Crafty M’Coy. Ryan could fight at 142 pounds in those days, but M’Coy had craftily insisted on the weight being 156. He knew Ryan was fat and out of condition, and he didn’t want Tommy working to take off weight. Tommy then weighed 1541b5. He was in no shape at- all. lie had a saloon in Syracuse. “Don't you think you'd better postpone your fight with M’Coy until you get into condition?” I asked Ryan. “Why in hell should I be in condition to fight M’Coy?” he replied. I said: “Well. I think you’d better be in shape. You've got legs like an old woman. M’Coy is fast and he will cut you to pieces the way you are.” But this only made Ryan sore. “Kid” M’Coy had been sparring partner for Ryan when Tommy trained at Detroit for his fight with Jack Dempsey at. New Orleans. They work ed out together day after da}* in the gymnasium of the Detroit Athletic Club. Ryan was mean, and made life miserable for his sparring mate. Many times I heard M’Coy squawk. “Don’t be so rough.” when Ryan was slamming them into him. Naturally Tommy was cocky. He would say to me. “T wonder if that long geezer really thinks he has a chance with me? v Why, I’ll just stick this in his face (shooting out a straight left» and I’ll whip this over on his ear (hooking a right* and I’ll make him yell for the police.” Old Friends! What of It? One day Ryan showed me a letter from M’Coy in which the wily kid reminded him that they had alwaj-s been friends, admitted that he didn't have a chance to win. and wondered if Ryan would consent to cut the purse in half. Tommy tore up the letter and never answered it. Again I expressed fear things didn't look right. i heard through Sam Fitzpatrick that M’Coy had been working hard every day at the Manhattan Athletic Club, New York, with big fellows like Steve O’Connell, a heavyweight. “I’m going to see how good I can

fight when I'm fat,” said Ryan, confidently. Well, the tale has often been told bow M’Oov plastered Ryan and finally knocked him out in the fifteenth round. I was one of Tommy’s second?. T never saw a man get such a licking as M’C-o}* gave him. And I never knew a. fighter to be affected as Ryan was after the scrap. He was unable to walk without help. Going down the road long after the crowd had gone home. Charley White on one side and T on the other. Tommy Rj an was like a man in a trance. We came to saloon and White asked me to hold Ryan while he went in to get a beer. I was pretty thirsty myself, and after White had been gone a while, I asked Tommy, “Can you stand alone now'?” “Ye-ah,” he mumbled, like a man drunk. “All I said. “Just wait here until I come back.” I started away, leaving Ryan leaning against fence. I turned back to see how things w.ere going, and he had fallen to the ground. I picked him up and held him until White returned. Then I let Charley do the holding while I went in and got mine. Meats Champion. Tt was not until March, 1896, that I got the light-weight title, although for three years I had been considered the best 133-pound man in the country. That meant, of course, the world. Jack M’Auliffe had been one of the greatest champions, perhaps the greatest, the lightweight division had ever known. He had the speed of a fea-ther-weight and the punch ,of a heavy. But Jack had grown fat and slow. M’Auliffe made a fortune in the ring. At one time he was said to be worth 200,000 dollars. He owned a pool room and a string of racehorses. Dick Burge, the great English welterweight, or light-weight as they classed him over there, came to this country in 1892. and Boston promoters tried to match him and M’Auliffe. A purse of 50.000 dollars, the largest ever bid for a fight up to that time, was offered. Burge was willing to weigh 13S, but M’Auliffe refused to go over 135. For the sake of three pounds, M’Auliffe let a 50.000 dollars purse go by. I hope my friends will not consider me unduly boastful when I say I would have fought John L. Sullivan for 50.000 dollars. M’Auliffe went through his money after that and finally had to put the championship belt in pawn. Jack and I had never fought, but finally ?. match with me was unavoidable. M’Auliffe put on the show at Madison Square Garden, New York, a benefit for himself. Wc went six rounds T had all the better of it, but. Jack showed me enough to prove what a great fighter he had been. The rounds were shortened to save Jack. ; Some of them were; not more than a minute and a half. A supper for M’Auliffe was given shortly after at the Star Theatre Tohn L Sullivan was toastmaster. There M'Auliffe publicly announced he had given me the. light-weight title Privately he confided to me that if T wanted the belt I would have to go up to Harlem and lick a pawnbroker

The next- article will deal with a famous contest at the National Sporting Club, London.