11 THINGS WITH: Ike Williams, Lightweight World Champion.
''I don't get mad at the other fighter usually. Only time I ever really got mad was for the second [Bob] Montgomery fight. He said a lot of things about me in the newspapers. Even now, I don't care anything for him and he don't care nothing for me. I don't feel anything in the ring. If I hurt the other guy, I try to knock him out quick. I get a little mad when they run and hold. I figure the people paid their money to see a fight. When the people boo it worries the hell out of me.''
"My mother and father separated and my mother and I came North to Trenton. Trenton's my home since 1932. It was real tough. Just my mother and I, and she worked for a dollar a day when she could get work, and she was thankful to get it. She had to walk about three miles to and from work. Couldn't afford that ten cents for bus fare."
"My trainer manager Jesse Goss, he said, "C'mon, we're going to fight pro."
I was just sixteen years of age, just turning sixteen. The commissions were very lax then. I fought my first fight, I got ten dollars in New Brunswick. He took four, Gave me six. I was fighting main events when I was sixteen. Main events! I was in over my head. (But) I felt I'd get to the top eventually. I lost several fights coming up but every time I lost a fight I learned something. I've retained it until this day. Someday I expect maybe I'll find a young kid, I'll pass it on to him."
"Bob Montgomery beat Beau Jack in 1943 and Beau Jack fought him again a few months later and beat him. In between the third and final match I fought Montgomery. He knocked me out that night. No excuses. He knocked me out with eleven seconds to go. I was counted out cold. After he knocked me out, I was told he hollered over to his buddy, Johnny Hutchinson, because I had beaten Hutchinson, and Montgomery hollered over, "I got him for you, Hutch!"
"(Juan) Zurita, he was past due for a (title) defence so they named me as a contender and gave me a shot at it. Since I was a little kid, I envisioned being lightweight champion. I dreamed about the lightweight title and I finally won it. So I guess when I won it that night I probably leaped about five feet in the air. I knocked him out in the second round. It was a combination, I'll never forget it, it was a right hand to the body and a left on his chin. He went down for the full count."
"I was almost killed down there too (Mexico), for beating him. The Mexicans started throwing bricks and things. The cops, our bodyguards, two cops, (we) looked around, they were gone. Connie McCarthy (my manager), his head was split open with a brick. That's when the Mexican came up, he said, "Gimme the belt!"
I haven't seen the (championship) belt since that night, since April 18, 1945. I saw the belt for maybe five minutes. I haven't seen it since."
"Maybe it's down in Mexico City now. The fellow pulled a pistol out. He was going to kill all of us. So I said, "Give the man the damn belt!" They took the belt back. They drew a pistol on us and took the belt back. We made it to the dressing room. They followed us to the airport the next morning."
"I had Connie McCarthy, (He) was a good manager as far as the fighter go, but the man was a perpetual drunk. He was a sot. He stayed drunk every day. I said I'm going to get another manager or even do my own business. That's when he ran to the Boxing Guild. They started in 1946, to keep fighters "in line." Like, any fighter that tried to leave his manager, they were going to blackball him. That was the whole thing. The managers started it."
"World's champion and I couldn't get a fight! We went to (promoter) Herman Taylor in Philadelphia. At the time I'd fought for him 22 fights. But all of a sudden he said, "I can't use you." Because if he had, they'd have blackballed him. Jimmy White was the head of the Boxing Guild and Jimmy White said, "We're going to show just how powerful we are. We're going to stop Ike Williams from fighting." And he said, "Anybody that fights him, we're going to blackball them." So therefore I couldn't get a fight for seven, eight months."
"I was in as good a shape as I could possibly get in (for the return fight with Bob Montgomery). I knew his style and so forth and exactly what I wanted to do, just like getting up and in the mornings and washing your face. I caught him with the perfect right-hand punch. I learned this from the first fight, that when a fighter's in a crouch a fighter can't punch in a crouch. He has to come up. So I caught him coming right out of his crouch. He ran right into the punch. It was a perfect punch. He got up, but he was hurt bad. With a flurry of punches to the head and body, he fell halfway through the ropes. The referee was Charlie Daggart. Daggart counted him out. I was happy then. That was the biggest night of my life because I finally win the undisputed title and I got revenge over Montgomery."
"I fought (Enrique) Bolaños three times. I defended the title against him three times. But the third fight I fought the greatest fight I fought in my life. I felt like I could have fought forever. Jack Dempsey was the referee that night. I'd been beating Bolaños for 4 rounds, but the last punch was a right to the body. That's the last punch I hit him with. He went down slowly. He was as knocked out as any fighter ever was. That's the fight that I would have bet my life on that I would have whipped any lightweight that ever lived that night, the last fight with Bolaños. You go into training, you train and train and train for weeks and weeks and weeks, and you can't really tell what kind of condition you're in until the bell rings. You say, "I trained hard and I'm in perfect shape and I really feel good," but until the bell rings you can't really tell. Once the bell rings, then you can tell just what kind of condition you're in."
We lost two legends these past few weeks, George Chuvalo and Frank "The Animal" Fletcher. Of course Chuvalo was a rough, rugged heavyweight that fought for three decades, famous for his legendary chin, he was never knocked down in his entire career despite facing some murderous punchers. Fletcher was an action-packed middleweight in the 70s and 80s, a Philadelphia southpaw who built his reputation on aggression, toughness, and an almost relentless willingness to engage in a shootout. RIP to both of these legends.
What the heck, we'll go with George Chuvalo next. George Chuvalo, aka "The Iron Chin", was a legendary Canadian heavyweight who became famous for never being knocked down in any of his 93 professional fights. He fought the hardest hitters of his era—including Joe Frazier, George Foreman, Cleveland Williams, Floyd Patterson, and was never knocked down. He was only stopped twice (by Frazier and Foreman), both times via referee stoppage while remaining on his feet. He was a relentless, high-pressure slugger who walked through heavy fire and inflicted constant physical punishment to his opponents, a rough customer. Muhammad Ali famously called George Chuvalo "the toughest guy I ever fought" after their grueling 15-round heavyweight title fight at Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto on March 29, 1966. We'll start off with the 2011 Ringside Boxing Round Two - Turkey Red - Base - George Chuvalo.
You'll notice that under the stats section on the back of that card above, it says 64 KO's. George Chuvalo was a brutal puncher. His punches were like a sledgehammer, heavy, thudding blows. A brutal, brutal fighter.
2011 In The Game Canadiana - Between the Seams - Gold #1/1 - George Chuvalo. This is as close as I can get to an exact match for the image on this card.
And now it's time for the disappointments, the George Chuvalo cards with no available photos to match. The 2010 Leaf - Ali Opponents - Bronze - George Chuvalo. I have to say, 2010 Leaf - Ali Opponents is killing me with the images on these cards, I couldn't find any photos to match for the Joe Frazier cards in this set either.
2000 JF Sporting Collectibles - Heavyweight Contenders - George Chuvalo. Top row, middle card. I love this set. I apologize for not being able to find a better scan and a back scan, these cards can be difficult to find on their own.
Let's get a few photos of George Chuvalo in here. This is a photo of Chuvalo training in January 1958, doing his jogging roadwork in Toronto, very important for stamina.
George Chuvalo sends Jerry Quarry to the canvas in 1969. Great fight with a crazy ending. Quarry used quick combinations and movement to keep Chuvalo off balance. Chuvalo came forward, exhibited a good jab, and had his moments when he got on the inside with Quarry. Chuvalo's right eye began to swell in round 5, which became a grotesque lump by the time the fight was over. As round 7 was coming to a close, Quarry was knocked down by a left hook on the top of the head. He rose at the count of three, but decided to take a knee, he got up at the count of ten instead of nine and referee Zach Clayton declared the fight over at 2:59. Chuvalo caught Quarry with a left hook in the temple area. Quarry’s legs went rubbery. He completely lost his equilibrium (which is what temple shots do) and stumbled backwards to the canvas. He bounced up too quick and realized that he wasn’t all there. So he took a knee and decided to take a longer count to clear his head and didn't beat the count.
George Chuvalo fought for three decades, 50s, 60s, and 70s. Chuvalo's longevity owed much to his love of the raw nature of the sport.
"To me, boxing has always represented the purest and truest form of athletic competition. It's much more natural to fight than it is to play football or hockey. A caveman or an alien from another planet would understand boxing, but he sure as hell wouldn't understand golf or tennis. It's all about respect for power - and no other sport more clearly demonstrates one man's superiority over another. When a guy goes down for the 10 count and can't get back on his feet, everybody knows who won.''
Never knocked down in 93 fights, The Ring magazine once described him as a "bullet proof heavyweight." This bronze bust of George Chuvalo was created by the artist Gabrielle Fischer. Obviously, she knows about the legendary chin. Absolute masterpiece.
Trainer Teddy McWhorter working with George Chuvalo. McWhorter was famous for stepping directly into the ring to spar and interact with Chuvalo daily, supervising his roadwork, sleep habits, diet, and unique glove-pummeling drills.
Savage image of George Chuvalo during the fight with "Smokin' Joe" Frazier. Chuvalo fought both Frazier and George Foreman, they hit him with everything and the kitchen sink and could not get him off of his feet. He really was a bullet-proof heavyweight.
George Chuvalo lost the fight. But nobody ever broke him
Published: Sep. 16, 2026, 3:05 p.m.
Chuvalo
By: Jerry Izenberg
“That’s the trouble. They all collapse in the shower. Some day, somebody is gonna collapse in the ring. And George I gonna surprise a lot of people.”
... Ted McWhorter, George Chuvalo’s trainer.
“The scorecard had me winning 13-2 but don’t talk to me about no scorecard. George Chuvalo is the toughest guy I ever fought.”
... Muhammad Ali, who never expected a bleeding and wounded George Chuvalo to last all 15 rounds.
The toughest guy I ever saw in any ring in the Western Hemisphere died on Saturday at 89. His name was George Chuvalo. When the governor of Illinois chased a Muhammad Ali vs. Ernie Terrell fight out of Chicago and off the schedule, Ali went across the border to fight Chuvalo in Toronto.
Everyone laughed but Chuvalo. On the morning of the fight, Chuvalo met me for breakfast. The morning of a fight, most of them turn mean. A little thing, like the ring of a telephone, made them shout at their trainer, “Answer it. Damn, that’s what you get to do.”
But not Chuvalo. We did not know it then, but Chuvalo would go on to fight some of boxing’s greatest fighters — Ali, Joe Frazier and George Foreman — and be part of some of the sport’s most legendary defeats.
You could sense it, “I hear what they are saying around town,” he told me. “They don’t say it around me, but you can sense it. I don’t care what they say. Here was a man who had made $115 a week before the fight.”
The ring was the least of his problems.
“As a kid, that’s where I learned to fight. All I had to do was walk out the door,” Chuvalo said.
“I grew up hard. My old man, his arm was bad, but he was a skinner, the toughest, dirtiest job in the packing plant. He made $45 a week and my mom made 20 plucking chickens. There were bad kids on my block. I was too young to run with them. They stole and did a lot of bad things They called themselves the Junction Gang. A lot of them are still in the pen.”
Outside the ring, Chuvalo’s toughest fights came not from punches, but from life itself. Married to his high school sweetheart, Lynne, the couple raised five children. But addiction and grief tore through their family in waves of tragedy:
1977: Son Jesse died of a heroin overdose.
1985: Son Georgie Lee succumbed to the same fate.
1989: Overcome with grief, Lynne took her own life.
1993: Youngest son Steven also died by suicide after battling addiction.
Through all this, Chuvalo remained standing — battered by fate, but never broken. His surviving son, Mitch Chuvalo, went on to become an educator and advocate, helping others through lessons forged in their family’s pain.
From unbearable loss came a new mission. Chuvalo transformed his personal suffering into a crusade to save others. Traveling across Canada, he spoke in schools, prisons, and community centers about the dangers of drug abuse. His talks were raw, emotional, and brutally honest — the words of a father, not a preacher.
He paid his own expenses. Mitch often traveled with him. Chuvalo became one of Canada’s most visible anti-drug advocates, giving voice to grief, resilience, and redemption long before mental health awareness became a mainstream cause.
He won just two rounds that long-gone night, but at the finish, they stood toe to toe, exchanging punches with the crowd locked in a roaring, standing ovation. Ali left the ring sore and battered.
The next day, a British TV sportscaster cornered Ali’s trainer, Angelo Dundee and told him, “Worst fight I ever saw. I said all along it would be just that. Chuvalo can’t punch.”
“I do not know what you saw,” Dundee responded. “My guy won it on speed and controlling the ring but nobody in the joint could imagine it would go the full 15. Chuvalo never stopped coming forward, still trying. I don’t know about you, but it was a great fight for the crowd and they showed it. They paid their money and got what they paid for.”
The tough guy lost the fight. But when it came to how tough ‘tough’ was and the way Chuvalo endured and lived with the hand life dealt him, nobody ever laughed at Chuvalo again.
Sandy Saddler. Two-time world featherweight champion who also held the junior lightweight title. Widely regarded as one of the hardest-hitting punchers in boxing history, ranked #5 on The Ring magazine's list of the "100 Greatest Punchers of All Time". Finished his career with 144 wins, 16 losses, and 2 draws, including 104 knockouts. In possession of a granite-chin, he was only stopped once in his career, in his second professional fight. Famed for a legendary, fiercely competitive and often brutal four-fight series against defensive wizard Willie Pep, winning three of the four bouts. Sandy Saddler had an aggressive, unconventional, and notoriously rough boxing style characterized by a rare blend of a long, spindly build, devastating one-punch knockout power, and aggressive brawling style. Standing over 5 feet 8 inches, Saddler was unusually tall and rangy for a featherweight and junior lightweight, looking like a "rickety-looking beanpole" rather than a traditional muscular slugger. Despite his thin frame, his height and long arms gave him a major physical advantage over opponents. Born a natural left-hander, he converted to an orthodox (left-foot-forward) stance, which let him fire unique, awkward punches from strange angles. As previously mentioned, Saddler scored over 100 career knockouts—ranking among the highest knockout artists in boxing history—and was rated one of the greatest punchers of all time. His primary weapon was a destructive left hook that acted like a hybrid half-hook, half-uppercut, famously described by one reporter as slamming "like a barn door in a gale". Behind his power shots, he could also box cleverly using a long, damaging, and accurate left jab that never compromised his balance. Beyond clean boxing, Saddler wore down opponents relentlessly using physical pressure and a mean, spiteful streak. He frequently utilized elbows, knees, thumbing, open-glove rubbing, heeling, kidney shots, holding-and-hitting, wrestling opponents through the ropes or to the canvas, and hitting on the break. His bruising, aggressive attrition contrasted sharply with the slick, defensive wizardry of his greatest rival, Willie Pep, which led to a very bitter and brutal rivalry between the two. Most boxing fans rank Saddler just behind Willie Pep as the greatest featherweight of all-time, though you could make an argument that he is THE greatest featherweight. We'll start with the 1951 Topps Ringside - Sandy Saddler.
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11 THINGS WITH: Ike Williams, Lightweight World Champion.
''I don't get mad at the other fighter usually. Only time I ever really got mad was for the second [Bob] Montgomery fight. He said a lot of things about me in the newspapers. Even now, I don't care anything for him and he don't care nothing for me. I don't feel anything in the ring. If I hurt the other guy, I try to knock him out quick. I get a little mad when they run and hold. I figure the people paid their money to see a fight. When the people boo it worries the hell out of me.''
"My mother and father separated and my mother and I came North to Trenton. Trenton's my home since 1932. It was real tough. Just my mother and I, and she worked for a dollar a day when she could get work, and she was thankful to get it. She had to walk about three miles to and from work. Couldn't afford that ten cents for bus fare."
"My trainer manager Jesse Goss, he said, "C'mon, we're going to fight pro."
I was just sixteen years of age, just turning sixteen. The commissions were very lax then. I fought my first fight, I got ten dollars in New Brunswick. He took four, Gave me six. I was fighting main events when I was sixteen. Main events! I was in over my head. (But) I felt I'd get to the top eventually. I lost several fights coming up but every time I lost a fight I learned something. I've retained it until this day. Someday I expect maybe I'll find a young kid, I'll pass it on to him."
"Bob Montgomery beat Beau Jack in 1943 and Beau Jack fought him again a few months later and beat him. In between the third and final match I fought Montgomery. He knocked me out that night. No excuses. He knocked me out with eleven seconds to go. I was counted out cold. After he knocked me out, I was told he hollered over to his buddy, Johnny Hutchinson, because I had beaten Hutchinson, and Montgomery hollered over, "I got him for you, Hutch!"
"(Juan) Zurita, he was past due for a (title) defence so they named me as a contender and gave me a shot at it. Since I was a little kid, I envisioned being lightweight champion. I dreamed about the lightweight title and I finally won it. So I guess when I won it that night I probably leaped about five feet in the air. I knocked him out in the second round. It was a combination, I'll never forget it, it was a right hand to the body and a left on his chin. He went down for the full count."
"I was almost killed down there too (Mexico), for beating him. The Mexicans started throwing bricks and things. The cops, our bodyguards, two cops, (we) looked around, they were gone. Connie McCarthy (my manager), his head was split open with a brick. That's when the Mexican came up, he said, "Gimme the belt!"
I haven't seen the (championship) belt since that night, since April 18, 1945. I saw the belt for maybe five minutes. I haven't seen it since."
"Maybe it's down in Mexico City now. The fellow pulled a pistol out. He was going to kill all of us. So I said, "Give the man the damn belt!" They took the belt back. They drew a pistol on us and took the belt back. We made it to the dressing room. They followed us to the airport the next morning."
"I had Connie McCarthy, (He) was a good manager as far as the fighter go, but the man was a perpetual drunk. He was a sot. He stayed drunk every day. I said I'm going to get another manager or even do my own business. That's when he ran to the Boxing Guild. They started in 1946, to keep fighters "in line." Like, any fighter that tried to leave his manager, they were going to blackball him. That was the whole thing. The managers started it."
"World's champion and I couldn't get a fight! We went to (promoter) Herman Taylor in Philadelphia. At the time I'd fought for him 22 fights. But all of a sudden he said, "I can't use you." Because if he had, they'd have blackballed him. Jimmy White was the head of the Boxing Guild and Jimmy White said, "We're going to show just how powerful we are. We're going to stop Ike Williams from fighting." And he said, "Anybody that fights him, we're going to blackball them." So therefore I couldn't get a fight for seven, eight months."
"I was in as good a shape as I could possibly get in (for the return fight with Bob Montgomery). I knew his style and so forth and exactly what I wanted to do, just like getting up and in the mornings and washing your face. I caught him with the perfect right-hand punch. I learned this from the first fight, that when a fighter's in a crouch a fighter can't punch in a crouch. He has to come up. So I caught him coming right out of his crouch. He ran right into the punch. It was a perfect punch. He got up, but he was hurt bad. With a flurry of punches to the head and body, he fell halfway through the ropes. The referee was Charlie Daggart. Daggart counted him out. I was happy then. That was the biggest night of my life because I finally win the undisputed title and I got revenge over Montgomery."
"I fought (Enrique) Bolaños three times. I defended the title against him three times. But the third fight I fought the greatest fight I fought in my life. I felt like I could have fought forever. Jack Dempsey was the referee that night. I'd been beating Bolaños for 4 rounds, but the last punch was a right to the body. That's the last punch I hit him with. He went down slowly. He was as knocked out as any fighter ever was. That's the fight that I would have bet my life on that I would have whipped any lightweight that ever lived that night, the last fight with Bolaños. You go into training, you train and train and train for weeks and weeks and weeks, and you can't really tell what kind of condition you're in until the bell rings. You say, "I trained hard and I'm in perfect shape and I really feel good," but until the bell rings you can't really tell. Once the bell rings, then you can tell just what kind of condition you're in."
The great Ike Williams.
We lost two legends these past few weeks, George Chuvalo and Frank "The Animal" Fletcher. Of course Chuvalo was a rough, rugged heavyweight that fought for three decades, famous for his legendary chin, he was never knocked down in his entire career despite facing some murderous punchers. Fletcher was an action-packed middleweight in the 70s and 80s, a Philadelphia southpaw who built his reputation on aggression, toughness, and an almost relentless willingness to engage in a shootout. RIP to both of these legends.
What the heck, we'll go with George Chuvalo next. George Chuvalo, aka "The Iron Chin", was a legendary Canadian heavyweight who became famous for never being knocked down in any of his 93 professional fights. He fought the hardest hitters of his era—including Joe Frazier, George Foreman, Cleveland Williams, Floyd Patterson, and was never knocked down. He was only stopped twice (by Frazier and Foreman), both times via referee stoppage while remaining on his feet. He was a relentless, high-pressure slugger who walked through heavy fire and inflicted constant physical punishment to his opponents, a rough customer. Muhammad Ali famously called George Chuvalo "the toughest guy I ever fought" after their grueling 15-round heavyweight title fight at Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto on March 29, 1966. We'll start off with the 2011 Ringside Boxing Round Two - Turkey Red - Base - George Chuvalo.
2011 Ringside Boxing Round Two -Turkey Red - Gold #/9 - George Chuvalo.
2011 Ringside Boxing Round Two - Gold #/9 - George Chuvalo.
You'll notice that under the stats section on the back of that card above, it says 64 KO's. George Chuvalo was a brutal puncher. His punches were like a sledgehammer, heavy, thudding blows. A brutal, brutal fighter.
2011 In The Game Canadiana - Between the Seams - Gold #1/1 - George Chuvalo. This is as close as I can get to an exact match for the image on this card.
2011 In The Game Canadiana - Autographs - Black - George Chuvalo. Awesome looking card with the Black Maple Leaf.
2011 In The Game Canadiana - Autographs - Blue - George Chuvalo. Another awesome looking card with the Blue Maple Leaf.
2011 In The Game Canadiana - Ruby #/180 - George Chuvalo.
Here is the Sapphire #/50 variation of the above card, it's cool how they used precious gems for the variations.
1991 Arena Shows Inc. - George Chuvalo.
2009 Caplin & Rosetti - Score Prize Fighters - Blue Backs - George Chuvalo.
And now it's time for the disappointments, the George Chuvalo cards with no available photos to match. The 2010 Leaf - Ali Opponents - Bronze - George Chuvalo. I have to say, 2010 Leaf - Ali Opponents is killing me with the images on these cards, I couldn't find any photos to match for the Joe Frazier cards in this set either.
2010 Leaf - Ali Opponents - Bronze - George Chuvalo.
1986 Brown's Boxing - George Chuvalo.
2000 JF Sporting Collectibles - Heavyweight Contenders - George Chuvalo. Top row, middle card. I love this set. I apologize for not being able to find a better scan and a back scan, these cards can be difficult to find on their own.
1963 Swedish Stjarnserien - Sharon Stouder/ George Chuvalo.
Let's get a few photos of George Chuvalo in here. This is a photo of Chuvalo training in January 1958, doing his jogging roadwork in Toronto, very important for stamina.
Savage image of George Chuvalo in the 8th round of his fight with Pat McMurtry in 1958.
George Chuvalo banging the heck out of a speed bag.
This is a great image of George Chuvalo catching Muhammad with a body shot, Chuvalo was a brutal body puncher.
George Chuvalo, Routes to the Body.
Love these images of George Chuvalo hitting the speed bag with intensity.
Another good shot of Chuvalo hitting the speed bag.
This photo speaks for itself.
George Chuvalo sends Jerry Quarry to the canvas in 1969. Great fight with a crazy ending. Quarry used quick combinations and movement to keep Chuvalo off balance. Chuvalo came forward, exhibited a good jab, and had his moments when he got on the inside with Quarry. Chuvalo's right eye began to swell in round 5, which became a grotesque lump by the time the fight was over. As round 7 was coming to a close, Quarry was knocked down by a left hook on the top of the head. He rose at the count of three, but decided to take a knee, he got up at the count of ten instead of nine and referee Zach Clayton declared the fight over at 2:59. Chuvalo caught Quarry with a left hook in the temple area. Quarry’s legs went rubbery. He completely lost his equilibrium (which is what temple shots do) and stumbled backwards to the canvas. He bounced up too quick and realized that he wasn’t all there. So he took a knee and decided to take a longer count to clear his head and didn't beat the count.
I posted it earlier but this is actually my favorite photo of George Chuvalo. Such a focused look on his face.
George Chuvalo fought for three decades, 50s, 60s, and 70s. Chuvalo's longevity owed much to his love of the raw nature of the sport.
"To me, boxing has always represented the purest and truest form of athletic competition. It's much more natural to fight than it is to play football or hockey. A caveman or an alien from another planet would understand boxing, but he sure as hell wouldn't understand golf or tennis. It's all about respect for power - and no other sport more clearly demonstrates one man's superiority over another. When a guy goes down for the 10 count and can't get back on his feet, everybody knows who won.''
Epic expression on Chuvalo's face here.
Joe Louis tests the chin. Could Joe have done what 93 other men couldn't do, put Chuvalo on the canvas? 🤔
Never knocked down in 93 fights, The Ring magazine once described him as a "bullet proof heavyweight." This bronze bust of George Chuvalo was created by the artist Gabrielle Fischer. Obviously, she knows about the legendary chin. Absolute masterpiece.
George Chuvalo himself posing next to the bust.
George Chuvalo on the cover of the February 1, 1965 cover of Sports Illustrated.
George Chuvalo rocks Cleveland Williams with a jarring right hand during their 1971 bout.
I missed a chance to get this type 1 original photo of Chuvalo a while back, still kicking myself over it.
Trainer Teddy McWhorter working with George Chuvalo. McWhorter was famous for stepping directly into the ring to spar and interact with Chuvalo daily, supervising his roadwork, sleep habits, diet, and unique glove-pummeling drills.
Good shot of George Chuvalo's battering ram of an arm, as Floyd Patterson barely dodges it.
Savage image of George Chuvalo during the fight with "Smokin' Joe" Frazier. Chuvalo fought both Frazier and George Foreman, they hit him with everything and the kitchen sink and could not get him off of his feet. He really was a bullet-proof heavyweight.
George Chuvalo, Best Chin of All Time.
George Chuvalo lost the fight. But nobody ever broke him
Published: Sep. 16, 2026, 3:05 p.m.
Chuvalo
By: Jerry Izenberg
“That’s the trouble. They all collapse in the shower. Some day, somebody is gonna collapse in the ring. And George I gonna surprise a lot of people.”
... Ted McWhorter, George Chuvalo’s trainer.
“The scorecard had me winning 13-2 but don’t talk to me about no scorecard. George Chuvalo is the toughest guy I ever fought.”
... Muhammad Ali, who never expected a bleeding and wounded George Chuvalo to last all 15 rounds.
The toughest guy I ever saw in any ring in the Western Hemisphere died on Saturday at 89. His name was George Chuvalo. When the governor of Illinois chased a Muhammad Ali vs. Ernie Terrell fight out of Chicago and off the schedule, Ali went across the border to fight Chuvalo in Toronto.
Everyone laughed but Chuvalo. On the morning of the fight, Chuvalo met me for breakfast. The morning of a fight, most of them turn mean. A little thing, like the ring of a telephone, made them shout at their trainer, “Answer it. Damn, that’s what you get to do.”
But not Chuvalo. We did not know it then, but Chuvalo would go on to fight some of boxing’s greatest fighters — Ali, Joe Frazier and George Foreman — and be part of some of the sport’s most legendary defeats.
You could sense it, “I hear what they are saying around town,” he told me. “They don’t say it around me, but you can sense it. I don’t care what they say. Here was a man who had made $115 a week before the fight.”
The ring was the least of his problems.
“As a kid, that’s where I learned to fight. All I had to do was walk out the door,” Chuvalo said.
“I grew up hard. My old man, his arm was bad, but he was a skinner, the toughest, dirtiest job in the packing plant. He made $45 a week and my mom made 20 plucking chickens. There were bad kids on my block. I was too young to run with them. They stole and did a lot of bad things They called themselves the Junction Gang. A lot of them are still in the pen.”
Outside the ring, Chuvalo’s toughest fights came not from punches, but from life itself. Married to his high school sweetheart, Lynne, the couple raised five children. But addiction and grief tore through their family in waves of tragedy:
1977: Son Jesse died of a heroin overdose.
1985: Son Georgie Lee succumbed to the same fate.
1989: Overcome with grief, Lynne took her own life.
1993: Youngest son Steven also died by suicide after battling addiction.
Through all this, Chuvalo remained standing — battered by fate, but never broken. His surviving son, Mitch Chuvalo, went on to become an educator and advocate, helping others through lessons forged in their family’s pain.
From unbearable loss came a new mission. Chuvalo transformed his personal suffering into a crusade to save others. Traveling across Canada, he spoke in schools, prisons, and community centers about the dangers of drug abuse. His talks were raw, emotional, and brutally honest — the words of a father, not a preacher.
He paid his own expenses. Mitch often traveled with him. Chuvalo became one of Canada’s most visible anti-drug advocates, giving voice to grief, resilience, and redemption long before mental health awareness became a mainstream cause.
He won just two rounds that long-gone night, but at the finish, they stood toe to toe, exchanging punches with the crowd locked in a roaring, standing ovation. Ali left the ring sore and battered.
The next day, a British TV sportscaster cornered Ali’s trainer, Angelo Dundee and told him, “Worst fight I ever saw. I said all along it would be just that. Chuvalo can’t punch.”
“I do not know what you saw,” Dundee responded. “My guy won it on speed and controlling the ring but nobody in the joint could imagine it would go the full 15. Chuvalo never stopped coming forward, still trying. I don’t know about you, but it was a great fight for the crowd and they showed it. They paid their money and got what they paid for.”
The tough guy lost the fight. But when it came to how tough ‘tough’ was and the way Chuvalo endured and lived with the hand life dealt him, nobody ever laughed at Chuvalo again.
Sandy Saddler. Two-time world featherweight champion who also held the junior lightweight title. Widely regarded as one of the hardest-hitting punchers in boxing history, ranked #5 on The Ring magazine's list of the "100 Greatest Punchers of All Time". Finished his career with 144 wins, 16 losses, and 2 draws, including 104 knockouts. In possession of a granite-chin, he was only stopped once in his career, in his second professional fight. Famed for a legendary, fiercely competitive and often brutal four-fight series against defensive wizard Willie Pep, winning three of the four bouts. Sandy Saddler had an aggressive, unconventional, and notoriously rough boxing style characterized by a rare blend of a long, spindly build, devastating one-punch knockout power, and aggressive brawling style. Standing over 5 feet 8 inches, Saddler was unusually tall and rangy for a featherweight and junior lightweight, looking like a "rickety-looking beanpole" rather than a traditional muscular slugger. Despite his thin frame, his height and long arms gave him a major physical advantage over opponents. Born a natural left-hander, he converted to an orthodox (left-foot-forward) stance, which let him fire unique, awkward punches from strange angles. As previously mentioned, Saddler scored over 100 career knockouts—ranking among the highest knockout artists in boxing history—and was rated one of the greatest punchers of all time. His primary weapon was a destructive left hook that acted like a hybrid half-hook, half-uppercut, famously described by one reporter as slamming "like a barn door in a gale". Behind his power shots, he could also box cleverly using a long, damaging, and accurate left jab that never compromised his balance. Beyond clean boxing, Saddler wore down opponents relentlessly using physical pressure and a mean, spiteful streak. He frequently utilized elbows, knees, thumbing, open-glove rubbing, heeling, kidney shots, holding-and-hitting, wrestling opponents through the ropes or to the canvas, and hitting on the break. His bruising, aggressive attrition contrasted sharply with the slick, defensive wizardry of his greatest rival, Willie Pep, which led to a very bitter and brutal rivalry between the two. Most boxing fans rank Saddler just behind Willie Pep as the greatest featherweight of all-time, though you could make an argument that he is THE greatest featherweight. We'll start with the 1951 Topps Ringside - Sandy Saddler.
1951 Berk Ross - Hit Parade of Champions - Sandy Saddler.
1947-66 Exhibit Supply Company - Sandy Saddler.
1991 All World - Sandy Saddler.
1998 Japan World Boxing - Sandy Saddler.
1963 Mini-Luchador - Sandy Saddler.
2010 Ringside Boxing Round One - Base - Sandy Saddler.
2001 JF Sporting Collectibles - Boxers: World Champions - Sandy Saddler.