Fighting from Bern in Enicar trunks: Fritz Chervet
Jordan & Nike, Jackson & Pepsi, 007 & Omega. For many decades commercial brands have teamed up with celebrities to endorse their products to a large audience. A proven marketing strategy, although not without risks. The King of Pop became Pepsi’s posterboy in 1984, but would be surrounded by scandals the last 15 years of his life. Imagine the reputation damage for Pepsi if their partnership had continued.
Already in 1957 Enicar contracted British Formula One racing driver Stirling Moss to be the company’s ambassador. In the same period, British multiple motorcycle Grand Prix road racing world champion Geoff Duke and world top-ranking amateur and professional tennis player Ken Rosewall starred in Enicar’s advertisements. And in 1960, gentleman racing driver Jim Clark was added to the campaign. ‘Champions prefer Enicar’ was the brand’s slogan for many years and it turned out to be a successful one.
In 1973, Enicar supported Bern born professional boxer Fritz Chervet in his European flyweight title fight against Italian champ Fernando Atzori. Chervet already beat Atzori in a title fight in March 1972, but he lost his belt a year later. Chervet was eager to reclaim the crown. In a pair of black trunks with the Enicar brand name and logo sued on, Chervet knocked out Atzori in the seventh round, earning him the title for the fifth time in his career. His best fight ever, according to the sports press.
The title fight ended in round 7 when Chervet knocked out Atzori
The event took place on December 26 in the Zürcher Hallenstadion and was broadcasted on national television (a full color recap of the fight can be found here). That broad publicity could have been the reason why Enicar decided to sponsor Chervet for the occasion. Because Enicar and boxing seems to be way less plausible than supporting racing sports, where precision timing is a key factor. On the other hand, Fritz Chervet was a Swiss born athlete, a national celebrity and, apparently, a very modest and hard working man. Chervet was called a ‘good guy’ by his friends and opponents, qualities that certainly matched the Enicar philosophy. After his career ended, he worked as a doorman at the Federal Palace in Bern until 2007. He had to work for a living. To put things into perspective: over his career, Floyd ‘Money’ Mayweather jr. earned an estimated $1.1 billion dollars…
Fritz Chervet and his trainer Charly Bühler in Enicar training suit. Note the Saturn logo that is sued on Chervet’s trunks upside down
So how much money did Chervet make with this fight? Who knows. The sponsorship deal with Enicar did however earn him a watch. That’s right, a watch! According to Enicar’s corporate journal Saturn, Chervet was invited by Ariste O. Racine to the office in Lengnau and given carte blanche to choose any watch from Enicar’s line-up. Unfortunately, the report does not say which model he picked. Fritz Chervet died on August 29, 2020 at the age of 77, but the family name lives on. Fritz’ nephew Alain Chervet is a professional boxer who fights in the super lightweight division. ‘Gute Technik, eiserner Wille und Disziplin’ is what he inherited from his uncle.
Fritz Chervet vs Chartnai Chionoi in 1974, Chervet fought him twice for the world flyweight title but came up short on both occasions. A lot of people think Chervet deserved the decision and the title against Chionoi the second time around but Chervet lost via split decision, it caused riots to break out back in his home country of Switzerland. I haven't seen the full fight so I'm not in a position to comment on it. Epic image of Chervet and Chionoi shoulder-to-shoulder as they walk to their corners.
Fritz Chervet successfully defends his European flyweight title against John "The Globetrotter" McCluskey in 1972, this was a great rivalry, they fought eachother three times with Chervet winning the series 2-1.
Fritz Chervet knocks out Fernando Atzori in 1973 to recapture the European flyweight title, another great rivalry, they fought three times with Chervet winning the series 2-1.
Here are some highlights of Fritz Chervet vs Chartchai Chionoi in 1974, Chervet really was a great little fighter, he utilized a high guard and good movement, making it very difficult to land anything effective against him, he obviously understood the art of not getting hit. He had a good jab, and sneaky power that you had to be careful about, a very fundamentally sound boxer, his trainer Charly Buhler taught him well.
Middleweight great Carlos Monzon was killed on January 8th in 1995 when the car he was driving ran off a country road and overturned. He was 52 years old. Another passenger was killed and injured a third in the crash. He was returning to Las Flores Prison where he was serving eleven years for the killing of his common-law wife, Alicia Muniz.
During a fight, she fell to her death from a second-story balcony. Monzon also fell from the balcony and suffered two broken ribs and a broken clavicle.
An autopsy showed Muniz was strangled to the point of unconsciousness before she falling from the balcony.
Monzon, on furlough for good behavior, was allowed to spend weekends in his hometown of San Javier.
As a fighter he was a graceful and cold destroyer. Boxing historian Bert Sugar wrote: "Carlos Monzon was hardly the off-the-rack pug with a nose you could hang your hat on. Instead, he had the reserved looks of a matinee idol, one with delicately marked brows, an unmarked face, and a remarkable body that could serve as a model for Hollywood beefcake pictures. And he fought the same way, with a coolness that could no more be melted than ice welded, his style a cross between aggressive caution and cautious aggression. With a long right hand thrown in for good measure.”
Check this out, this is so cool, I was finally able to find the photo that was used for the image on the 1938 American Sweets Knockout Bubble Gum Jackie Fields card. This set is probably the rarest boxing card set on this planet. The cards were manufactured in Manila Philippines in 1938, but it is believed that the manufacturing was cut short because of Japanese bombings, nevertheless some of the cards managed to survive and make there way over seas to the United States, very mysterious set.
"Irish Bob Murphy earned a shot at the light heavyweight title by battering ex-middleweight champ Jake LaMotta into such helplessness he was unable to answer the bell for the 8th round Wednesday night at Yankee Stadium. Blood-smeared LaMotta staggered to his corner at the end of the 7th and his handlers notified Dr. Vincent Nardiello that he didn't feel well enough to continue. There were no knockdowns but LaMotta was knocked back on his heels several times by the southpaw's left uppercuts and short hooks to the head. LaMotta threatened in the 3rd and 4th rounds, giving his opponent a body beating, but Murphy decided the fight in the 5th by giving Jake one of the most intense three-minute beatings of his career, using Jake's bleeding face as a punching bag for uppercuts and hooks. At the finish, LaMotta was bleeding from gashes on both brows, a cut on his chin and a badly battered nose, while Murphy bled from a cut left brow and his lower lip." - United Press
''I was only thirteen. And here's the kicker, I was five-foot one inch tall and weighed a hundred and eighty pounds. Life wasn't easy for me. The kids called me 'fatty' and there seemed little chance that I would ever be an athlete. I couIdn't take the ribbing, so I started to work out at the St. Mary's CYO Gym, where Whitey Esnault trained his fighters.
Boxing held little interest for me other than as a means of getting in shape and losing that miserable fat. I punched a bag in a side room where nobody could see the jello bounce and quiver. I only ate one meal a day - a probIem with my mother - and I never went to the beach because I always attracted a crowd like a side show.
I didn't want to be a punch-drunk fighter. I thought I'd have one or two bouts, win a trophy or so and then quit. Things rareIy turn out as you figure it.''
"Irish" Joey Archer, middleweight in the 1960s. He's honestly one of my favorite boxers to watch on film, couldn't crack an egg, but an absolute master boxer. If Archer had legitimate knockout power, he would have been truly frightening. That being said, he was such a skilled boxer that he still managed to beat Rubin "Hurricane" Carter, Holly Mims, Dick Tiger, Jose "Monon" Gonzalez, and is probably most famous for retiring the great Sugar Ray Robinson.
Hannibal Boxing
Brief Lives: Joey Archer
June 22, 2018
By: Carlos Acevedo
A comebacking Ingemar Johansson, who had just seen his reign as heavyweight champion halted by Floyd Patterson, hardly inspired his supporters when, in a huff, he ejected one of his livelier sparring partners from the ring. The “Hammer of Thor” had been cuffed around before a cluster of reporters at his West Palm Beach training camp. And who was it that had made the usually affable Johansson lose his cool? It was a cocky middleweight with shincrack footwork and a jab that flapped and fluttered as fast as the wings of a hummingbird: Joey Archer, a cocky Pelham Parkway Fancy Dan who was as quick with the Bronx cheer as he was with a right cross. “Give me a few more pounds and I could take that bum,” Archer boasted after being sacked from his twenty-five-dollar-a-day gig with Johansson.
Even with blazing Muhammad Ali setting alight headlines and newscasts from one end of the country to the other, boxing was barely simmering in the mid-1960s. The televised Kefauver hearings and the death of Benny Paret had laid bare the dark heart of boxing for Mr. and Mrs. Suburban America to see and, as a result, the straight world turned away from the graft, the grift, the grime. There was Ali, of course, and the bruising Los Angeles scene, dominated by the Chicano and Mexican afición. There were also a handful of microstars who fought in Madison Square Garden: Jose Torres, Dick Tiger, Emile Giffith, and Archer, the last of the fighting Irish. Archer was a New York favorite—like a pastrami hero or a bagel with lox—but although he was a bona fide box-office V.I.P., Archer was less popular among boxing insiders. “Archer is a stinking, rotten national disgrace as No. 1 contender!” bellowed Carmen Tedeschi, a New Jersey-based manager whose fighter, Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, had lost a hairpin decision to Archer in 1963.
For most of the 1960s, Joey Archer was a stalwart middleweight contender, but he was denied a title shot until he was twenty-eight years old and on the downside. During that era, the 160-pound scene was dominated by a handful of fighters who played salugi with the middleweight title: Gene Fullmer, Dick Tiger, Emile Griffith, and Nino Benvenuti, with cameo appearances by Paul Pender, Terry Downes, and Joey Giardello.
Archer was born on February 11, 1938, and dropped out of high school to haunt the local gyms that dotted the Bronx in those days. As an amateur, Archer reached the Golden Gloves finals as a sub-novice on the same night his brother, Jimmy, won the open division title. After turning pro in 1956, Archer, now with Jimmy acting as his manager, was a regular at the St. Nicholas Arena and on the undercards of Madison Square Garden bills. Then, suddenly, Archer disappeared from The Big Apple and spent the next eighteen months fighting in Texas, roughly 1,500 miles from Eighth Avenue. When Archer returned to New York in 1960, he was sidelined after straining ligaments in his knee. Eventually, he would remain idle for almost a year and a half. In his first fight back, Archer dropped a grueling decision to one of the most hazardous middleweights of the 1960s: Jose “Monon” Gonzalez. It was his first loss in thirty-one outings. Two months later, Archer won the rematch, and zoomed into title contention—where he remained in a frustrating holding pattern. Over the next few years, wins over Don Fullmer, Holly Mims, Rubin Carter, and Dick Tiger brought Archer no closer to his dream of being champion.
After scoring an upset over Dick Tiger in 1963 to win the middleweight title, Joey Giardello lollygagged on his return clause. Nearly two years would pass before Giardello faced Tiger again. In the meantime, Giardello, already in his mid-thirties when he won the title, was less than enthusiastic about facing Archer. When Giardello chose to make his first title defense against Hurricane Carter, even other contenders noted the absurdity of skipping over Archer. “Giardello took the easy way out,” Dick Tiger said. “He picked Carter instead of me. Why, even Archer deserved a shot before Carter, but I guess Giardello figures Archer was too much for him.”
If Archer is remembered at all, it is probably as the answer to a trivia question regarding one of the immortals: Who was the last man Sugar Ray Robinson faced in the ring? In 1965 Archer made headlines by forcing Robinson, after more than twenty-five years, to finally retire. By then, Sugar Ray was gray at the temples, frayed from the rigors of two hundred bouts, and lugging a battered suitcase around (in lieu of a rowdy entourage) from backwater to backwater during his dreary last days. Archer floored Robinson in the fourth round en route to a leisurely (and, no doubt, merciful) 10-round decision, but not even a win over faded boxing royalty could vault Archer into a championship bout.
By late 1965, Archer had amassed a record of 45-1, with eight knockouts. He specialized in pirouettes, ronds, arabesques; his deft steps in the ring, combined with his flicking jab, could frustrate some of the best middleweights in the world. But his right hand carried less pop than an old can of Dr. Pepper. That, combined with a stingy work rate and his tendency to cut, often made it hard for Archer to definitively outstrip the competition. Narrow wins over Mims, Carter, and Tiger drew as many boos as cheers from the rafters in Madison Square Garden and opponents found themselves muttering near-philosophical aphorisms to the press. “I thought I won,” Rubin Carter said after dropping a decision to Archer, “but I lost.”
Archer was inactive for most of 1965 and closed out the year with a dubious loss to Don Fullmer in Boston. Still, a longstanding kvetching campaign engineered by Jimmy Archer—one that included snarky ads placed in local newspapers—finally drove Emile Griffith, who had beaten Dick Tiger for the middleweight crown in April 1966, to offer Archer what he wanted more than anything: a shot at history.
On July 13, 1966, Griffith and Archer headlined Madison Square Garden, where more than thirteen thousand raucous spectators braved a 100-degree summer day to watch two of the most popular fighters in New York City create their own mini-inferno in the ring. After fifteen seesaw rounds, Griffith was declared the winner by majority decision. It was a close fight, with Archer opening up an early lead and Griffith bullyragging through the middle rounds, but the last third of the bout belonged to the champion. All those long years of waiting had led Archer to his bitterest defeat yet.
Seven months later, on January 23, 1967, Griffith repeated, scoring a unanimous decision over a more defensive Archer. This time a crowd of 14,838, most of them rooting for Archer, packed the Garden, and just as they had the previous summer, they left disappointed with the decision. “I thought I won both fights,” Archer told The Ring in 2001. “But he was a great fighter and he’s a nice person. Today, it doesn’t mean anything.” Back then, however, it must have meant everything. Joey Archer never fought again.
Brilliant summary of Joey Archer from member Tommy Hearns on boxing forum 24:
"Recently I’ve been studying up on 60s middleweights, and naturally Joey Archer comes into the equation. After careful deliberation and close study of the man in action on film, I’ve come up with this conclusion: damn what an underrated fighter. You don’t beat guys like Carter, Tiger, Gonzalez, and Mims (although controversial) by being an average, run of the mill contender; Joey was a boxer’s boxer with an uncanny defensive radar and a left jab as sharp and straight as an arrow (pun intended).
The big reason Archer never broke out into the big leagues like a man of his skill set should of, was mostly due to poor promotion and the reluctance of other fighters to meet him in the ring. His safety-first, peck and move style was never a big draw either; Archer’s game was textbook front to back, but he polished up his craft well. A peak Archer was a top tier ring mechanic whose skills would please the most stern faced purists and baffle most middles who put physical gifts over technical prowess. Although never a heavy hitter, his timing and punch placement were that of a seasoned veteran; Ron Lipton (who actually saw Archer fight Dick Tiger live in the front row at Madison Square Garden) described of a particular instance where Joey caught Tiger with a perfectly executed one-two that almost had the latter hitting the canvas. This was the same Dick Tiger who had warred with and conquered guys like Henry Hank, Florentino Fernandez, and Rubin Carter without a scratch to prove it.
Emile Griffith himself once called Archer the best ‘boxer’ he had ever faced; quite a complement considering Griffith fought virtually everyone under the sun during his heyday."
1963, Joey Archer vs Rubin "Hurricane" Carter. This is one of the most menacing boxing photos I've ever seen, knowing who Rubin Carter was and his background, the look on Carter's face and the sight of those fists is enough to send chills up your spine. Rubin Carter was a legitimate scary guy and those hands did a lot of damage inside and outside the ring. They didn't call him "Hurricane" for no reason, he fought like one and he lived like one. I'll say it again, if you lived in Paterson, New Jersey, in the 1960s, you knew to stay the hell away from Carter, very violent man.
Joey Archer vs Rubin Carter wasn't televised which is a shame because I would love to see this fight, a master boxer against a murderous puncher is a dream stylistic matchup. Archer had his hands full with Carter, any middleweight in history would, but he outboxed Carter and won a split decision. One thing about Archer, he had a granite chin, he took some absolutely brutal shots from Carter and during his career, but no one could ever take him out. This is a fight report from United Press in 1963.
Archer Wins Split Vote, Calls For Dick Tiger"
United Press International | October 26, 1963
Irish Joey Archer, a superb boxer, will file a middleweight title challenger and $2,500 check with the New York State Athletic Commission Monday because of his controversial upset decision Friday over slugger Rubin (Hurricane) Carter, top contender.
Dick Tiger of Nigeria is world champion.
Rangy, brown-haired Archer of New York staggered to a split decision victory over Carter of Paterson, N.J., who had 25-year-old Joey on the verge of a knockout in the final round at Madison Square Garden before 8,592 electrified spectators.
Their thrilling 10-round fight was not televised.
Archer, a 2-1 underdog, was awarded a split decision at the finish, for his seventh straight win. It was on a rounds basis as follows: Referee Arthur Mercante, 5-4-1, and Tony Castellano, 6-4. But judge Al Berl had Carter ahead, 6-4.
The United Press International also favored Carter, 5-4-1, and a poll of 16 writers at the ringside had Carter narrowly ahead, 8-7-1.
Archer weighed 161 pounds to 28-year-old Carter's 158.
Former dockworker Joey gave a magnificent display of boxing skill as he scored his 37th victory in 38 bouts. In the first two rounds and in the fifth and seventh, Joey's "repeater" left jabs and following rights had the mustachioed New Jersey slugger off-balance and sometimes missing wildly.
But it was Carter who stalked his opponent about the ring and threw harmful hooking bombs in the third, fourth, sixth, eighth and 10th.
In 1964 Joey Archer outboxed the immortal Dick Tiger and surprisingly caught the iron-chinned Tiger with a combination that buckled his knees, Archer was not known for power punching. This fight really demonstrated what a masterful, slick, tactical boxer Joey Archer was. Epic photo right here of Archer measuring Tiger.
Archer Beats Dick Tiger Here With Hit‐and‐Run Boxing Style
Credit...The New York Times Archives
October 17, 1964
Joey Archer of the Bronx contained the dynamite‐laden fists of Dick Tiger of Nigeria last night and unleashed enough firepower to score a majority decision in their 10‐round middleweight fight at Madison Square Garden.
A crowd of 9,098, paying $36,000, watched the second non-televised card of the season at the Garden.
Archer, the No. 2 ranking middleweight contender for the title held by Joey Giardello, was slammed into the lower ring rope in the fifth round by a looping right, but Referee Zack Clayton ruled it a slip instead of a knockdown and stopped the mandatory 8‐count at 2.
That was the only time either fighter was off his feet, but Archer produced the biggest thrill of the bout. In the second round, the Bronx boxer, noted for his skill rather than his power, unleashed a double right‐left combination to the chin that buckled Tiger's knees briefly.
It was Archer's surprising punching power, coupled with his fancy jabbing and footwork, that earned him the victory. Both Clayton and Judge Al Berl, a former referee, favored Archer.
Clayton gave Joey the largest margin, six rounds to three with one even. Berl had Archer by five rounds to four with one even. The other judge, Tony Castellano, favored Tiger, 5‐4‐1. The Times score card had each man winning five rounds.
Tiger, the former 160‐pound champion, was a frustrated man at the finish. The 35‐yearold Nigerian missed frequently with his powerful left hook.
Archer fought a brilliant battle, moving in with stinging jabs, then moving away from Tiger's power. Just as often, Joey would switch his tactics and choose to fight.
I It was in those exchanges that the 26‐year‐old Irishman gained the advantage, beating the floundering Tiger to the punch with snappy combinations to the head or body.
Archer's defense showed up beautifully in the ninth, Tiger chased Joey into a neutral corner and blazed away with both hands, but Archer, bobbing and weaving, caught most of the punches on his forearms and escaped damage.
A poll of writers at the ringside showed seven in favor of Archer, seven in favor of Tiger and four scoring the bout even.
The victory was the 13th in succession for Archer, and the 44th of his career against one defeat. Tiger, his title hopes ruined by the loss, suffered his 14th setback against 49 triumphs and three draws.
The Garden said before the bout that it had hoped to match the winner with the winner of the title fight in Las Vegas, Nev., next Friday between Giardello and Rubin Carter. Archer already has defeated Carter here in a nontelevised bout that drew a gate of $36,000 last year.
On November 10th in 1965, the great "Sugar" Ray Robinson fought for the 201st and final time, losing a 10-round unanimous decision to Joey Archer in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Robinson hit the deck in round 4 and looked tired and flat as his record was cemented at 174-19-6 with 109 knockouts.
The Bitter End For Sugar Ray
By: Martin Kane
Sports Illustrated
November 22, 1965
The plan had been for Sugar Ray Robinson to work up through the ranks once more and thus earn his way into what would have been his 16th middleweight championship fight. Only Sugar Ray, and perhaps some of his idolatrous entourage, believed in the plan. He had won that 160-pound championship five times, more than any other man, and the welterweight title once, and he thought that at the age of 45 he could do it again. He must have believed it or else he would not have fought nine times last year and 13 this year, losing to nonentities in the Altoonas of boxing and winning against unknowns, taking his lumps on each occasion for a $1,000 purse here, $2,000 there. A great mystery was made of why he bothered with the travail of training, put up with the one-night stands in tank towns or endured those inglorious lickings he took from fighters who will never fight in Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium or Las Vegas.
He did not need the money. The Internal Revenue Service recently turned over to him $344,000 it had withheld, against taxes, since 1957. Robinson owns property in Cleveland and Chicago, having sold his Harlem holdings. He has contracts to make two movies, one a Western, the other a war picture. He is well-fixed financially. In the end, you had to believe that he was striving honestly for a title fight.
He came surprisingly close to getting it. Last week Joey Archer, a fine boxer with but a modest punch, stood between Sugar Ray and an opportunity to meet the middleweight champion, Dick Tiger. If he were to defeat Archer, the No. 1 contender in most ratings—and one good left hook would do it—Sugar Ray would all but surely have earned a sixth chance at the middleweight crown despite his 45 years. So, on a Wednesday night in Pittsburgh, he faced the blue-eyed, broken-nosed Archer before a crowd of 9,023, many of them oldtimers who fondly remembered Robinson in his glory days, and among them a sprinkling of younger men who wanted to see what the legend was about.
Robinson weighed 160 pounds, Archer a pound less. Under the lights of the television cameras at the weigh-in ceremony the tiny, well-healed scars at the outer corner of each of Sugar's eyes could be seen. But there were no other marks to show for his 25 years of prizefighting and 198 bouts. Outwardly his body was as sleek as ever and his waist as trim. What remained inside would be seen that night.
Archer is a superior boxer. He has a classic jab, some effective feints and good footwork. He has lost only once in 47 fights. He has been knocked down but once, too, in one of his early matches, and then only his knee touched the canvas.
As soon as the fight started it became clear that both men intended to follow the same plan—but for quite different reasons. Robinson came out intent on winning early, presumably because he has learned that his aging legs no longer serve him well in the late rounds. Archer's strategy was much the same, for he wanted to press Robinson at all times, and thus drain Sugar Ray of whatever stamina he had as quickly and thoroughly as possible.
With both men charging at each other, it started as an interesting fight and it remained one, even though there was little doubt about the result after the first few rounds. What had happened to Robinson's timing showed with the first hook he threw. It was a long, powerful swing, delivered from far back, precisely the hook with which he knocked out Gene Fullmer in the 1957 title fight, except that it missed Archer's chin by five inches. A minute or so later Robinson tried the hook again and missed again. Archer jabbed and faded out of range, jabbed and faded repeatedly, once scoring prettily with a combination to body and head.
The Robinson strategy still was operative in the second round, and this time it worked a bit better. He started out with a left and right to Archer's body. Joey is one who fights back, and he drove Robinson almost to the ropes with a flurry of head punches. His older brother, Jimmy, who manages and trains him, saw that Archer's temper was showing and shouted at him from the corner. "Loose, Joey," he commanded. "Stick! Stick! Loosen up, Joey!" The moment of danger passed. Joey went back to his jab, and Sugar missed with a right and left. Those misses opened the way for Archer to land eight quick punches to the head, but all were too high to be damaging.
Now it was the third round, and Robinson still was trying for the big punch. He had one hook blocked, he landed a right to the body, and then, with a single brilliant flash of his old talents, caught Archer with a very good hook, closed with him and, as they stood toe to toe, scored with a flurry.
But that was the end. Early in the fourth, after Archer had hooked him twice and landed some light jabs, Sugar missed with a big right hand. A look of concern came over his face. Archer was jabbing and moving, and Robinson was missing with rights and lefts. Then, suddenly, Archer landed a left to the head and followed it immediately with a long right. Sugar Ray went down on the seat of his white silk trunks, rolled to his side and, dazed, took a nine-count resting on one knee. Now Sugar and everyone knew that his fight plan had failed, and so had his grand plan. The last time the light-hitting Archer had knocked a man down was in 1960.
The rest of the fight was nothing but the last steps down for a gallant Robinson. He all but hit the canvas again in the sixth and once again in the seventh, looked better in the eighth and slugged it out with Archer in the ninth. In the last minute of the 10th round men at ringside were standing and pleading, "Don't hit him again, Joey! That's enough!" As the fighters awaited the decision after the final bell tears welled into Robinson's bloodshot eyes. There was a tiny cut, a mere scratch, on his right cheekbone. His nose was ruddy from all those jabs. He was breathing heavily. His legs were leaden. He knew.
It had been a long and glorious trail for Sugar Ray Robinson, who just may have been the best fighter ever. His skills were exquisite, his punch superb, his courage unsurpassed. But, as he had just learned, there always comes a day when only the courage remains.
The soft-spoken Archer held court in his dressing room.
"He's a tough guy," Archer said. "He is one of the cagiest old guys in boxing. He feints—most fighters today can't do that. He is the greatest fighter I ever saw among the middleweights."
And in a nearby room, the bleary-eyed Robinson was refusing to concede that he had fought his last.
"I want to get a night's sleep before I make up my mind," he said.
Next afternoon at the airport, waiting for a plane to take him back to New York, Sugar Ray smiled wanly, hunched his black leather, hip-length coat about his shoulders and said that retirement was the only course open to him now.
"But we have this offer of a return bout with Archer," one of his followers protested.
This is a highlight video of Joey Archer, brilliantly put together as is always the case with every video this Maestro on YouTube makes, and it's just a thing of beauty to watch Joey Archer box, he's really one of my personal favorite fighters. Beautiful snappy jab, distance control, circling footwork, and combination punching. This is the sweet science at it's finest.
With sparklers in his oversized gloves, Earnie Shavers graphically illustrates his claim that his fists are like bombs. I actually own this type 1 original photo, epic image, Shavers was the hardest puncher in boxing history.
Former junior welterweight and welterweight world champion, Maidana was all heart, all pressure, and pure chaos in the ring. Known for his relentless aggression, crushing body work, and willingness to walk through fire, he pushed some of the very best to their limits — none more than Floyd Mayweather in their unforgettable battles.
Edwin "Chapo" Rosario in the stylish leather jacket posing with his manager Jimmy Jacobs and entourage. Rosario competed from 1979 to 1997. He won the lightweight championship of the world three times, as the WBC lightweight champion (1983-84), and the WBA champion (1986-87) and (1989-90). Rosario won a 4th world championship after moving up to the junior welterweight division by claiming the WBA title, holding that crown from 1991 to 1992. An all-time great, Rosario's murderous punching power is legendary.
This is so cool, I found the photo that was used for the 2007 Sport Kings Gum Rocky Marciano card. For some reason they turned him the opposite way on the card, that's weird. This photo was also used for his 2010 Ringside Boxing Mecca Cigarettes Turkey Red card.
John "The Beast" Mugabi holding a Rose on the cover of Boxing Illustrated in the 1980s during his meteoric rise. Mugabi was famous for his incredible knockout streak early in his career, winning his first 26 professional fights by knockout (26-0, 26 KOs). A fearsome power puncher, he had a devastating, seek-and-destroy approach, making him one of the 1980s most exciting fighters.
This is one of my favorite images of John "The Beast" Mugabi, throwing a spear on a Showtime promotional photo in 1986. Mugabi was from Kampala, Uganda, and this image was a nod to his African roots and of course his brutal punching power.
James "Hard Rock" Green after his encounter with John Mugabi in 1984, Green was one hell of a fighter, he was the first one to make it past six rounds with Mugabi but was stopped by "The Beast" in round 10, Green's face was a bloody mess. The caption on this photo reads:
"Before John Mugabi's bout Sunday with James Green, opponents of the Uganda born boxer lasted in the ring about as long as cabinet members of Idi Amin lasted on the job. No fighter in Mugabi's 20-0, 20-knockout pro career had survived past the sixth round."
One of the greatest female boxers of all-time, Laila Ali retired with an unbeaten 24-0, 21 (KO) record. The 5'10" Ali used a precise jab and powerful right hand to register an 87.5 knockout percentage, living up to her nickname "She Bee Stingin' ", a tribute to her famous father Muhammad Ali.
@semikeycollector said:
I don't know anything about boxing, but I really enjoyed this!
Sorry I missed your comment, I'm moving so fast on this thread I keep missing people's comments. Thank you for the kind words, you're always welcome back any time. 👍
Freddie Miller, all-time great undisputed featherweight world champion in the 1930s. This granite-chinned southpaw from Cincinnati, Ohio, was no joke, 248 fights in his career. Freddie Miller was truly a world champion. Ignoring the comforts of fighting at home, Miller engaged in title fights in England, Spain and South Africa and fought at venues in Cuba, Mexico, Venezuela, Ireland, Canada and Belgium. He toured America as well, fighting in 18 different states. Miller was the prototypical depression era fighter who fought 19 times a year on the average, for tiny purses against tough opposition. Still the 5"5' Miller stood out even among his peers of the time as the most active champion of his day. Boxing would take Freddie from fighting exclusively in front of his hometown fans of Cincinnati early in his career to world title bouts around the world in his heyday. His remarkable boxing abilities were made even more imposing coming from his southpaw style that only added to the frustration of his many opponents. To show how hard of a worker Miller was he took 24 fights the year after he won the title and 35 more the following year. In all Miller would fight 90 times during his 4 year reign as featherweight champion. In those 90 fights he put his title on the line 11 times including overseas trips to England, Spain, Cuba, France and Belgium. He holds wins over Panama Al Brown, Baby Arizmendi, Nel Tarleton, Petey Sarron, and Chalky Wright.
Freddie Miller - A Legend Forgotten
June 5, 2008
By: Joseph Boyle:
Long before ‘Road Warrior’ Glen Johnson entered this world, one International Boxing Hall of Famer became the yardstick by which this particular nickname should be judged. From Cuba and Venezuela to Spain and Belgium, and even South Africa, Freddie Miller really did bring the Featherweight Championship to the world in the 1930s. And long before Johnson had earned his nickname, I was mesmerised by a tale told to me by my grandfather. In the mid-thirties, he had traveled ninety miles to watch this great southpaw in action. The bout was staged where legends of Irish sport such as Noel Cantwell, Johnny Giles and Liam Brady had graced for many a year-Dalymount Park, in the North of Dublin City. We will have to go on his word alone here, but according to my grandfather ‘Dalyer’ played host to a sizable crowd and one hell of a fighter. On that particular Friday evening, he had defeated a modest opponent by the name of Stanley Jehu. Born in Cincinnati in 1911, Miller started boxing as a professional at the age of 16. Miller was what could be described as an ‘active’ fighter (understatement of the year!), as he had stepped between the ropes no fewer than 75 times before he turned 19. He had emerged victorious in all but four of these fights. In 1931 he gained his first World title shot against Battling Battalino. Miller lost on points. However, both men were fighting out of the Pete Reilly stable, and six months later it was agreed that Miller’s time had come. Battalino had decided to let his friend take the win, as he was about to move up to lightweight. Unfortunately, the punch that ‘won’ the fight was so tame that the referee declared the bout a no contest! The NY Times reported that the bout ‘was declared no contest in the third round tonight when Battalino went down under what Referee Lou Bauman declared to be a “light” blow.’ Nonetheless, Miller eventually got his hands on the title in 1933 when he defeated his rival Tommie Paul on points. It was then that Miller chose the scenic route for defending his title. In between countless non-title bouts all over the globe, he defended successfully against fellow Hall of Famers Baby Arizmendi and Jackie Sharkey, among others. He was dethroned by Petey Sarron in 1936, dropping a points decision to an opponent whom he had beaten three times before. He would go on to beat his great rival again in a non-title fight, but then lost in a title fight just five weeks later. Incidentally, this fight took place in Johannesburg and was the first time two U.S fighters had fought for a World title on foreign soil. Some other notable scalps he took in his incomparable career include Panama Al Brown and Albert ‘Chalky’ Wright. He also battled the great Sammy Angott. These are three more names which sit proudly alongside Miller’s in the International Boxing Hall of Fame. Freddie Miller was not the possessor of inhuman-like strength for which Jimmy Wilde was famous for. Knockouts credited to him were likely due to the quality or fitness of his opponent as he was a light puncher (Imagine then, what to punch that ‘KO’d’ Battalino must have been like!). This is what makes his career all the more remarkable. Instead Miller was the possessor of great reflexes and handspeed, which from his southpaw stance gave his opponents a whole host of problems. He could work out an opponent and capitalise on their weakness, and while he was not impossible to hit, hurting him or even discouraging him from coming in was altogether a different proposition. He was as tough as nails, and his will to win saw him through on many occasions. If you outpointed Freddie Miller (which proved to be the only way to beat him until his final bout) it was some achievement. He is rightly considered as one of the greatest southpaws of all time. Freddie Miller fought somewhere in the region of 250 fights in a 13-year career, and won over 200. He retired at the age of 28 after being stopped for the only time by a local fighter called Herschel Joiner. The years of bravery in the ring had taken their toll on Freddie Miller’s wellbeing and after his health had been declining for a period, he died in 1962. He was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1997. The Ring Magazine, in their list of the 80 Best Fighters of the Last 80 Years, placed Miller above men such Gene Fullmer, Carlos Zarate, Oscar De La Hoya, Thomas Hearns and fellow Featherweights Azumah Nelson and Eusebio Pedroza. This puts some perspective on how good the man from Cincinnatti was. There is no doubt that Freddie Miller is a first-rate Hall of Famer, a shoe-in as one of the greatest Featherweights of all time, and possessor of one hell of a record in the game. However, could he possibly be one of the most overlooked boxers of all time considering the adulation that lesser men have received? I thought I would take the opportunity today to issue a timely reminder to all boxing fans, myself included, to spare a thought for any all-time greats that may have been forgotten due to the passing of time.
Boxing historian and analyst Matt McGrain ranked Freddie Miller number 7 on his 50 greatest featherweights of all-time list. I hold Matt McGrain's opinions in very high standards, at the top, he has a brilliant mind for this stuff and is a treasure to this sport.
07 - Freddie Miller (184-29-5; Newspaper Decisions 25-2-2)
I always feel that a man who amasses one hundred career victories is especially to be admired as a winner. Training as near to the quill as he can before coming up to scratch and outfighting one hundred men trained to beat you is a sure testimony to an indomitable will.
Freddie Miller has two-hundred career victories, and the overwhelming majority were at featherweight.
Every time I compose one of these lists I run across at least one fighter who is, inexplicably, bereft of credit, but it is rare to see one make the top ten. Miller warrants an honorable mention for the IBRO’s top twenty at the weight, but even the great fight-man Charley Rose, not noted for his shyness in favoring the old-timers, neglects to place Miller in his ten. For me, he is a lock.
Miller assassinated the featherweight division of the 1930s. No fighter ranked at the summit for longer during that decade than Miller, not Kid Chocolate, not Battling Battalino, not Henry Armstrong. In that time, he defeated a cacophony of fighters ranked in the divisional top five, including Tommy Paul, Eddie Shea, Frankie Wallace, Baby Arizmendi, Nel Tarleton and Young Rightmire. Of those ranked from 6-10, he took Lew Feldman, Rodolfo Casanova, Petey Sarron, Vernon Cormier and Maurice Holtzer. Other significant scalps included Abie Israel, Panama Al Brown and Chalky Wright.
Some of these names will be familiar, either because they appear in discussions elsewhere for the top fifty, they rank among the top fifty, or for other fine reasons, including their pre-eminence in the division at the time.
Miller’s status as lineal champion, it is true, is subject to debate. For Ring Magazine, he was just that, for others, his claim is debatable. Wherever you stand on that issue, consider that Miller went undefeated in title fights between 1932 and 1935, a total of fourteen contests which took him to Britain, Spain and every corner of the United States.
When he was finally defeated by Petey Sarron by majority decision in 1936, his credentials as a great featherweight had surely been proven beyond doubt. Perhaps Miller’s limitations as a puncher explain the lack of respect his fantastical exploits deserve, but as a ring general he may be without parallel at the poundage; regardless, he was a fighter who excelled at the one thing all the greats specialized in: winning.
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Fritz Chervet skipping rope during training.
Fritz Chervet throwing a jab against Kid Romero and flooring him.
Fascinating article about Fritz Chervet.
The Enicar title fight from 1973
Fighting from Bern in Enicar trunks: Fritz Chervet
Jordan & Nike, Jackson & Pepsi, 007 & Omega. For many decades commercial brands have teamed up with celebrities to endorse their products to a large audience. A proven marketing strategy, although not without risks. The King of Pop became Pepsi’s posterboy in 1984, but would be surrounded by scandals the last 15 years of his life. Imagine the reputation damage for Pepsi if their partnership had continued.
Already in 1957 Enicar contracted British Formula One racing driver Stirling Moss to be the company’s ambassador. In the same period, British multiple motorcycle Grand Prix road racing world champion Geoff Duke and world top-ranking amateur and professional tennis player Ken Rosewall starred in Enicar’s advertisements. And in 1960, gentleman racing driver Jim Clark was added to the campaign. ‘Champions prefer Enicar’ was the brand’s slogan for many years and it turned out to be a successful one.
In 1973, Enicar supported Bern born professional boxer Fritz Chervet in his European flyweight title fight against Italian champ Fernando Atzori. Chervet already beat Atzori in a title fight in March 1972, but he lost his belt a year later. Chervet was eager to reclaim the crown. In a pair of black trunks with the Enicar brand name and logo sued on, Chervet knocked out Atzori in the seventh round, earning him the title for the fifth time in his career. His best fight ever, according to the sports press.
The title fight ended in round 7 when Chervet knocked out Atzori
The event took place on December 26 in the Zürcher Hallenstadion and was broadcasted on national television (a full color recap of the fight can be found here). That broad publicity could have been the reason why Enicar decided to sponsor Chervet for the occasion. Because Enicar and boxing seems to be way less plausible than supporting racing sports, where precision timing is a key factor. On the other hand, Fritz Chervet was a Swiss born athlete, a national celebrity and, apparently, a very modest and hard working man. Chervet was called a ‘good guy’ by his friends and opponents, qualities that certainly matched the Enicar philosophy. After his career ended, he worked as a doorman at the Federal Palace in Bern until 2007. He had to work for a living. To put things into perspective: over his career, Floyd ‘Money’ Mayweather jr. earned an estimated $1.1 billion dollars…
Fritz Chervet and his trainer Charly Bühler in Enicar training suit. Note the Saturn logo that is sued on Chervet’s trunks upside down
So how much money did Chervet make with this fight? Who knows. The sponsorship deal with Enicar did however earn him a watch. That’s right, a watch! According to Enicar’s corporate journal Saturn, Chervet was invited by Ariste O. Racine to the office in Lengnau and given carte blanche to choose any watch from Enicar’s line-up. Unfortunately, the report does not say which model he picked. Fritz Chervet died on August 29, 2020 at the age of 77, but the family name lives on. Fritz’ nephew Alain Chervet is a professional boxer who fights in the super lightweight division. ‘Gute Technik, eiserner Wille und Disziplin’ is what he inherited from his uncle.
Fritz Chervet working the speed bag.
This is a beast of a photo of Fritz Chervet, the contorted body, the expression on his face.
Fritz Chervet with his trainer Charly Buhler.
Fritz Chervet celebrates after his victory winning the European flyweight title from Fernando Atzori in 1972.
Fritz Chervet and Chartchai Chionoi.
Fritz Chervet vs Chartnai Chionoi in 1974, Chervet fought him twice for the world flyweight title but came up short on both occasions. A lot of people think Chervet deserved the decision and the title against Chionoi the second time around but Chervet lost via split decision, it caused riots to break out back in his home country of Switzerland. I haven't seen the full fight so I'm not in a position to comment on it. Epic image of Chervet and Chionoi shoulder-to-shoulder as they walk to their corners.
Some great shots from Chervet vs Chionoi in 1974.
Fritz Chervet throwing a left hook at Jose Cantero in 1976.
Fritz Chervet is the honorary starter of the Zurich six-day race in 1969.
Fritz Chervet successfully defends his European flyweight title against John "The Globetrotter" McCluskey in 1972, this was a great rivalry, they fought eachother three times with Chervet winning the series 2-1.
Fritz Chervet gets his hands taped by his trainer Charly Buhler.
Fritz Chervet knocks out Fernando Atzori in 1973 to recapture the European flyweight title, another great rivalry, they fought three times with Chervet winning the series 2-1.
Awesome custom trading card of Fritz Chervet, and the photo that was used for the image of Chervet on the card. I love this stuff, it's fascinating.
Here are some highlights of Fritz Chervet vs Chartchai Chionoi in 1974, Chervet really was a great little fighter, he utilized a high guard and good movement, making it very difficult to land anything effective against him, he obviously understood the art of not getting hit. He had a good jab, and sneaky power that you had to be careful about, a very fundamentally sound boxer, his trainer Charly Buhler taught him well.
Middleweight great Carlos Monzon was killed on January 8th in 1995 when the car he was driving ran off a country road and overturned. He was 52 years old. Another passenger was killed and injured a third in the crash. He was returning to Las Flores Prison where he was serving eleven years for the killing of his common-law wife, Alicia Muniz.
During a fight, she fell to her death from a second-story balcony. Monzon also fell from the balcony and suffered two broken ribs and a broken clavicle.
An autopsy showed Muniz was strangled to the point of unconsciousness before she falling from the balcony.
Monzon, on furlough for good behavior, was allowed to spend weekends in his hometown of San Javier.
As a fighter he was a graceful and cold destroyer. Boxing historian Bert Sugar wrote: "Carlos Monzon was hardly the off-the-rack pug with a nose you could hang your hat on. Instead, he had the reserved looks of a matinee idol, one with delicately marked brows, an unmarked face, and a remarkable body that could serve as a model for Hollywood beefcake pictures. And he fought the same way, with a coolness that could no more be melted than ice welded, his style a cross between aggressive caution and cautious aggression. With a long right hand thrown in for good measure.”
Music break, one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands, man I miss the early 90s, best days of my life.
Check this out, this is so cool, I was finally able to find the photo that was used for the image on the 1938 American Sweets Knockout Bubble Gum Jackie Fields card. This set is probably the rarest boxing card set on this planet. The cards were manufactured in Manila Philippines in 1938, but it is believed that the manufacturing was cut short because of Japanese bombings, nevertheless some of the cards managed to survive and make there way over seas to the United States, very mysterious set.
June 27th, 1951, Yankee Stadium.
"Irish Bob Murphy earned a shot at the light heavyweight title by battering ex-middleweight champ Jake LaMotta into such helplessness he was unable to answer the bell for the 8th round Wednesday night at Yankee Stadium. Blood-smeared LaMotta staggered to his corner at the end of the 7th and his handlers notified Dr. Vincent Nardiello that he didn't feel well enough to continue. There were no knockdowns but LaMotta was knocked back on his heels several times by the southpaw's left uppercuts and short hooks to the head. LaMotta threatened in the 3rd and 4th rounds, giving his opponent a body beating, but Murphy decided the fight in the 5th by giving Jake one of the most intense three-minute beatings of his career, using Jake's bleeding face as a punching bag for uppercuts and hooks. At the finish, LaMotta was bleeding from gashes on both brows, a cut on his chin and a badly battered nose, while Murphy bled from a cut left brow and his lower lip." - United Press
One of the most difficult bosses in the Mega Man franchise, the legendary Yellow Devil.
"El Flaco Explosivo" Alexis Argüello, Nicaraguan all-time great.
''I was only thirteen. And here's the kicker, I was five-foot one inch tall and weighed a hundred and eighty pounds. Life wasn't easy for me. The kids called me 'fatty' and there seemed little chance that I would ever be an athlete. I couIdn't take the ribbing, so I started to work out at the St. Mary's CYO Gym, where Whitey Esnault trained his fighters.
Boxing held little interest for me other than as a means of getting in shape and losing that miserable fat. I punched a bag in a side room where nobody could see the jello bounce and quiver. I only ate one meal a day - a probIem with my mother - and I never went to the beach because I always attracted a crowd like a side show.
I didn't want to be a punch-drunk fighter. I thought I'd have one or two bouts, win a trophy or so and then quit. Things rareIy turn out as you figure it.''
"Irish" Joey Archer, middleweight in the 1960s. He's honestly one of my favorite boxers to watch on film, couldn't crack an egg, but an absolute master boxer. If Archer had legitimate knockout power, he would have been truly frightening. That being said, he was such a skilled boxer that he still managed to beat Rubin "Hurricane" Carter, Holly Mims, Dick Tiger, Jose "Monon" Gonzalez, and is probably most famous for retiring the great Sugar Ray Robinson.
Hannibal Boxing
Brief Lives: Joey Archer
June 22, 2018
By: Carlos Acevedo
A comebacking Ingemar Johansson, who had just seen his reign as heavyweight champion halted by Floyd Patterson, hardly inspired his supporters when, in a huff, he ejected one of his livelier sparring partners from the ring. The “Hammer of Thor” had been cuffed around before a cluster of reporters at his West Palm Beach training camp. And who was it that had made the usually affable Johansson lose his cool? It was a cocky middleweight with shincrack footwork and a jab that flapped and fluttered as fast as the wings of a hummingbird: Joey Archer, a cocky Pelham Parkway Fancy Dan who was as quick with the Bronx cheer as he was with a right cross. “Give me a few more pounds and I could take that bum,” Archer boasted after being sacked from his twenty-five-dollar-a-day gig with Johansson.
Even with blazing Muhammad Ali setting alight headlines and newscasts from one end of the country to the other, boxing was barely simmering in the mid-1960s. The televised Kefauver hearings and the death of Benny Paret had laid bare the dark heart of boxing for Mr. and Mrs. Suburban America to see and, as a result, the straight world turned away from the graft, the grift, the grime. There was Ali, of course, and the bruising Los Angeles scene, dominated by the Chicano and Mexican afición. There were also a handful of microstars who fought in Madison Square Garden: Jose Torres, Dick Tiger, Emile Giffith, and Archer, the last of the fighting Irish. Archer was a New York favorite—like a pastrami hero or a bagel with lox—but although he was a bona fide box-office V.I.P., Archer was less popular among boxing insiders. “Archer is a stinking, rotten national disgrace as No. 1 contender!” bellowed Carmen Tedeschi, a New Jersey-based manager whose fighter, Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, had lost a hairpin decision to Archer in 1963.
For most of the 1960s, Joey Archer was a stalwart middleweight contender, but he was denied a title shot until he was twenty-eight years old and on the downside. During that era, the 160-pound scene was dominated by a handful of fighters who played salugi with the middleweight title: Gene Fullmer, Dick Tiger, Emile Griffith, and Nino Benvenuti, with cameo appearances by Paul Pender, Terry Downes, and Joey Giardello.
Archer was born on February 11, 1938, and dropped out of high school to haunt the local gyms that dotted the Bronx in those days. As an amateur, Archer reached the Golden Gloves finals as a sub-novice on the same night his brother, Jimmy, won the open division title. After turning pro in 1956, Archer, now with Jimmy acting as his manager, was a regular at the St. Nicholas Arena and on the undercards of Madison Square Garden bills. Then, suddenly, Archer disappeared from The Big Apple and spent the next eighteen months fighting in Texas, roughly 1,500 miles from Eighth Avenue. When Archer returned to New York in 1960, he was sidelined after straining ligaments in his knee. Eventually, he would remain idle for almost a year and a half. In his first fight back, Archer dropped a grueling decision to one of the most hazardous middleweights of the 1960s: Jose “Monon” Gonzalez. It was his first loss in thirty-one outings. Two months later, Archer won the rematch, and zoomed into title contention—where he remained in a frustrating holding pattern. Over the next few years, wins over Don Fullmer, Holly Mims, Rubin Carter, and Dick Tiger brought Archer no closer to his dream of being champion.
After scoring an upset over Dick Tiger in 1963 to win the middleweight title, Joey Giardello lollygagged on his return clause. Nearly two years would pass before Giardello faced Tiger again. In the meantime, Giardello, already in his mid-thirties when he won the title, was less than enthusiastic about facing Archer. When Giardello chose to make his first title defense against Hurricane Carter, even other contenders noted the absurdity of skipping over Archer. “Giardello took the easy way out,” Dick Tiger said. “He picked Carter instead of me. Why, even Archer deserved a shot before Carter, but I guess Giardello figures Archer was too much for him.”
If Archer is remembered at all, it is probably as the answer to a trivia question regarding one of the immortals: Who was the last man Sugar Ray Robinson faced in the ring? In 1965 Archer made headlines by forcing Robinson, after more than twenty-five years, to finally retire. By then, Sugar Ray was gray at the temples, frayed from the rigors of two hundred bouts, and lugging a battered suitcase around (in lieu of a rowdy entourage) from backwater to backwater during his dreary last days. Archer floored Robinson in the fourth round en route to a leisurely (and, no doubt, merciful) 10-round decision, but not even a win over faded boxing royalty could vault Archer into a championship bout.
By late 1965, Archer had amassed a record of 45-1, with eight knockouts. He specialized in pirouettes, ronds, arabesques; his deft steps in the ring, combined with his flicking jab, could frustrate some of the best middleweights in the world. But his right hand carried less pop than an old can of Dr. Pepper. That, combined with a stingy work rate and his tendency to cut, often made it hard for Archer to definitively outstrip the competition. Narrow wins over Mims, Carter, and Tiger drew as many boos as cheers from the rafters in Madison Square Garden and opponents found themselves muttering near-philosophical aphorisms to the press. “I thought I won,” Rubin Carter said after dropping a decision to Archer, “but I lost.”
Archer was inactive for most of 1965 and closed out the year with a dubious loss to Don Fullmer in Boston. Still, a longstanding kvetching campaign engineered by Jimmy Archer—one that included snarky ads placed in local newspapers—finally drove Emile Griffith, who had beaten Dick Tiger for the middleweight crown in April 1966, to offer Archer what he wanted more than anything: a shot at history.
On July 13, 1966, Griffith and Archer headlined Madison Square Garden, where more than thirteen thousand raucous spectators braved a 100-degree summer day to watch two of the most popular fighters in New York City create their own mini-inferno in the ring. After fifteen seesaw rounds, Griffith was declared the winner by majority decision. It was a close fight, with Archer opening up an early lead and Griffith bullyragging through the middle rounds, but the last third of the bout belonged to the champion. All those long years of waiting had led Archer to his bitterest defeat yet.
Seven months later, on January 23, 1967, Griffith repeated, scoring a unanimous decision over a more defensive Archer. This time a crowd of 14,838, most of them rooting for Archer, packed the Garden, and just as they had the previous summer, they left disappointed with the decision. “I thought I won both fights,” Archer told The Ring in 2001. “But he was a great fighter and he’s a nice person. Today, it doesn’t mean anything.” Back then, however, it must have meant everything. Joey Archer never fought again.
Brilliant summary of Joey Archer from member Tommy Hearns on boxing forum 24:
"Recently I’ve been studying up on 60s middleweights, and naturally Joey Archer comes into the equation. After careful deliberation and close study of the man in action on film, I’ve come up with this conclusion: damn what an underrated fighter. You don’t beat guys like Carter, Tiger, Gonzalez, and Mims (although controversial) by being an average, run of the mill contender; Joey was a boxer’s boxer with an uncanny defensive radar and a left jab as sharp and straight as an arrow (pun intended).
The big reason Archer never broke out into the big leagues like a man of his skill set should of, was mostly due to poor promotion and the reluctance of other fighters to meet him in the ring. His safety-first, peck and move style was never a big draw either; Archer’s game was textbook front to back, but he polished up his craft well. A peak Archer was a top tier ring mechanic whose skills would please the most stern faced purists and baffle most middles who put physical gifts over technical prowess. Although never a heavy hitter, his timing and punch placement were that of a seasoned veteran; Ron Lipton (who actually saw Archer fight Dick Tiger live in the front row at Madison Square Garden) described of a particular instance where Joey caught Tiger with a perfectly executed one-two that almost had the latter hitting the canvas. This was the same Dick Tiger who had warred with and conquered guys like Henry Hank, Florentino Fernandez, and Rubin Carter without a scratch to prove it.
Emile Griffith himself once called Archer the best ‘boxer’ he had ever faced; quite a complement considering Griffith fought virtually everyone under the sun during his heyday."
1963, Joey Archer vs Rubin "Hurricane" Carter. This is one of the most menacing boxing photos I've ever seen, knowing who Rubin Carter was and his background, the look on Carter's face and the sight of those fists is enough to send chills up your spine. Rubin Carter was a legitimate scary guy and those hands did a lot of damage inside and outside the ring. They didn't call him "Hurricane" for no reason, he fought like one and he lived like one. I'll say it again, if you lived in Paterson, New Jersey, in the 1960s, you knew to stay the hell away from Carter, very violent man.
Joey Archer vs Rubin Carter wasn't televised which is a shame because I would love to see this fight, a master boxer against a murderous puncher is a dream stylistic matchup. Archer had his hands full with Carter, any middleweight in history would, but he outboxed Carter and won a split decision. One thing about Archer, he had a granite chin, he took some absolutely brutal shots from Carter and during his career, but no one could ever take him out. This is a fight report from United Press in 1963.
Archer Wins Split Vote, Calls For Dick Tiger"
United Press International | October 26, 1963
Irish Joey Archer, a superb boxer, will file a middleweight title challenger and $2,500 check with the New York State Athletic Commission Monday because of his controversial upset decision Friday over slugger Rubin (Hurricane) Carter, top contender.
Dick Tiger of Nigeria is world champion.
Rangy, brown-haired Archer of New York staggered to a split decision victory over Carter of Paterson, N.J., who had 25-year-old Joey on the verge of a knockout in the final round at Madison Square Garden before 8,592 electrified spectators.
Their thrilling 10-round fight was not televised.
Archer, a 2-1 underdog, was awarded a split decision at the finish, for his seventh straight win. It was on a rounds basis as follows: Referee Arthur Mercante, 5-4-1, and Tony Castellano, 6-4. But judge Al Berl had Carter ahead, 6-4.
The United Press International also favored Carter, 5-4-1, and a poll of 16 writers at the ringside had Carter narrowly ahead, 8-7-1.
Archer weighed 161 pounds to 28-year-old Carter's 158.
Former dockworker Joey gave a magnificent display of boxing skill as he scored his 37th victory in 38 bouts. In the first two rounds and in the fifth and seventh, Joey's "repeater" left jabs and following rights had the mustachioed New Jersey slugger off-balance and sometimes missing wildly.
But it was Carter who stalked his opponent about the ring and threw harmful hooking bombs in the third, fourth, sixth, eighth and 10th.
In 1964 Joey Archer outboxed the immortal Dick Tiger and surprisingly caught the iron-chinned Tiger with a combination that buckled his knees, Archer was not known for power punching. This fight really demonstrated what a masterful, slick, tactical boxer Joey Archer was. Epic photo right here of Archer measuring Tiger.
Archer Beats Dick Tiger Here With Hit‐and‐Run Boxing Style
Credit...The New York Times Archives
October 17, 1964
Joey Archer of the Bronx contained the dynamite‐laden fists of Dick Tiger of Nigeria last night and unleashed enough firepower to score a majority decision in their 10‐round middleweight fight at Madison Square Garden.
A crowd of 9,098, paying $36,000, watched the second non-televised card of the season at the Garden.
Archer, the No. 2 ranking middleweight contender for the title held by Joey Giardello, was slammed into the lower ring rope in the fifth round by a looping right, but Referee Zack Clayton ruled it a slip instead of a knockdown and stopped the mandatory 8‐count at 2.
That was the only time either fighter was off his feet, but Archer produced the biggest thrill of the bout. In the second round, the Bronx boxer, noted for his skill rather than his power, unleashed a double right‐left combination to the chin that buckled Tiger's knees briefly.
It was Archer's surprising punching power, coupled with his fancy jabbing and footwork, that earned him the victory. Both Clayton and Judge Al Berl, a former referee, favored Archer.
Clayton gave Joey the largest margin, six rounds to three with one even. Berl had Archer by five rounds to four with one even. The other judge, Tony Castellano, favored Tiger, 5‐4‐1. The Times score card had each man winning five rounds.
Tiger, the former 160‐pound champion, was a frustrated man at the finish. The 35‐yearold Nigerian missed frequently with his powerful left hook.
Archer fought a brilliant battle, moving in with stinging jabs, then moving away from Tiger's power. Just as often, Joey would switch his tactics and choose to fight.
I It was in those exchanges that the 26‐year‐old Irishman gained the advantage, beating the floundering Tiger to the punch with snappy combinations to the head or body.
Archer's defense showed up beautifully in the ninth, Tiger chased Joey into a neutral corner and blazed away with both hands, but Archer, bobbing and weaving, caught most of the punches on his forearms and escaped damage.
A poll of writers at the ringside showed seven in favor of Archer, seven in favor of Tiger and four scoring the bout even.
The victory was the 13th in succession for Archer, and the 44th of his career against one defeat. Tiger, his title hopes ruined by the loss, suffered his 14th setback against 49 triumphs and three draws.
The Garden said before the bout that it had hoped to match the winner with the winner of the title fight in Las Vegas, Nev., next Friday between Giardello and Rubin Carter. Archer already has defeated Carter here in a nontelevised bout that drew a gate of $36,000 last year.
Archer was the 6‐5 favorite tonight.
On November 10th in 1965, the great "Sugar" Ray Robinson fought for the 201st and final time, losing a 10-round unanimous decision to Joey Archer in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Robinson hit the deck in round 4 and looked tired and flat as his record was cemented at 174-19-6 with 109 knockouts.
The Bitter End For Sugar Ray
By: Martin Kane
Sports Illustrated
November 22, 1965
The plan had been for Sugar Ray Robinson to work up through the ranks once more and thus earn his way into what would have been his 16th middleweight championship fight. Only Sugar Ray, and perhaps some of his idolatrous entourage, believed in the plan. He had won that 160-pound championship five times, more than any other man, and the welterweight title once, and he thought that at the age of 45 he could do it again. He must have believed it or else he would not have fought nine times last year and 13 this year, losing to nonentities in the Altoonas of boxing and winning against unknowns, taking his lumps on each occasion for a $1,000 purse here, $2,000 there. A great mystery was made of why he bothered with the travail of training, put up with the one-night stands in tank towns or endured those inglorious lickings he took from fighters who will never fight in Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium or Las Vegas.
He did not need the money. The Internal Revenue Service recently turned over to him $344,000 it had withheld, against taxes, since 1957. Robinson owns property in Cleveland and Chicago, having sold his Harlem holdings. He has contracts to make two movies, one a Western, the other a war picture. He is well-fixed financially. In the end, you had to believe that he was striving honestly for a title fight.
He came surprisingly close to getting it. Last week Joey Archer, a fine boxer with but a modest punch, stood between Sugar Ray and an opportunity to meet the middleweight champion, Dick Tiger. If he were to defeat Archer, the No. 1 contender in most ratings—and one good left hook would do it—Sugar Ray would all but surely have earned a sixth chance at the middleweight crown despite his 45 years. So, on a Wednesday night in Pittsburgh, he faced the blue-eyed, broken-nosed Archer before a crowd of 9,023, many of them oldtimers who fondly remembered Robinson in his glory days, and among them a sprinkling of younger men who wanted to see what the legend was about.
Robinson weighed 160 pounds, Archer a pound less. Under the lights of the television cameras at the weigh-in ceremony the tiny, well-healed scars at the outer corner of each of Sugar's eyes could be seen. But there were no other marks to show for his 25 years of prizefighting and 198 bouts. Outwardly his body was as sleek as ever and his waist as trim. What remained inside would be seen that night.
Archer is a superior boxer. He has a classic jab, some effective feints and good footwork. He has lost only once in 47 fights. He has been knocked down but once, too, in one of his early matches, and then only his knee touched the canvas.
As soon as the fight started it became clear that both men intended to follow the same plan—but for quite different reasons. Robinson came out intent on winning early, presumably because he has learned that his aging legs no longer serve him well in the late rounds. Archer's strategy was much the same, for he wanted to press Robinson at all times, and thus drain Sugar Ray of whatever stamina he had as quickly and thoroughly as possible.
With both men charging at each other, it started as an interesting fight and it remained one, even though there was little doubt about the result after the first few rounds. What had happened to Robinson's timing showed with the first hook he threw. It was a long, powerful swing, delivered from far back, precisely the hook with which he knocked out Gene Fullmer in the 1957 title fight, except that it missed Archer's chin by five inches. A minute or so later Robinson tried the hook again and missed again. Archer jabbed and faded out of range, jabbed and faded repeatedly, once scoring prettily with a combination to body and head.
The Robinson strategy still was operative in the second round, and this time it worked a bit better. He started out with a left and right to Archer's body. Joey is one who fights back, and he drove Robinson almost to the ropes with a flurry of head punches. His older brother, Jimmy, who manages and trains him, saw that Archer's temper was showing and shouted at him from the corner. "Loose, Joey," he commanded. "Stick! Stick! Loosen up, Joey!" The moment of danger passed. Joey went back to his jab, and Sugar missed with a right and left. Those misses opened the way for Archer to land eight quick punches to the head, but all were too high to be damaging.
Now it was the third round, and Robinson still was trying for the big punch. He had one hook blocked, he landed a right to the body, and then, with a single brilliant flash of his old talents, caught Archer with a very good hook, closed with him and, as they stood toe to toe, scored with a flurry.
But that was the end. Early in the fourth, after Archer had hooked him twice and landed some light jabs, Sugar missed with a big right hand. A look of concern came over his face. Archer was jabbing and moving, and Robinson was missing with rights and lefts. Then, suddenly, Archer landed a left to the head and followed it immediately with a long right. Sugar Ray went down on the seat of his white silk trunks, rolled to his side and, dazed, took a nine-count resting on one knee. Now Sugar and everyone knew that his fight plan had failed, and so had his grand plan. The last time the light-hitting Archer had knocked a man down was in 1960.
The rest of the fight was nothing but the last steps down for a gallant Robinson. He all but hit the canvas again in the sixth and once again in the seventh, looked better in the eighth and slugged it out with Archer in the ninth. In the last minute of the 10th round men at ringside were standing and pleading, "Don't hit him again, Joey! That's enough!" As the fighters awaited the decision after the final bell tears welled into Robinson's bloodshot eyes. There was a tiny cut, a mere scratch, on his right cheekbone. His nose was ruddy from all those jabs. He was breathing heavily. His legs were leaden. He knew.
It had been a long and glorious trail for Sugar Ray Robinson, who just may have been the best fighter ever. His skills were exquisite, his punch superb, his courage unsurpassed. But, as he had just learned, there always comes a day when only the courage remains.
The soft-spoken Archer held court in his dressing room.
"He's a tough guy," Archer said. "He is one of the cagiest old guys in boxing. He feints—most fighters today can't do that. He is the greatest fighter I ever saw among the middleweights."
And in a nearby room, the bleary-eyed Robinson was refusing to concede that he had fought his last.
"I want to get a night's sleep before I make up my mind," he said.
Next afternoon at the airport, waiting for a plane to take him back to New York, Sugar Ray smiled wanly, hunched his black leather, hip-length coat about his shoulders and said that retirement was the only course open to him now.
"But we have this offer of a return bout with Archer," one of his followers protested.
"Aw, what would be the point?" Robinson said. [1]
This is a highlight video of Joey Archer, brilliantly put together as is always the case with every video this Maestro on YouTube makes, and it's just a thing of beauty to watch Joey Archer box, he's really one of my personal favorite fighters. Beautiful snappy jab, distance control, circling footwork, and combination punching. This is the sweet science at it's finest.
The great "Irish" Joey Archer.
Music time.
With sparklers in his oversized gloves, Earnie Shavers graphically illustrates his claim that his fists are like bombs. I actually own this type 1 original photo, epic image, Shavers was the hardest puncher in boxing history.
“El Chino” Marcos Maidana.
A true throwback warrior of the 2010s.
Former junior welterweight and welterweight world champion, Maidana was all heart, all pressure, and pure chaos in the ring. Known for his relentless aggression, crushing body work, and willingness to walk through fire, he pushed some of the very best to their limits — none more than Floyd Mayweather in their unforgettable battles.
A fan favorite who always brought the fight.
Edwin "Chapo" Rosario in the stylish leather jacket posing with his manager Jimmy Jacobs and entourage. Rosario competed from 1979 to 1997. He won the lightweight championship of the world three times, as the WBC lightweight champion (1983-84), and the WBA champion (1986-87) and (1989-90). Rosario won a 4th world championship after moving up to the junior welterweight division by claiming the WBA title, holding that crown from 1991 to 1992. An all-time great, Rosario's murderous punching power is legendary.
This is so cool, I found the photo that was used for the 2007 Sport Kings Gum Rocky Marciano card. For some reason they turned him the opposite way on the card, that's weird. This photo was also used for his 2010 Ringside Boxing Mecca Cigarettes Turkey Red card.
I took the liberty of flipping the photo around, it's interesting, Sport Kings tilted him up a bit as well.
John "The Beast" Mugabi holding a Rose on the cover of Boxing Illustrated in the 1980s during his meteoric rise. Mugabi was famous for his incredible knockout streak early in his career, winning his first 26 professional fights by knockout (26-0, 26 KOs). A fearsome power puncher, he had a devastating, seek-and-destroy approach, making him one of the 1980s most exciting fighters.
Here's a few more magazine covers featuring John Mugabi during his streak of destruction in the 80s.
This is one of my favorite images of John "The Beast" Mugabi, throwing a spear on a Showtime promotional photo in 1986. Mugabi was from Kampala, Uganda, and this image was a nod to his African roots and of course his brutal punching power.
James "Hard Rock" Green after his encounter with John Mugabi in 1984, Green was one hell of a fighter, he was the first one to make it past six rounds with Mugabi but was stopped by "The Beast" in round 10, Green's face was a bloody mess. The caption on this photo reads:
"Before John Mugabi's bout Sunday with James Green, opponents of the Uganda born boxer lasted in the ring about as long as cabinet members of Idi Amin lasted on the job. No fighter in Mugabi's 20-0, 20-knockout pro career had survived past the sixth round."
Music break, one of the greatest songs from the 80s.
One of the greatest female boxers of all-time, Laila Ali retired with an unbeaten 24-0, 21 (KO) record. The 5'10" Ali used a precise jab and powerful right hand to register an 87.5 knockout percentage, living up to her nickname "She Bee Stingin' ", a tribute to her famous father Muhammad Ali.
Sorry I missed your comment, I'm moving so fast on this thread I keep missing people's comments. Thank you for the kind words, you're always welcome back any time. 👍
Freddie Miller, all-time great undisputed featherweight world champion in the 1930s. This granite-chinned southpaw from Cincinnati, Ohio, was no joke, 248 fights in his career. Freddie Miller was truly a world champion. Ignoring the comforts of fighting at home, Miller engaged in title fights in England, Spain and South Africa and fought at venues in Cuba, Mexico, Venezuela, Ireland, Canada and Belgium. He toured America as well, fighting in 18 different states. Miller was the prototypical depression era fighter who fought 19 times a year on the average, for tiny purses against tough opposition. Still the 5"5' Miller stood out even among his peers of the time as the most active champion of his day. Boxing would take Freddie from fighting exclusively in front of his hometown fans of Cincinnati early in his career to world title bouts around the world in his heyday. His remarkable boxing abilities were made even more imposing coming from his southpaw style that only added to the frustration of his many opponents. To show how hard of a worker Miller was he took 24 fights the year after he won the title and 35 more the following year. In all Miller would fight 90 times during his 4 year reign as featherweight champion. In those 90 fights he put his title on the line 11 times including overseas trips to England, Spain, Cuba, France and Belgium. He holds wins over Panama Al Brown, Baby Arizmendi, Nel Tarleton, Petey Sarron, and Chalky Wright.
Freddie Miller - A Legend Forgotten
June 5, 2008
By: Joseph Boyle:
Long before ‘Road Warrior’ Glen Johnson entered this world, one International Boxing Hall of Famer became the yardstick by which this particular nickname should be judged. From Cuba and Venezuela to Spain and Belgium, and even South Africa, Freddie Miller really did bring the Featherweight Championship to the world in the 1930s. And long before Johnson had earned his nickname, I was mesmerised by a tale told to me by my grandfather. In the mid-thirties, he had traveled ninety miles to watch this great southpaw in action. The bout was staged where legends of Irish sport such as Noel Cantwell, Johnny Giles and Liam Brady had graced for many a year-Dalymount Park, in the North of Dublin City. We will have to go on his word alone here, but according to my grandfather ‘Dalyer’ played host to a sizable crowd and one hell of a fighter. On that particular Friday evening, he had defeated a modest opponent by the name of Stanley Jehu. Born in Cincinnati in 1911, Miller started boxing as a professional at the age of 16. Miller was what could be described as an ‘active’ fighter (understatement of the year!), as he had stepped between the ropes no fewer than 75 times before he turned 19. He had emerged victorious in all but four of these fights. In 1931 he gained his first World title shot against Battling Battalino. Miller lost on points. However, both men were fighting out of the Pete Reilly stable, and six months later it was agreed that Miller’s time had come. Battalino had decided to let his friend take the win, as he was about to move up to lightweight. Unfortunately, the punch that ‘won’ the fight was so tame that the referee declared the bout a no contest! The NY Times reported that the bout ‘was declared no contest in the third round tonight when Battalino went down under what Referee Lou Bauman declared to be a “light” blow.’ Nonetheless, Miller eventually got his hands on the title in 1933 when he defeated his rival Tommie Paul on points. It was then that Miller chose the scenic route for defending his title. In between countless non-title bouts all over the globe, he defended successfully against fellow Hall of Famers Baby Arizmendi and Jackie Sharkey, among others. He was dethroned by Petey Sarron in 1936, dropping a points decision to an opponent whom he had beaten three times before. He would go on to beat his great rival again in a non-title fight, but then lost in a title fight just five weeks later. Incidentally, this fight took place in Johannesburg and was the first time two U.S fighters had fought for a World title on foreign soil. Some other notable scalps he took in his incomparable career include Panama Al Brown and Albert ‘Chalky’ Wright. He also battled the great Sammy Angott. These are three more names which sit proudly alongside Miller’s in the International Boxing Hall of Fame. Freddie Miller was not the possessor of inhuman-like strength for which Jimmy Wilde was famous for. Knockouts credited to him were likely due to the quality or fitness of his opponent as he was a light puncher (Imagine then, what to punch that ‘KO’d’ Battalino must have been like!). This is what makes his career all the more remarkable. Instead Miller was the possessor of great reflexes and handspeed, which from his southpaw stance gave his opponents a whole host of problems. He could work out an opponent and capitalise on their weakness, and while he was not impossible to hit, hurting him or even discouraging him from coming in was altogether a different proposition. He was as tough as nails, and his will to win saw him through on many occasions. If you outpointed Freddie Miller (which proved to be the only way to beat him until his final bout) it was some achievement. He is rightly considered as one of the greatest southpaws of all time. Freddie Miller fought somewhere in the region of 250 fights in a 13-year career, and won over 200. He retired at the age of 28 after being stopped for the only time by a local fighter called Herschel Joiner. The years of bravery in the ring had taken their toll on Freddie Miller’s wellbeing and after his health had been declining for a period, he died in 1962. He was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1997. The Ring Magazine, in their list of the 80 Best Fighters of the Last 80 Years, placed Miller above men such Gene Fullmer, Carlos Zarate, Oscar De La Hoya, Thomas Hearns and fellow Featherweights Azumah Nelson and Eusebio Pedroza. This puts some perspective on how good the man from Cincinnatti was. There is no doubt that Freddie Miller is a first-rate Hall of Famer, a shoe-in as one of the greatest Featherweights of all time, and possessor of one hell of a record in the game. However, could he possibly be one of the most overlooked boxers of all time considering the adulation that lesser men have received? I thought I would take the opportunity today to issue a timely reminder to all boxing fans, myself included, to spare a thought for any all-time greats that may have been forgotten due to the passing of time.
Boxing historian and analyst Matt McGrain ranked Freddie Miller number 7 on his 50 greatest featherweights of all-time list. I hold Matt McGrain's opinions in very high standards, at the top, he has a brilliant mind for this stuff and is a treasure to this sport.
07 - Freddie Miller (184-29-5; Newspaper Decisions 25-2-2)
I always feel that a man who amasses one hundred career victories is especially to be admired as a winner. Training as near to the quill as he can before coming up to scratch and outfighting one hundred men trained to beat you is a sure testimony to an indomitable will.
Freddie Miller has two-hundred career victories, and the overwhelming majority were at featherweight.
Every time I compose one of these lists I run across at least one fighter who is, inexplicably, bereft of credit, but it is rare to see one make the top ten. Miller warrants an honorable mention for the IBRO’s top twenty at the weight, but even the great fight-man Charley Rose, not noted for his shyness in favoring the old-timers, neglects to place Miller in his ten. For me, he is a lock.
Miller assassinated the featherweight division of the 1930s. No fighter ranked at the summit for longer during that decade than Miller, not Kid Chocolate, not Battling Battalino, not Henry Armstrong. In that time, he defeated a cacophony of fighters ranked in the divisional top five, including Tommy Paul, Eddie Shea, Frankie Wallace, Baby Arizmendi, Nel Tarleton and Young Rightmire. Of those ranked from 6-10, he took Lew Feldman, Rodolfo Casanova, Petey Sarron, Vernon Cormier and Maurice Holtzer. Other significant scalps included Abie Israel, Panama Al Brown and Chalky Wright.
Some of these names will be familiar, either because they appear in discussions elsewhere for the top fifty, they rank among the top fifty, or for other fine reasons, including their pre-eminence in the division at the time.
Miller’s status as lineal champion, it is true, is subject to debate. For Ring Magazine, he was just that, for others, his claim is debatable. Wherever you stand on that issue, consider that Miller went undefeated in title fights between 1932 and 1935, a total of fourteen contests which took him to Britain, Spain and every corner of the United States.
When he was finally defeated by Petey Sarron by majority decision in 1936, his credentials as a great featherweight had surely been proven beyond doubt. Perhaps Miller’s limitations as a puncher explain the lack of respect his fantastical exploits deserve, but as a ring general he may be without parallel at the poundage; regardless, he was a fighter who excelled at the one thing all the greats specialized in: winning.