Elmer "Kid Violent" Ray, heavyweight in the 1940s, one of the hardest punchers in boxing history. From October 1943 to March 1947 he scored 50 consecutive wins, 46 of them by KO, that's how he earned that nickname.
Elmer Ray’s nickname was “ Kid Violent” and he had the punch to match. Eric Armit profiles one of the early heavyweight destroyers, raised in an era of racial segregation, who was forced to fight the same men time and again.
Ray was a member of the so-called “Black Murderers’ Row”. A group of black fighters who due to restrictions on mixed race fights in some states, and to the threat they posed as quality fighters with a punch, were forced to continually fight each other. He fought Obie Walker 14 times (including a spell when they fought each other five times in three months), Dixie Oliver six times and Willie Bush five times.
To end 1939, his traceable record was a poor 11-13-9, but from October 1943 to March 1947 he scored 50 consecutive wins, 46 of them by KO/TKO, including a run of 20 consecutive inside-the-distance wins.
In March 1947, he was ranked No. 1 heavyweight by Ring Magazine with a good chance of challenging Joe Louis but lost a majority decision against Jersey Joe Walcott. He rebounded to score a number of wins, including a split decision over Ezzard Charles in July 1947 to climb to No. 2 in the ratings.
However, a ninth-round KO loss to Charles, in May 1948, ended his hopes of a title shot and he retired in March 1949 at the age of 38. After retiring, he finally got into the ring with Joe Louis, but only in exhibition bouts.
In 2003, Ring Magazine rated Ray No. 44 in their list of the 100 greatest punchers in the history of boxing. Ray was inducted into the Florida Boxing Hall of Fame in 2010.
George Foreman knocks down J.B. Williamson in 1989 in route to a 5th round stoppage. My goodness, look at the size of Foreman, what a monster. This was the comeback version of Foreman, different from the 70s version of Foreman. Different fighter, different man altogether. The comeback version of Foreman still carried his brutal power, brutal f...ing power, frightening power, but he was a more patient and technically sound boxer, as opposed to the 70s headhunter version looking for the immediate killshot.
This is one of the coolest boxing photos ever taken, comeback George Foreman with the shades on and the belts over his shoulders after his victory over Axel Schulz in 1995.
The comeback of George Foreman in the late 80s in one of the greatest stories in sports history.
George Foreman’s return to the ring, in his own words
George Foreman stood in the center of the ring, his red gloves lowered, sweat dripping down his swollen face. Michael Moorer was sprawled on the canvas in front of him as referee Joe Cortez counted to 10. “It happened. It happened!” HBO’s Jim Lampley shouted, barely audible over the roar of the MGM Grand crowd. Indeed, it did. George Foreman, at age 45, had completed one of the greatest comebacks in sports history, regaining the heavyweight championship more than 20 years after he was upset by Muhammad Ali in the “Rumble in the Jungle.” “Big” George, his full head of hair now completely gone and 30 pounds heavier, dramatically put an end to a 10-year retirement with a compact right hand in Round 10. While Foreman stood there, soaking in the hoopla and euphoria of the crowd, he felt different. “I wasn’t happy because I won,” Foreman told The Athletic. “I was happy because I could do what I set out to do and take care of the people and the projects that mattered to me. That’s why I decided to come back in the first place.” That moment and the ones that would follow — the financial freedom he’d feel again after falling on hard times; the returned spotlight when he had a different message; the newfound sense of purpose he had in his community — all came after years of the most grueling work he’d ever done. Foreman, an Olympic gold medalist in 1968 who scored professional victories over Joe Frazier and Ken Norton, left boxing in the late 1970s after tasting all the success the sport had to give. And for 10 years, Foreman really lived – "I didn't even make a fist." Happily retired, he spent time with his family, became an ordained minister at his church, ate great food and relaxed at his home. He found purpose and peace in the process, but also lost all of his money. So the preacher once again became the puncher. And it was a comeback like no other.
Long before the win over Moorer that catapulted Foreman back on top, he’d given up the sport that had shot him to global fame. After a unanimous decision loss to Jimmy Young in 1977 in Puerto Rico, Foreman had a spiritual experience in his dressing room. “I’d gotten close to God,” he said. “And I had a vision that Jesus Christ spoke to me. I decided to refocus my life then.” Just like that, at 28 years old, Foreman was done with the sport. He immediately decided to move back home to the Houston area to settle down. By 1979, he’d been ordained as a minister and had started traveling all over the world to speak to congregations. He’d talk at funerals, in prisons, to family and neighbors. He found a higher calling and new purpose. And it was all happening far from a boxing ring. Foreman was busy with his congregation — the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ — and with his family. He was fulfilled. “For 10 years, I didn’t even make a fist,” Foreman said. “I didn’t train. I didn’t box. My life was built around the evangelistic work. I was raising my children. I became better at their homework than they were. I was happy. I never intended to come back to boxing.” But one day Foreman looked around and realized he didn’t have the funds to keep up with everything he was doing. Foreman was paying for his home while taking care of his family. He was also spending money on his church and on his passion project, a youth center on the northside of Houston. The George Foreman Youth Center had been open for a short time but was already making an impact in the community. Foreman started it after visiting a gym once and meeting a teenager who was interested in boxing. His parents approached Foreman and pleaded with him to work with their son, who was mixed up with some friends who could lead him down the wrong path. Foreman told them he wasn’t boxing anymore. “I said, ‘I am a preacher now. Send him to church. That’s what he needs.’ “I had such an arrogance about it. I didn’t think boxing could make someone good. It didn’t make me a good person.” It wasn't long until that same teenager had found himself in trouble after he and some friends robbed a local store. “I felt guilty,” Foreman said. “Maybe if I’d worked with the boy or had somewhere for he and his friends to go, this wouldn’t have happened. So I started the youth center.” Foreman wanted it to be accessible to everyone, so he didn’t charge much. Any kid who wanted to join would just pay his age for the year. A 6-year-old had a year-long membership for $6, a 7-year-old for $7 all the way up to 18-year-olds who paid $18. Passion does not always equal profit, though, and the gym was far from a money-maker. Foreman had won millions in his boxing career, but he had lost it all by the late 1980s. He started taking speaking engagements to make money, but they weren’t cutting it. One day in Atlanta, Foreman had enough. “I was invited to a church in Georgia to speak and the guy told me if I spoke for three days, they would raise money for my youth center,” he said. “So I stayed three days, and on the third day, the guy was begging these people to give me money. I was so embarrassed. All the wealth and money I had accumulated in those years and here we were asking people who didn’t have much money for money for me. “I decided right then I would never ask anyone for anything ever again. I decided I was going to be heavyweight champion of the world and that’s where I will get my money for my youth center.”
The goal of regaining his belts was clear. Now Foreman just needed a plan. But winning the heavyweight title, or any boxing match for that matter, wouldn’t be easy. Foreman had spent the past 10 years of his life really enjoying it. He wasn’t anywhere near fighting shape. “I didn’t just gain weight,” he said chuckling. “I earned it.” Between 1977 and 1987, Foreman had put on about 100 pounds. “I was eating banana splits. I didn’t even know those existed,” Foreman said. “Cheeseburgers with jalapeños. All the years I was boxing, I didn’t eat those things. I had steak and vegetables. I didn’t even know about dessert.” One day soon after his initial retirement, Foreman was traveling in East Texas and went through the drive-thru of a Dairy Queen. “I really couldn’t believe that suddenly, I was allowed to just eat this, that or whatever,” he said. “I saw the menu said, ‘ice cream cone dipped in chocolate’ and I was amazed.” Foreman ordered the ice cream cone and watched them dip the soft serve vanilla ice cream into chocolate that formed into a hard shell. “What in the world? Wow!” Foreman says with as much enthusiasm today as he had when he tasted the chain’s signature treat more than four decades ago. “You can understand how I got to 315 pounds.” So the first step for Foreman was to drop some weight. He started running, jogging and riding his bike. When he was boxing before, he ran to work out, but never more than 3.5 miles. Now, he never ran less than 10 miles at a time. “I would have my wife drive me 17 miles from home and drop me off,” Foreman said, “then I would have to get back running and jogging, running and jogging till I got back.” He ran primarily to lose weight, but unexpectedly he gained a new advantage: Foreman’s endurance grew with the extended cardio. “I didn’t have that when I left the sport years before,” he said. “I was a good puncher, but stamina was not my calling card. I never trained like that before and it made me a better boxer. It helped me develop a new style.” Eventually, Foreman dropped to 229 pounds. He felt like he lost a little strength, though, and let himself get back up to 250, where he felt the power behind his punches again. He trained in his gym, often with an audience. At the beginning of his comeback, Foreman couldn’t afford to pay professional sparring partners. But he had a long line of friends from the community who wanted to help. Doctors, lawyers, businessmen all showed up to spar with “Big George,” and he took advantage. “I wouldn’t hit any of them because I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he said. “But they helped me with my defense.” His makeshift sparring partners would wait their turn and enter the ring with Foreman one at a time. They’d try to hit him while he glided around and worked on footwork and defense. Lawyer Ed Wallison, who taught aerobics and trained mixed martial arts at the time, remembers the days in the ring with Foreman fondly. “I would hop in, in head-to-toe protective gear, and we’d be in there moving around for one minute,” Wallison said, “me throwing all these weird punches and George blocking, then someone else would come in for me and he would keep going. I was in great shape and even still, I would get out of the ring after a short amount of time and be exhausted.” Foreman’s stamina was better than ever. He could block just about anything. He’d successfully lost weight and was back in fighting shape. However, to make it all work, he needed to be able to hit someone. “That was the hardest part for me,” Foreman said. “I hadn’t so much as balled up my fist in 10 years. I was a different person and coming from a different place. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I learned how to again and the difference was never throw a punch in anger.” The simple concept changed Foreman’s entire view of the sport he’d participated in for so long. “All of a sudden, I felt like, ‘Why did I leave boxing in the first place?’” he said. “Never punch in anger. If only I had captured that attitude before, I never would have left boxing.”
Things were on track for Foreman’s comeback. He started booking fights against journeymen in smaller venues to start, and it was going well. It wasn’t always fun, though. Foreman said the workouts and the fights were hard on him physically. “Sometimes my wife would have to help me so much at home because I was so sore,” he said. “My family members would come over and help rub down my muscles, massage my arms. It was painful work.” A few fights into his comeback, Foreman almost gave up. In September 1987, he fought Bobby Crabtree at the Hitchin’ Post in Springfield, Mo. It was a tough night from the get-go when Foreman arrived and found out that Crabtree was a quick-footed southpaw. “He was good,” Foreman said. “Fast on his feet, moving around and getting to me. After four full rounds, I was like, ‘What am I doing?’ I could hear people yelling, ‘he’s old’ and ‘his legs are tired.’” Foreman couldn’t sit between rounds because he was afraid he was going to struggle to get back up if he did. He eventually won the bout on a technical knockout in the sixth round. After the fight, Foreman was questioning his goals. The experience was so draining, he wasn’t sure that he really wanted to be back in the sport. “I got back home and was pretty disturbed,” he said. “Then I went to the community center and looked around and saw exactly what I was working for. I thought, ‘I’ve come this far, I’ve done the work. I can finish it.’ “No one knew that was close to the end for me. But I challenged myself. I made it through that struggle. I told myself, ‘This is rougher than I thought and each fight will get worse.’ Then I decided to keep going.” Foreman went on to appear in several more fights over the next few years, winning them all. He also grew his public persona in that time. With his newfound zest for life, Foreman was more approachable, likable and became a fan favorite.
Though most agreed that fighting at 45 years old was impressive and that he deserved a lot of credit for it, there weren’t many who thought that he would regain the heavyweight title again. In 1991, Foreman finally received a crack at his goal: He challenged Evander Holyfield for the undisputed heavyweight championship. Holyfield earned the victory via decision, but Foreman earned respect. He pushed Holyfield, 14 years his junior, to the brink in a grueling battle that was billed 'The Battle of the Ages'. It was clear now that this comeback was serious. Two years later, Foreman lost again, this time via decision to Tommy Morrison, who played Tommy Gunn in "Rocky V". Still, Foreman continued to be one of the biggest draws in the sport, and in 1994, he would have one more shot at the crown. This time, the champ was 26-year-old Michael Moorer, a fleet-of-foot boxer who upset Holyfield. That night in Las Vegas, Foreman donned the same red trunks he’d worn 20 years prior when he lost to Ali in Zaire. This time, though, he had more friends and family in attendance. He also had a new outlook and a very clear goal in mind. But early on in the bout, Foreman did not look destined to have his hand raised. “Moorer could take a punch and he was getting to me. He came out every round ready to get me. He was skillful,” Foreman said. “I stood up tall after every round and went back. For nine rounds, it seemed like he would win.” Moorer did appear to have the fight under control. He was faster than Foreman and had more energy as the action went deeper. Before the 10th round, Foreman’s trainer, Angelo Dundee, told him that he was behind on the scorecards and needed to finish the fight. “You gotta put this guy down,” Dundee told him before the 10th round. “You’re behind, baby.” Foreman was frustrated but started looking at the fight differently. He began searching for the knockout and didn’t throw his jab as much. The new game plan worked. Foreman caught Moorer’s chin with his vaunted right hand midway through the 10th, and though the punch was subtle, Moorer was in bad shape. “I knew before it was over that I had done it,” Foreman recalls. “I was heavyweight champ of the world. I was so happy. And it was different. I didn’t celebrate the same way (I had in previous title fights) because it wasn’t about me anymore.” Foreman knelt and said a prayer. He thought of all the people in Houston, his friends, his family, his community, the folks from the youth center and those in his church. “How do I tell them all thank you?” Foreman said. “That’s what I was thinking about. It wasn’t about me being the champ. It was about me not having to ask for anything but for me to be able to give everything I wanted to. It was an emotional journey."
Foreman, who lives in Huffman, Texas, just north of Houston, spends his days more quietly now. He loves being around his children and grandchildren and visiting with close friends. He’s content, peaceful and happy. The 71-year-old is still asked about his boxing days and about the comeback that will dot history books forever. With his victory over Moorer, he became the oldest fighter ever to win a world championship. He became a symbol of hard work and perseverance. He hopes that when people reflect on his journey, they take away three things. “Principles, fight and conviction,” he said. “Those are my three words. You never know when you have to fight. The most important punch you better have is your principles, and your convictions are everything.” Foreman reflects often on all the lessons life has taught him. He talks about his flaws, about his mistakes and about how he overcame them. “You don’t want to get lost in your journey,” he said. “I did for a while. And I found my way back when I knew what I needed to do. “I didn’t come back to boxing to be a champion. I became a champion because that’s what I needed to do to be able to do all the things that were important to me. That was my purpose and when it was clear, I could face any challenge.”
Sweet redemption. Foreman knocks out Michael Moorer in round 10 on November 5th, 1994 to become world heavyweight champion again, it had been 20 years since he lost the belt to Ali in Zaire. I'll never forget that moment, I was in middle school at the time when I saw it happen. The punch that did the trick didn't look like much, but Foreman had been landing heavy shots on Moorer the entire fight, slowly grinding him down and the dam finally broke in round 10 with a two punch combination, a stiff left jab followed by a short right hand.
I loved watching the comeback version of Foreman, he had a granite chin, despite being ancient in boxing years, he fought some heavy hitters, Bert Cooper, Alex Stewart, Gerry Cooney, Tommy Morrison, and none of them could hurt him. He also had tremendous heart. He still carried brutal ass power, Evander Holyfield is on record as saying 91' Foreman is the hardest he's ever been hit. It was surreal watching Foreman reinvent himself from the 70s version to a technical boxer, it was a thing of beauty watching him operate. His comeback story was amazing and it really set the precedent for athletes competing into their forties. It's just hard to imagine a 38 year old looking at the Heavyweight landscape of young, fresh prospects, and saying "I can do this."
In 1990, George Foreman got Gerry Cooney with one of the most frightening knockouts you'll ever see. Foreman marched right out of his corner in round 2 and caught Cooney with a brutal left walking uppercut, and finished him with a right hand. It was similar to the punch that Jersey Joe Walcott took Ezzard Charles out with in 1951.
Here it is, the Foreman walking uppercut on Cooney. It's crazy because Foreman was right-handed and threw that uppercut with his left, he had brutal power in both hands.
Foreman vs Holyfield in 1991 was an epic fight, it was called the "Battle of the Ages" because Foreman was 14 years older than Holyfield. Despite the age difference, Foreman gave Holyfield all he could handle. Love this Ring magazine cover.
“You put up your body, and nerve, against another man on the chance it could get you onto Easy Street. For most fighters, it didn’t turn out that way. For most fighters, boxing was a losing investment. And even for the ones who were luckier, like me, there were minuses to go with the pluses. Few of us got out scot-free.” – Joe Frazier
Joe Frazier wasn’t just a champion inside the ring he was a man who spoke with raw honesty about the brutal reality of boxing. His words remind us that behind every victory, there is sacrifice, pain, and a price to pay.
Aaron Pryor, "The Hawk", competed from 1976 to 1990, Two-time light welterweight world champion, all-time great. He used to point to his opponents before the start of each fight in an intimidating manner to let them know, "It's Hawk time." He was only defeated one time in his career, that defeat came when he was way past his prime. In his actual prime, he was unbeatable, he was a damn beast. This is one of the sickest boxing photos I've ever seen.
Kid Gavilan, welterweight champ in the 1950's, "The Cuban Hawk", one of the greatest fighters to ever lace up a pair of boxing gloves. This guy is a legend, he was famous for his "bolo punch", a combination of a hook and uppercut. He developed that bolo punch from years of cutting sugar cane with a machete in his native Cuba. Gavilan was a nightmare of an opponent to face, he never stopped throwing punches, he wasn't a hard puncher but was very aggressive with the shots he did throw, and his punches had sting on them, and he threw so many that the accumulation could really bust you up as a fight wore on. He had a chin made out of Chromium, he was never stopped or KO'd, was knocked down only twice in almost 150 fights, and Gavilan faced some of the most brutal punchers in boxing history, understanding quantum physics would be easier than knocking Kid Gavilan down on the canvas. This is one of the coolest boxing photos, Kid Gavilan lighting up a cigarette.
Immortal Champions
Kid Gavilan: The Indestructible “Cuban Hawk”
By: Mario Salomone
Feb 13, 2025
The legendary Cuban boxing great Kid Gavilan passed away on February 13, 2003, at the age of 77, in poverty and solitude. So much so that, at his burial site in a neglected area of Miami’s Our Lady of Mercy cemetery, only a simple bronze plaque was initially placed. To exhume his remains, transfer them to a more suitable location, and honor him with a proper headstone, donations from other boxing champions were needed—the most generous of which came from Mike Tyson, who contributed $5,000 despite having recently declared bankruptcy at the time. And yet, during his years of glory, the “Cuban Hawk” wrote indelible pages in boxing history, establishing himself as one of the greatest welterweights of all time.
Lacking Power, Sublime in Everything Else: The Artist of the “Bolo Punch”:
When Mother Nature handed out gifts to little Gerardo Gonzalez—Gavilan’s birth name—she likely realized she had given him too many and decided to withhold power. In every other aspect, the “Cuban Hawk” had it all: as fast as a feline, as solid as a rock, technically mesmerizing, and mentally unbreakable. Had he also possessed knockout power, he might have challenged Sugar Ray Robinson for the title of the greatest boxer in history. Instead, out of 143 professional fights, he won only 28 by knockout, far more often relying on the judges—sometimes to his detriment. If the fighter from Camagüey lacked a one-punch finisher in his offensive arsenal, he made up for it with a spectacular weapon: the unmistakable bolo punch. The invention of this unique swinging uppercut—executed by winding the arm backward before striking—is traditionally credited to Filipino fighter Ceferino Garcia. However, Gavilan developed it on his own, as the motion was the same one he used when cutting sugarcane in Cuba’s vast fields!
From Early Days at Home to a World Title Shot Against the God of Boxing:
Turning professional at just 17, Gavilan fought most of his early bouts in Cuba, with occasional trips to Mexico. It took four years before he moved permanently to the United States, where he immediately showcased his talent, quickly earning high-profile fights. Though he initially lost to more experienced elite fighters like Ike Williams and Sugar Ray Robinson, the young Cuban won the public’s admiration. In both cases, the crowd loudly booed the decisions, protesting the result against Robinson so fiercely that the event had to be interrupted to restore order. Growing more confident in his abilities, Gavilan won both the rematch and the rubber match against Williams, earning a shot at the welterweight world title held by that same Sugar Ray Robinson, who had previously beaten him in a non-title bout. Having never fought beyond ten rounds, Gavilan remained highly competitive through the first six but faded down the stretch, losing by decision. His date with destiny would have to wait.
Ups and Downs, a World Title, and Controversy:
The following years saw fluctuating fortunes, with one constant: judges, audiences, and journalists often saw three different fights, leading to endless debates. By the end of his career, Gavilan had amassed a record 19 split decisions—11 in his favor, 8 against him. While frequently fighting on the road may have worked against him, the backing of his managers—who had ties to organized crime and connections to the notorious Italian-American mobster Frankie Carbo—might have opened some doors for him. However, there was no controversy when he finally became world champion in May 1951, dominating titleholder Johnny Bratton on points and breaking his jaw in the process. Things were quite different in his first title defense: Billy Graham lost via a controversial split decision, which became infamous when, on his deathbed, judge Arthur Schwartz confessed to favoring Gavilan out of intimidation from his entourage. To be fair, though, Graham had been too passive in the first half of the fight, which was extremely close regardless.
A Punch Against Racism and the Destruction of the Undefeated:
After yet another questionable decision—an absurd draw in a non-title bout against former champion Johnny Bratton, whom Gavilan had clearly dominated—the Cuban defended his belt in a historic fight against southpaw Bobby Dykes in Miami. It was the first time in Florida’s history that a Black fighter faced a white opponent for a world title. Dykes even received death threats from fanatics accusing him of “dishonoring the white race” by agreeing to fight a Black man, but he stepped into the ring, fought courageously, and lost by a narrow margin. Not only did Gavilan never fear hostile crowds, but he also had no qualms about taking on undefeated fighters: first Gil Turner and then Chuck Davey were both dismantled by the Cuban Hawk, staining their perfect records for the first time. Between those two fights, Gavilan also granted Billy Graham another title shot, but once again, Graham had legitimate reasons to feel wronged. Upon arriving in Cuba, he was arrested on a ridiculous pretext and held in jail for several days before the fight. It was no surprise, then, that this time, the bout was completely one-sided.
The Last Trumpets of the “Cuban Hawk”:
Before his inevitable decline, Gavilan still had a few tricks up his sleeve. His last two successful title defenses saw him first overcome the formidable Italian-American Carmen Basilio and then his old rival Johnny Bratton once more. At the time, Basilio had yet to carve his name into the history books—he was in the midst of making the crucial improvements that would later make him an indomitable fighter. Gavilan suffered only the second and last knockdown of his career and struggled with the challenger’s unorthodox style. However, his greater ring savvy in close quarters allowed him to recover in the second half of the fight and edge out a narrow victory. His revenge against Bratton, on the other hand, was overwhelming. This time, no judge in the world could have gifted Bratton a draw: Gavilan toyed with him like a cat with a mouse for half the fight before launching a devastating bombardment that repeatedly had the poor challenger on the verge of a knockout. Bratton’s immense pride kept him on his feet until the final bell, but Gavilan walked away with a lopsided decision victory.
The Missed Triumph and the Final Betrayal:
After three years of dominance in the welterweight division, Kid Gavilan could not resist the urge to cement his legacy by chasing the middleweight crown. Before facing champion Bobo Olson, the Cuban stepped on the scale without even removing his clothes—yet the needle stopped two kilos below the middleweight limit. To make matters worse, he had suffered a right-hand injury in his previous fight, forcing him to rely almost entirely on his left. The mountain proved too steep to climb, and the Cuban Hawk was forced to return to the 147-pound division, where one last betrayal awaited him. Facing challenger Johnny Saxton—a fighter whose career was deeply entangled with mob interests—Gavilan engaged in an ugly, clinch-filled bout that lacked significant action. Still, according to most observers, he had done more than enough to win. But that wasn’t the official verdict: yet another split decision, this time against him, bringing an inglorious end to a reign that, despite all its controversies, remains extraordinary.
The path Gavilan embarked on that night eventually led to his passing in 2003, after eight years in a care facility where his health deteriorated day by day. Shamefully forgotten by those closest to him in the final phase of his life, the Hawk of Camagüey will never be forgotten by boxing fans. Thanks to the noble efforts of fighters like Roberto Duran, Leon Spinks, Buddy McGirt, Emile Griffith, and the aforementioned Mike Tyson, visitors can now pay their respects at a headstone truly worthy of a world champion.
Chuck Davey was a slick boxer, an Irish Southpaw with an awkward style, I love watching Davey on film, very unique fighter. Davey brought his unbeaten record against Kid Gavilan in 1953, but was no match for the Keed.
Kid Gavilan made a dominant defense of the welterweight championship with a 10th round TKO of Chuck Davey at Chicago Stadium in Chicago, Illinois in 1953.
Davey came into the fight at 37-0-2, but it turned out Gavilan was simply on a different level than the unbeaten Detroit fighter.
Gavilan had his way and put Davey on the canvas for a nine-count in round 3. In rounds 5 and 6, Gavilan turned southpaw seemingly to prove a point about being able to defeat him any way he wanted, then continued to fight in control. In round 9, Gavilan sent Davey down three times hard, with the third knockdown coming just before the bell. Davey made it to his feet at nine, and was in the process of falling down again when the bell rang.
After the 9th, Davey's corner mercifully pulled the plug and saved their fighter.
"He never hurt me," Gavilan said. "After I knocked him down in the third round I was not worried. I fought southpaw to show him I could fight that way too. Davey is nice boy, but he needs more experience. He is polite too. He butted me and said he's sorry."
Kid Gavilan was no joke, he is a legend in boxing history, he fought apocalyptic battles in the ring, against the likes of Ike Williams, Gil Turner, Carmen Basilio, Sugar Ray Robinson, Johnny Bratton, Johnny Saxton, Tiger Jones, Gaspar Ortega, Beau Jack, Tony Demarco, Rocky Castellani, Eduardo Lausse, Laurent Dauthuille, Bobo Olson, Billy Graham. It's the strongest era in welterweight history, when freakin' dinosaurs roamed the Earth, and Gavilan was a T-Rex. His fight with Gil Turner was one for the books, one of the greatest fights of all-time. Gil Turner was a tough unbeaten Philadelphia brawler, gunslinger, always looking to turn a fight into a shootout. Kid Gavilan gave him one hell of a gun battle. I don't think Gil Turner quite knew what he was up against in this fight, a man with an undentable chin, endless stamina, iron will, ridiculous determination, and just as much firepower as him, if not more. Starting a shootout with Gavilan was like poking a hornet's nest, it was right up his alley, Gavilan was a damn beast.
In 1952, undefeated North Philly welterweight, Gil Turner fought the biggest fight of his life when he took on a legend in the making, welterweight champ Kid Gavilan of Cuba. The twenty-one year old Turner was the hottest of prospects at 31-0 with 26 KOs when he stepped up for his big opportunity. His urgent, windmill style had been thrilling fans in his two years as a pro and he figured to be an interesting match for the experienced Cuban. Many felt that a fight against Gavilan was too much too soon for the still-developing Turner. But his recent body count of opponents - especially greats like Ike WIlliams & Beau Jack - indicated that the time was right. Gil's manager George Katz fought for the title shot and got it.
The fight itself was quite a contest. Turner charged out and threw punches in his usual non-stop fashion. He landed well, especially early, scoring many shots and sending a message to the Kid. But Gavilan bit down and began to use his superior skills to not only fend off the young lion, but to begin to wound him. Gavilan hurt Turner in the fifth and sixth, but Gil kept moving forward and kept swinging. After ten rounds, the fight was even. However, the tenth was a big one for Gavilan. He hurt Turner again and for the first time in his career it appeared that Gil was running out of gas.
As the championship rounds began, Gavilan turned up the heat and went in for the kill. He landed booming, unanswered shots. Turner was seriously hurt but wouldn't go down. Finally with Turner trapped on the ropes, Gavilan fired away until referee Pete Tomasco jumped in to stop it. It was a glorious win for Gavilan, a win of a true champion. For Turner, it was his most memorable fight in a career full of exciting, unforgettable matches. He would be a contender for years to come, but never again vie for a title.
This great fight took place at Municipal Stadium before a big crowd of 39,025 and held the attendance record for welterweight title fights until 1980, when the first Roberto Duran vs. Sugar Ray Leonard bout finally drew more fans.
The Gavilan-Turner fight was the second of three big events held in Philadelphia during the summer of 1952. The first was Walcott-Charles IV in June and the third was Maricano vs. Walcott I in September. All three fights were held at Municipal Stadium and prompted 1952 to be called Philadelphia's greatest boxing season.
Kid Gavilan vs Johnny "Honey Boy" Bratton, they fought three times. It was one of the greatest rivalries in boxing history. I love Johnny Bratton, watching him on film he reminds you a lot of Sugar Ray Robinson, his smooth style, he even resembles Robinson in appearance, great fighter. Bratton went life-and-death with Gavilan in their trilogy, Gavilan beat him for the world welterweight title in the first fight, the kid broke Bratton's jaw in that fight, Bratton's jaw was broken within the first five rounds.
Despite the injury, Bratton continued to fight the full 15 rounds and lost by a unanimous decision to Gavilan, who claimed the vacant NBA World Welterweight Championship title. The second fight was one of the best fights you'll ever see, a back and forth war that ended in a draw. By the time the third fight rolled around, Bratton was pretty much a shop-worn fighter, he put up a good effort but ended up taking a horrendous beating from Gavilan in their third fight.
Geez, I could go on all night long about Kid Gavilan, such a great great fighter, so many epic battles, such a legend. Gavilan vs Carmen Basilio, this is one of the two knockdowns that Gavilan had in his career, take a good look at this photo because this is one of the rarest sights in boxing history, Gavilan tasting the canvas, looking at this photo is like looking at an actual Bigfoot, you just didn't see this happen. Carmen Basilio is one of the two men who can claim they knocked down the iron-chinned Gavilan. Despite the knockdown, this fight was won by Gavilan, he won it by a 15-round split decision. The other man who can claim that he knocked down Kid Gavilan is the murderous punching Ike Williams, but there is no photo of that knockdown to my knowledge.
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Elmer "Kid Violent" Ray, heavyweight in the 1940s, one of the hardest punchers in boxing history. From October 1943 to March 1947 he scored 50 consecutive wins, 46 of them by KO, that's how he earned that nickname.
Elmer Ray’s nickname was “ Kid Violent” and he had the punch to match. Eric Armit profiles one of the early heavyweight destroyers, raised in an era of racial segregation, who was forced to fight the same men time and again.
Ray was a member of the so-called “Black Murderers’ Row”. A group of black fighters who due to restrictions on mixed race fights in some states, and to the threat they posed as quality fighters with a punch, were forced to continually fight each other. He fought Obie Walker 14 times (including a spell when they fought each other five times in three months), Dixie Oliver six times and Willie Bush five times.
To end 1939, his traceable record was a poor 11-13-9, but from October 1943 to March 1947 he scored 50 consecutive wins, 46 of them by KO/TKO, including a run of 20 consecutive inside-the-distance wins.
In March 1947, he was ranked No. 1 heavyweight by Ring Magazine with a good chance of challenging Joe Louis but lost a majority decision against Jersey Joe Walcott. He rebounded to score a number of wins, including a split decision over Ezzard Charles in July 1947 to climb to No. 2 in the ratings.
However, a ninth-round KO loss to Charles, in May 1948, ended his hopes of a title shot and he retired in March 1949 at the age of 38. After retiring, he finally got into the ring with Joe Louis, but only in exhibition bouts.
In 2003, Ring Magazine rated Ray No. 44 in their list of the 100 greatest punchers in the history of boxing. Ray was inducted into the Florida Boxing Hall of Fame in 2010.
Elmer "Kid Violent" Ray (left) lands a punch on Ezzard Charles.
Good shot of Elmer Ray.
George Foreman knocks down J.B. Williamson in 1989 in route to a 5th round stoppage. My goodness, look at the size of Foreman, what a monster. This was the comeback version of Foreman, different from the 70s version of Foreman. Different fighter, different man altogether. The comeback version of Foreman still carried his brutal power, brutal f...ing power, frightening power, but he was a more patient and technically sound boxer, as opposed to the 70s headhunter version looking for the immediate killshot.
This is one of the coolest boxing photos ever taken, comeback George Foreman with the shades on and the belts over his shoulders after his victory over Axel Schulz in 1995.
The comeback of George Foreman in the late 80s in one of the greatest stories in sports history.
George Foreman’s return to the ring, in his own words
George Foreman stood in the center of the ring, his red gloves lowered, sweat dripping down his swollen face. Michael Moorer was sprawled on the canvas in front of him as referee Joe Cortez counted to 10. “It happened. It happened!” HBO’s Jim Lampley shouted, barely audible over the roar of the MGM Grand crowd. Indeed, it did. George Foreman, at age 45, had completed one of the greatest comebacks in sports history, regaining the heavyweight championship more than 20 years after he was upset by Muhammad Ali in the “Rumble in the Jungle.” “Big” George, his full head of hair now completely gone and 30 pounds heavier, dramatically put an end to a 10-year retirement with a compact right hand in Round 10. While Foreman stood there, soaking in the hoopla and euphoria of the crowd, he felt different. “I wasn’t happy because I won,” Foreman told The Athletic. “I was happy because I could do what I set out to do and take care of the people and the projects that mattered to me. That’s why I decided to come back in the first place.” That moment and the ones that would follow — the financial freedom he’d feel again after falling on hard times; the returned spotlight when he had a different message; the newfound sense of purpose he had in his community — all came after years of the most grueling work he’d ever done. Foreman, an Olympic gold medalist in 1968 who scored professional victories over Joe Frazier and Ken Norton, left boxing in the late 1970s after tasting all the success the sport had to give. And for 10 years, Foreman really lived – "I didn't even make a fist." Happily retired, he spent time with his family, became an ordained minister at his church, ate great food and relaxed at his home. He found purpose and peace in the process, but also lost all of his money. So the preacher once again became the puncher. And it was a comeback like no other.
Long before the win over Moorer that catapulted Foreman back on top, he’d given up the sport that had shot him to global fame. After a unanimous decision loss to Jimmy Young in 1977 in Puerto Rico, Foreman had a spiritual experience in his dressing room. “I’d gotten close to God,” he said. “And I had a vision that Jesus Christ spoke to me. I decided to refocus my life then.” Just like that, at 28 years old, Foreman was done with the sport. He immediately decided to move back home to the Houston area to settle down. By 1979, he’d been ordained as a minister and had started traveling all over the world to speak to congregations. He’d talk at funerals, in prisons, to family and neighbors. He found a higher calling and new purpose. And it was all happening far from a boxing ring. Foreman was busy with his congregation — the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ — and with his family. He was fulfilled. “For 10 years, I didn’t even make a fist,” Foreman said. “I didn’t train. I didn’t box. My life was built around the evangelistic work. I was raising my children. I became better at their homework than they were. I was happy. I never intended to come back to boxing.” But one day Foreman looked around and realized he didn’t have the funds to keep up with everything he was doing. Foreman was paying for his home while taking care of his family. He was also spending money on his church and on his passion project, a youth center on the northside of Houston. The George Foreman Youth Center had been open for a short time but was already making an impact in the community. Foreman started it after visiting a gym once and meeting a teenager who was interested in boxing. His parents approached Foreman and pleaded with him to work with their son, who was mixed up with some friends who could lead him down the wrong path. Foreman told them he wasn’t boxing anymore. “I said, ‘I am a preacher now. Send him to church. That’s what he needs.’ “I had such an arrogance about it. I didn’t think boxing could make someone good. It didn’t make me a good person.” It wasn't long until that same teenager had found himself in trouble after he and some friends robbed a local store. “I felt guilty,” Foreman said. “Maybe if I’d worked with the boy or had somewhere for he and his friends to go, this wouldn’t have happened. So I started the youth center.” Foreman wanted it to be accessible to everyone, so he didn’t charge much. Any kid who wanted to join would just pay his age for the year. A 6-year-old had a year-long membership for $6, a 7-year-old for $7 all the way up to 18-year-olds who paid $18. Passion does not always equal profit, though, and the gym was far from a money-maker. Foreman had won millions in his boxing career, but he had lost it all by the late 1980s. He started taking speaking engagements to make money, but they weren’t cutting it. One day in Atlanta, Foreman had enough. “I was invited to a church in Georgia to speak and the guy told me if I spoke for three days, they would raise money for my youth center,” he said. “So I stayed three days, and on the third day, the guy was begging these people to give me money. I was so embarrassed. All the wealth and money I had accumulated in those years and here we were asking people who didn’t have much money for money for me. “I decided right then I would never ask anyone for anything ever again. I decided I was going to be heavyweight champion of the world and that’s where I will get my money for my youth center.”
The goal of regaining his belts was clear. Now Foreman just needed a plan. But winning the heavyweight title, or any boxing match for that matter, wouldn’t be easy. Foreman had spent the past 10 years of his life really enjoying it. He wasn’t anywhere near fighting shape. “I didn’t just gain weight,” he said chuckling. “I earned it.” Between 1977 and 1987, Foreman had put on about 100 pounds. “I was eating banana splits. I didn’t even know those existed,” Foreman said. “Cheeseburgers with jalapeños. All the years I was boxing, I didn’t eat those things. I had steak and vegetables. I didn’t even know about dessert.” One day soon after his initial retirement, Foreman was traveling in East Texas and went through the drive-thru of a Dairy Queen. “I really couldn’t believe that suddenly, I was allowed to just eat this, that or whatever,” he said. “I saw the menu said, ‘ice cream cone dipped in chocolate’ and I was amazed.” Foreman ordered the ice cream cone and watched them dip the soft serve vanilla ice cream into chocolate that formed into a hard shell. “What in the world? Wow!” Foreman says with as much enthusiasm today as he had when he tasted the chain’s signature treat more than four decades ago. “You can understand how I got to 315 pounds.” So the first step for Foreman was to drop some weight. He started running, jogging and riding his bike. When he was boxing before, he ran to work out, but never more than 3.5 miles. Now, he never ran less than 10 miles at a time. “I would have my wife drive me 17 miles from home and drop me off,” Foreman said, “then I would have to get back running and jogging, running and jogging till I got back.” He ran primarily to lose weight, but unexpectedly he gained a new advantage: Foreman’s endurance grew with the extended cardio. “I didn’t have that when I left the sport years before,” he said. “I was a good puncher, but stamina was not my calling card. I never trained like that before and it made me a better boxer. It helped me develop a new style.” Eventually, Foreman dropped to 229 pounds. He felt like he lost a little strength, though, and let himself get back up to 250, where he felt the power behind his punches again. He trained in his gym, often with an audience. At the beginning of his comeback, Foreman couldn’t afford to pay professional sparring partners. But he had a long line of friends from the community who wanted to help. Doctors, lawyers, businessmen all showed up to spar with “Big George,” and he took advantage. “I wouldn’t hit any of them because I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he said. “But they helped me with my defense.” His makeshift sparring partners would wait their turn and enter the ring with Foreman one at a time. They’d try to hit him while he glided around and worked on footwork and defense. Lawyer Ed Wallison, who taught aerobics and trained mixed martial arts at the time, remembers the days in the ring with Foreman fondly. “I would hop in, in head-to-toe protective gear, and we’d be in there moving around for one minute,” Wallison said, “me throwing all these weird punches and George blocking, then someone else would come in for me and he would keep going. I was in great shape and even still, I would get out of the ring after a short amount of time and be exhausted.” Foreman’s stamina was better than ever. He could block just about anything. He’d successfully lost weight and was back in fighting shape. However, to make it all work, he needed to be able to hit someone. “That was the hardest part for me,” Foreman said. “I hadn’t so much as balled up my fist in 10 years. I was a different person and coming from a different place. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I learned how to again and the difference was never throw a punch in anger.” The simple concept changed Foreman’s entire view of the sport he’d participated in for so long. “All of a sudden, I felt like, ‘Why did I leave boxing in the first place?’” he said. “Never punch in anger. If only I had captured that attitude before, I never would have left boxing.”
Things were on track for Foreman’s comeback. He started booking fights against journeymen in smaller venues to start, and it was going well. It wasn’t always fun, though. Foreman said the workouts and the fights were hard on him physically. “Sometimes my wife would have to help me so much at home because I was so sore,” he said. “My family members would come over and help rub down my muscles, massage my arms. It was painful work.” A few fights into his comeback, Foreman almost gave up. In September 1987, he fought Bobby Crabtree at the Hitchin’ Post in Springfield, Mo. It was a tough night from the get-go when Foreman arrived and found out that Crabtree was a quick-footed southpaw. “He was good,” Foreman said. “Fast on his feet, moving around and getting to me. After four full rounds, I was like, ‘What am I doing?’ I could hear people yelling, ‘he’s old’ and ‘his legs are tired.’” Foreman couldn’t sit between rounds because he was afraid he was going to struggle to get back up if he did. He eventually won the bout on a technical knockout in the sixth round. After the fight, Foreman was questioning his goals. The experience was so draining, he wasn’t sure that he really wanted to be back in the sport. “I got back home and was pretty disturbed,” he said. “Then I went to the community center and looked around and saw exactly what I was working for. I thought, ‘I’ve come this far, I’ve done the work. I can finish it.’ “No one knew that was close to the end for me. But I challenged myself. I made it through that struggle. I told myself, ‘This is rougher than I thought and each fight will get worse.’ Then I decided to keep going.” Foreman went on to appear in several more fights over the next few years, winning them all. He also grew his public persona in that time. With his newfound zest for life, Foreman was more approachable, likable and became a fan favorite.
Though most agreed that fighting at 45 years old was impressive and that he deserved a lot of credit for it, there weren’t many who thought that he would regain the heavyweight title again. In 1991, Foreman finally received a crack at his goal: He challenged Evander Holyfield for the undisputed heavyweight championship. Holyfield earned the victory via decision, but Foreman earned respect. He pushed Holyfield, 14 years his junior, to the brink in a grueling battle that was billed 'The Battle of the Ages'. It was clear now that this comeback was serious. Two years later, Foreman lost again, this time via decision to Tommy Morrison, who played Tommy Gunn in "Rocky V". Still, Foreman continued to be one of the biggest draws in the sport, and in 1994, he would have one more shot at the crown. This time, the champ was 26-year-old Michael Moorer, a fleet-of-foot boxer who upset Holyfield. That night in Las Vegas, Foreman donned the same red trunks he’d worn 20 years prior when he lost to Ali in Zaire. This time, though, he had more friends and family in attendance. He also had a new outlook and a very clear goal in mind. But early on in the bout, Foreman did not look destined to have his hand raised. “Moorer could take a punch and he was getting to me. He came out every round ready to get me. He was skillful,” Foreman said. “I stood up tall after every round and went back. For nine rounds, it seemed like he would win.” Moorer did appear to have the fight under control. He was faster than Foreman and had more energy as the action went deeper. Before the 10th round, Foreman’s trainer, Angelo Dundee, told him that he was behind on the scorecards and needed to finish the fight. “You gotta put this guy down,” Dundee told him before the 10th round. “You’re behind, baby.” Foreman was frustrated but started looking at the fight differently. He began searching for the knockout and didn’t throw his jab as much. The new game plan worked. Foreman caught Moorer’s chin with his vaunted right hand midway through the 10th, and though the punch was subtle, Moorer was in bad shape. “I knew before it was over that I had done it,” Foreman recalls. “I was heavyweight champ of the world. I was so happy. And it was different. I didn’t celebrate the same way (I had in previous title fights) because it wasn’t about me anymore.” Foreman knelt and said a prayer. He thought of all the people in Houston, his friends, his family, his community, the folks from the youth center and those in his church. “How do I tell them all thank you?” Foreman said. “That’s what I was thinking about. It wasn’t about me being the champ. It was about me not having to ask for anything but for me to be able to give everything I wanted to. It was an emotional journey."
Foreman, who lives in Huffman, Texas, just north of Houston, spends his days more quietly now. He loves being around his children and grandchildren and visiting with close friends. He’s content, peaceful and happy. The 71-year-old is still asked about his boxing days and about the comeback that will dot history books forever. With his victory over Moorer, he became the oldest fighter ever to win a world championship. He became a symbol of hard work and perseverance. He hopes that when people reflect on his journey, they take away three things. “Principles, fight and conviction,” he said. “Those are my three words. You never know when you have to fight. The most important punch you better have is your principles, and your convictions are everything.” Foreman reflects often on all the lessons life has taught him. He talks about his flaws, about his mistakes and about how he overcame them. “You don’t want to get lost in your journey,” he said. “I did for a while. And I found my way back when I knew what I needed to do. “I didn’t come back to boxing to be a champion. I became a champion because that’s what I needed to do to be able to do all the things that were important to me. That was my purpose and when it was clear, I could face any challenge.”
Sweet redemption. Foreman knocks out Michael Moorer in round 10 on November 5th, 1994 to become world heavyweight champion again, it had been 20 years since he lost the belt to Ali in Zaire. I'll never forget that moment, I was in middle school at the time when I saw it happen. The punch that did the trick didn't look like much, but Foreman had been landing heavy shots on Moorer the entire fight, slowly grinding him down and the dam finally broke in round 10 with a two punch combination, a stiff left jab followed by a short right hand.
I loved watching the comeback version of Foreman, he had a granite chin, despite being ancient in boxing years, he fought some heavy hitters, Bert Cooper, Alex Stewart, Gerry Cooney, Tommy Morrison, and none of them could hurt him. He also had tremendous heart. He still carried brutal ass power, Evander Holyfield is on record as saying 91' Foreman is the hardest he's ever been hit. It was surreal watching Foreman reinvent himself from the 70s version to a technical boxer, it was a thing of beauty watching him operate. His comeback story was amazing and it really set the precedent for athletes competing into their forties. It's just hard to imagine a 38 year old looking at the Heavyweight landscape of young, fresh prospects, and saying "I can do this."
Love this shot with the blood trickling down, comeback Foreman was a gladiator.
It's fascinating because Foreman's first career lasted 8 years, his second career lasted 10 years.
In 1990, George Foreman got Gerry Cooney with one of the most frightening knockouts you'll ever see. Foreman marched right out of his corner in round 2 and caught Cooney with a brutal left walking uppercut, and finished him with a right hand. It was similar to the punch that Jersey Joe Walcott took Ezzard Charles out with in 1951.
Foreman in his corner after flattening Cooney
Here it is, the Foreman walking uppercut on Cooney. It's crazy because Foreman was right-handed and threw that uppercut with his left, he had brutal power in both hands.
God I loved the 80s-90s version of Foreman, such a fascinating fighter.
Foreman used to train in the 80s and 90s by pulling a truck or a jeep uphill by a harness.
Foreman vs Holyfield in 1991 was an epic fight, it was called the "Battle of the Ages" because Foreman was 14 years older than Holyfield. Despite the age difference, Foreman gave Holyfield all he could handle. Love this Ring magazine cover.
The photos with boxers wearing the mask headgear are some of my favorites, here is 90s Foreman with the mask.
Comeback George Foreman. My God, what a fascinating specimen.
Joe Frazier – The Warrior’s Truth
“You put up your body, and nerve, against another man on the chance it could get you onto Easy Street. For most fighters, it didn’t turn out that way. For most fighters, boxing was a losing investment. And even for the ones who were luckier, like me, there were minuses to go with the pluses. Few of us got out scot-free.” – Joe Frazier
Joe Frazier wasn’t just a champion inside the ring he was a man who spoke with raw honesty about the brutal reality of boxing. His words remind us that behind every victory, there is sacrifice, pain, and a price to pay.
Aaron Pryor, "The Hawk", competed from 1976 to 1990, Two-time light welterweight world champion, all-time great. He used to point to his opponents before the start of each fight in an intimidating manner to let them know, "It's Hawk time." He was only defeated one time in his career, that defeat came when he was way past his prime. In his actual prime, he was unbeatable, he was a damn beast. This is one of the sickest boxing photos I've ever seen.
Carlos Ortiz, one of the greatest lightweights in history, making a pair of boxing gloves levitate. Great photo.
Kid Gavilan, welterweight champ in the 1950's, "The Cuban Hawk", one of the greatest fighters to ever lace up a pair of boxing gloves. This guy is a legend, he was famous for his "bolo punch", a combination of a hook and uppercut. He developed that bolo punch from years of cutting sugar cane with a machete in his native Cuba. Gavilan was a nightmare of an opponent to face, he never stopped throwing punches, he wasn't a hard puncher but was very aggressive with the shots he did throw, and his punches had sting on them, and he threw so many that the accumulation could really bust you up as a fight wore on. He had a chin made out of Chromium, he was never stopped or KO'd, was knocked down only twice in almost 150 fights, and Gavilan faced some of the most brutal punchers in boxing history, understanding quantum physics would be easier than knocking Kid Gavilan down on the canvas. This is one of the coolest boxing photos, Kid Gavilan lighting up a cigarette.
Immortal Champions
Kid Gavilan: The Indestructible “Cuban Hawk”
By: Mario Salomone
Feb 13, 2025
The legendary Cuban boxing great Kid Gavilan passed away on February 13, 2003, at the age of 77, in poverty and solitude. So much so that, at his burial site in a neglected area of Miami’s Our Lady of Mercy cemetery, only a simple bronze plaque was initially placed. To exhume his remains, transfer them to a more suitable location, and honor him with a proper headstone, donations from other boxing champions were needed—the most generous of which came from Mike Tyson, who contributed $5,000 despite having recently declared bankruptcy at the time. And yet, during his years of glory, the “Cuban Hawk” wrote indelible pages in boxing history, establishing himself as one of the greatest welterweights of all time.
Lacking Power, Sublime in Everything Else: The Artist of the “Bolo Punch”:
When Mother Nature handed out gifts to little Gerardo Gonzalez—Gavilan’s birth name—she likely realized she had given him too many and decided to withhold power. In every other aspect, the “Cuban Hawk” had it all: as fast as a feline, as solid as a rock, technically mesmerizing, and mentally unbreakable. Had he also possessed knockout power, he might have challenged Sugar Ray Robinson for the title of the greatest boxer in history. Instead, out of 143 professional fights, he won only 28 by knockout, far more often relying on the judges—sometimes to his detriment. If the fighter from Camagüey lacked a one-punch finisher in his offensive arsenal, he made up for it with a spectacular weapon: the unmistakable bolo punch. The invention of this unique swinging uppercut—executed by winding the arm backward before striking—is traditionally credited to Filipino fighter Ceferino Garcia. However, Gavilan developed it on his own, as the motion was the same one he used when cutting sugarcane in Cuba’s vast fields!
From Early Days at Home to a World Title Shot Against the God of Boxing:
Turning professional at just 17, Gavilan fought most of his early bouts in Cuba, with occasional trips to Mexico. It took four years before he moved permanently to the United States, where he immediately showcased his talent, quickly earning high-profile fights. Though he initially lost to more experienced elite fighters like Ike Williams and Sugar Ray Robinson, the young Cuban won the public’s admiration. In both cases, the crowd loudly booed the decisions, protesting the result against Robinson so fiercely that the event had to be interrupted to restore order. Growing more confident in his abilities, Gavilan won both the rematch and the rubber match against Williams, earning a shot at the welterweight world title held by that same Sugar Ray Robinson, who had previously beaten him in a non-title bout. Having never fought beyond ten rounds, Gavilan remained highly competitive through the first six but faded down the stretch, losing by decision. His date with destiny would have to wait.
Ups and Downs, a World Title, and Controversy:
The following years saw fluctuating fortunes, with one constant: judges, audiences, and journalists often saw three different fights, leading to endless debates. By the end of his career, Gavilan had amassed a record 19 split decisions—11 in his favor, 8 against him. While frequently fighting on the road may have worked against him, the backing of his managers—who had ties to organized crime and connections to the notorious Italian-American mobster Frankie Carbo—might have opened some doors for him. However, there was no controversy when he finally became world champion in May 1951, dominating titleholder Johnny Bratton on points and breaking his jaw in the process. Things were quite different in his first title defense: Billy Graham lost via a controversial split decision, which became infamous when, on his deathbed, judge Arthur Schwartz confessed to favoring Gavilan out of intimidation from his entourage. To be fair, though, Graham had been too passive in the first half of the fight, which was extremely close regardless.
A Punch Against Racism and the Destruction of the Undefeated:
After yet another questionable decision—an absurd draw in a non-title bout against former champion Johnny Bratton, whom Gavilan had clearly dominated—the Cuban defended his belt in a historic fight against southpaw Bobby Dykes in Miami. It was the first time in Florida’s history that a Black fighter faced a white opponent for a world title. Dykes even received death threats from fanatics accusing him of “dishonoring the white race” by agreeing to fight a Black man, but he stepped into the ring, fought courageously, and lost by a narrow margin. Not only did Gavilan never fear hostile crowds, but he also had no qualms about taking on undefeated fighters: first Gil Turner and then Chuck Davey were both dismantled by the Cuban Hawk, staining their perfect records for the first time. Between those two fights, Gavilan also granted Billy Graham another title shot, but once again, Graham had legitimate reasons to feel wronged. Upon arriving in Cuba, he was arrested on a ridiculous pretext and held in jail for several days before the fight. It was no surprise, then, that this time, the bout was completely one-sided.
The Last Trumpets of the “Cuban Hawk”:
Before his inevitable decline, Gavilan still had a few tricks up his sleeve. His last two successful title defenses saw him first overcome the formidable Italian-American Carmen Basilio and then his old rival Johnny Bratton once more. At the time, Basilio had yet to carve his name into the history books—he was in the midst of making the crucial improvements that would later make him an indomitable fighter. Gavilan suffered only the second and last knockdown of his career and struggled with the challenger’s unorthodox style. However, his greater ring savvy in close quarters allowed him to recover in the second half of the fight and edge out a narrow victory. His revenge against Bratton, on the other hand, was overwhelming. This time, no judge in the world could have gifted Bratton a draw: Gavilan toyed with him like a cat with a mouse for half the fight before launching a devastating bombardment that repeatedly had the poor challenger on the verge of a knockout. Bratton’s immense pride kept him on his feet until the final bell, but Gavilan walked away with a lopsided decision victory.
The Missed Triumph and the Final Betrayal:
After three years of dominance in the welterweight division, Kid Gavilan could not resist the urge to cement his legacy by chasing the middleweight crown. Before facing champion Bobo Olson, the Cuban stepped on the scale without even removing his clothes—yet the needle stopped two kilos below the middleweight limit. To make matters worse, he had suffered a right-hand injury in his previous fight, forcing him to rely almost entirely on his left. The mountain proved too steep to climb, and the Cuban Hawk was forced to return to the 147-pound division, where one last betrayal awaited him. Facing challenger Johnny Saxton—a fighter whose career was deeply entangled with mob interests—Gavilan engaged in an ugly, clinch-filled bout that lacked significant action. Still, according to most observers, he had done more than enough to win. But that wasn’t the official verdict: yet another split decision, this time against him, bringing an inglorious end to a reign that, despite all its controversies, remains extraordinary.
The path Gavilan embarked on that night eventually led to his passing in 2003, after eight years in a care facility where his health deteriorated day by day. Shamefully forgotten by those closest to him in the final phase of his life, the Hawk of Camagüey will never be forgotten by boxing fans. Thanks to the noble efforts of fighters like Roberto Duran, Leon Spinks, Buddy McGirt, Emile Griffith, and the aforementioned Mike Tyson, visitors can now pay their respects at a headstone truly worthy of a world champion.
Chuck Davey was a slick boxer, an Irish Southpaw with an awkward style, I love watching Davey on film, very unique fighter. Davey brought his unbeaten record against Kid Gavilan in 1953, but was no match for the Keed.
Kid Gavilan made a dominant defense of the welterweight championship with a 10th round TKO of Chuck Davey at Chicago Stadium in Chicago, Illinois in 1953.
Davey came into the fight at 37-0-2, but it turned out Gavilan was simply on a different level than the unbeaten Detroit fighter.
Gavilan had his way and put Davey on the canvas for a nine-count in round 3. In rounds 5 and 6, Gavilan turned southpaw seemingly to prove a point about being able to defeat him any way he wanted, then continued to fight in control. In round 9, Gavilan sent Davey down three times hard, with the third knockdown coming just before the bell. Davey made it to his feet at nine, and was in the process of falling down again when the bell rang.
After the 9th, Davey's corner mercifully pulled the plug and saved their fighter.
"He never hurt me," Gavilan said. "After I knocked him down in the third round I was not worried. I fought southpaw to show him I could fight that way too. Davey is nice boy, but he needs more experience. He is polite too. He butted me and said he's sorry."
Kid Gavilan was no joke, he is a legend in boxing history, he fought apocalyptic battles in the ring, against the likes of Ike Williams, Gil Turner, Carmen Basilio, Sugar Ray Robinson, Johnny Bratton, Johnny Saxton, Tiger Jones, Gaspar Ortega, Beau Jack, Tony Demarco, Rocky Castellani, Eduardo Lausse, Laurent Dauthuille, Bobo Olson, Billy Graham. It's the strongest era in welterweight history, when freakin' dinosaurs roamed the Earth, and Gavilan was a T-Rex. His fight with Gil Turner was one for the books, one of the greatest fights of all-time. Gil Turner was a tough unbeaten Philadelphia brawler, gunslinger, always looking to turn a fight into a shootout. Kid Gavilan gave him one hell of a gun battle. I don't think Gil Turner quite knew what he was up against in this fight, a man with an undentable chin, endless stamina, iron will, ridiculous determination, and just as much firepower as him, if not more. Starting a shootout with Gavilan was like poking a hornet's nest, it was right up his alley, Gavilan was a damn beast.
In 1952, undefeated North Philly welterweight, Gil Turner fought the biggest fight of his life when he took on a legend in the making, welterweight champ Kid Gavilan of Cuba. The twenty-one year old Turner was the hottest of prospects at 31-0 with 26 KOs when he stepped up for his big opportunity. His urgent, windmill style had been thrilling fans in his two years as a pro and he figured to be an interesting match for the experienced Cuban. Many felt that a fight against Gavilan was too much too soon for the still-developing Turner. But his recent body count of opponents - especially greats like Ike WIlliams & Beau Jack - indicated that the time was right. Gil's manager George Katz fought for the title shot and got it.
The fight itself was quite a contest. Turner charged out and threw punches in his usual non-stop fashion. He landed well, especially early, scoring many shots and sending a message to the Kid. But Gavilan bit down and began to use his superior skills to not only fend off the young lion, but to begin to wound him. Gavilan hurt Turner in the fifth and sixth, but Gil kept moving forward and kept swinging. After ten rounds, the fight was even. However, the tenth was a big one for Gavilan. He hurt Turner again and for the first time in his career it appeared that Gil was running out of gas.
As the championship rounds began, Gavilan turned up the heat and went in for the kill. He landed booming, unanswered shots. Turner was seriously hurt but wouldn't go down. Finally with Turner trapped on the ropes, Gavilan fired away until referee Pete Tomasco jumped in to stop it. It was a glorious win for Gavilan, a win of a true champion. For Turner, it was his most memorable fight in a career full of exciting, unforgettable matches. He would be a contender for years to come, but never again vie for a title.
This great fight took place at Municipal Stadium before a big crowd of 39,025 and held the attendance record for welterweight title fights until 1980, when the first Roberto Duran vs. Sugar Ray Leonard bout finally drew more fans.
The Gavilan-Turner fight was the second of three big events held in Philadelphia during the summer of 1952. The first was Walcott-Charles IV in June and the third was Maricano vs. Walcott I in September. All three fights were held at Municipal Stadium and prompted 1952 to be called Philadelphia's greatest boxing season.
Kid Gavilan vs Johnny "Honey Boy" Bratton, they fought three times. It was one of the greatest rivalries in boxing history. I love Johnny Bratton, watching him on film he reminds you a lot of Sugar Ray Robinson, his smooth style, he even resembles Robinson in appearance, great fighter. Bratton went life-and-death with Gavilan in their trilogy, Gavilan beat him for the world welterweight title in the first fight, the kid broke Bratton's jaw in that fight, Bratton's jaw was broken within the first five rounds.
Despite the injury, Bratton continued to fight the full 15 rounds and lost by a unanimous decision to Gavilan, who claimed the vacant NBA World Welterweight Championship title. The second fight was one of the best fights you'll ever see, a back and forth war that ended in a draw. By the time the third fight rolled around, Bratton was pretty much a shop-worn fighter, he put up a good effort but ended up taking a horrendous beating from Gavilan in their third fight.
Geez, I could go on all night long about Kid Gavilan, such a great great fighter, so many epic battles, such a legend. Gavilan vs Carmen Basilio, this is one of the two knockdowns that Gavilan had in his career, take a good look at this photo because this is one of the rarest sights in boxing history, Gavilan tasting the canvas, looking at this photo is like looking at an actual Bigfoot, you just didn't see this happen. Carmen Basilio is one of the two men who can claim they knocked down the iron-chinned Gavilan. Despite the knockdown, this fight was won by Gavilan, he won it by a 15-round split decision. The other man who can claim that he knocked down Kid Gavilan is the murderous punching Ike Williams, but there is no photo of that knockdown to my knowledge.
So many epic fights, Gavilan vs Basilio.
Gavilan vs Ike Williams.
Kuf Gavilan throwing his famous "bolo punch" against Laurent Dauthuille.
Gavilan vs Sugar Ray Robinson.
Gavilan vs Billy Graham.
Gavilan vs Rocky Castellani.
Gavilan vs Tiger Jones.
Gavilan vs Bobby Dykes.
Gavilan dipping his swollen hands in a bucket of ice after a fight.
Great shot of Gavilan in a fight pose, love the checkered floor.
Gavilan vs Gil Turner.
Gavilan hitting the speed bag with his trainer Mundito Medina over top watching, great boxing photo.
Gavilan vs Chuck Davey.
Gavilan signing autographs for a couple of young fans.
Gavilan skipping rope during training.
Wicked fight pose.
Gavilan in the cover of Ring magazine in 1949.
The great Kid Gavilan.