For Hagler to take Hearns bombs like that and not even go down once just shows you how tough Hagler was. Hearns was a real freak of nature, extremely tall with long arms, his height and reach gave him an advantage when he punched, it allowed him to generate even more power behind his shots. He was one of the hardest punchers in boxing history, just look at the way he took out Roberto Duran, Duran had one of the greatest chins ever and no one had ever done anything like that to Duran, when it happened it was shocking.
Tommy Hearns really didn't like the nickname "hitman" at first, he said it reminded people of mobsters, but the nickname stuck because of his knockout power and he embraced it.
Anyway, getting back to Hagler vs Hearns, Tommy Hearns actually wanted a rematch with Hagler, a Hagler vs Hearns 2, but Sugar Ray Leonard spoiled those plans by coming out of retirement and calling Hagler out, and Hagler accepted the Leonard challenge and the rest is history. But it would have been fun to see Hagler and Hearns mix it up again, here is what Tommy Hearns said at the time about wanting the rematch:
"I'll go right after him again," Hearns promised, noting strategy that many thought ill-founded last year. "I'm a different person than the one who fought Hagler last year. I feel great, my legs are strong and I can execute everytime."
"I have something to prove, there's never a day that goes by that I don't think about a rematch. It was difficult for me to train with Hagler here. I kept thinking about him and it was hard to concentrate on Shuler."
For the record, I think Hearns would have lost to Hagler again If a rematch had happened, Hagler loved to fight, he loved combat, the rougher the better. He said he enjoyed the way Hearns went after him in the first fight, Hagler could box like heck, but if you wanted to try to slug it out with him, he didn't mind going toe to toe in a shootout, he enjoyed it, and if Hearns would have employed the same strategy in the second fight, I think it would have ended the same way. Hagler was just too tough, you just weren't going to take him out.
Hagler really showed what he was made of when he fought John "the beast" Mugabi. He was one mean and vicious bastard, leading up to his encounter with Hagler he was unbeaten and destroying everything in his path.
I remember watching Hagler vs Mugabi, watching Mugabi hit Hagler with an uppercut that would have obliterated most people and Hagler just taking it like it was part of the job. Mugabi was a beast, but Hagler was a different animal altogether.
March 10, 1986: Hagler vs Mugabi
So, sooner than expected, Mugabi and Hagler were called upon to enter the ring and the sold-out crowd cheered loudly for the man universally acknowledged as the best fighter in the game, pound-for-pound. “Marvelous Marvin,” in tremendous condition as always, his muscular frame and shaved head exuding menace, paced about the ring like a caged panther. It was clear he couldn’t wait to pounce on his prey. Meanwhile, watching Hagler vs Mugabi from ringside with keen interest, was one Sugar Ray Leonard, the ex-champion who had fought only once in the last four years.
Right from the opening bell, Mugabi, who up to this point had campaigned exclusively at 154 pounds, made it known he could hang with the best middleweight on the planet. Showing no reluctance at all to mix it up with Hagler, he came forward fearlessly, winning the opening round with solid blows from either hand and a heavy jab, taking advantage of the southpaw champion’s inexplicable decision to commence hostilities in the orthodox stance.
But in round two Marvin became a left-hander again and immediately started tagging Mugabi with a stiff right lead. Midway through the round the pace picked up as both men let their hands go and landed solid blows, “The Beast” pressing forward, throwing bombs. The slugfest was on and, to the surprise of many, Mugabi was more than holding his own. But by the end of round three Hagler had found his rhythm, snapping home that southpaw jab as he moved to his right, away from Mugabi’s dangerous right hand.
Round four saw the champion gaining control with his quicker hands, but “The Beast” showed he could take Hagler’s best shots without flinching, eating those right leads and firing back. At the end of the round he landed the hardest blow of the fight thus far, a flush right uppercut that snapped back Marvin’s glistening bald dome. And at the bell he stopped Hagler in his tracks again with a heavy right hook to the temple.
Hagler vs Mugabi was, thus far, a fierce and exciting battle but it went to another level in round six, the turning point of the struggle. Mugabi sought to overwhelm Marvelous Marvin as he unleashed one devastating shot after another, but it was Hagler who jolted the Ugandan with a vicious left hand. Astonishingly, the challenger responded by picking up the pace, throwing big hooks with both fists. The champion in turn closed the distance to unload some heavy artillery of his own to both head and body, but more than one shot strayed below the belt and just as Mugabi seemed to be rocked back on his heels, referee Mills Lane paused the action to issue Hagler a warning.
The brief respite aided Mugabi, but Marvin went right back to work, landing a series of right hooks that had his quarry staggering about the ring. Amazingly, the challenger rebounded in the last thirty seconds of the round, and what ensued was sheer carnage as the two warriors went toe-to-toe, guns blazing, both throwing and catching huge shots as the crowd stood and roared.
But that ferocious round took a heavy toll on the challenger. “The Beast” continued to battle valiantly, but his legs now seemed sodden and heavy, as if stuck in quicksand, and his punches became increasingly wide. Lane helped out the challenger again with an interruption to deduct a point from Marvin for low blows, a questionable call, but the rest of round seven featured more brutal toe-to-toe warfare, with Marvin’s straighter, quicker shots giving him the edge.
Round eight saw no let-up in the action as Mugabi landed solid body blows and looked again to trade as Hagler consistently beat his man to the punch, finding the distance he needed to land flush right hooks. It was clear Marvin enjoyed a commanding lead, but at the same time a nasty lump was ripening under his right eye. And near the end of round nine it was Mugabi who opened up with a series of hard right hands.
The pace quickened yet again in the tenth, both fighters getting home heavy shots, upstairs and down, but soon enough Hagler had regained control, landing hard body blows on the inside and forcing Mugabi to retreat. Marvelous Marvin’s sheer physical strength was now dictating the terms as “The Beast,” his tired legs faltering, searched in vain for a second wind.
Round eleven was Mugabi’s last stand and no one could ever say he lacked for heart or courage. As he struggled to keep his balance and fight back, Hagler ruthlessly pressed his advantage, continually marching forward, working on the inside like an expert bricklayer, methodically putting one short, sharp blow after another in place, slowly but surely stealing away what was left of the challenger’s stamina.
Finally, the last of three consecutive right hands buckled Mugabi’s legs and sent him stumbling backwards. Two more rights landed and the challenger fell into the ropes and collapsed. He rose to a sitting position as Lane tolled the count but that’s all he could manage. Exhaustion, and an accumulation of heavy punishment from an all-time great middleweight, kept “The Beast” on the canvas. But only after giving “Marvelous Marvin” one hell of a fight, a brawl to remember. Indeed, Hagler vs Mugabi would prove to be one of the year’s most exciting battles.
Considering Mugabi’s sheer power and his spirited effort, this stands as one of the late, great Marvelous Marvin Hagler’s most impressive efforts, his last truly “marvelous” performance. He showed it all: heart, power, strength, accuracy, amazing durability and smart tactics. He won almost every round as he broke his adversary down with ruthless efficiency, risking heavy punishment to give boxing fans an action-packed donnybrook and a conclusive finish.
Hagler was something else, one of the best middleweights in boxing history, I would love to have seen Hagler vs Sugar Ray Robinson, the Sugar Ray Robinson from Robinson vs Lamotta 6 , the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Sugar Ray Robinson's record going into that fight was 121-1-2 (79 KO) and that version of Sugar Ray Robinson is the greatest fighter I've ever seen. That's my dream middleweight fight, prime Hagler vs prime Robinson.
@doubledragon said:
Marvelous Marvin Hagler was Eric's favorite boxer, and he picked a darn good one, Hagler was the epitome of what a boxer should be. He lived the life, talked the talk, and walked the walk. He once said, "If they cut my bald head open, they will find one big boxing glove. That's all I am. I live it." And live it he did, Hagler used to train for fights at Cape Cod in Massachusetts, he would isolate himself up there with no women, no partying, and just focus on what he needed to do to get better and win. He would jog up there in the freezing cold, in the snow, wearing combat boots while he jogged.
Not sure but I believe he trained in Brockton Mass. and he would spend time before fights training in Provincetown Mass. ( Cape Cod ) My dad worked at the community center in Provincetown and Marvin Hagler would frequent there. I met him once on Commercial Street and he loved my Bob Marley shirt and commented on it, I got a kick out of it and thought that was cool.
@doubledragon said:
Marvelous Marvin Hagler was Eric's favorite boxer, and he picked a darn good one, Hagler was the epitome of what a boxer should be. He lived the life, talked the talk, and walked the walk. He once said, "If they cut my bald head open, they will find one big boxing glove. That's all I am. I live it." And live it he did, Hagler used to train for fights at Cape Cod in Massachusetts, he would isolate himself up there with no women, no partying, and just focus on what he needed to do to get better and win. He would jog up there in the freezing cold, in the snow, wearing combat boots while he jogged.
Not sure but I believe he trained in Brockton Mass. and he would spend time before fights training in Provincetown Mass. ( Cape Cod ) My dad worked at the community center in Provincetown and Marvin Hagler would frequent there. I met him once on Commercial Street and he loved my Bob Marley shirt and commented on it, I got a kick out of it and thought that was cool.
Yes, those photos of him jogging were taken in Provincetown, he trained there as well as Cape Cod and Brockton. He was originally from Newark New Jersey, his mother moved him and his five siblings to Brockton in 1967 after the riots. He used to hold training camps at a place called The Provincetown Inn, I think the owners were personal friends of his. That's an awesome story about meeting him, he was a real nice guy and always loved interacting with fans.
I want to talk about another one of my favorite fighters for a minute here, Jerry Quarry. He was as tough as they come, but life was hard on him. He came up during the most brutal era of heavyweight boxing, the Golden era, alongside the likes of Floyd Patterson, Muhammad Ali, Ron Lyle, Earnie Shavers, and Joe Frazier. But despite all of it, he made a name for himself because of his heart, he had a lot of heart, and win or lose, he always gave his best and came to fight.
How good of a boxer was Jerry Quarry in his prime?
He was a top ranked heavyweight - no 1 contender at 3 different times - and fought the best fighters of the day. And did this giving away 20 lbs. Quarry was a cruiserweight before the division was established. Beat 2 of the hardest sluggers: ko’d Ernie Shavers and decisioned Ron Lyle. Beat Floyd Patterson and lost twice to both Ali and Frazier. His smaller stature - 6'0" 195lbs and 72" reach - forced him to fight inside which favored his powerful left hook. Unfortunately he was willing to take head shots trying to move inside and the cumulative damage from 200 amatuer fights and over 60 pro fights caused the most shocking and severe case of dementia I had ever seen. He died at age 53.
Edit: He also did a surprisingly good and funny impression of Ali:
As tough as they come and I'd say he was the gatekeeper to the heavyweight championship. If you wanted a title shot you had to get through him and it proved you were ready for a shot at the champ.
Unfortunately I believe psychologically he held himself back always coming close but perhaps never believing that he was good enough to win the title therefore he didn't win the title.
Jerry Quarry is a forgotten and tragic Hall of Fame fighter.
But to boxing fans, fighters and historians, Jerry Quarry is not just a story of what might have been, he is part of a family tragedy that marks the dark side of boxing.
Jerry Quarry is often called the best heavyweight who never won a title. Nat Fleischer of Ring said in the 1950’s Quarry would have been heavyweight champion. Certainly if he fought today he would have garnered at least a title. Eddie Futch believed if Quarry had had decent management and training, he would have had a title in 1968.
Who was Jerry Quarry, and where did he come from, what shaped him?
Jerry Quarry was born on May 15, 1945 and died of problems related to pugilistic dementia on January 3, 1999. Jerry was nicknamed "Irish" or "The Bellflower Bomber.”
Jack Quarry, his father, had been an amateur boxer in his youth and a man with the words ''Hard Luck'' tattooed on his knuckles and the motto ''A Quarry Never Quits'' tattooed on his arm. The father went west from the Texas cotton patches in the Depression years, and with his wife, Arwanda, raised his children in migrant labor camps.
The Quarry’s moved from labor camp to labor camp as the harvests came in, and the kids worked from the time they were little. They also learned to fight. From that mean, dirt poor background, came a tough Irish kid, Jerry Quarry, and his fighting brothers.
Jerry Quarry once wryly noted:
“My heritage was 'The Grapes of Wrath.''
Jerry Quarry was foreordained to live out his father’s dreams. His Dad had dreamed of being a champion, and was determined to see that dream realized by his sons. Jerry Quarry was given his first pair of boxing gloves by his father, Jack Quarry, when he was three, and had his first fight when he was five. He won a Junior Golden Gloves title at the age of 10 and won the title again the next three years in a row.
Jerry Quarry’s dominant amateur career
Quarry won the National Golden Gloves Heavyweight Championship in 1965 and was named the tournament's most outstanding fighter. He knocked out all five of his opponents, setting a tournament record which still stands today. He stopped Lynn Farr in the semifinals and Jim Donlinger in the finals. Both suffered broken jaws.
Quarry as a professional fighter
Quarry finished with an amateur record of 170-13, and was considered future pro title material - he had power, speed, a good chin, and outstanding technical ability.
In a division dominated by Black fighters, Quarry unwillingly found himself at the center of racial hype. Quarry was referred to in one magazine article as:
“The Great White Hope'' and in another as ''Hungry, White and 22.''
His brother actually put “the Great White Hope” on his tombstone, sadly mocking the whole thing.
Quarry turned pro on May 7, 1965. Despite starting in May of that year, Quarry had 14 fights in 1965 alone to start of his pro career. His father was his manager, and his idea of training was to tell Jerry to hit things and not worry about style or form. Jerry, who had excellent basics from his amateur days, was encouraged to try to knock out every opponent and make every fight a war - his father thought it would make him more popular.
To give you an idea of how journeyman level fighters make little money then, or now, Quarry supplemented his small purses by working as a tire changer at a Greyhound bus terminal.
Quarry was fast handed and an effective counter puncher, but with his father urging him to go for knockouts to build popularity, and his father telling him that slugfests were entertaining to the crowds, Jerry had a tendency to neglect defense and rely on his chin to withstand being hit. He had three draws on his record when he faced the great Eddie Machen, known for his feat of surviving Sonny Liston and staying upright throughout their match during Sonny’s run of knockouts towards his title shot. Quarry lost to Machen who showed that Jerry needed more than a vicious left hook.
Quarry’s mishandling as a fighter was typified by his facing Joe Frazier in 1969. His Dad had been trying to bait Frazier’s management for a fight for two years. But Eddie Futch had convinced Cloverlay, Frazier’s management team, not to accept the right until he deemed Frazier ready. Futch said he would not do to Frazier what Jack Quarry did with his son, and throw him in to sink or swim.
Futch felt that handled and trained differently, Quarry could have been champion. (for instance, in their 1969 fight, Futch felt it was insane for Jack Quarry to send Jerry out to stand toe to toe with Joe Frazier and slug it out - it was exactly Joe’s perfect fight scenario; Futch had he been training and managing Jerry would have had him move and counter punch, which he did very well)
During his best years, which are 1968 to 1971, Quarry was rated by Ring magazine as the most popular fighter in boxing. Boxing Illustrated named Quarry the most popular professional boxer in the world in 1968 and 1969, and Quarry shared the honor with Ali 1970.
Joe Frazier would recall in his autobiography "Smokin' Joe: The Autobiography of a Heavyweight Champion of the World," that:
“Quarry had an appeal that made the public snap up tickets, 'Why not? He was a good-looking Irish kid with a nice smile and an engaging boy-next-door manner.''
Jerry Quarry fought the best, and never ducked anyone
His most famous bouts were against world champions Ali, Joe Frazier, Floyd Patterson and Jimmy Ellis. A bellweather of his career though came with his defeat against Joe Frazier in 1969, and his 1968 loss to Jimmy Ellis, both for the title. The loss to Ellis, by majority decision, was especially painful, and typical of the fact Jerry Quarry never got a break.
Los Angeles Herald-Examiner reported that Quarry broke his back several weeks before the Ellis fight. The injury occurred during a friendly wrestling match with one of his brothers. When Jerry told his father he thought he had badly hurt himself, Quarry’s father told him not to have x-rays or treatment prior to the fight, as he feared Jerry would lose his title shot. But a broken back left Quarry unable to move effectively, and certainly unable to counter as he could have.
The full extent of the injury wasn't known until Quarry had X-rays taken on August 6, 1968. Quarry, never one to make excuses, said:
“I can't say the back bothered me much during the Ellis fight, but it probably hampered my movement a little."
Do you think?
It was one more example of Jack Quarry’s school of mismanagement.
Jerry Quarry faced a murder’s row of top contenders:
Ali (lost)
Floyd Patterson (won one drew one)
Joe Frazier (lost two)
Ken Norton (lost)
Eddie Machen (lost)
Jimmy Ellis (lost a fight which should have been medically postponed)
George Chuvalo
Ron Lyle
Earnie Shavers
Buster Mathis
Brian London
Jerry Quarry finished with a record of 53–9–4, with wins over some of the best heavyweights of that era in Ellis, Patterson, Shavers and Lyle. Quarry was small compared to many of his opponents, coming in at about 190 pounds, but he was extremely tough and had very real power, especially his left hook.
What the greats of the 70’s thought about Quarry as a fighter
Ken Norton said in "Going the Distance" that the only fighters better than Quarry in their era were “Ali, Frazier, Foreman, and me.”
Joe Frazier, in his autobiography "Smokin' Joe: The Autobiography of a Heavyweight Champion of the World" listed the best fighters of the 60's and 70's as Ali, Foreman, Norton - and then Holmes, right there with Jerry Quarry.
Another fighter who ranked the greats from the 70's was Ernie Shavers, who said in his book "Welcome To The Big Time" by Earnie Shavers, that the best fighters, the “first tier,” of that era were Ali, Foreman and Frazier. Earnie ranked the second tier as himself, Ken Norton, Jerry Quarry and Larry Holmes - in that order.
Shavers said of Quarry "it was too bad for Jerry he did not come along 10 years later - he would have easily defeated Larry Holmes for the title. He was a master of body punching, and Larry had no answer for that."
Perhaps Quarry’s finest fight was in 1973, when he was matched with rising slugger Ron Lyle, who was 19–0 with 17 knockouts, and said he was going over or through Quarry. Jerry in a rare decision, boxed, moved and counter punched, and easily won a decision. (9–1–2, 7–4–1, and 10–2 on the cards)
Gil Clancy had taken over training Jerry, and was teaching him to use his boxing skills, not just try to knock everyone out:
“if only I had had him 10 years ago,” said Clancy.
It was a glimpse into what might have been.
Jerry’s main problems were that he fought during the best heavyweight era in history, he cut easily, and his career was terribly mismanaged from day one till when Gil Clancy took over late in his career.
Substance abuse and first retirement
Quarry retired from boxing in 1975, but had comeback fights in 1977, 1983 and 1992.
Unfortunately, Quarry turned to substance abuse, primarily alcohol and cocaine, as his boxing career began to come to an end, and the drug abuse left him a sitting target in his final years. He literally was a punching bag at the end.
Following a fifth-round TKO by Ken Norton on March 24, 1975, Quarry announced his retirement.
Comebacks, poverty, and dementia
Quarry staged his first comeback in November 1977 and scored an unimpressive ninth-round knockout win against journeymen Lorenzo Zanon. Quarry lost the first seven rounds, retired again the fight. He made another comeback in 1983, desperately needing the money, and defeated two very low level opponents. After winning the second fight by a controversial 10-round majority decision, Quarry again retired. He made one final comeback in 1992 and lost to club fighter Ron Cranmer by a six-round decision. Quarry, who had made millions in his prime, made $1,050 for the fight.
In every comeback Quarry was motivated by poverty, and, as with all top fighters, a missing of the limelight.:
“In making those comebacks, Jerry would walk around saying, 'I'm going to be a hero again,' said his brother Jimmy.
As with Ali, Jerry was clearly impaired by 1977, and never, ever, should have been given a license to fight.
Quarry earned $2.1 million from fighting, but ended up penniless due to drug and alcohol abuse and three marriages.
By 50, pugilistic dementia had reduced Quarry to the level of a small child. His only income was said to have been Social Security disability checks. “He hallucinates, he hears voices,'' his brother James, who cared for Quarry at his home in Hemet, Calif., told an interviewer in 1995:
“When he walks off, we have to go find him. Sometimes we can't find him, and we have to call the police and they bring him back.''
A neuropsychologist who examined Quarry in 1994 said the fighter appeared 30 years older than his actual age.
Quarry was cared for by his brother and his extended family until he died on January 5, 1999. He had been hospitalized on December 28, 1998, with pneumonia and then suffered cardiac arrest. His family ordered his doctors to remove life support after being told that Quarry would be completely bedridden, and fed through a tube if he survived.
When Jerry was inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in October 1995, he was so disabled that he could not sign his name for autograph seekers, and he forgot who he was, or that he had been a boxer.
His brothers and a terrible fate
His brother Mike Quarry, a top light heavyweight during the same era, died at age 55, also from pugilistic dementia.
Mike Quarry, like his brother, was simply born into the wrong era. A very, very, good light heavyweight, more of a technician than a puncher as his brother was, just as his brother fought during the Frazier-Ali era, Mike fought during the Bob Foster era in the light heavyweights.
His career was also badly mismanaged. Jack Quarry was his “advisor,” and his brother Jerry Quarry was Mike’s manager, and he managed him in the same “throw him in he will swim or drown” method his father taught him.
None of that family ever had much luck
The third boxing Quarry brother, Another brother, Bobby, suffers from Parkiinson’s disease, which his family believes was the result of his own heavyweight boxing career. Bobby was forced to retire due to being unable to pass a fight physical from his deteriorating neurological symptoms after consecutive knockout losses to low level journeymen David Dixon and Rocky Pepeli, and a blowout KO loss to Tommy Morrison.
Bobby Quarry was arrested for allegedly being part of a burglary scheme, and went to prison for grand theft. He served time at Folsom Prison, from which he was released on furlough to attend his brother Mike Quarry’s funeral where he is seen in the local paper with his 5 year old son Sam Quarry.
He is the only one of the fighting Quarry brothers still alive.
Jimmy Quarry, Jerry's oldest brother, who took care of Jerry until he died, started the Jerry Quarry Foundation for Pugilistic Dementia in 1994 to raise money for research into pugilistic dementia.
Bob Foster, "the deputy sheriff" , so nicknamed because after his boxing career he became a sheriff's deputy in New Mexico. He's one of the greatest light heavyweights in history, he was also the hardest punching light heavyweight in history, his left hook was just brutal, he absolutely terrorized the light heavyweight division during his reign, he left a trail of destruction a mile long. He was intimidating as hell, the talk freak like body, the deep baritone voice, the cold stare.
Bob Foster was the only one that ever knocked out the immortal Dick Tiger, Tiger had a chin made of ivory, he was only stopped once in his entire career, when Foster caught him with a left hook in the 4th round of their fight.
Jimmy Wilde, Flyweight, one of the greatest fighters to ever live. If you've never heard of him, you don't know sh.. about boxing. He had many nicknames, "the mighty atom", he was also called "the ghost with the hammer in his hand", and "the Indian famine", those were a few of his nicknames, all attributed to his knockout power. He was an enigma, small as heck, but routinely fought and knocked out guys much bigger than him, he had an official record of 131-3, 99(KO) and he still holds the record for the longest unbeaten streak in boxing history, because he started off his career going 93-0. So legendary was his knockout power that doctors examined him to try and determine how he was able to hit so hard and knock out men much bigger than him, Ring magazine has him at number 3 on their 100 greatest punchers list.
God I love this stuff, it's fascinating. There's a lot of debate about Jimmy Wilde's record, the IBHOF has him in at 131-3 99(KO), but records weren't kept back then like they are today, so it varies. Regardless, he was an enigma, a freak of nature, an almost mythical figure in the sport of boxing.
Fight City Legends: The Mighty Atom
The writer of a profile of Jimmy Wilde, aka “The Mighty Atom,” is tempted to outline the particulars of Wilde’s incredible record – 152 bouts, 146 victories, a hundred knockouts, the vast majority of those contests fought within a four year span – and simply say, “‘Nuff said.” But, amazing as those numbers are, that would be short-changing both Wilde and those who want to know more about the tiny man who will forever be, without question, one of the greatest boxers who has ever lived. In fact, the amazing Wilde did not engage in a mere 152 fights, but in something closer to eight hundred. No joke.
Wilde came from Tylorstown, Wales, the son of a coal miner. He was a “pit boy” as a child, hewing coal from crevices no grown man could squeeze into. When he began his boxing career in 1908 at the age of sixteen he weighed just 74 pounds. Like many British fighters of that time he started out with what they called “booth bouts,” which were a popular attraction at traveling fairs. For these contests, money was offered to anyone who could last three rounds with Wilde. Since Wilde had the size and build of a small jockey, he routinely gave away as much as a hundred pounds to his opponents, but it didn’t matter; no one ever made it to the end of the third.
We can’t know for sure how many booth bouts Wilde had — estimates range between five and seven hundred — but for three years, Wilde was boxing almost every day, often several times a day. He loved to fight and had wanted to be a prizefighter since he was a child. When he began to compete on a legit basis in 1911, he was already a veteran, a complete professional at the age of nineteen. His mentor was the legendary Jim Driscoll and from him Wilde had learned the technical side of the game, how to parry and counter, and the art of feinting to create openings. But no one had to teach Wilde how to hit; that appeared to be something he was born with.
So powerful was Wilde that throughout his career he fearlessly stepped into the ring against men much bigger and heavier. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands often at his waist, he would strike with rattlesnake quickness, the right his prime weapon. When it landed cleanly, the fight was often over then and there. Observers were baffled by how a boxer so small could hit so hard. Physicians even examined “The Tylorstown Terror” in a vain effort to determine what anatomical feature contributed to his bone-rattling power. How could a man so diminutive, not to mention pale and sickly looking, throw punches hard enough to knock bigger men out cold? The question led to Wilde’s other memorable appellation: “The Ghost With The Hammer In His Hand.”
In 1912, Wilde won his first title, the British 98 pound championship. Fighting roughly every three weeks, he went on to decimate all competition that was anywhere near his fighting weight, in the process building up the longest unbeaten streak in boxing history. It is a record that will likely never be broken: 103 contests, not a single loss. Even more impressive, Jimmy put together this incredible streak in little more than four years, fighting roughly every two weeks. Thus, by the time he won the world flyweight title in 1916, he had already cleaned out the division and for the remainder of his career had no choice but regularly battle men bigger and heavier. Typical was his bout in 1918 with one Joe Conn where he was outweighed by twenty pounds. To put that in perspective, that’s the equivalent of a middleweight facing a heavyweight. Wilde scored six knockdowns before stopping Conn in round twelve.
Given how often Wilde fought it is perhaps not surprising that his career ended abruptly, his body finally giving out after more than fifteen years of constant warring. Again spotting his opponent almost twenty pounds, he was stopped by former bantamweight champion Pete Herman when Jimmy’s corner threw in the towel in round seventeen. After, Herman, one of the great bantamweights of all time, dubbed Wilde the best he had ever faced. Jimmy immediately retired but came back two years later to defend his flyweight title against the great Pancho Villa, the first Filipino world champion. Villa gave the aging Welshman a terrible beating before stopping him in the seventh. Wilde never fought again.
There is little question that “The Mighty Atom” merits the top position in any serious ranking of the greatest boxers who ever lived. Further, he has to be regarded as a strong contender for the title of the finest fighter, pound-for-pound ever. In terms of raw firepower, Wilde has few peers. Ring magazine rated him the third most powerful puncher of all time, behind only Joe Louis and Sam Langford. No less an authority than heavyweight champion Gene Tunney called Wilde “the greatest fighter I ever saw.”
Comments
Iconic photo of Hearns being carried away after the fight.
For Hagler to take Hearns bombs like that and not even go down once just shows you how tough Hagler was. Hearns was a real freak of nature, extremely tall with long arms, his height and reach gave him an advantage when he punched, it allowed him to generate even more power behind his shots. He was one of the hardest punchers in boxing history, just look at the way he took out Roberto Duran, Duran had one of the greatest chins ever and no one had ever done anything like that to Duran, when it happened it was shocking.
Tommy Hearns really didn't like the nickname "hitman" at first, he said it reminded people of mobsters, but the nickname stuck because of his knockout power and he embraced it.
Anyway, getting back to Hagler vs Hearns, Tommy Hearns actually wanted a rematch with Hagler, a Hagler vs Hearns 2, but Sugar Ray Leonard spoiled those plans by coming out of retirement and calling Hagler out, and Hagler accepted the Leonard challenge and the rest is history. But it would have been fun to see Hagler and Hearns mix it up again, here is what Tommy Hearns said at the time about wanting the rematch:
"I'll go right after him again," Hearns promised, noting strategy that many thought ill-founded last year. "I'm a different person than the one who fought Hagler last year. I feel great, my legs are strong and I can execute everytime."
"I have something to prove, there's never a day that goes by that I don't think about a rematch. It was difficult for me to train with Hagler here. I kept thinking about him and it was hard to concentrate on Shuler."
For the record, I think Hearns would have lost to Hagler again If a rematch had happened, Hagler loved to fight, he loved combat, the rougher the better. He said he enjoyed the way Hearns went after him in the first fight, Hagler could box like heck, but if you wanted to try to slug it out with him, he didn't mind going toe to toe in a shootout, he enjoyed it, and if Hearns would have employed the same strategy in the second fight, I think it would have ended the same way. Hagler was just too tough, you just weren't going to take him out.
Hagler really showed what he was made of when he fought John "the beast" Mugabi. He was one mean and vicious bastard, leading up to his encounter with Hagler he was unbeaten and destroying everything in his path.
I remember watching Hagler vs Mugabi, watching Mugabi hit Hagler with an uppercut that would have obliterated most people and Hagler just taking it like it was part of the job. Mugabi was a beast, but Hagler was a different animal altogether.
March 10, 1986: Hagler vs Mugabi
So, sooner than expected, Mugabi and Hagler were called upon to enter the ring and the sold-out crowd cheered loudly for the man universally acknowledged as the best fighter in the game, pound-for-pound. “Marvelous Marvin,” in tremendous condition as always, his muscular frame and shaved head exuding menace, paced about the ring like a caged panther. It was clear he couldn’t wait to pounce on his prey. Meanwhile, watching Hagler vs Mugabi from ringside with keen interest, was one Sugar Ray Leonard, the ex-champion who had fought only once in the last four years.
Right from the opening bell, Mugabi, who up to this point had campaigned exclusively at 154 pounds, made it known he could hang with the best middleweight on the planet. Showing no reluctance at all to mix it up with Hagler, he came forward fearlessly, winning the opening round with solid blows from either hand and a heavy jab, taking advantage of the southpaw champion’s inexplicable decision to commence hostilities in the orthodox stance.
But in round two Marvin became a left-hander again and immediately started tagging Mugabi with a stiff right lead. Midway through the round the pace picked up as both men let their hands go and landed solid blows, “The Beast” pressing forward, throwing bombs. The slugfest was on and, to the surprise of many, Mugabi was more than holding his own. But by the end of round three Hagler had found his rhythm, snapping home that southpaw jab as he moved to his right, away from Mugabi’s dangerous right hand.
Round four saw the champion gaining control with his quicker hands, but “The Beast” showed he could take Hagler’s best shots without flinching, eating those right leads and firing back. At the end of the round he landed the hardest blow of the fight thus far, a flush right uppercut that snapped back Marvin’s glistening bald dome. And at the bell he stopped Hagler in his tracks again with a heavy right hook to the temple.
Hagler vs Mugabi was, thus far, a fierce and exciting battle but it went to another level in round six, the turning point of the struggle. Mugabi sought to overwhelm Marvelous Marvin as he unleashed one devastating shot after another, but it was Hagler who jolted the Ugandan with a vicious left hand. Astonishingly, the challenger responded by picking up the pace, throwing big hooks with both fists. The champion in turn closed the distance to unload some heavy artillery of his own to both head and body, but more than one shot strayed below the belt and just as Mugabi seemed to be rocked back on his heels, referee Mills Lane paused the action to issue Hagler a warning.
The brief respite aided Mugabi, but Marvin went right back to work, landing a series of right hooks that had his quarry staggering about the ring. Amazingly, the challenger rebounded in the last thirty seconds of the round, and what ensued was sheer carnage as the two warriors went toe-to-toe, guns blazing, both throwing and catching huge shots as the crowd stood and roared.
But that ferocious round took a heavy toll on the challenger. “The Beast” continued to battle valiantly, but his legs now seemed sodden and heavy, as if stuck in quicksand, and his punches became increasingly wide. Lane helped out the challenger again with an interruption to deduct a point from Marvin for low blows, a questionable call, but the rest of round seven featured more brutal toe-to-toe warfare, with Marvin’s straighter, quicker shots giving him the edge.
Round eight saw no let-up in the action as Mugabi landed solid body blows and looked again to trade as Hagler consistently beat his man to the punch, finding the distance he needed to land flush right hooks. It was clear Marvin enjoyed a commanding lead, but at the same time a nasty lump was ripening under his right eye. And near the end of round nine it was Mugabi who opened up with a series of hard right hands.
The pace quickened yet again in the tenth, both fighters getting home heavy shots, upstairs and down, but soon enough Hagler had regained control, landing hard body blows on the inside and forcing Mugabi to retreat. Marvelous Marvin’s sheer physical strength was now dictating the terms as “The Beast,” his tired legs faltering, searched in vain for a second wind.
Round eleven was Mugabi’s last stand and no one could ever say he lacked for heart or courage. As he struggled to keep his balance and fight back, Hagler ruthlessly pressed his advantage, continually marching forward, working on the inside like an expert bricklayer, methodically putting one short, sharp blow after another in place, slowly but surely stealing away what was left of the challenger’s stamina.
Finally, the last of three consecutive right hands buckled Mugabi’s legs and sent him stumbling backwards. Two more rights landed and the challenger fell into the ropes and collapsed. He rose to a sitting position as Lane tolled the count but that’s all he could manage. Exhaustion, and an accumulation of heavy punishment from an all-time great middleweight, kept “The Beast” on the canvas. But only after giving “Marvelous Marvin” one hell of a fight, a brawl to remember. Indeed, Hagler vs Mugabi would prove to be one of the year’s most exciting battles.
Considering Mugabi’s sheer power and his spirited effort, this stands as one of the late, great Marvelous Marvin Hagler’s most impressive efforts, his last truly “marvelous” performance. He showed it all: heart, power, strength, accuracy, amazing durability and smart tactics. He won almost every round as he broke his adversary down with ruthless efficiency, risking heavy punishment to give boxing fans an action-packed donnybrook and a conclusive finish.
Hagler finishes Mugabi in the 11th.
Hagler was something else, one of the best middleweights in boxing history, I would love to have seen Hagler vs Sugar Ray Robinson, the Sugar Ray Robinson from Robinson vs Lamotta 6 , the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Sugar Ray Robinson's record going into that fight was 121-1-2 (79 KO) and that version of Sugar Ray Robinson is the greatest fighter I've ever seen. That's my dream middleweight fight, prime Hagler vs prime Robinson.
Yes, those photos of him jogging were taken in Provincetown, he trained there as well as Cape Cod and Brockton. He was originally from Newark New Jersey, his mother moved him and his five siblings to Brockton in 1967 after the riots. He used to hold training camps at a place called The Provincetown Inn, I think the owners were personal friends of his. That's an awesome story about meeting him, he was a real nice guy and always loved interacting with fans.
Hagler with some young fans.
I want to talk about another one of my favorite fighters for a minute here, Jerry Quarry. He was as tough as they come, but life was hard on him. He came up during the most brutal era of heavyweight boxing, the Golden era, alongside the likes of Floyd Patterson, Muhammad Ali, Ron Lyle, Earnie Shavers, and Joe Frazier. But despite all of it, he made a name for himself because of his heart, he had a lot of heart, and win or lose, he always gave his best and came to fight.
How good of a boxer was Jerry Quarry in his prime?
He was a top ranked heavyweight - no 1 contender at 3 different times - and fought the best fighters of the day. And did this giving away 20 lbs. Quarry was a cruiserweight before the division was established. Beat 2 of the hardest sluggers: ko’d Ernie Shavers and decisioned Ron Lyle. Beat Floyd Patterson and lost twice to both Ali and Frazier. His smaller stature - 6'0" 195lbs and 72" reach - forced him to fight inside which favored his powerful left hook. Unfortunately he was willing to take head shots trying to move inside and the cumulative damage from 200 amatuer fights and over 60 pro fights caused the most shocking and severe case of dementia I had ever seen. He died at age 53.
Edit: He also did a surprisingly good and funny impression of Ali:
As tough as they come and I'd say he was the gatekeeper to the heavyweight championship. If you wanted a title shot you had to get through him and it proved you were ready for a shot at the champ.
Unfortunately I believe psychologically he held himself back always coming close but perhaps never believing that he was good enough to win the title therefore he didn't win the title.
Jerry Quarry is a forgotten and tragic Hall of Fame fighter.
But to boxing fans, fighters and historians, Jerry Quarry is not just a story of what might have been, he is part of a family tragedy that marks the dark side of boxing.
Jerry Quarry is often called the best heavyweight who never won a title. Nat Fleischer of Ring said in the 1950’s Quarry would have been heavyweight champion. Certainly if he fought today he would have garnered at least a title. Eddie Futch believed if Quarry had had decent management and training, he would have had a title in 1968.
Who was Jerry Quarry, and where did he come from, what shaped him?
Jerry Quarry was born on May 15, 1945 and died of problems related to pugilistic dementia on January 3, 1999. Jerry was nicknamed "Irish" or "The Bellflower Bomber.”
Jack Quarry, his father, had been an amateur boxer in his youth and a man with the words ''Hard Luck'' tattooed on his knuckles and the motto ''A Quarry Never Quits'' tattooed on his arm. The father went west from the Texas cotton patches in the Depression years, and with his wife, Arwanda, raised his children in migrant labor camps.
The Quarry’s moved from labor camp to labor camp as the harvests came in, and the kids worked from the time they were little. They also learned to fight. From that mean, dirt poor background, came a tough Irish kid, Jerry Quarry, and his fighting brothers.
Jerry Quarry once wryly noted:
“My heritage was 'The Grapes of Wrath.''
Jerry Quarry was foreordained to live out his father’s dreams. His Dad had dreamed of being a champion, and was determined to see that dream realized by his sons. Jerry Quarry was given his first pair of boxing gloves by his father, Jack Quarry, when he was three, and had his first fight when he was five. He won a Junior Golden Gloves title at the age of 10 and won the title again the next three years in a row.
Jerry Quarry’s dominant amateur career
Quarry won the National Golden Gloves Heavyweight Championship in 1965 and was named the tournament's most outstanding fighter. He knocked out all five of his opponents, setting a tournament record which still stands today. He stopped Lynn Farr in the semifinals and Jim Donlinger in the finals. Both suffered broken jaws.
Quarry as a professional fighter
Quarry finished with an amateur record of 170-13, and was considered future pro title material - he had power, speed, a good chin, and outstanding technical ability.
In a division dominated by Black fighters, Quarry unwillingly found himself at the center of racial hype. Quarry was referred to in one magazine article as:
“The Great White Hope'' and in another as ''Hungry, White and 22.''
His brother actually put “the Great White Hope” on his tombstone, sadly mocking the whole thing.
Quarry turned pro on May 7, 1965. Despite starting in May of that year, Quarry had 14 fights in 1965 alone to start of his pro career. His father was his manager, and his idea of training was to tell Jerry to hit things and not worry about style or form. Jerry, who had excellent basics from his amateur days, was encouraged to try to knock out every opponent and make every fight a war - his father thought it would make him more popular.
To give you an idea of how journeyman level fighters make little money then, or now, Quarry supplemented his small purses by working as a tire changer at a Greyhound bus terminal.
Quarry was fast handed and an effective counter puncher, but with his father urging him to go for knockouts to build popularity, and his father telling him that slugfests were entertaining to the crowds, Jerry had a tendency to neglect defense and rely on his chin to withstand being hit. He had three draws on his record when he faced the great Eddie Machen, known for his feat of surviving Sonny Liston and staying upright throughout their match during Sonny’s run of knockouts towards his title shot. Quarry lost to Machen who showed that Jerry needed more than a vicious left hook.
Quarry’s mishandling as a fighter was typified by his facing Joe Frazier in 1969. His Dad had been trying to bait Frazier’s management for a fight for two years. But Eddie Futch had convinced Cloverlay, Frazier’s management team, not to accept the right until he deemed Frazier ready. Futch said he would not do to Frazier what Jack Quarry did with his son, and throw him in to sink or swim.
Futch felt that handled and trained differently, Quarry could have been champion. (for instance, in their 1969 fight, Futch felt it was insane for Jack Quarry to send Jerry out to stand toe to toe with Joe Frazier and slug it out - it was exactly Joe’s perfect fight scenario; Futch had he been training and managing Jerry would have had him move and counter punch, which he did very well)
During his best years, which are 1968 to 1971, Quarry was rated by Ring magazine as the most popular fighter in boxing. Boxing Illustrated named Quarry the most popular professional boxer in the world in 1968 and 1969, and Quarry shared the honor with Ali 1970.
Joe Frazier would recall in his autobiography "Smokin' Joe: The Autobiography of a Heavyweight Champion of the World," that:
“Quarry had an appeal that made the public snap up tickets, 'Why not? He was a good-looking Irish kid with a nice smile and an engaging boy-next-door manner.''
Jerry Quarry fought the best, and never ducked anyone
His most famous bouts were against world champions Ali, Joe Frazier, Floyd Patterson and Jimmy Ellis. A bellweather of his career though came with his defeat against Joe Frazier in 1969, and his 1968 loss to Jimmy Ellis, both for the title. The loss to Ellis, by majority decision, was especially painful, and typical of the fact Jerry Quarry never got a break.
Los Angeles Herald-Examiner reported that Quarry broke his back several weeks before the Ellis fight. The injury occurred during a friendly wrestling match with one of his brothers. When Jerry told his father he thought he had badly hurt himself, Quarry’s father told him not to have x-rays or treatment prior to the fight, as he feared Jerry would lose his title shot. But a broken back left Quarry unable to move effectively, and certainly unable to counter as he could have.
The full extent of the injury wasn't known until Quarry had X-rays taken on August 6, 1968. Quarry, never one to make excuses, said:
“I can't say the back bothered me much during the Ellis fight, but it probably hampered my movement a little."
Do you think?
It was one more example of Jack Quarry’s school of mismanagement.
Jerry Quarry faced a murder’s row of top contenders:
Ali (lost)
Floyd Patterson (won one drew one)
Joe Frazier (lost two)
Ken Norton (lost)
Eddie Machen (lost)
Jimmy Ellis (lost a fight which should have been medically postponed)
George Chuvalo
Ron Lyle
Earnie Shavers
Buster Mathis
Brian London
Jerry Quarry finished with a record of 53–9–4, with wins over some of the best heavyweights of that era in Ellis, Patterson, Shavers and Lyle. Quarry was small compared to many of his opponents, coming in at about 190 pounds, but he was extremely tough and had very real power, especially his left hook.
What the greats of the 70’s thought about Quarry as a fighter
Ken Norton said in "Going the Distance" that the only fighters better than Quarry in their era were “Ali, Frazier, Foreman, and me.”
Joe Frazier, in his autobiography "Smokin' Joe: The Autobiography of a Heavyweight Champion of the World" listed the best fighters of the 60's and 70's as Ali, Foreman, Norton - and then Holmes, right there with Jerry Quarry.
Another fighter who ranked the greats from the 70's was Ernie Shavers, who said in his book "Welcome To The Big Time" by Earnie Shavers, that the best fighters, the “first tier,” of that era were Ali, Foreman and Frazier. Earnie ranked the second tier as himself, Ken Norton, Jerry Quarry and Larry Holmes - in that order.
Shavers said of Quarry "it was too bad for Jerry he did not come along 10 years later - he would have easily defeated Larry Holmes for the title. He was a master of body punching, and Larry had no answer for that."
Perhaps Quarry’s finest fight was in 1973, when he was matched with rising slugger Ron Lyle, who was 19–0 with 17 knockouts, and said he was going over or through Quarry. Jerry in a rare decision, boxed, moved and counter punched, and easily won a decision. (9–1–2, 7–4–1, and 10–2 on the cards)
Gil Clancy had taken over training Jerry, and was teaching him to use his boxing skills, not just try to knock everyone out:
“if only I had had him 10 years ago,” said Clancy.
It was a glimpse into what might have been.
Jerry’s main problems were that he fought during the best heavyweight era in history, he cut easily, and his career was terribly mismanaged from day one till when Gil Clancy took over late in his career.
Substance abuse and first retirement
Quarry retired from boxing in 1975, but had comeback fights in 1977, 1983 and 1992.
Unfortunately, Quarry turned to substance abuse, primarily alcohol and cocaine, as his boxing career began to come to an end, and the drug abuse left him a sitting target in his final years. He literally was a punching bag at the end.
Following a fifth-round TKO by Ken Norton on March 24, 1975, Quarry announced his retirement.
Comebacks, poverty, and dementia
Quarry staged his first comeback in November 1977 and scored an unimpressive ninth-round knockout win against journeymen Lorenzo Zanon. Quarry lost the first seven rounds, retired again the fight. He made another comeback in 1983, desperately needing the money, and defeated two very low level opponents. After winning the second fight by a controversial 10-round majority decision, Quarry again retired. He made one final comeback in 1992 and lost to club fighter Ron Cranmer by a six-round decision. Quarry, who had made millions in his prime, made $1,050 for the fight.
In every comeback Quarry was motivated by poverty, and, as with all top fighters, a missing of the limelight.:
“In making those comebacks, Jerry would walk around saying, 'I'm going to be a hero again,' said his brother Jimmy.
As with Ali, Jerry was clearly impaired by 1977, and never, ever, should have been given a license to fight.
Quarry earned $2.1 million from fighting, but ended up penniless due to drug and alcohol abuse and three marriages.
By 50, pugilistic dementia had reduced Quarry to the level of a small child. His only income was said to have been Social Security disability checks. “He hallucinates, he hears voices,'' his brother James, who cared for Quarry at his home in Hemet, Calif., told an interviewer in 1995:
“When he walks off, we have to go find him. Sometimes we can't find him, and we have to call the police and they bring him back.''
A neuropsychologist who examined Quarry in 1994 said the fighter appeared 30 years older than his actual age.
Quarry was cared for by his brother and his extended family until he died on January 5, 1999. He had been hospitalized on December 28, 1998, with pneumonia and then suffered cardiac arrest. His family ordered his doctors to remove life support after being told that Quarry would be completely bedridden, and fed through a tube if he survived.
When Jerry was inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in October 1995, he was so disabled that he could not sign his name for autograph seekers, and he forgot who he was, or that he had been a boxer.
His brothers and a terrible fate
His brother Mike Quarry, a top light heavyweight during the same era, died at age 55, also from pugilistic dementia.
Mike Quarry, like his brother, was simply born into the wrong era. A very, very, good light heavyweight, more of a technician than a puncher as his brother was, just as his brother fought during the Frazier-Ali era, Mike fought during the Bob Foster era in the light heavyweights.
His career was also badly mismanaged. Jack Quarry was his “advisor,” and his brother Jerry Quarry was Mike’s manager, and he managed him in the same “throw him in he will swim or drown” method his father taught him.
None of that family ever had much luck
The third boxing Quarry brother, Another brother, Bobby, suffers from Parkiinson’s disease, which his family believes was the result of his own heavyweight boxing career. Bobby was forced to retire due to being unable to pass a fight physical from his deteriorating neurological symptoms after consecutive knockout losses to low level journeymen David Dixon and Rocky Pepeli, and a blowout KO loss to Tommy Morrison.
Bobby Quarry was arrested for allegedly being part of a burglary scheme, and went to prison for grand theft. He served time at Folsom Prison, from which he was released on furlough to attend his brother Mike Quarry’s funeral where he is seen in the local paper with his 5 year old son Sam Quarry.
He is the only one of the fighting Quarry brothers still alive.
Jimmy Quarry, Jerry's oldest brother, who took care of Jerry until he died, started the Jerry Quarry Foundation for Pugilistic Dementia in 1994 to raise money for research into pugilistic dementia.
Jerry Quarry was a warrior, he never wanted to surrender, it didn't matter if he was busted up, bleeding, swollen.
Jerry Quarry (left) jogging with his brother Mike.
Jerry Quarry after his loss to Joe Frazier.
Jerry Quarry vs Mac Foster.
Jerry Quarry with his wife.
Jerry Quarry faces off with Buster Mathis.
Jerry Quarry.
Great book about the life and career of Jerry Quarry.
I love this tribute video of Jerry Quarry highlights, the maestro that runs this channel couldn't have picked a better song to go along with it.
This is one of my all-time favorite Ring magazine covers, Jerry Quarry.
Bob Foster, "the deputy sheriff" , so nicknamed because after his boxing career he became a sheriff's deputy in New Mexico. He's one of the greatest light heavyweights in history, he was also the hardest punching light heavyweight in history, his left hook was just brutal, he absolutely terrorized the light heavyweight division during his reign, he left a trail of destruction a mile long. He was intimidating as hell, the talk freak like body, the deep baritone voice, the cold stare.
If Foster caught you with his left hook, it was over.
Just a brutal puncher.
Bob Foster was the only one that ever knocked out the immortal Dick Tiger, Tiger had a chin made of ivory, he was only stopped once in his entire career, when Foster caught him with a left hook in the 4th round of their fight.
Vincent Rondon after his encounter with Foster.
Foster in his corner during the Mike Quarry fight.
Bob Foster in training.
Bob Foster was one bad dude.
Jimmy Wilde, Flyweight, one of the greatest fighters to ever live. If you've never heard of him, you don't know sh.. about boxing. He had many nicknames, "the mighty atom", he was also called "the ghost with the hammer in his hand", and "the Indian famine", those were a few of his nicknames, all attributed to his knockout power. He was an enigma, small as heck, but routinely fought and knocked out guys much bigger than him, he had an official record of 131-3, 99(KO) and he still holds the record for the longest unbeaten streak in boxing history, because he started off his career going 93-0. So legendary was his knockout power that doctors examined him to try and determine how he was able to hit so hard and knock out men much bigger than him, Ring magazine has him at number 3 on their 100 greatest punchers list.
God I love this stuff, it's fascinating. There's a lot of debate about Jimmy Wilde's record, the IBHOF has him in at 131-3 99(KO), but records weren't kept back then like they are today, so it varies. Regardless, he was an enigma, a freak of nature, an almost mythical figure in the sport of boxing.
Fight City Legends: The Mighty Atom
The writer of a profile of Jimmy Wilde, aka “The Mighty Atom,” is tempted to outline the particulars of Wilde’s incredible record – 152 bouts, 146 victories, a hundred knockouts, the vast majority of those contests fought within a four year span – and simply say, “‘Nuff said.” But, amazing as those numbers are, that would be short-changing both Wilde and those who want to know more about the tiny man who will forever be, without question, one of the greatest boxers who has ever lived. In fact, the amazing Wilde did not engage in a mere 152 fights, but in something closer to eight hundred. No joke.
Wilde came from Tylorstown, Wales, the son of a coal miner. He was a “pit boy” as a child, hewing coal from crevices no grown man could squeeze into. When he began his boxing career in 1908 at the age of sixteen he weighed just 74 pounds. Like many British fighters of that time he started out with what they called “booth bouts,” which were a popular attraction at traveling fairs. For these contests, money was offered to anyone who could last three rounds with Wilde. Since Wilde had the size and build of a small jockey, he routinely gave away as much as a hundred pounds to his opponents, but it didn’t matter; no one ever made it to the end of the third.
We can’t know for sure how many booth bouts Wilde had — estimates range between five and seven hundred — but for three years, Wilde was boxing almost every day, often several times a day. He loved to fight and had wanted to be a prizefighter since he was a child. When he began to compete on a legit basis in 1911, he was already a veteran, a complete professional at the age of nineteen. His mentor was the legendary Jim Driscoll and from him Wilde had learned the technical side of the game, how to parry and counter, and the art of feinting to create openings. But no one had to teach Wilde how to hit; that appeared to be something he was born with.
So powerful was Wilde that throughout his career he fearlessly stepped into the ring against men much bigger and heavier. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands often at his waist, he would strike with rattlesnake quickness, the right his prime weapon. When it landed cleanly, the fight was often over then and there. Observers were baffled by how a boxer so small could hit so hard. Physicians even examined “The Tylorstown Terror” in a vain effort to determine what anatomical feature contributed to his bone-rattling power. How could a man so diminutive, not to mention pale and sickly looking, throw punches hard enough to knock bigger men out cold? The question led to Wilde’s other memorable appellation: “The Ghost With The Hammer In His Hand.”
In 1912, Wilde won his first title, the British 98 pound championship. Fighting roughly every three weeks, he went on to decimate all competition that was anywhere near his fighting weight, in the process building up the longest unbeaten streak in boxing history. It is a record that will likely never be broken: 103 contests, not a single loss. Even more impressive, Jimmy put together this incredible streak in little more than four years, fighting roughly every two weeks. Thus, by the time he won the world flyweight title in 1916, he had already cleaned out the division and for the remainder of his career had no choice but regularly battle men bigger and heavier. Typical was his bout in 1918 with one Joe Conn where he was outweighed by twenty pounds. To put that in perspective, that’s the equivalent of a middleweight facing a heavyweight. Wilde scored six knockdowns before stopping Conn in round twelve.
Given how often Wilde fought it is perhaps not surprising that his career ended abruptly, his body finally giving out after more than fifteen years of constant warring. Again spotting his opponent almost twenty pounds, he was stopped by former bantamweight champion Pete Herman when Jimmy’s corner threw in the towel in round seventeen. After, Herman, one of the great bantamweights of all time, dubbed Wilde the best he had ever faced. Jimmy immediately retired but came back two years later to defend his flyweight title against the great Pancho Villa, the first Filipino world champion. Villa gave the aging Welshman a terrible beating before stopping him in the seventh. Wilde never fought again.
There is little question that “The Mighty Atom” merits the top position in any serious ranking of the greatest boxers who ever lived. Further, he has to be regarded as a strong contender for the title of the finest fighter, pound-for-pound ever. In terms of raw firepower, Wilde has few peers. Ring magazine rated him the third most powerful puncher of all time, behind only Joe Louis and Sam Langford. No less an authority than heavyweight champion Gene Tunney called Wilde “the greatest fighter I ever saw.”
Jimmy Wilde corners his opponent.
Jimmy Wilde poses for a photo.
Jimmy Wilde in his prime.
Jimmy Wilde skips rope in training.
Jimmy Wilde with a friend.
Jimmy Wilde sits with his family.