Yes, that is a very well known story. Sugar Ray Robinson is considered by many, including myself, to be the greatest pound for pound fighter that ever lived. But his story is bittersweet and it's really hard to be a fan of him because he was a really a horrible person outside the ring, he beat the crap out of his wife Edna Mae, and it is rumored to have caused her to have miscarriages, I don't know if that part is true or not. It's a sad story, he was such a genius in the ring, but a real piece of garbage outside of it to his family. Maybe it was the result of so many fights, I don't know, maybe it was a different time, when people thought it wasn't a big deal to abuse your wife, whatever the reason, it's a really sad story. The video you posted was about the Jimmy Doyle fight, and Jimmy Doyle did end up dying from that fight, it is a very eerie thing, and Sugar Ray Robinson did struggle with it afterward, as a matter of fact, I read that he came to resent the boxing business because of it, but continued to fight because he was so good at it and it made him money. Anyway, I'll be covering him later in in the thread, his story is very complex and it's going to take some more research.
@stevek said:
Very interesting short video that popped up on my Youtube screen about Sugar Ray Robinson:
Yes, that is a very well known story. Sugar Ray Robinson is considered by many, including myself, to be the greatest pound for pound fighter that ever lived. But his story is bittersweet and it's really hard to be a fan of him because he was a really a horrible person outside the ring, he beat the crap out of his wife Edna Mae, and it is rumored to have caused her to have miscarriages, I don't know if that part is true or not. It's a sad story, he was such a genius in the ring, but a real piece of garbage outside of it to his family. Maybe it was the result of so many fights, I don't know, maybe it was a different time, when people thought it wasn't a big deal to abuse your wife, whatever the reason, it's a really sad story. The video you posted was about the Jimmy Doyle fight, and Jimmy Doyle did end up dying from that fight, it is a very eerie thing, and Sugar Ray Robinson did struggle with it afterward, as a matter of fact, I read that he came to resent the boxing business because of it, but continued to fight because he was so good at it and it made him money. Anyway, I'll be covering him later in in the thread, his story is very complex and it's going to take some more research.
Very complex indeed, considering all of that. I have zero tolerance towards anyone physically abusing women.
Robinson intentionally does that to his wife, yet feels so bad about a fighter he accidentally killed in the ring. A twisted sense of logic for sure.
@stevek said:
Very interesting short video that popped up on my Youtube screen about Sugar Ray Robinson:
Yes, that is a very well known story. Sugar Ray Robinson is considered by many, including myself, to be the greatest pound for pound fighter that ever lived. But his story is bittersweet and it's really hard to be a fan of him because he was a really a horrible person outside the ring, he beat the crap out of his wife Edna Mae, and it is rumored to have caused her to have miscarriages, I don't know if that part is true or not. It's a sad story, he was such a genius in the ring, but a real piece of garbage outside of it to his family. Maybe it was the result of so many fights, I don't know, maybe it was a different time, when people thought it wasn't a big deal to abuse your wife, whatever the reason, it's a really sad story. The video you posted was about the Jimmy Doyle fight, and Jimmy Doyle did end up dying from that fight, it is a very eerie thing, and Sugar Ray Robinson did struggle with it afterward, as a matter of fact, I read that he came to resent the boxing business because of it, but continued to fight because he was so good at it and it made him money. Anyway, I'll be covering him later in in the thread, his story is very complex and it's going to take some more research.
Very complex indeed, considering all of that. I have zero tolerance towards anyone physically abusing women.
Robinson intentionally does that to his wife, yet feels so bad about a fighter he accidentally killed in the ring. A twisted sense of logic for sure.
It is a very twisted sense of logic, and of course the victims are the one's that matter. It gets hard at times to enjoy this sport and it's history, some of these guys are pretty violent people outside the ring.
One last word about Ricky Hatton, he became one of my favorite fighters because of his body shots, they were brutal, and he threw everything he had into each shot. A body punch can be worse than a shot to the head, first of all, they hurt like hell, second of all they zap your opponents energy as a fight goes along and can take you out if they land hard enough. Often times, you'll see a guy take a body shot and he'll go down to one knee and not be able to get back up and continue. I love a good body puncher, I've bruised my ribs twice in my life, and it is some of the most agonizing pain I've ever had to deal with. It hurts when you breathe, it hurts when you move, it hurts when you sneeze, and you can't sleep on the side that your ribs are hurt, it's something that has to heal naturally and it takes weeks for the pain to go away, pure agony. Anyway, I'll never forget the body shot Ricky Hatton caught Jose Luis Castillo with, Castillo is a warrior, one heck of a fighter, and that body shot took him out instantly, broke his ribs.
Marcel Cerdan, middleweight, As a matter of fact, one of the greatest middleweights of all-time. His story is a tragedy, because he died in a plane crash on the way to the United States to fight a rematch with Jake Lamotta, "the raging bull." But in his prime, Marcel Cerdan was darn near unbeatable, 106-4 was his record, he beat the great Tony Zale the "man of steel", Holman Williams from the murderers row, Georgie Abrams, and would probably have beaten Jake Lamotta in the rematch, he was that great. He was a tremendously skilled boxer-puncher, his favorite combination was the forehand cross followed by a hook to the liver, he was tough as old leather boots, and I believe he would have beaten Lamotta the first time if he hadn't injured his shoulder in the first round, and surely would have won the rematch if he hadn't died in the plane crash, tragic story, he was only 33 years old. Watching him on film, he was a brutal fighter, he could crack with both hands, and could be very explosive. If you were going to beat him, you had to walk through fire to do it.
THE CAREER of one of Europe's great champions was interrupted by WWII and cut short when he was killed in a plane crash en route to America for a world title rematch. But while he was active, the Algerian-born Frenchman lost just four of 110 contest (two were by foul) and won European titles at 147 and 160 pounds, and a world title at 160.
Cerdan, known as the "Casablanca Clouter," and also known as "The Moroccan Bomber", was one of three fighting Cerdan sons. He turned pro at 18 in 1934. And with the exception of two losses by disqualification, he never saw an opponent's hand raised in victory until May 23, 1948, his 105th bout; a narrow 15-round decision loss to Cyrille Delannoit, which he avenged two months later.
He ran his unbeaten streak as a professional to 46-0, until he was disqualified in the fifth-round against Englishman Harry Craster on Jan. 9, 1939 in London. Four bouts and six weeks later Cerdan beat his first world ranked opponent, Saverio Turiello in a welterweight contest in Paris. Then he beat Turiello again, this time for the European welterweight crown in June.
With the outbreak of WWII and the early fall of France, Cerdan didn't resume his career until 1941 in North Africa. But by the end of the year he was back fighting on the mainland, which was occupied by Germany. A disqualification loss to Victor Buttin, who he later knocked out, is the only blemish in his 28 fights from 1941-44. He continued his winning ways through the next two years, including wins over world-ranked middleweights Holman Williams in Paris, and an impressive 10-round decision win over Georgie Abrams in his New York debut.
In 1947 he won the vacant European middleweight title and, with the exception of the points loss to Delannoit, cruised toward his title shot with world champion Tony Zale. On Sept. 21, 1948 in Jersey City, New Jersey, the 33-year-old challenger dominated the "Man of Steel" and scored a 12th-round TKO for world honors. After two non-title wins in 1949, he lost the crown on June 16, to fellow Hall-of-Famer Jake LaMotta, via 10th-round TKO. Cerdan, who injured his shoulder when the two fell to the canvas during a first-round scuffle, fought one-armed, until he retired in his corner after the 10th.
En route to America for the rematch later that fall, he was killed when his plane crashed.
Marcel Cerdan vs Tony Zale, the "man of steel". For Cerdan to be able to stop Zale just shows you what Cerdan was made of, Zale is a god in the sport, Zale had three of the most brutal fights in history with Rocky Graziano, fights that left Graziano scarred for life, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Tony Zale had that effect on people, his nickname the "man of steel" was very fitting, hd was known for being able to take vicious beatings from his opponents only to turn the tide and stop his opponent. Zale was the best body puncher in boxing history, Billy Soose once said getting hit by Zale in the ribs felt like being stuck with a hot poker. Anyway, Marcel Cerdan stopped Tony Zale, that's how great Cerdan was, like I said, Cerdan was darn near unbeatable in his prime.
Marcel Cerdan vs Holman Williams. Holman Williams was a boxing genius, he taught the great Joe Louis a lot, Louis credited Holman Williams with helping him develop his jab, and Louis once called Williams the perfect fighter. Holman Williams was one of the infamous Black murderers row, a group of phenomenal Black fighters from the 1940s that never got a shot at a title because of the color of their skin and in part because they were feared, they were so good that they had the potential to beat anyone on any given night. Other members of the murderers row were Charley Burley, Cocoa Kid, Eddie Booker, Lloyd Marshall, Elmer "violent" Ray, Jack Chase, Aaron "little tiger" Wade, and Bert Lytell, all phenomenal fighters.
Holman Williams and Marcel Cerdan on a rooftop before their fight.
Marcel Cerdan was able to outpoint the great Holman Williams when they fought in Paris France.
Marcel Cerdan fought Jake Lamotta in 1949, it would be his last professional fight ever. Jake Lamotta, "the raging bull", was one of the most brutal men in the history of boxing, he was only knocked down once in his entire career, Jake Lamotta probably had the greatest chin in boxing history, and Marvin Hagler, I would put Hagler right there with Lamotta for the greatest chins, they would take your best shots and just smile at you. Of course Jake Lamotta was the subject of the movie "The Raging Bull" starring Robert De Niro. Lamotta was a brutal man, he was nicknamed the raging bull because that's how he fought, like an angry bull. People like to say that the athletes of back then couldn't hang with the guys today because of the advanced training methods, well bullsh.. to that, Jake Lamotta was a monster, as was Cerdan. Anyway, Cerdan's last fight was in 1949 against Jake Lamotta, LaMotta won the World Middleweight title on June 16, 1949, in Detroit, Michigan, defeating Marcel Cerdan. LaMotta won the first round (in which he knocked Cerdan down), Cerdan won the second, and the third was even. At that point it became clear something was wrong. Cerdan dislocated his arm in the first round, apparently damaged in the knockdown, and gave up before the start of the 10th round. LaMotta damaged his left hand in the fifth round, but still landed 104 punches in the ninth round, whereas Cerdan hardly threw a punch. The official score had LaMotta as winner by a knockout in 10 rounds because the bell had already rung to begin that round when Cerdan announced he was quitting. A rematch was arranged, but while Cerdan was flying back to the United States to fight the rematch, his Air France Lockheed Constellation crashed in the Azores, killing everyone on board.
It's a real tragedy that Marcel Cerdan and the other passengers passed away in the plane crash, Cerdan was already a legend and one of the greatest pound for pound fighters in history, but it would have been interesting to see how his career played out, there was also talks about a potential fight with Sugar Ray Robinson later on, that would have been something.
Henry Armstrong, known as "Homicide Hank", I really don't even know where to begin with him. A lot of people consider Henry Armstrong to be the greatest pound for pound fighter that ever lived, he was the first and only person to hold World Championships in three weight divisions at the same time, simultaneously, and this is back when they only had one belt for each weight division. If that isn't dominance, then I don't know what is. You want to talk about the pressure fighter from hell, he would be in your chest from the opening bell to the finish, and you couldn't get him off of you, you couldn't get away from him. He would come out, wading towards you, bobbing and weaving, and cut off the ring, pressure his opponent and start hammering away at you. To watch him operate is a thing of beauty, guys just couldn't get away from him, he was right there all over you the entire time, slowly and methodically chipping away at you until he broke you down. He was a master at using his body to smother his opponents attacks, he used his shoulders and elbows and gave you no openings. His head movement was also unreal, it was impossible to time him while trying to deal with his constant pressure. He also had an unbreakable chin, so if you did get off your offense, it didn't do much good. Offensively, he didn't focus on outboxing opponents, he tried to overwhelm them with amazing workrate. He attacked the body a lot and there was no defense against that. I've never seen a pressure fighter that was harder to move off an opponents chest as Armstrong, it might be his strong legs, but he also was a master at using his shoulder to unbalance his opponent to prevent them from getting any leverage on him. He was a genius in the trenches and better at fighting his style of fight against all opposition than almost anyone you could name. His head positioning when he gets inside, alternating from having his head tight to the guys chest when digging to the body, to the opposite shoulder to the side he punches, he'd hold onto the elbow to stop you punching or pushing on the side he had his head on, obviously only effective because of the old style gloves.
He would step on your shoes on the inside too, doing everything he can to keep you where you are. It's a different kind of pressure that probably wouldn't be effective today, an amazing fighter, a very complex, well oiled fighting machine. He’s wasn't some ‘face fighter’ who wades in taking two to land three. He knew how to get where he wanted to get, what to do when he got there and, most importantly, how to stay there so the opponent couldn't get away, and he had strong legs so you weren't going to back him up, he knew how to force you into the position he wanted you to be in and keep you there. On top of that, he had endless stamina, so he could go the distance with you no problem, and he tossed punches at you incessantly from all angles.
Historian Tracy Callis, who saw Armstrong fight, said that he was, “A relentless, aggressive, attacking fighter, Armstrong had several nicknames - "Perpetual Motion," "Homicide Hank," the "Human Buzzsaw," and "Hurricane Henry." He carried a stiff punch, took a good blow, applied constant pressure, and had incredible stamina. From 1937 to late 1940, he lost only one fight - to Lou Ambers - for the Lightweight title (in 1939). His record (against topflight competition) during this time was 59-1-1 with 51 knockouts. He scored 27 straight knockouts during 1937-1938.” Armstrong who merited his colorful nicknames for his non-stop windmill attacking style, was one of boxing’s greatest pound for pound fighters. Pressuring his opponents from the gong of the first bell, his plan of attack was designed to force his opponents into mistakes while he banged away with both hands to the head and body with a torrent of blows. Veteran boxing observer, Tony Kelly, Ring, Feb 1938, said that Armstrong “sets the most killing pace I’ve ever seen.” Armstrong was a marvel of the ring. He worked at a fast pace, had quick hands and unlike most fighters seemed to pick up speed as the rounds went on. He was also a strong puncher and defensively his bob and weave style kept him from receiving the full impact of his opponent’s blows.
Nat Fleischer wrote (Aug 1938 Ring) that, “Henry is able to avoid severe punishment by his continuous rushing tactics in which he gives an opponent little opportunity to think of anything but to protect himself against the murderous assault.”
What really made Armstrong fascinating to watch is the way his opponents were helpless to escape him, it was as if he and his opponent were attached together by a rubber band, his opponent would back up and Armstrong would be right there, and the way he smothered his opponents attacks, and slowly chipped away at them, methodically breaking them down, they were helpless. It is a thing of beauty to watch him operate.
He was 'Homicide Hank' for a reason
Henry Armstrong, a 5-foot-5½ buzzsaw, accomplished what no fighter before or since has ever been able to do -- he simultaneously held three world titles. And he managed this unique feat before inflation hit boxing, back when there were only eight weight classes with no junior-this or super-that divisions.
Armstrong had a 151-21-9 record in his 15-year professional career. With his aggressive attitude and incessant windmill style, he was all over opponents, as evidenced by his 101 knockouts and his nickname of Homicide Hank.
Henry Armstrong turned pro after failing to make the 1932 U.S. Olympic team ... and he promptly lost his first two pro fights.
As welterweight champion, Armstrong made his mark by successfully defending his title 19 times in less than two years. But it was his triple crown, accomplished in a 10-month period in the late 1930s, that gained him everlasting fame.
First, he knocked out featherweight champion Petey Sarron in the sixth round on Oct. 29, 1937. He won 14 fights before bypassing the lightweight title and challenging welterweight champion Barney Ross for his crown on May 31, 1938. It was no contest, with Armstrong's rapid-fire attack overwhelming Ross to gain the 15-round decision.
Taking away Lou Ambers' lightweight crown on Aug. 17, 1938 in Madison Square Garden proved more difficult. Ambers had Armstrong spitting blood from a torn bottom lip, and he cut the challenger's eyes as well. Despite almost blacking out in the 15th round, Armstrong won a split decision to make history.
Born Henry Jackson on Dec. 12, 1912, in Columbus, Miss., he was the 11th of 15 children. His father, also named Henry, was a mix of Indian, Irish and black blood. His mother, America, was half-Cherokee Indian. When Armstrong was 4, the family moved to St. Louis. His mother died a year later, and he was raised by his grandmother. As a youngster, he got into neighborhood street fights. But there was a sensitive side, too, as he showed at his high school graduation when he read an original poem.
As an amateur Armstrong fought under the name of Melody Jackson. He quit his job working for the Missouri-Pacific Railroad, figuring he could make his fortune fighting for pay. His debut as an 18-year-old pro was inauspicious, as he was knocked out in the third round by Al Iovino on July 27, 1931, in Pennsylvania. It was one of only two knockouts Armstrong would suffer in his career. His next fight was four days later, and he won a six-round decision.
Armstrong moved to Los Angeles, where he resumed his amateur status. He teamed up with -- and took the surname of -- a trainer and former boxer named Henry Armstrong. He officially turned pro a year later after failing to make the 1932 Olympic team, and he lost his first two fights, both four-round decisions in Los Angeles in 1932. Boxing as a featherweight, he gained quite a bit of experience from 1933 to 1935, fighting 46 times, mostly in California and Mexico.
In 1936, he won something called the California-Mexico version of the world featherweight title, winning a 10-round decision from Baby Arizmendi, who had beaten him in their first two bouts. Legendary singer Al Jolson saw the fight and purchased Armstrong's contract. Jolson's front man was manager Eddie Mead, who showed the fighter the road to Title Town.
The next year was an incredible one for Armstrong as he fought 27 times -- and won all of them. Twenty-six of the bouts were ended by a knockout, including that of Sarron in their 126-pound fight.
But 1938 was an even better year for Armstrong, as he took the two more championships. Although Armstrong was outweighed by at least 15 pounds by Ross, he dominated their fight in Madison Square Garden, pounding the champion unmercifully for 11 rounds. "I carried him the last four rounds," Armstrong said. "I was asked to do it, and he thanked me."
Ten weeks later, Armstrong's fight with Ambers was a war. Armstrong knocked down the champ in the fifth and sixth rounds, but Ambers cut him severely. "If you spit any more blood on that floor," referee Billy Cavanaugh told Armstrong, "I'm going to stop this fight."
Armstrong had his cornermen remove his mouthpiece so he could swallow the blood flowing in his mouth the last five rounds. Despite losing three rounds on fouls, having both eyes cut and swollen, and needing 37 stitches later to close the wound inside his mouth, Armstrong won a split decision. He had fulfilled his goal -- he reigned as champion over three divisions.
But not for long. He voluntarily relinquished his featherweight crown, and the next August he lost the lightweight title back to Ambers on a unanimous decision. That fight, before 29,088 fans at Yankee Stadium, was another brawl as the fighters pounded each other for 15 rounds. Armstrong was penalized five rounds for low punches, and that cost him the fight as two officials had Ambers winning by only an 8-7 margin.
After the decision was announced, the second fight started; both managers and the New York State Athletic Commission were the participants. Mead was suspended 13 months after accusing commissioner Bill Brown of favoring Ambers. Al Weill, Ambers' manager, was suspended four months for his unsportsmanlike behavior.
On March 1, 1940, in Los Angeles, Armstrong sought to become the first-ever four-division champion when he attempted to wrest the middleweight crown from Ceferino Garcia, whom he had decisioned in a welterweight defense in 1938. Fighting true to form, Armstrong applied pressure throughout the bout. But Garcia shut the challenger's left eye and gained a draw, enabling him to keep the title.
Seven months later, a fading Armstrong finally lost his welterweight title after the 19 successful defenses, including six in 1940. Fritzie Zivic, a veteran journeyman best known for questionable tactics, worked Armstrong's eyes, which were scarred and vulnerable to cutting, and took a unanimous decision. Armstrong fared even worse in their rematch in 1941, suffering a 12th-round TKO. That was the last time Armstrong would fight for a championship.
After taking 16 months off, he came back and stayed around until 1945, fighting 49 times although he had lost most of his skill. He finally did beat Zivic, by decision in 1942, but Zivic was no longer champ. In 1943, Armstrong lost a 10-round decision to an up-and-coming Sugar Ray Robinson, who had idolized the three-division champion.
Armstrong's purses had totaled between $500,000 and $1 million, but most of the money was gone when the Hall of Famer retired at age 32. Armstrong won his most significant fight when he overcame alcoholism. He became an ordained Baptist minister in 1951. Returning to St. Louis, he founded the Henry Armstrong Youth Foundation and directed the Herbert Hoover Boys Club.
He died at age 75 on Oct. 24, 1988, in Los Angeles. After his death, his heart was found to be one-third larger than average. That didn't surprise anybody in boxing.
1938, Henry Armstrong takes the undisputed World Welterweight strap from the great Barney Ross, Armstrong no holds the featherweight and welterweight championships.
1938, Henry Armstrong takes the undisputed World Lightweight strap from Lou Ambers, Armstrong becomes the only man in boxing history to this day, to hold three undisputed World championships all at the same time, simultaneously, he is the undisputed World Featherweight, Welterweight, and Lightweight champion all at the same time, pure domination of the sport.
After the win over Ambers, the new triple champion Henry Armstrong successfully defended the welterweight title against future middleweight king, Ceferino Garcia. Heading into his Aug. 22, 1939 rematch with Ambers, Armstrong had won 46 consecutive fights, including seven consecutive successful defenses of the welterweight title.
But the streak ended when Ambers reclaimed the 135-pound title via 15-round decision. Armstrong, who by that time had relinquished the featherweight crown, ran off eight more welterweight defenses before challenging Garcia for the middleweight crown and an unprecedented fourth world title.
Although the March 1, 1940 bout held in Los Angeles against Ceferino Garcia was declared a draw, most ringsiders felt that Armstrong deserved the 10-round decision. Armstrong's straight ahead, wear-him-down style was very effective, but eventually such tactics begin to take a toll on the attacker.
After three more welterweight defenses and a non-title win over lightweight champ Lew Jenkins, he was dethroned by Fritzie Zivic, losing a 15-round decision Oct. 4, 1940. Zivic also prevailed in a Jan. 17 rematch, stopping Armstrong in the 12th round. Armstrong would finally get his win over Zivic, a 10-round decision in San Francisco, but it came Oct. 26, 1942, 15 months after he had lost the title to Freddie Cochrane. Fritzie Zivic was a brutal fighter, he fought dirty as hell and made no bones about it, elbows to the face, thumbs to the eyes, anything he could get away with, Fritzie Zivic was one vicious bastard.
Henry Armstrong after one of his encounters with Fritzie Zivic.
Henry Armstrong also beat Lew Jenkins, Lew Jenkins was known as the "Sweetwater Swatter" because he was was Sweetwater Texas, but also because he was a murderous puncher, Armstrong knocked him out, which is a testament to Armstrong's chin, Lew Jenkins could really bomb guys out.
Armstrong was no longer a championship fighter, but he still held his own against top-10 contenders. From 1943 until his retirement two years later he had 35 bouts, with an 11-5-1 record against top-10 competition.
After overcoming alcoholism, Armstrong enjoyed his retirement years, becoming an ordained Baptist minister. During Armstrong's reign, he had 101 knockouts, which is one of the highest total of KO's in boxing history, he was a master infighter and pressure fighter, you couldn't escape him, if you fought him you were going to be down in the trenches banging it out, taking loads of heavy fire. A beautiful style of fighting to watch, there was a method to his madness.
Onlookers watch Henry Armstrong hit the heavy bag.
Edwin Rosario aka "Chapo", Probably the hardest punching lightweight in boxing history. When asked who was the hardest puncher he faced, the great Julio Cesar Chavez replied, "Edwin Rosario, anywhere he hit me it hurt." I remember when Edwin Rosario caught the great Hector Camacho with a left hook, didn't knock him out, but it changed Camacho for the rest of his career, he became more of a defensive fighter after tasting Rosario's power, it put the fear of god into him, he didn't ever want to get hit like that again so he was a lot more defensive minded in his approach. Edwin Rosario had that effect on people, he was always a threat in any fight, because all it took was one well placed punch and it was lights out. He was a very good boxer- puncher, he was great at creating angles to hit and not be hit, he could box if he wanted to, but he fell in love with his power, which is understandable considering he hit like a mule kicks.
I liked Hector Camacho, he was one hell of a fighter, very fast hands, threw punches in wicked combinations, he was very cocky, but he could back it up. I liked Rosario as well, there's nothing like a murderous puncher, they're a fascinating breed. To his credit, Camacho walked through pure hell to beat Edwin Rosario, but that fight changed Camacho, he became a very cautious fighter afterwards, Rosario really cracked him good a few times. In round five Rosario connected with a left to the chin as Camacho was getting ready to fire a right hand, and Camacho's knees buckled. On the verge of falling, Camacho took his distance for the rest of the round, and Rosario continued on pursue, landing other damaging blows. Rounds six to ten were dominated by Camacho (out of a possible fifteen combined rounds, as three judges were scoring the fight, Rosario was given only one round between rounds six and ten by one judge).
In round eleven, Rosario hurt Camacho again, with a left hook through Camacho's guard, Hector fled around the ring to avoid Rosario's punches. Rosario continued landing in round twelve, also sweeping the round on all judges' cards. Minutes later, Camacho was announced as winner and still WBC world Lightweight champion by a split decision: judge: Tony Castellano 115-113 | judge: Luis Rivera 113-114 | judge: Stuart Kirshenbaum 115-113. The fight's result proved controversial, Puerto Ricans and other boxing fans who saw the fight have argued about the scoring ever since.
Fight of His Life: Hector Camacho, Edwin Rosario and a Memorable Night in NYC
Draped in a glittery, Puerto Rican-flag-inspired red, white and blue robed sartorial splendor that was said to have cost $8,000 in 1986 money, Hector "Macho" Camacho walked to the ring in New York's famed Madison Square Garden like he was strolling in Central Park.
If he had a concern in the world, it certainly wasn't written on his expressive face.
Across the ring stood Edwin Rosario. The two men were born just 15 minutes and a single year apart in Puerto Rican ghettos, competed in the same sport and in the same weight class, but somehow still seem separated by a million miles. Mike Tyson and Julio Cesar Chavez were on the undercard, but nothing could overshadow the main event, at least not in New York that night.
Although the crowd was a disappointing 10,615, it was 10,615 people who cared about this fight more than anything else in the world.
Camacho was brash, young and full of himself. Sporting a tiny spit curl in front and a tiny rattail in back, Camacho danced and strutted his way to fame, looking every bit the cast member of Grease. Rosario, in turn, was a taciturn and serious professional. Despite being just 23, he carried himself with the gravitas of a much older man, his Tom Selleck-style mustache making him look like an aged veteran, not a young man on the rise, a young man not amused by Camacho's pre-fight hijinks.
Camacho would later say that Rosario fought like a man with a grudge, and if true, who could possibly blame him? Before the fight, Camacho waged a psychological war with his fellow Puerto Rican, calling him a girl and throwing a napkin in his face at a press conference. Later, as the two made a public appearance together to "KO Crack," Camacho again tossed paper in Rosario's face. The former champion stormed off.
The "Macho Man," quickly becoming one of boxing's great characters, just laughed.
He topped all his previous tomfoolery on the day of the fight, buying a pair of lacy red panties and having them, and his autograph, sent to Rosario's room. To ensure his opponent would open his gift, Camacho had the box addressed as if it had come from the Governor of Puerto Rico.
In Renaissance France, a duel to the death might have followed that kind of slight. On June 13, 1986, what followed in the ring was nearly as brutal at times, the two men battling for personal and national pride. A far cry from the defensive fighter he would become, some say as the result of this fight, Camacho went to war with Rosario in the early going—and paid the price.
In the fifth round, a left hook seemed to startle Camacho, who for the first time in his professional career was in real trouble. Rosario swarmed to the body, but especially to the head, like a man possessed. Two minutes remained in the round, a seemingly impossible amount of time for a staggered champion. But somehow, some way, Camacho weathered the storm and earned his nickname under fire. Macho was more than a gimmick.
"He hit me. Wham! Wham!" Camacho told Sports Illustrated after the fight. "I say, Damn, it doesn't hurt, but it sure feels funny. Wham! Damn! I fought a war and I can tell you right now, Hector Camacho don't like no damn wars."
The partisan Puerto Rican crowd was split down the middle. Camacho was one of the sport's top rising stars and had grown up in New York's Spanish Harlem. But Rosario was closer to the ideal warrior that fans from the island embraced, and there was something a little too Hollywood about Camacho, even then, for many fans' tastes.
Camacho, training out of Florida, felt the tension a bit, letting his facade of indifference slip to The New York Times:
"I spent $7,800 on tickets that I gave away. And some of those bums I gave free tickets to came to see me get knocked out," Camacho told the newspaper.
Those fans would have to live with the disappointment. Rosario's failure to finish emboldened Camacho. He controlled the middle of the fight with fast feet, a steady jab and a couple of low blows that took the fight out of Rosario, who seemed to have spent himself in the fifth trying to batter Camacho senseless.
"You got to give it to Camacho," "Sugar" Ray Leonard said on the HBO broadcast. "The kid can fight."
As Camacho was busy winning the fight, however, he was losing the crowd in turn:
Between these two perilous rounds, Camacho managed to outbox Rosario, repeatedly beating him to the punch as he circled (Rosario). Camacho's stick-and-move tactics impressed the judges...But for a fighter nicknamed ''Macho,'' the winner fought a careful and strategic fight, clearly intent on not going toe-to-toe with Rosario. It was that conservative plan, against Rosario's bombs-away approach, that probably tilted the crowd toward Rosario.
In the 11th round, Rosario gave up any pretense of defense, walking straight forward and attempting to pressure Camacho into a mistake. With 50 seconds remaining, the stratagem paid off. Rosario clipped him with another left hook and a right hand down the middle. On wobbly legs, once again Camacho survived, battling through the 12th and final round as the crowd exploded in pandemonium. Rosario's corner carried him around the ring in triumph, while Camacho raised both hands in victory.
The final punch stats were a mirror image of the fighters' personalities. The flashy Camacho threw nearly twice as many punches as Rosario, but much of that was sizzle. The two landed almost an identical number, with Rosario's power punches in the fifth and 11th outclassing anything Camacho managed in the bout.
The two embraced before the decision was read as the crowd chanted "Chapo" in honor of Rosario, who finished the fight strong. One judge saw it Rosario's way, giving him 10-8 rounds for both the fifth and 11th and a final tally of 114-113 in his favor. Two other judges, Stuart Kirshenbaum and Tony Castellano, awarded the fight to the champion, a relieved "Macho."
Camacho would eventually need three stitches to close a cut over his eye, but it was his psyche that was damaged the most. The crowd booed lustily, at least as loud as they had cheered his elaborate entrance. But, for "Macho," the fight changed everything.
Promoter Lou Duva believed the fight with Rosario destroyed Camacho's killer instincts. His fear of a repeat performance, of a punch as solid as Rosario's left hooks, had changed his entire style—and not for the better. According to Vinny Pazienza biographer Tommy Jon Caduto in "Fight or Die: The Vinny Paz Story":
Lou felt he lost his swagger...he never seemed to recover from that. Lou and others felt that he had lost his greatness that night and it never returned. He turned into a runner as a result of that left hook and refused to stay in the pocket, forfeiting his punching power, just happy to win fights on his skill and craftiness.
Pazienza couldn't capitalize on Camacho's failings as a fighter, but their 1990 fight clearly demonstrated the new matador style Camacho employed in the ring. Rosario wasn't yet done, either, coming back immediately after the Camacho loss to beat Livingstone Bramble for the WBA version of the title.
But for both men—Camacho in victory and Rosario in defeat—that June night in 1986 was their apex, an artistic triumph. At 23 and 24 years of age, respectively, they had peaked. In the end, the allure of drugs and life on the edge was too strong for both. For Camacho, partying was his vice. For Rosario, it was cockfighting, a sport he had grown up with, which was still legal in Puerto Rico.
In the twilight of their lives, both were embarrassed by public battles with alcohol and drugs. Rosario was arrested in Puerto Rico for stealing beer from a grocery store. His life continued spiraling out of control, and he spent a year in prison. His wife, possessions, money and pride were all gone when he got out, as well as five years of his Hall of Fame career.
Camacho, who continued fighting into his late 40s, had his own public battles with drugs and the law. In addition to domestic disputes and child-abuse charges, in 2004, Camacho plummeted through the glass ceiling of a computer-repair store to retrieve his laptop, causing $13,000 in damages. After urinating in the store, he left with $5,600 in cash and checks, eventually pleading guilty to the charge.
Early this week, he was shot in the head in Puerto Rico and was taken off life support on Saturday, Nov. 24, according to ESPN. Rosario, on a parallel path, was found dead in his bedroom in 1997 in the midst of a brief comeback. Investigators believed drugs to be a culprit in his demise.
Despite the somber ends, the 1986 fight remains a testament to both men. Before the drugs and the force of fame started them on the path to oblivion, there was only boxing. For one night, at least, both men were the pure embodiments of their art. That is the Camacho and Rosario worth remembering.
In 1986 Edwin Rosario fought Livingstone Bramble, this was supposed to be a good fight because Bramble had beaten the great Ray Mancini and was a good fighter, in fact he pretty much ended the career of the great Ray Mancini. I remember Livingstone Bramble very well, it's hard to forget him, he was from the Virgin Islands and was sort of an oddity, he trained with a pet boa constrictor snake named "Dog", and I remember before he fought Ray Mancini, he hired a witch doctor from the Virgin Islands to put a curse on Mancini.
Anyway, Rosario vs Bramble was supposed to be a good fight because Bramble beat Ray Mancini which was no easy feat. But like I said, Rosario was always a threat because of his power, and that threat reared it's ugly head against Bramble.
On This Day: Edwin Rosario scores monumental upset by savaging the supposedly immoveable Livingstone Bramble in two rounds
Edwin Rosario's erratic nature defined him. A fighter who could savage unsuspecting champions when they least expected it. A fighter who could fall short when victory was predicted. Livingstone Bramble was deemed an immoveable object after effectively ending the career of Ray Mancini and, at the time of accepting Rosario’s challenge, was the highly-regarded WBA lightweight boss named by some as one of the best fighters in the sport. Right on cue, with the odds stacked against him, Edwin the Ferocious turned up. After a quiet opening round, the Puerto Rican scored with a blazing left hook in the second. Bramble stood tall but could not keep Rosario off him. A right hand soon dropped Bramble for the count. Rosario’s victory was such big news in America that Ring Magazine opted to go with a photo of Edwin celebrating on their front cover instead of Lloyd Honeyghan’s win over Donald Curry (that occurred on the same weekend).
Sadly Edwin Rosario passed away at home in his sleep at the young age of 34, he will always be one of my all-time favorites. I must admit, I've always been fascinated with guys that hit really hard, I think most boxing fans are, hard punchers are a special breed, you can't teach it, either you're born with it or you're not. Guys that can crack are always fun to watch because they can turn a fight around with one swing, a guy could be getting his a.. kicked for 12 rounds, and then he lands one shot and wins. Edwin Rosario is ranked number 36 on Ring magazines 100 hardest punchers list, personally I think he should be ranked higher.
Comments
Yes, that is a very well known story. Sugar Ray Robinson is considered by many, including myself, to be the greatest pound for pound fighter that ever lived. But his story is bittersweet and it's really hard to be a fan of him because he was a really a horrible person outside the ring, he beat the crap out of his wife Edna Mae, and it is rumored to have caused her to have miscarriages, I don't know if that part is true or not. It's a sad story, he was such a genius in the ring, but a real piece of garbage outside of it to his family. Maybe it was the result of so many fights, I don't know, maybe it was a different time, when people thought it wasn't a big deal to abuse your wife, whatever the reason, it's a really sad story. The video you posted was about the Jimmy Doyle fight, and Jimmy Doyle did end up dying from that fight, it is a very eerie thing, and Sugar Ray Robinson did struggle with it afterward, as a matter of fact, I read that he came to resent the boxing business because of it, but continued to fight because he was so good at it and it made him money. Anyway, I'll be covering him later in in the thread, his story is very complex and it's going to take some more research.
Very complex indeed, considering all of that. I have zero tolerance towards anyone physically abusing women.
Robinson intentionally does that to his wife, yet feels so bad about a fighter he accidentally killed in the ring. A twisted sense of logic for sure.
It is a very twisted sense of logic, and of course the victims are the one's that matter. It gets hard at times to enjoy this sport and it's history, some of these guys are pretty violent people outside the ring.
One last word about Ricky Hatton, he became one of my favorite fighters because of his body shots, they were brutal, and he threw everything he had into each shot. A body punch can be worse than a shot to the head, first of all, they hurt like hell, second of all they zap your opponents energy as a fight goes along and can take you out if they land hard enough. Often times, you'll see a guy take a body shot and he'll go down to one knee and not be able to get back up and continue. I love a good body puncher, I've bruised my ribs twice in my life, and it is some of the most agonizing pain I've ever had to deal with. It hurts when you breathe, it hurts when you move, it hurts when you sneeze, and you can't sleep on the side that your ribs are hurt, it's something that has to heal naturally and it takes weeks for the pain to go away, pure agony. Anyway, I'll never forget the body shot Ricky Hatton caught Jose Luis Castillo with, Castillo is a warrior, one heck of a fighter, and that body shot took him out instantly, broke his ribs.
Ricky Hatton, routes to the body.
Marcel Cerdan, middleweight, As a matter of fact, one of the greatest middleweights of all-time. His story is a tragedy, because he died in a plane crash on the way to the United States to fight a rematch with Jake Lamotta, "the raging bull." But in his prime, Marcel Cerdan was darn near unbeatable, 106-4 was his record, he beat the great Tony Zale the "man of steel", Holman Williams from the murderers row, Georgie Abrams, and would probably have beaten Jake Lamotta in the rematch, he was that great. He was a tremendously skilled boxer-puncher, his favorite combination was the forehand cross followed by a hook to the liver, he was tough as old leather boots, and I believe he would have beaten Lamotta the first time if he hadn't injured his shoulder in the first round, and surely would have won the rematch if he hadn't died in the plane crash, tragic story, he was only 33 years old. Watching him on film, he was a brutal fighter, he could crack with both hands, and could be very explosive. If you were going to beat him, you had to walk through fire to do it.
THE CAREER of one of Europe's great champions was interrupted by WWII and cut short when he was killed in a plane crash en route to America for a world title rematch. But while he was active, the Algerian-born Frenchman lost just four of 110 contest (two were by foul) and won European titles at 147 and 160 pounds, and a world title at 160.
Cerdan, known as the "Casablanca Clouter," and also known as "The Moroccan Bomber", was one of three fighting Cerdan sons. He turned pro at 18 in 1934. And with the exception of two losses by disqualification, he never saw an opponent's hand raised in victory until May 23, 1948, his 105th bout; a narrow 15-round decision loss to Cyrille Delannoit, which he avenged two months later.
He ran his unbeaten streak as a professional to 46-0, until he was disqualified in the fifth-round against Englishman Harry Craster on Jan. 9, 1939 in London. Four bouts and six weeks later Cerdan beat his first world ranked opponent, Saverio Turiello in a welterweight contest in Paris. Then he beat Turiello again, this time for the European welterweight crown in June.
With the outbreak of WWII and the early fall of France, Cerdan didn't resume his career until 1941 in North Africa. But by the end of the year he was back fighting on the mainland, which was occupied by Germany. A disqualification loss to Victor Buttin, who he later knocked out, is the only blemish in his 28 fights from 1941-44. He continued his winning ways through the next two years, including wins over world-ranked middleweights Holman Williams in Paris, and an impressive 10-round decision win over Georgie Abrams in his New York debut.
In 1947 he won the vacant European middleweight title and, with the exception of the points loss to Delannoit, cruised toward his title shot with world champion Tony Zale. On Sept. 21, 1948 in Jersey City, New Jersey, the 33-year-old challenger dominated the "Man of Steel" and scored a 12th-round TKO for world honors. After two non-title wins in 1949, he lost the crown on June 16, to fellow Hall-of-Famer Jake LaMotta, via 10th-round TKO. Cerdan, who injured his shoulder when the two fell to the canvas during a first-round scuffle, fought one-armed, until he retired in his corner after the 10th.
En route to America for the rematch later that fall, he was killed when his plane crashed.
Marcel Cerdan vs Tony Zale, the "man of steel". For Cerdan to be able to stop Zale just shows you what Cerdan was made of, Zale is a god in the sport, Zale had three of the most brutal fights in history with Rocky Graziano, fights that left Graziano scarred for life, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Tony Zale had that effect on people, his nickname the "man of steel" was very fitting, hd was known for being able to take vicious beatings from his opponents only to turn the tide and stop his opponent. Zale was the best body puncher in boxing history, Billy Soose once said getting hit by Zale in the ribs felt like being stuck with a hot poker. Anyway, Marcel Cerdan stopped Tony Zale, that's how great Cerdan was, like I said, Cerdan was darn near unbeatable in his prime.
Cerdan vs Zale.
Cerdan vs Zale.
Marcel Cerdan stops Tony Zale.
Marcel Cerdan vs Holman Williams. Holman Williams was a boxing genius, he taught the great Joe Louis a lot, Louis credited Holman Williams with helping him develop his jab, and Louis once called Williams the perfect fighter. Holman Williams was one of the infamous Black murderers row, a group of phenomenal Black fighters from the 1940s that never got a shot at a title because of the color of their skin and in part because they were feared, they were so good that they had the potential to beat anyone on any given night. Other members of the murderers row were Charley Burley, Cocoa Kid, Eddie Booker, Lloyd Marshall, Elmer "violent" Ray, Jack Chase, Aaron "little tiger" Wade, and Bert Lytell, all phenomenal fighters.
Holman Williams and Marcel Cerdan on a rooftop before their fight.
Marcel Cerdan was able to outpoint the great Holman Williams when they fought in Paris France.
Like I said, Marcel Cerdan was almost unbeatable in his prime, he left a trail of destruction in route to his overall record of 106-4.
Marcel Cerdan, I've been looking to purchase the original type 1 photo of this image for quite some time.
Marcel Cerdan fought Jake Lamotta in 1949, it would be his last professional fight ever. Jake Lamotta, "the raging bull", was one of the most brutal men in the history of boxing, he was only knocked down once in his entire career, Jake Lamotta probably had the greatest chin in boxing history, and Marvin Hagler, I would put Hagler right there with Lamotta for the greatest chins, they would take your best shots and just smile at you. Of course Jake Lamotta was the subject of the movie "The Raging Bull" starring Robert De Niro. Lamotta was a brutal man, he was nicknamed the raging bull because that's how he fought, like an angry bull. People like to say that the athletes of back then couldn't hang with the guys today because of the advanced training methods, well bullsh.. to that, Jake Lamotta was a monster, as was Cerdan. Anyway, Cerdan's last fight was in 1949 against Jake Lamotta, LaMotta won the World Middleweight title on June 16, 1949, in Detroit, Michigan, defeating Marcel Cerdan. LaMotta won the first round (in which he knocked Cerdan down), Cerdan won the second, and the third was even. At that point it became clear something was wrong. Cerdan dislocated his arm in the first round, apparently damaged in the knockdown, and gave up before the start of the 10th round. LaMotta damaged his left hand in the fifth round, but still landed 104 punches in the ninth round, whereas Cerdan hardly threw a punch. The official score had LaMotta as winner by a knockout in 10 rounds because the bell had already rung to begin that round when Cerdan announced he was quitting. A rematch was arranged, but while Cerdan was flying back to the United States to fight the rematch, his Air France Lockheed Constellation crashed in the Azores, killing everyone on board.
Marcel Cerdan and Jake Lamotta before their fight
Cerdan vs Lamotta
It's a real tragedy that Marcel Cerdan and the other passengers passed away in the plane crash, Cerdan was already a legend and one of the greatest pound for pound fighters in history, but it would have been interesting to see how his career played out, there was also talks about a potential fight with Sugar Ray Robinson later on, that would have been something.
Marcel Cerdan in training
The hands of Marcel Cerdan.
Marcel Cerdan in his prime.
Henry Armstrong, known as "Homicide Hank", I really don't even know where to begin with him. A lot of people consider Henry Armstrong to be the greatest pound for pound fighter that ever lived, he was the first and only person to hold World Championships in three weight divisions at the same time, simultaneously, and this is back when they only had one belt for each weight division. If that isn't dominance, then I don't know what is. You want to talk about the pressure fighter from hell, he would be in your chest from the opening bell to the finish, and you couldn't get him off of you, you couldn't get away from him. He would come out, wading towards you, bobbing and weaving, and cut off the ring, pressure his opponent and start hammering away at you. To watch him operate is a thing of beauty, guys just couldn't get away from him, he was right there all over you the entire time, slowly and methodically chipping away at you until he broke you down. He was a master at using his body to smother his opponents attacks, he used his shoulders and elbows and gave you no openings. His head movement was also unreal, it was impossible to time him while trying to deal with his constant pressure. He also had an unbreakable chin, so if you did get off your offense, it didn't do much good. Offensively, he didn't focus on outboxing opponents, he tried to overwhelm them with amazing workrate. He attacked the body a lot and there was no defense against that. I've never seen a pressure fighter that was harder to move off an opponents chest as Armstrong, it might be his strong legs, but he also was a master at using his shoulder to unbalance his opponent to prevent them from getting any leverage on him. He was a genius in the trenches and better at fighting his style of fight against all opposition than almost anyone you could name. His head positioning when he gets inside, alternating from having his head tight to the guys chest when digging to the body, to the opposite shoulder to the side he punches, he'd hold onto the elbow to stop you punching or pushing on the side he had his head on, obviously only effective because of the old style gloves.
He would step on your shoes on the inside too, doing everything he can to keep you where you are. It's a different kind of pressure that probably wouldn't be effective today, an amazing fighter, a very complex, well oiled fighting machine. He’s wasn't some ‘face fighter’ who wades in taking two to land three. He knew how to get where he wanted to get, what to do when he got there and, most importantly, how to stay there so the opponent couldn't get away, and he had strong legs so you weren't going to back him up, he knew how to force you into the position he wanted you to be in and keep you there. On top of that, he had endless stamina, so he could go the distance with you no problem, and he tossed punches at you incessantly from all angles.
Historian Tracy Callis, who saw Armstrong fight, said that he was, “A relentless, aggressive, attacking fighter, Armstrong had several nicknames - "Perpetual Motion," "Homicide Hank," the "Human Buzzsaw," and "Hurricane Henry." He carried a stiff punch, took a good blow, applied constant pressure, and had incredible stamina. From 1937 to late 1940, he lost only one fight - to Lou Ambers - for the Lightweight title (in 1939). His record (against topflight competition) during this time was 59-1-1 with 51 knockouts. He scored 27 straight knockouts during 1937-1938.” Armstrong who merited his colorful nicknames for his non-stop windmill attacking style, was one of boxing’s greatest pound for pound fighters. Pressuring his opponents from the gong of the first bell, his plan of attack was designed to force his opponents into mistakes while he banged away with both hands to the head and body with a torrent of blows. Veteran boxing observer, Tony Kelly, Ring, Feb 1938, said that Armstrong “sets the most killing pace I’ve ever seen.” Armstrong was a marvel of the ring. He worked at a fast pace, had quick hands and unlike most fighters seemed to pick up speed as the rounds went on. He was also a strong puncher and defensively his bob and weave style kept him from receiving the full impact of his opponent’s blows.
Nat Fleischer wrote (Aug 1938 Ring) that, “Henry is able to avoid severe punishment by his continuous rushing tactics in which he gives an opponent little opportunity to think of anything but to protect himself against the murderous assault.”
What really made Armstrong fascinating to watch is the way his opponents were helpless to escape him, it was as if he and his opponent were attached together by a rubber band, his opponent would back up and Armstrong would be right there, and the way he smothered his opponents attacks, and slowly chipped away at them, methodically breaking them down, they were helpless. It is a thing of beauty to watch him operate.
He was 'Homicide Hank' for a reason
Henry Armstrong, a 5-foot-5½ buzzsaw, accomplished what no fighter before or since has ever been able to do -- he simultaneously held three world titles. And he managed this unique feat before inflation hit boxing, back when there were only eight weight classes with no junior-this or super-that divisions.
Armstrong had a 151-21-9 record in his 15-year professional career. With his aggressive attitude and incessant windmill style, he was all over opponents, as evidenced by his 101 knockouts and his nickname of Homicide Hank.
Henry Armstrong turned pro after failing to make the 1932 U.S. Olympic team ... and he promptly lost his first two pro fights.
As welterweight champion, Armstrong made his mark by successfully defending his title 19 times in less than two years. But it was his triple crown, accomplished in a 10-month period in the late 1930s, that gained him everlasting fame.
First, he knocked out featherweight champion Petey Sarron in the sixth round on Oct. 29, 1937. He won 14 fights before bypassing the lightweight title and challenging welterweight champion Barney Ross for his crown on May 31, 1938. It was no contest, with Armstrong's rapid-fire attack overwhelming Ross to gain the 15-round decision.
Taking away Lou Ambers' lightweight crown on Aug. 17, 1938 in Madison Square Garden proved more difficult. Ambers had Armstrong spitting blood from a torn bottom lip, and he cut the challenger's eyes as well. Despite almost blacking out in the 15th round, Armstrong won a split decision to make history.
Born Henry Jackson on Dec. 12, 1912, in Columbus, Miss., he was the 11th of 15 children. His father, also named Henry, was a mix of Indian, Irish and black blood. His mother, America, was half-Cherokee Indian. When Armstrong was 4, the family moved to St. Louis. His mother died a year later, and he was raised by his grandmother. As a youngster, he got into neighborhood street fights. But there was a sensitive side, too, as he showed at his high school graduation when he read an original poem.
As an amateur Armstrong fought under the name of Melody Jackson. He quit his job working for the Missouri-Pacific Railroad, figuring he could make his fortune fighting for pay. His debut as an 18-year-old pro was inauspicious, as he was knocked out in the third round by Al Iovino on July 27, 1931, in Pennsylvania. It was one of only two knockouts Armstrong would suffer in his career. His next fight was four days later, and he won a six-round decision.
Armstrong moved to Los Angeles, where he resumed his amateur status. He teamed up with -- and took the surname of -- a trainer and former boxer named Henry Armstrong. He officially turned pro a year later after failing to make the 1932 Olympic team, and he lost his first two fights, both four-round decisions in Los Angeles in 1932. Boxing as a featherweight, he gained quite a bit of experience from 1933 to 1935, fighting 46 times, mostly in California and Mexico.
In 1936, he won something called the California-Mexico version of the world featherweight title, winning a 10-round decision from Baby Arizmendi, who had beaten him in their first two bouts. Legendary singer Al Jolson saw the fight and purchased Armstrong's contract. Jolson's front man was manager Eddie Mead, who showed the fighter the road to Title Town.
The next year was an incredible one for Armstrong as he fought 27 times -- and won all of them. Twenty-six of the bouts were ended by a knockout, including that of Sarron in their 126-pound fight.
But 1938 was an even better year for Armstrong, as he took the two more championships. Although Armstrong was outweighed by at least 15 pounds by Ross, he dominated their fight in Madison Square Garden, pounding the champion unmercifully for 11 rounds. "I carried him the last four rounds," Armstrong said. "I was asked to do it, and he thanked me."
Ten weeks later, Armstrong's fight with Ambers was a war. Armstrong knocked down the champ in the fifth and sixth rounds, but Ambers cut him severely. "If you spit any more blood on that floor," referee Billy Cavanaugh told Armstrong, "I'm going to stop this fight."
Armstrong had his cornermen remove his mouthpiece so he could swallow the blood flowing in his mouth the last five rounds. Despite losing three rounds on fouls, having both eyes cut and swollen, and needing 37 stitches later to close the wound inside his mouth, Armstrong won a split decision. He had fulfilled his goal -- he reigned as champion over three divisions.
But not for long. He voluntarily relinquished his featherweight crown, and the next August he lost the lightweight title back to Ambers on a unanimous decision. That fight, before 29,088 fans at Yankee Stadium, was another brawl as the fighters pounded each other for 15 rounds. Armstrong was penalized five rounds for low punches, and that cost him the fight as two officials had Ambers winning by only an 8-7 margin.
After the decision was announced, the second fight started; both managers and the New York State Athletic Commission were the participants. Mead was suspended 13 months after accusing commissioner Bill Brown of favoring Ambers. Al Weill, Ambers' manager, was suspended four months for his unsportsmanlike behavior.
On March 1, 1940, in Los Angeles, Armstrong sought to become the first-ever four-division champion when he attempted to wrest the middleweight crown from Ceferino Garcia, whom he had decisioned in a welterweight defense in 1938. Fighting true to form, Armstrong applied pressure throughout the bout. But Garcia shut the challenger's left eye and gained a draw, enabling him to keep the title.
Seven months later, a fading Armstrong finally lost his welterweight title after the 19 successful defenses, including six in 1940. Fritzie Zivic, a veteran journeyman best known for questionable tactics, worked Armstrong's eyes, which were scarred and vulnerable to cutting, and took a unanimous decision. Armstrong fared even worse in their rematch in 1941, suffering a 12th-round TKO. That was the last time Armstrong would fight for a championship.
After taking 16 months off, he came back and stayed around until 1945, fighting 49 times although he had lost most of his skill. He finally did beat Zivic, by decision in 1942, but Zivic was no longer champ. In 1943, Armstrong lost a 10-round decision to an up-and-coming Sugar Ray Robinson, who had idolized the three-division champion.
Armstrong's purses had totaled between $500,000 and $1 million, but most of the money was gone when the Hall of Famer retired at age 32. Armstrong won his most significant fight when he overcame alcoholism. He became an ordained Baptist minister in 1951. Returning to St. Louis, he founded the Henry Armstrong Youth Foundation and directed the Herbert Hoover Boys Club.
He died at age 75 on Oct. 24, 1988, in Los Angeles. After his death, his heart was found to be one-third larger than average. That didn't surprise anybody in boxing.
1937, Henry Armstrong takes the World Featherweight strap from Petey Sarron, making him the undisputed World Featherweight champion.
Armstrong vs Sarron.
1938, Henry Armstrong takes the undisputed World Welterweight strap from the great Barney Ross, Armstrong no holds the featherweight and welterweight championships.
Armstrong vs Ross.
1938, Henry Armstrong takes the undisputed World Lightweight strap from Lou Ambers, Armstrong becomes the only man in boxing history to this day, to hold three undisputed World championships all at the same time, simultaneously, he is the undisputed World Featherweight, Welterweight, and Lightweight champion all at the same time, pure domination of the sport.
Armstrong vs Ambers.
Armstrong vs Ambers.
Armstrong vs Ambers.
After the win over Ambers, the new triple champion Henry Armstrong successfully defended the welterweight title against future middleweight king, Ceferino Garcia. Heading into his Aug. 22, 1939 rematch with Ambers, Armstrong had won 46 consecutive fights, including seven consecutive successful defenses of the welterweight title.
But the streak ended when Ambers reclaimed the 135-pound title via 15-round decision. Armstrong, who by that time had relinquished the featherweight crown, ran off eight more welterweight defenses before challenging Garcia for the middleweight crown and an unprecedented fourth world title.
Although the March 1, 1940 bout held in Los Angeles against Ceferino Garcia was declared a draw, most ringsiders felt that Armstrong deserved the 10-round decision. Armstrong's straight ahead, wear-him-down style was very effective, but eventually such tactics begin to take a toll on the attacker.
Henry Armstrong vs Ceferino Garcia.
After three more welterweight defenses and a non-title win over lightweight champ Lew Jenkins, he was dethroned by Fritzie Zivic, losing a 15-round decision Oct. 4, 1940. Zivic also prevailed in a Jan. 17 rematch, stopping Armstrong in the 12th round. Armstrong would finally get his win over Zivic, a 10-round decision in San Francisco, but it came Oct. 26, 1942, 15 months after he had lost the title to Freddie Cochrane. Fritzie Zivic was a brutal fighter, he fought dirty as hell and made no bones about it, elbows to the face, thumbs to the eyes, anything he could get away with, Fritzie Zivic was one vicious bastard.
Henry Armstrong after one of his encounters with Fritzie Zivic.
Henry Armstrong also beat Lew Jenkins, Lew Jenkins was known as the "Sweetwater Swatter" because he was was Sweetwater Texas, but also because he was a murderous puncher, Armstrong knocked him out, which is a testament to Armstrong's chin, Lew Jenkins could really bomb guys out.
Henry Armstrong and Lew Jenkins face off.
Henry Armstrong KO's Lew Jenkins.
Armstrong was no longer a championship fighter, but he still held his own against top-10 contenders. From 1943 until his retirement two years later he had 35 bouts, with an 11-5-1 record against top-10 competition.
After overcoming alcoholism, Armstrong enjoyed his retirement years, becoming an ordained Baptist minister. During Armstrong's reign, he had 101 knockouts, which is one of the highest total of KO's in boxing history, he was a master infighter and pressure fighter, you couldn't escape him, if you fought him you were going to be down in the trenches banging it out, taking loads of heavy fire. A beautiful style of fighting to watch, there was a method to his madness.
Onlookers watch Henry Armstrong hit the heavy bag.
The legendary Henry Armstrong.
Great book about Henry Armstrong.
Henry Armstrong in his prime.
Edwin Rosario aka "Chapo", Probably the hardest punching lightweight in boxing history. When asked who was the hardest puncher he faced, the great Julio Cesar Chavez replied, "Edwin Rosario, anywhere he hit me it hurt." I remember when Edwin Rosario caught the great Hector Camacho with a left hook, didn't knock him out, but it changed Camacho for the rest of his career, he became more of a defensive fighter after tasting Rosario's power, it put the fear of god into him, he didn't ever want to get hit like that again so he was a lot more defensive minded in his approach. Edwin Rosario had that effect on people, he was always a threat in any fight, because all it took was one well placed punch and it was lights out. He was a very good boxer- puncher, he was great at creating angles to hit and not be hit, he could box if he wanted to, but he fell in love with his power, which is understandable considering he hit like a mule kicks.
I liked Hector Camacho, he was one hell of a fighter, very fast hands, threw punches in wicked combinations, he was very cocky, but he could back it up. I liked Rosario as well, there's nothing like a murderous puncher, they're a fascinating breed. To his credit, Camacho walked through pure hell to beat Edwin Rosario, but that fight changed Camacho, he became a very cautious fighter afterwards, Rosario really cracked him good a few times. In round five Rosario connected with a left to the chin as Camacho was getting ready to fire a right hand, and Camacho's knees buckled. On the verge of falling, Camacho took his distance for the rest of the round, and Rosario continued on pursue, landing other damaging blows. Rounds six to ten were dominated by Camacho (out of a possible fifteen combined rounds, as three judges were scoring the fight, Rosario was given only one round between rounds six and ten by one judge).
In round eleven, Rosario hurt Camacho again, with a left hook through Camacho's guard, Hector fled around the ring to avoid Rosario's punches. Rosario continued landing in round twelve, also sweeping the round on all judges' cards. Minutes later, Camacho was announced as winner and still WBC world Lightweight champion by a split decision: judge: Tony Castellano 115-113 | judge: Luis Rivera 113-114 | judge: Stuart Kirshenbaum 115-113. The fight's result proved controversial, Puerto Ricans and other boxing fans who saw the fight have argued about the scoring ever since.
Fight of His Life: Hector Camacho, Edwin Rosario and a Memorable Night in NYC
Draped in a glittery, Puerto Rican-flag-inspired red, white and blue robed sartorial splendor that was said to have cost $8,000 in 1986 money, Hector "Macho" Camacho walked to the ring in New York's famed Madison Square Garden like he was strolling in Central Park.
If he had a concern in the world, it certainly wasn't written on his expressive face.
Across the ring stood Edwin Rosario. The two men were born just 15 minutes and a single year apart in Puerto Rican ghettos, competed in the same sport and in the same weight class, but somehow still seem separated by a million miles. Mike Tyson and Julio Cesar Chavez were on the undercard, but nothing could overshadow the main event, at least not in New York that night.
Although the crowd was a disappointing 10,615, it was 10,615 people who cared about this fight more than anything else in the world.
Camacho was brash, young and full of himself. Sporting a tiny spit curl in front and a tiny rattail in back, Camacho danced and strutted his way to fame, looking every bit the cast member of Grease. Rosario, in turn, was a taciturn and serious professional. Despite being just 23, he carried himself with the gravitas of a much older man, his Tom Selleck-style mustache making him look like an aged veteran, not a young man on the rise, a young man not amused by Camacho's pre-fight hijinks.
Camacho would later say that Rosario fought like a man with a grudge, and if true, who could possibly blame him? Before the fight, Camacho waged a psychological war with his fellow Puerto Rican, calling him a girl and throwing a napkin in his face at a press conference. Later, as the two made a public appearance together to "KO Crack," Camacho again tossed paper in Rosario's face. The former champion stormed off.
The "Macho Man," quickly becoming one of boxing's great characters, just laughed.
He topped all his previous tomfoolery on the day of the fight, buying a pair of lacy red panties and having them, and his autograph, sent to Rosario's room. To ensure his opponent would open his gift, Camacho had the box addressed as if it had come from the Governor of Puerto Rico.
In Renaissance France, a duel to the death might have followed that kind of slight. On June 13, 1986, what followed in the ring was nearly as brutal at times, the two men battling for personal and national pride. A far cry from the defensive fighter he would become, some say as the result of this fight, Camacho went to war with Rosario in the early going—and paid the price.
In the fifth round, a left hook seemed to startle Camacho, who for the first time in his professional career was in real trouble. Rosario swarmed to the body, but especially to the head, like a man possessed. Two minutes remained in the round, a seemingly impossible amount of time for a staggered champion. But somehow, some way, Camacho weathered the storm and earned his nickname under fire. Macho was more than a gimmick.
"He hit me. Wham! Wham!" Camacho told Sports Illustrated after the fight. "I say, Damn, it doesn't hurt, but it sure feels funny. Wham! Damn! I fought a war and I can tell you right now, Hector Camacho don't like no damn wars."
The partisan Puerto Rican crowd was split down the middle. Camacho was one of the sport's top rising stars and had grown up in New York's Spanish Harlem. But Rosario was closer to the ideal warrior that fans from the island embraced, and there was something a little too Hollywood about Camacho, even then, for many fans' tastes.
Camacho, training out of Florida, felt the tension a bit, letting his facade of indifference slip to The New York Times:
"I spent $7,800 on tickets that I gave away. And some of those bums I gave free tickets to came to see me get knocked out," Camacho told the newspaper.
Those fans would have to live with the disappointment. Rosario's failure to finish emboldened Camacho. He controlled the middle of the fight with fast feet, a steady jab and a couple of low blows that took the fight out of Rosario, who seemed to have spent himself in the fifth trying to batter Camacho senseless.
"You got to give it to Camacho," "Sugar" Ray Leonard said on the HBO broadcast. "The kid can fight."
As Camacho was busy winning the fight, however, he was losing the crowd in turn:
Between these two perilous rounds, Camacho managed to outbox Rosario, repeatedly beating him to the punch as he circled (Rosario). Camacho's stick-and-move tactics impressed the judges...But for a fighter nicknamed ''Macho,'' the winner fought a careful and strategic fight, clearly intent on not going toe-to-toe with Rosario. It was that conservative plan, against Rosario's bombs-away approach, that probably tilted the crowd toward Rosario.
In the 11th round, Rosario gave up any pretense of defense, walking straight forward and attempting to pressure Camacho into a mistake. With 50 seconds remaining, the stratagem paid off. Rosario clipped him with another left hook and a right hand down the middle. On wobbly legs, once again Camacho survived, battling through the 12th and final round as the crowd exploded in pandemonium. Rosario's corner carried him around the ring in triumph, while Camacho raised both hands in victory.
The final punch stats were a mirror image of the fighters' personalities. The flashy Camacho threw nearly twice as many punches as Rosario, but much of that was sizzle. The two landed almost an identical number, with Rosario's power punches in the fifth and 11th outclassing anything Camacho managed in the bout.
The two embraced before the decision was read as the crowd chanted "Chapo" in honor of Rosario, who finished the fight strong. One judge saw it Rosario's way, giving him 10-8 rounds for both the fifth and 11th and a final tally of 114-113 in his favor. Two other judges, Stuart Kirshenbaum and Tony Castellano, awarded the fight to the champion, a relieved "Macho."
Camacho would eventually need three stitches to close a cut over his eye, but it was his psyche that was damaged the most. The crowd booed lustily, at least as loud as they had cheered his elaborate entrance. But, for "Macho," the fight changed everything.
Promoter Lou Duva believed the fight with Rosario destroyed Camacho's killer instincts. His fear of a repeat performance, of a punch as solid as Rosario's left hooks, had changed his entire style—and not for the better. According to Vinny Pazienza biographer Tommy Jon Caduto in "Fight or Die: The Vinny Paz Story":
Lou felt he lost his swagger...he never seemed to recover from that. Lou and others felt that he had lost his greatness that night and it never returned. He turned into a runner as a result of that left hook and refused to stay in the pocket, forfeiting his punching power, just happy to win fights on his skill and craftiness.
Pazienza couldn't capitalize on Camacho's failings as a fighter, but their 1990 fight clearly demonstrated the new matador style Camacho employed in the ring. Rosario wasn't yet done, either, coming back immediately after the Camacho loss to beat Livingstone Bramble for the WBA version of the title.
But for both men—Camacho in victory and Rosario in defeat—that June night in 1986 was their apex, an artistic triumph. At 23 and 24 years of age, respectively, they had peaked. In the end, the allure of drugs and life on the edge was too strong for both. For Camacho, partying was his vice. For Rosario, it was cockfighting, a sport he had grown up with, which was still legal in Puerto Rico.
In the twilight of their lives, both were embarrassed by public battles with alcohol and drugs. Rosario was arrested in Puerto Rico for stealing beer from a grocery store. His life continued spiraling out of control, and he spent a year in prison. His wife, possessions, money and pride were all gone when he got out, as well as five years of his Hall of Fame career.
Camacho, who continued fighting into his late 40s, had his own public battles with drugs and the law. In addition to domestic disputes and child-abuse charges, in 2004, Camacho plummeted through the glass ceiling of a computer-repair store to retrieve his laptop, causing $13,000 in damages. After urinating in the store, he left with $5,600 in cash and checks, eventually pleading guilty to the charge.
Early this week, he was shot in the head in Puerto Rico and was taken off life support on Saturday, Nov. 24, according to ESPN. Rosario, on a parallel path, was found dead in his bedroom in 1997 in the midst of a brief comeback. Investigators believed drugs to be a culprit in his demise.
Despite the somber ends, the 1986 fight remains a testament to both men. Before the drugs and the force of fame started them on the path to oblivion, there was only boxing. For one night, at least, both men were the pure embodiments of their art. That is the Camacho and Rosario worth remembering.
In 1986 Edwin Rosario fought Livingstone Bramble, this was supposed to be a good fight because Bramble had beaten the great Ray Mancini and was a good fighter, in fact he pretty much ended the career of the great Ray Mancini. I remember Livingstone Bramble very well, it's hard to forget him, he was from the Virgin Islands and was sort of an oddity, he trained with a pet boa constrictor snake named "Dog", and I remember before he fought Ray Mancini, he hired a witch doctor from the Virgin Islands to put a curse on Mancini.
Livingstone Bramble.
Anyway, Rosario vs Bramble was supposed to be a good fight because Bramble beat Ray Mancini which was no easy feat. But like I said, Rosario was always a threat because of his power, and that threat reared it's ugly head against Bramble.
On This Day: Edwin Rosario scores monumental upset by savaging the supposedly immoveable Livingstone Bramble in two rounds
Edwin Rosario's erratic nature defined him. A fighter who could savage unsuspecting champions when they least expected it. A fighter who could fall short when victory was predicted. Livingstone Bramble was deemed an immoveable object after effectively ending the career of Ray Mancini and, at the time of accepting Rosario’s challenge, was the highly-regarded WBA lightweight boss named by some as one of the best fighters in the sport. Right on cue, with the odds stacked against him, Edwin the Ferocious turned up. After a quiet opening round, the Puerto Rican scored with a blazing left hook in the second. Bramble stood tall but could not keep Rosario off him. A right hand soon dropped Bramble for the count. Rosario’s victory was such big news in America that Ring Magazine opted to go with a photo of Edwin celebrating on their front cover instead of Lloyd Honeyghan’s win over Donald Curry (that occurred on the same weekend).
Sadly Edwin Rosario passed away at home in his sleep at the young age of 34, he will always be one of my all-time favorites. I must admit, I've always been fascinated with guys that hit really hard, I think most boxing fans are, hard punchers are a special breed, you can't teach it, either you're born with it or you're not. Guys that can crack are always fun to watch because they can turn a fight around with one swing, a guy could be getting his a.. kicked for 12 rounds, and then he lands one shot and wins. Edwin Rosario is ranked number 36 on Ring magazines 100 hardest punchers list, personally I think he should be ranked higher.
The great Edwin Rosario.
Edwin Rosario in the middle.
Edwin Rosario points his finger at a press conference.
Edwin "Chapo" Rosario.