There was supposed to be an awesome documentary about the rivalry between Battling Nelson and Ad Wolgast called "Bloodshed" by Jordan Singleton but I don't know if it was ever made or not.
Love this image of Battling Nelson on the 1910-11 Surbrug/Khedival Prize Fight Series Tobacco T225 card. He looks like he's walking out of the fires of hell.
Ok, I guess I've poured everything I can pour into Oscar Mattheus Nielsen, aka Battling Nelson, aka "The Durable Dane", aka "The Abysmal Brute." He's my favorite lightweight of all-time and one of my favorite fighters of all-time. Battling Nelson was built for war, he wasn't flashy, he was relentless. Known for his toughness and insane durability, Nelson fought at a pace most fighters couldn't survive. He took punishment, kept coming, and broke opponents down over time. That grind made him a legend.
You know what, it's time for Ad Wolgast. His full name was Adolphus "Ad" Wolgast, he was nicknamed the "The Michigan Wildcat" due to his origins in Cadillac, Michigan, and his incredibly aggressive, relentless fighting style. As a world lightweight champion (1910–1912), he was known for his "viciousness" in the ring, characterized by fighting with the ferocity of a wildcat. This is absolutely fascinating stuff, I mean, my God, I don't think people realize what it feels like to get in the ring wearing thinly padded gloves, and wage physical, brutal war with another man. How it feels to take a man's best shots to the ribs, to the face, the nose, the eyes, punch by punch, round by round, for twenty, thirty, forty rounds. These men were cut from a different cloth. Extremely aggressive, Ad Wolgast rose to the top of the lightweight ranks with little concern for defense and a great ability to take a punch. Tragically, he paid a terrible price for too many blows to the head. Wolgast first saw a pro fight in Petoskey, Michigan. When he didn't have enough money for a ticket, Wolgast told the promoter he was a promising young amateur and found himself being matched with Kid Moore. Wolgast won the fight in a six-round decision -- though Moore outweighed him by 27 pounds.
Wolgast fought his first two years as a pro primarily in Grand Rapids and Milwaukee before moving on to fight in California. There, he knocked out two opponents, but largely fought no-decision bouts. On July 13, 1909, Wolgast, now dubbed the "Michigan Wildcat," met Hall of Famer and lightweight champion Battling Nelson in Los Angeles for a no-decision, non-title fight. The newspaper decision in the bloody brawl went to Wolgast.
On February 22, 1910, Wolgast and Nelson met again in a "distance" title fight scheduled for 45 rounds. Nelson had the advantage in the early round, but by the 40th his vision was so impaired that he took his fighting stance opposite one of the ring posts, and the referee stopped the fight. Wolgast was the new world champion.
Wolgast made his fifth title defense against Mexican Joe Rivers. He managed to force Rivers into accepting as referee Jack Welch, who was known to encourage the wild brawling- style fight that favored Wolgast. Rivers began well, and a discouraged Wolgast nearly did not answer the bell for the 13th, coming out only when his cornerman threatened him with a bottle. Wolgast unleashed a hard left to River's groin, while Rivers smashed him with a right-left combination to the jaw. Both fighters fell, Wolgast on top of Rivers, and Welch started a count on Rivers while helping Wolgast back to his feet. When his count reached 10, Welch raised Wolgast's arm in victory, then hurriedly fled as a mob rushed the ring. Wolgast retained his title in this notorious "double knockout" fight.
His next title defense came against Willie Ritchie on November 28, 1912. Wolgast came out fighting, but in the 16th Ritchie landed a long wild right to the jaw, spinning Wolgast round and nearly sending him down. Braced with one fist on the canvas, Wolgast launched two low blows to Ritchie, and referee Jim Griffen stopped the fight, awarding the victory to Ritchie on a foul.
Wolgast's all-attack fighting style resulted in numerous injuries, including broken arms, hands, and ribs, cauliflowered ears and extensive brain damage. In 1917, Wolgast fought just once and was knocked out in the second round. He fought only one more bout, in 1920, Jack Doyle, a boxing promoter in Vernon, California, was appointed as Wolgast's guardian, and allowed him to "train" for nonexistent fights. By 1927, Wolgast was institutionalized and remained so for the rest of his life.
Northern Express
The Cadillac Kid
Oct. 28, 2016
Once, early in his career, an announcer assumed pugilist Ad Wolgast was from Grand Rapids, the city from which his manager hailed. It was an innocent mistake, but it wasn’t the kind of thing Wolgast would let go.
“Wolgast said, ‘I’m not from Grand Rapids. I’m from Cadillac, and I’m proud of it,’ and he punched the announcer in the face,” said Richard Kraemer, docent at the Wexford County Historical Society. “From then on, everyone in boxing knew that he punched out an announcer for saying the wrong town.”
Wolgast’s simmering anger and propensity for violence would propel him to the top of the early 20th-century boxing world and bring him fame and fortune. But after his career ended, Wolgast descended into madness, living out his last decades in California mental institutions.
FROM FAME TO FORGOTTEN
Ad Wolgast’s lack of notoriety today is in stark contrast to a century ago, when he was a household name.
Indeed, even in Cadillac, Wolgast is largely forgotten. The Wikipedia article for the city, for example, lists native musician Luke Winslow- King, According to Jim actor Larry Joe Campbell, and the late congressman U.S. Rep. Guy Vander Jagt among notable people from Cadillac, but Wogast’s name is nowhere to be found. There is, however, a small exhibit about his life in a corner in the basement of the Wexford County Historical Museum. Kraemer said some people around Cadillac remember Wolgast’s name, but the number has dwindled.
“I would say five to 10 percent of people in Cadillac, if you say ‘Ad Wolgast,’ they’ll say, ‘Oh, he’s that boxer,” Kraemer said. “He’s not that well known, but the lore is there, and kids will say, ‘Oh yeah, my dad mentioned him one time.’” There used to be a billboard outside of town that announced Cadillac was the home of the legendary boxer. That billboard was erected in 1964 — the same year Wolgast was inducted into the Michigan Sports Hall of Fame — but it, too, is long gone.
When Wolgast won the world lightweight championship in 1910, it was international news, and thousands of people packed theaters around Cadillac to listen to the fight broadcast from California. After his victory, throngs of people celebrated in the streets, despite blizzard conditions.
The Evening Record of Traverse City reported next day that the region saw the worst winter storm of the season that night, with temperatures of two below zero and enough snow to stop steam engines.
That didn’t stop the celebration. Even though most local boxing fans (at least in Traverse City) believed Wolgast would lose and bet against him, the newspaper reported that everyone was pleased “that a real championship has come to Michigan.”
A LIFE IN THE RING
Wolgast was born on Feb. 8, 1888, one of 12 children who grew up on a struggling farm south of Cadillac. He was the son of a cigar maker, according to the 1900 census.
Opportunities were few, and Wolgast was tough, so he turned to fighting. He began his professional career at age 18.
Wolgast’s first bout took place in Petoskey. He went up against someone who weighed 27 pounds more than he did — a significant disadvantage for the five-footfour-inch fighter who weighed in at 132 pounds on the day he captured the world lightweight title.
But Wolgast won handily, and he went on to fight his way through Grand Rapids to Milwaukee and then on to Los Angeles — at the time, the center of the boxing world since New York had outlawed prizefighting.
Wolgast became known as a boxer who didn’t care about putting up a defense. He could hit hard, and he could take a punch, which made him entertaining to watch.
His foray into fame started when he first fought Oscar Battling Nelson in 1909.
He won the match, which was notable, because Nelson was the reigning lightweight champion of the world. But the win didn’t bring Wolgast the championship because it was only an exhibition, and Nelson dismissed Wolgast, insisting that he only had lost because he’d underestimated the younger man and hadn’t trained.
Wolgast wanted another match — a title match — and it took him seven months to get one.
That bout would be huge. It took place before 18,000 fans in Point Richmond, Calif., on Feb. 22, 1910.
LEGENDARY BRUTALITY
The bout would become famous for its gore and brutality.
The promotors wanted to get around a California law that barred “fights to the finish,” so they limited the fight to 45 rounds, a preposterous length that ensured the fight would end on its own terms.
What ensued was a marathon that lasted two hours and ended with Nelson covered in blood, his eyes swollen shut and his arms only barely able to poke at the air. The referee finally called the fight after 40 rounds — only after Nelson no longer had the strength to protest.
A writer for the Boxing News published earlier this year described the event as “one of the most famous bloodlettings in boxing history.”
Wolgast proclaimed himself the toughest boxer in the world. A few weeks later he returned home to Cadillac a hero. Wolgast stayed on top of the world for a couple more years. He successfully defended his title five times as he continued to fight at a furious pace that left little rest between bouts.
Cadillac historian Cliff Sjogren noted that Ring Magazine ranked the Wolgast-Nelson bout the 19th greatest fight of all time.
The magazine also named another Wolgast bout, in which he took on challenger Joe Rivers on July 4, 1912, the 11th best fight in history.
THE DOUBLE KNOCKOUT
The Rivers-Wolgast fight, known as the “double knockout,” also was one of the most controversial in history.
In the 13th round, with Wolgast covered in blood and losing on points, Rivers was up against the ropes. Rivers landed an uppercut to the champion’s face just as Wolgast landed a low blow to Rivers, and both men collapsed, apparently knocked out at the same moment.
A stunned crowd watched as the referee — who had been personally selected by Wol gast— picked Wolgast off of Rivers, counted Rivers out, and declared Wolgast the victor. A firestorm ensued. The decision would be a matter of controversy for years.
Just months laster, Wolgast would lose his championship title under the same circumstance that brought him victory against Rivers; he was called on a foul for a belowthe-belt punch in a fight against Willie Ritchie, costing him the title.
Wolgast’s record was far better in the years before he got the title than it was in the years after he lost it; his final career record was 60-13-17, with most of those wins coming before he lost of the championship and most of the losses and draws coming after.
By 1916, his career had more or less ended. Soon after, he was declared insane and committed to an asylum. Although he returned to the ring several times after being committed, these fights were embarrassing spectacles. The last one, in 1920, he assured fans that he would fight like a much younger man — on an account of a recent surgery he’d claimed to have undergone: the surgical implantation of goat glands into his testicles (a fad procedure of the time carried out by charlatan doctors who promised to reinvigorate men with youth).
The San Diego Evening Tribune quipped, after he badly lost that fight: “He refused to comment at the end of the bout whether he still favours goat glands.”
INSTITUTIONALIZED LIFE
Wolgast paid the price for the punishment he put himself through in the ring.
“The reason that Ad Wolgast had to retire was not that he couldn’t fight anymore, but that he couldn’t stop fighting,” Kraemer said.
Wolgast, it seems, picked fights with everyone after his retirement from boxing. It was as if the distinction between the ring and real life had vanished altogether.
“He was picking bloody fights with patrons where he was setting up billiard games.
He would pick fights with every single woman that he took in,” Kraemer said. “And he would pick fights with the grocer, and he would pick fights with his family. He was just fighting, and he couldn’t stop fighting. So he went into a mental institution.”
After 1920, a fight promoter took pity on Wolgast and took care of him, letting him train every day for a nonexistent rematch with Nelson, his nemesis.
In 1925, a news item titled “Deposed King” shows an older Wolgast racking pool balls and explained that the former boxer now worked at a California pool hall. That was a humble place for someone who, just a decade before, had been worth $1 million (which, in 1913, was worth about $24 million in today’s dollars).
Wolgast was committed permanently to mental institutions in 1927, and he remained institutionalized until his death in 1955 at age 67.
His time in asylums didn’t offer Wolgast freedom from his fighting life. When he was 61, he suffered such a beating at the hands of two orderlies who wanted to take on the champ that he was left permanently bedridden.
The punishing length of his boxing matches, combined with the frequency with which he fought, clearly had an impact on Wolgast’s mental health. Wolgast almost certainly suffered from CTE, or Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, a progressive degenerative disease of the brain found in people with a history of repetitive brain trauma.
STALLONE COMES TO TOWN
Wolgast’s life is the stuff of a Hollywood movie, and there has been interest, but so far no film has been made.
Wolgast, in the short time between his boxing career and permanent move into mental institutions, tried to make movies himself; he acted in a couple of silent films. He played a fighter in the 1923 film Some Punches and Judy and in the 1926 film The Prince of Broadway. Sjogren said Wolgast was able to get acting work in Hollywood even as his life was coming apart because he was such a good looking man.
But handsome face notwithstanding, his film career didn’t work out.
“He got into Hollywood about six months after everyone else got into Hollywood,” Kraemer said. “There was a flood of talent going to Hollywood. He got there — he got in, made a couple movies — but he wasn’t right for excelling in the Hollywood scene.”
Frank Stallone, brother of Sylvester Stallone, visited Cadillac in 2000 to research a movie about Wolgast. The film has not been made.
Kraemer found out about Stallone’s visit through a strange coincidence. When Kraemer started working at the museum three years ago after he and his wife moved to Cadillac from Ludington, he was going through the Wolgast material and found a museum sign-in sheet that he and his wife had signed years earlier. He wondered why the sheet was saved.
“What’s this attendance sheet doing in a file about our boxer? And my name was on it, my wife’s name. What are our names doing on this attendance sheet?” Kraemer said.
“I looked at it, and Frank Stallone had signed in just before we did. He was here researching a movie on Ad Wolgast … That’s why they saved that one attendance sheet.”
KID CADILLAC
There’s no evidence that Wolgast visited Cadillac later in life. His last visit may have been in early 1916, when he had a fight in Milwaukee. He tended to visit when he was close to home. His last fights took place out west.
Sjogren said Wolgast was marked by a love of his hometown, even if he stopped visiting.
“When he was in Milwaukee, they called him The Michigan Wildcat, and he wanted to be called The Cadillac Kid,” Sjogren said. “He liked his hometown.”
Sjogren thinks it’s strange there isn’t a better commemoration of Wolgast in Cadillac. “There was an initiative some time ago to create a statue,” he said, around the time Sjogren moved back to Cadillac in 2001. “People would ask me about it, and I’d say I think we should do that. You know, it’s not every small community in the country that has a world boxing champion. And he was a special one.”
Ad Wolgast – The true story of the boxer and the goat
The incredible story of Ad Wolgast as told by Carlos Acevedo
Carlos Acevedo
8th February, 2020
Ad Wolgast – The true story of the boxer and the goat
LIKE another thunderous product from Cadillac, Michigan, the famous Shay locomotive, Ad Wolgast tore through the lightweight division for a few tumultuous years before derailing spectacularly in the kind of tragic circumstances all too common in prizefighting. If the appeal of boxing rests on its peculiar ability to dramatise – albeit on a small and unholy scale – certain bleak cultural touchstones – social Darwinism and the Nietzschean will to power, for example – then Wolgast can only be Exhibit #1. In his furious life, both in the ring and out, Wolgast resembled nothing if not a character from a Frank Norris or Stephen Crane novel, naturalism personified. Best remembered for his apocalyptic free-for-all against Battling Nelson in 1910, Wolgast also beat several world-class pros from 1908 to 1912, when prizefighting was in its brutal heyday, and before his peak was cut short by the hard logic of the ring.
At 16, Wolgast, son of a struggling farmer, left home to eke out a bootstrap subsistence throughout Michigan. He sold newspapers, shined shoes, and took on one odd job after another before finally settling on fisticuffs as a vocation. In 1907, after compiling a winning record across Grand Rapids and Petoskey, Wolgast moved to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where he built a bloody reputation as a relentless brawler with a crippling left hook and a ferocious body attack. Two years later, Wolgast settled in California, the centre of the boxing universe after professional fighting had been banned in New York City in 1901.
In Los Angeles, Wolgast raised his profile to a national level with solid showings in a pair of no-decision bouts against Abe Attell and reigning lightweight champion Battling Nelson. If not for the swaggering shadow of Jack Johnson, who dominated headlines from coast to coast, Oscar “Battling” Nelson would have been the most famous fighter of his era. Nelson, who underestimated Wolgast before their first fight in July 1909, sneered at the cocky upstart every chance he got. Finally, seven months after their first encounter, Nelson agreed to meet Wolgast again, this time with the title on the line.
To skirt laws against “fights to the finish,” promoter Sid Hester scheduled Nelson-Wolgast for a preposterous 45-round limit, knowing full well that the final bell would never ring. What Hester did not know, however, was that Nelson and Wolgast would fight so savagely and for so long. On February 22, 1910, Battling Nelson and Ad Wolgast took what Theodore Roosevelt called “the strenuous life” to grisly extremes in Port Richmond, California. When they met at ring centre for final instructions from referee Eddie Smith, Nelson more than justified the nickname – “The Abysmal Brute” – Jack London had given him. “Let everything go,” he snarled. “No fouls.” Never one to shy away from a brouhaha, Wolgast enthusiastically agreed and the stage was set for one of the most famous bloodlettings in boxing history. Both men tore at each other from the opening bell, with Wolgast, six years younger, getting the early edge. After a few rounds under the raw sun, Nelson, already bleeding from his nose and his mouth, sported purplish lunettes above each cheek. As the fight progressed, his eyes swelled shut completely, and Nelson found himself tottering on the verge of defeat. Still, Nelson would not yield. In the 22nd round, Nelson dropped Wolgast with a right cross, but Wolgast was as tough as an arrowhead, and he resumed battering the champion from one end of the ring to the other. Finally, in the 40th round, Nelson, nearly blind and splattered with his own gore, could only paw feebly at the air. Smith finally intervened, hours after the combatants had first touched gloves and long after the squeamish crowd had called for pity.
“Why say anything else?” Wolgast asked after his struggle against Nelson. “Just say I am the strongest man ever to put on gloves.” Indeed, Wolgast was strong enough to defend his title at a pace that far outstripped his predecessor. Among the notable fighters Wolgast faced during his title reign were Frankie Burns, Joe Mandot and Owen Moran. His melee against “Mexican” Joe Rivers on July 4, 1912 was such a spectacular disaster that it gave Wolgast a succès de scandale to go along with his already legendary title-winning effort against Nelson. Against Rivers, a Los Angeles native, Wolgast reveled in the ferocity of hand-to-hand combat, what reporter Lester Bromberg once called his “magnificent obsession.” Bruised and bloody, Wolgast was trailing on points when he cornered Rivers against the ropes in the 13th round. There, the two fighters unleashed simultaneous punches – Rivers a slashing right to the jaw and Wolgast an arcing left hook below the belt – that sent both men crashing for a double knockdown. With Wolgast on top of Rivers, referee Jack Welsh began tolling the count, and at some point before reaching “10”, he helped Wolgast to his feet. An outraged crowd, soon primed to rush the ring, watched as Rivers was counted out for a knockout loss.
To Wolgast, his close call against Rivers was just another example of his iron will. “Double knockout, hell,” he said after the fight. “I was just too strong for him. Put it in the paper, none of them can take a beating like Wolgast.” But less than six months later, Wolgast was an ex-champion already making his shaky way to a bleak and black future that lay ahead of him. On November 28, 1912, Wolgast took a terrible beating at the hands of Willie Mitchell in Daly City, California, before fouling out in the 16th round.
Although Wolgast was still only in his mid-20s, the ultraviolence he demanded between the ropes was beginning to affect him. In those days, boxing was far less charitable than it is now. Referees were less merciful, gloves were smaller, and rounds went far beyond reasonable limits. Little by little Wolgast was disintegrating – both personally and professionally. His brittleness, at odds with a ring style rooted in brutishness, was a dark premonition of his ultimate fate. Over the course of his unruly career, Wolgast had been stricken by appendicitis, ptomaine poisoning and pneumonia. He broke his wrist, broke his thumb, suffered fractured ribs as well. Although he was still a box-office attraction – due to his dead-game attitude – the losses began to mount. More than once he broke an arm during a fight. Between 1913 and 1916, Wolgast struggled against one opponent after another.
By 1917, Wolgast was in a Milwaukee psychiatric hospital for what was euphemistically called a ‘nervous breakdown.’ In truth, Wolgast was already suffering from dementia pugilistica. In and out of institutions for over a year, Wolgast was eventually released from a California hospital in 1918. To the dismay of the press, Wolgast resumed fighting in the Southwest and California, where he took more punishment from an assortment of second-raters. Eventually, Wolgast would need medical care, but the kind of treatment he received would wind up in a ‘stranger than fiction’ file.
After World War I, when the blood-drenched trenches of Verdun, Passchendaele and Warlencourt familiarised the globe with both shell shock and mass mechanised slaughter, America, naturally, turned to whoopee in response. Indeed, even with Prohibition looming over the country, the nascent Jazz Age introduced the foxtrot and hedonism as national pastimes. And all that adolescent vigour produced an unusual cultural byproduct: the new cottage industry of rejuvenation as peddled by numberless quacks. Old medicine show standbys such as swamp root, snake oil and sarsaparilla were joined by miracles such as Worm Candy, Pepsin and Vim-O-Gen. While the American Medical Association was still in the midst of professionalising healthcare through state licensing boards and a public crackdown on charlatans, rogue doctors, often with degrees purchased from diploma mills, continued hawking magic powders and elixirs anywhere from gleaming office suites to the backs of covered wagons.
Then, like something out of The Island of Dr. Moreau, animal transplants via tissue grafts suddenly became part of rejuvenation mania. Already something of a story in Europe, where Dr. Serge Voronoff had been experimenting with monkeys, the bizarre act of surgically inserting animal glands into scrotums promised to reverse ageing and give men new life in the bedroom.
In America, the most famous fraud of all was Dr. John Brinkley, who wisely swapped monkeys – exotic animals to most – with goats, a common presence on farms across the country. Brinkley, a dedicated con man who began his bunco career in a travelling show before becoming an ‘electric medic’, triggered an entire sub-industry of goat gland peddlers at the dawn of the Flapper era. Seemingly overnight, rejuvenation clinics opened in one city after another.
Wolgast, only 32 in 1920, was now a physical wreck and as desperate as any septuagenarian hoping to recapture his libido. So he did what so many easy marks had done since the rejuvenation fad began a few years earlier: he went to see “The Goat Man”. In June 1920, Wolgast underwent surgery in a Los Angles clinic. His ‘doctor’, P. Livingstone Barnes, pronounced the operation a success. “Wolgast has been completely restored to health,” he said. “He is normal now and his muscles are in excellent condition… His memory, once shattered so that he could not remember names, dates, places or conversations, is again normal and I see no reason why Wolgast cannot come back.”
Even for such a permissive age, the fact that Wolgast was allowed to fight again after having been institutionalised was astonishing. But Wolgast insisted his comeback would be different. After all, he had modern science in his corner. “I am no longer an old young man,” Wolgast announced, “I have the physique and qualities of one in his early twenties.”
On September 6, 1920, only a few months after his operation, Wolgast took part in his last fight, a desultory draw against Lee Morrissey in San Bernardino, California. “The crowd booed the one-time champion, and he left the ring almost in tears,” reported The San Diego Evening Tribune. “He refused to comment at the end of the bout whether he still favours goat glands.”
Wolgast, whose record stands at 60-13-17, with dozens of no-decision bouts, never fought again. Now a shambling mess, he was taken in by Jack Doyle, a friendly promoter who allowed Wolgast to live on his compound and train, in his own delusional way, in his gym. A few years later, however, Wolgast was so far gone that Doyle had him committed to Patton State Hospital in San Bernardino. From 1927 to his death nearly 30 years later, Wolgast was confined in a succession of institutions and was largely forgotten.
Almost fittingly, violence brought Wolgast back into the headlines in 1949, when two sadistic employees of Stockton State Hospital assaulted the “Michigan Wildcat”. It was like something out of a Hollywood noir – Wolgast, enfeebled, scrawny, and now in his sixties, abused by sinister orderlies. The beating Wolgast took left him hospitalised, then bedridden for the remaining years of his life. No longer would he shadowbox in the hospital corridors, where he had continued ‘training’ in a haze for a phantom bout with his greatest nemesis – Battling Nelson. When he finally died, on April 14, 1955, it must have been a mercy, one of the few a man as proud as Wolgast was likely to accept. Oh, yes, it must have been a mercy.
I'll tell you what, reading that article above, something jumped out at me and hit me hard, the part where it talks about Ad Wolgast near the end of his life, in the psychiatric hospital corridor shadow boxing, thinking he's training for Battling Nelson. Man that is heavy. It just shows you the effects those wars with Nelson and others had on him, they stuck with him until the end. The brutality of this sport is no joke.
This is my favorite photo of Ad Wolgast. Looking at this photo of him during his fight with Battling Nelson in 1910, he doesn't really come across as the beast that he was, he doesn't look like a guy that was capable of taking and handing out horrific beatings, he looks more like a guy you would see in a sweater on the campus of Princeton, his hair so nearly cut, his face so young and innocent looking, he looks like a college preppie or something. That's why I like this photo so much, it's just odd, because the man was one of the fiercest gladiators to ever live.
One more write-up on Ad Wolgast and then I'll post some photos from his legendary career.
The tragic story of Ad Wolgast — Cadillac's lightweight boxing champion of the world
By Chris Lamphere Cadillac News
Jul 13, 2022 Updated Aug 17, 2023
CADILLAC — One of the most triumphant and tragic stories to come out of Cadillac during the last 150 years is that of the “Michigan Wildcat” — Adolphus Wolgast, former lightweight boxing champion of the world.
Born on a farm near Cadillac on Feb. 8, 1888, “Ad” was one of 10 children raised by John and Amelia Wolgast.
A diminutive man, Wolgast stood about 5 feet, 4 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. A reporter described his features like this: “... with snappy brown eyes, long black lashes that softened their expression and gave a suggestion of the gentleness of a child gaze, and a good-natured smile.”
Ad received his first fighting experience as a teenager while working as a porter in Cadillac’s Saloon of William Parish. One of his early Cadillac fights was at the Elks Lodge.
According to Cadillac News reports from the time, Ad was introduced to boxing by Johnny Sheridan, a Cadillac character from the days of the first settlement renowned for the whiskey he could drink, his pugilistic skills, his willingness to break up meetings of the Salvation Army or any other “goody” assemblage, and the all-time Cadillac record for misdemeanor arrests.
Sheridan trained Wolgast and eventually took him to Grand Rapids, where he gained some early notoriety by knocking out Eddie Nelson in two rounds. Sheridan himself was in a semi-final match on that card, which drew nearly 300 Cadillac fans to Grand Rapids to see the fight.
After fighting for a time in Grand Rapids, Wolgast went to Wisconsin to continue his career. He fought regularly starting in 1906 and by 1910, had secured a lightweight title match with Oscar “Battling” Nelson.
Wolgast’s legendary fight against Nelson lasted for a grueling 40 rounds. In the 40th, Nelson was so badly battered that the referee stopped the fight. It was stated at the time that there had never been a fight in which primitive instincts were so much on the surface. This was a “battle of cavemen,” according to a newspaper man of the day.
During the fight, both combatants punished each other so brutally that after 25 rounds, “the more squeamish fans among the gathering were begging the referee to end this gory spectacle” — a statement made by Alex Laggis, a sports writer of the time. Wolgast fought when such practices as head butting and fight to the finish matches were allowed. Falls didn’t count in those days either.
Immense crowds gathered in the Cadillac Evening News office, the “Alnu” and the “Budweiser” (local establishments) to listen to the returns of the fight as they were received by telegram.
“During the time the telegrams came excitement ran high,” the newspaper reported. “’Wolgast lands on Nelson’ seemed to be the leading sentence in every one and at those times rapping for order was not heeded. The applause deafened all attempts to read the messages ... When the last message was received — the suspense from the 34th round was awful — the crowd in the Budweiser was a crazy one. Out on the street they rushed and there, under the arc light at the intersection of Mitchell and Harris streets, stood a big bass drum and a few circular saws. Hands from everyone grabbed these instruments and a procession quickly formed and followed the things as far as the Y.M.C.A. building and returned.”
A few weeks after the victorious bout, Wolgast returned to his hometown to much fanfare.
“A crowd of hundreds was at the depot long before the train pulled in, an eager expectant crowd that went wild when the train slowed down and the Wolgast party alighted ... As the train rounded the curve south of the depot, track torpedoes that had been placed on the rails exploded ... The signal at the depot was alright so the engineer slowly pulled into the station. Then he knew somebody was on his train for no sooner had the train stopped then red fuses were burning, roman candles were shooting into the night and the cheers were deafening.”
A description of the entourage that followed Wolgast around during his visit to Cadillac immediately after the championship fight offers a fascinating glimpse into his pampered lifestyle at that time.
“He came like royalty, attended by a retinue. There was his trainer, three or four gentlemen in waiting and dozens of newsboys and others who had recognized him and trailed along after. All during the little visit this “man of the hour” made, the outside door was pushed open and a gang of boys in the hall took turns ‘peeking’ at the hero. Later this crowd had grown so it reached the street and comprised at least 200 who were waiting to see him sally forth. When he was ready to go and rose, a dozen willing hands reached for his coat. The fortunate one who grabbed it held it for the small fighter to get into, with an air of offering incense to a saint.”
Keep this scene in mind, as it offers a stark contrast to the dismal conditions of Wolgast’s life later on, as the damage from battles such as the one with Nelson had already started to take its toll.
Wolgast held the crown of lightweight boxing champion for two years, defending it in the ring 22 times, finally losing it to Willie Ritchie on a foul in 16 rounds in 1912. During his reign as champion, Wolgast had endured two broken arms and appendicitis, which ultimately required surgery.
The years between 1912 and 1920 were busy for Wolgast, who continued to fight while also maintaining his farm in Cadillac and engaging in various other eccentric pursuits.
In September 1913, Wolgast lamented that he was disappointed by the year’s crop yield and blamed his hired workers for “loafing” on the job.
“My men get more work done in a week when I’m home than they do in a month when I am somewhere west of the Rockies,” Wolgast said.
In March 1915, a notice ran in the newspaper indicating that Wolgast had purchased several Siberian rabbits from a dealer in Milwaukee.
“Ad is now taming the rabbits and expects to turn ‘em out to graze as soon as he has them thoroughly trained,” the notice stated. “He hopes to have several hundred Lapland rabbits in time.”
Wolgast also trained extensively for upcoming fights, and his trainers made use of the latest technology to aid in those efforts, including a piano so he could box to music.
“The innovation was tried while Wolgast was going through his stunts,” a Cadillac News reporter wrote. “While the Dutchman was in a heated mix-up with one of his sparring partners, the pianist played ‘Die Wacht am Rhein.’ The former champion dropped his hands and turned around. He wore a look of surprise and afterward asserted it was the first time in his years of experience in the ring that he ever had boxed to music.”
In the years after losing his title, Wolgast even became involved in politics, first advocating for Wexford County to remain a “dry” county, where alcohol is not allowed, to reversing his position a couple of years later.
“Two years ago I issued a statement in favor of local option, thinking at that time local option would be best for Cadillac from a moral standpoint,” Wolgast said. “Since then I find local option does not prohibit, that beer and whiskey, are being shipped here daily in wholesale quantities, and I now think it best, from a moral and financial standpoint, to vote back the licensed, regulated saloon, as the only way to get what we thought we were getting two years ago — through temperance.”
Also during this period, Wolgast had one of his most well-known bouts with “Mexican” Joe Rivers. During this fight, the pair battled for 12 rounds and the outcome was still a tossup when both landed terrific belts at the same instant to start the 13th round. Both men were felled by the blow but Wolgast was the first to stagger to his feet even with a broken left hand and other crippling injuries and was judged the victor.
Years of this sort of punishment added up, and by 1916, it was obvious that Wolgast’s physical and mental health were rapidly deteriorating. That year, at the age of 26, he was adjudged insane by a Michigan court, and in March of the following year, Mrs. Mildred Wolgast was appointed special administrator of her husband’s estate while he was a patient in St. Mary’s Sanitarium in Milwaukee. In April, Wolgast was declared not competent to conduct business affairs, and his wife was named by Probate Judge Breen as guardian of his person and his property.
According to Ad’s brother, Louis, Wolgast was but a shadow of his former self. “Ad only weighs 86 pounds and his hair is rapidly turning gray,” stated Louis, in a letter to a friend. “The chances are he will never leave the Milwaukee sanitarium. Ad wants to become an instructor in boxing in the United States Army, but, of course, he could not do that. His physical condition would not permit it.”
This is where the story gets weird: In an effort to regain his health, Wolgast sought out an experimental form of medical treatment.
“A story of the rejuvenation of Ad Wolgast through the transplantation of goat glands was printed in the Detroit Free Press Sunday,” reads a notice in the Cadillac Evening News on Aug. 18, 1920. D. P. Livingstone Barnes performed the operation on June 22, and claimed there was no reason why the former champion lightweight boxer should not regain his standing the world of sport.
“Those who have seen the fighter working out lately say the operation has changed him from a decrepit shell with one foot in the grave and the other headed toward the insane asylum, to an athlete,” Barnes said. “His mind and body are now normal. His muscles are like steel and his hands can now withstand the hardest punch. He rises at 7 a.m. each day, does road work and skips the rope. Then he tackles the pulley and punching bag. An open-air amphitheater is to be built for his comeback. He will do three four-round boats in California and then go after his lost laurels.”
Despite assurances from Barnes, Wolgast didn’t recover and while he was allowed to fight late into 1920, for all intents and purposes, his professional boxing career was over.
He never fought professional after 1920, but in 1925, Wolgast would go four rounds against a girl boxer, Patty Royer, on the vaudeville card during the Northern District Fair in Wexford County.
He later spent some time as a trainer in a California boxing camp, which was his favorite stomping ground when he was the titleholder. Due to his damaged mental state, he still thought that he was the champ.
In 1927, Wolgast was held on an insanity warrant in Los Angeles after he had become violent. He was committed to Patton State Hospital in California and remained there until his death from a heart ailment in 1955.
In the course of his career, Wolgast fought 145 times and won 85 fights. According to one early writer, Wolgast was worth about $1 million at the peak of his career. Most of the money was earned by placing enormous bets on himself, oftentimes hocking everything that he had.
There are no monuments in Cadillac today honoring Wolgast, but in the past, efforts have been made to recognize his contributions to boxing and the city’s history.
In 1963, Cadillac Evening News sports writer Carl A. Paulsen contacted sports writers throughout the state and urged that Wolgast be in the state’s athletic Hall of Fame. Subsequently in May 1964, Wolgast was inducted into the state’s shrine for sports stars at a special luncheon at the Detroit Rooster Tail restaurant.
Also that year, a large billboard was mounted at the south entrance to Cadillac to announce the city as the birthplace of Wolgast. Chamber of Commerce manager John Toepp said he got the idea for the sign during a trip to the Upper Peninsula. He saw a sign at Laurium pointing out the fact that it was the home city of George Gipp, Notre Dame All-American football player.
I've already posted photos from the Ad Wolgast-Battling Nelson fight in 1910, so not going to rehash that, but I haven't posted this photo yet, this is a photo of Ad Wolgast (left) and his manager Tom Jones after that fight and you can see the damage it did. Wolgast certainly doesn't look like a college preppie in this photo, he looks hard as Chromium.
These photos are from July 4th, 1911 in San Francisco, when Ad Wolgast knocked out Owen Moran in the 13th round. Of course, Moran was the only man in history to knockout out Battling Nelson, and Moran was one of the hardest gunslingers of that era, he was no joke. Moran claimed the blow that knocked him out was low, there is no footage of the fight so I don't know, but images of Moran on the canvas after the being hit do show him holding his lower extremities. I also read that Owen Moran was headbutting and elbowing Wolgast and you didn't want to do that with Wolgast, he was vicious.
I mean my God, just look at these photos of Owen Moran after being knocked out by Wolgast, mouth open, he looks like he was just hit by a 12-gauge shotgun blast.
Another photo of Ad Wolgast (on the left) with James J. Jeffries (middle). The man on the right is the great featherweight Abe Attell and the man on Jeffries' back is the great featherweight Johnny Coulon.
Lightweight champion Ad Wolgast came out victorious in the famous "double knockout fight" by 13th round KO over Mexican Joe Rivers at the Arena in Vernon, California on the 4th of July in 1912.
Wolgast, aka "The Michigan Wildcat," was a fighter truly from another era and perhaps a slightly different sport altogether. He was incredibly tough and knew how to fight long distance matches: Wolgast fought 15 rounds or more about a dozen times, including several that lasted 20 and 45 rounds. He'd been operated on for appendicitis, however, and it sidelined him for months.
Rivers was tough and hard-hitting like Wolgast. According to lore, he would fight outside on the street, in front of the local Los Angeles venues that hosted smaller boxing shows in the early 1900s. A local promoter heard about Rivers and took him under his wing as Rivers, then known as José Ybarra, was a young teen. He rattled off about 15 wins, lost a few, fought to a few draws, and was lined up for Wolgast.
Rivers got off to a fast start in the fight before difficulty in the middle rounds. He'd surpassed expectations in taking the fight into the double digits in rounds, though.
In round 13, a chaotic sequence led to one of boxing history's strangest fight results: as Rivers backed to the ropes seeking shelter from the fast pace, Wolgast landed a low blow, and Rivers connected with what appeared to be a clean knockout shot upstairs. Both collapsed to the canvas, Rivers in pain and Wolgast all but unconscious. The referee lifted Wolgast off the canvas and administered a count over a a confused and apparently injured Rivers before counting him out entirely.
The response to the result in newspapers was mixed, with some writers declaring the result an injustice, and others dismissed it as simply one of those weird things that tends to happen in boxing. Either way, the controversy was immediately recognized by all. Wolgast and Rivers fought two years later, but the rematch ended in a draw and business was never truly settled between these two.
Throwback Thursday: Ad Wolgast Curiously Stops Mexican Joe Rivers
By: Patrick Connor
A constant thorn in boxing’s side since its inception has been the dissection of its health. Through centuries of prizefighting — and more than 100 years of gloved pugilism — boxing has died and has been resurrected numerous times already. But by the early 1900s, boxing had cut through the hyperbole and hammered tent stakes into the rough soil of American consciousness.
Boxing was already a very international sport, but there was something very American about a loose confederation of entities controlling most of the resources and bending whatever rules there were at the time. Also very American was boxing’s tendency to draw competitors of a wide ethnic variety.
The tradition of pitting ethnic groups against one another in the name of sport continues today across the board. In previous eras, the ethnic angle was often as much about marketing and promotion as it was about actually mobilizing demographics, but, like now, when the in-ring action was good, the skin color could be transcended. And like now, all that could crumble with the blackening of an eye.
On July 4, 1912, Ad Wolgast battled “Mexican” Joe Rivers in Los Angeles, defending his lightweight title claim in dubious fashion before a large crowd that frothed for justice before the day was through.
Born Adolphus Wolgast in Cadillac, Mich. in 1888, Ad was the oldest of seven children, including brothers Al and Johnny who would go on to become professional fighters. At 18, Wolgast began fighting regularly in Grand Rapids. The Grand Rapids Press, reporting before Wolgast’s second pro bout in June of 1906 said, “Young Wolgast, the other Cadillac product, who is to take part in the show, is said to be a crackerjack youngster, and he will meet a good man in Young [Eddie] Nelson, who has fought no less than twenty battles in the past six months without a defeat being registered against him.”
Wolgast wound up stopping Nelson in three rounds at Powers’ Opera House, but lost on points in a rematch a few weeks later. But in only a few months, Wolgast was an attraction in Michigan before venturing over to Wisconsin in 1907. Staying unbeaten through the first few months of 1908, Wolgast had no significant wins, save for a 1st round knockout of former featherweight contender Ole Olsen, which ended the latter’s career.
A newspaper loss to Owen Moran in New York did little to derail Wolgast, as Moran had just fought to a draw with featherweight champion Abe Attell at promoter James Coffroth’s Arena in Colma, Calif. a few months prior. After scoring two draws in Racine, Wis., Wolgast took his show to California with a (42-2-8, 18 KO) record.
Three wins in or near Los Angeles — where it had become illegal to schedule fights for longer than 10 rounds or render decisions — landed Wolgast a shot at Attell in a non-title bout. A 10 round draw later, and Wolgast had boosted his credentials considerably, and picked up manager Tom Jones.
In 1909, Wolgast fought his way to a fight with lightweight champion Battling Nelson in another non-title bout in L.A. After handing Nelson what the Los Angeles Herald called a “thorough beating,” the demand for Wolgast to challenge for some manner of title was sky high.
Wolgast went east, then fought his way back to California, where he was matched against Nelson in February of 1910, just outside of San Francisco. And this time Nelson’s title was on the line.
Nelson and Wolgast pushed one another to the 40th round in a hellish affair. Both men had been rocked and bloodied, and Wolgast touched the canvas in the 22nd. But referee Eddie Smith was forced to save Nelson from himself, as the comically tough character refused to submit.
The new lightweight champion traveled to San Francisco, the party center of the West Coast, and relished his new-found fame and attention. But as the champion, business called, and in June, Wolgast was back in the ring.
What should have been a routine warm up against Jack Redmond in Milwaukee actually weighed heavily on Wolgast’s career; at some point during their bout, Wolgast suffered a freak arm injury. After taking two months off, Wolgast jumped back in with a newspaper win, but a September meeting with Tommy McFarland in Fon Du Lac, Wisc. ended with Wolgast earning a difficult newspaper decision and walking away with his left arm fractured directly below the elbow.
Four months away from the ring had Wolgast, press and fans alike anxious for a title defense, and Wolgast returned in 1911, losing two newspaper decisions to Knockout Brown in two difference cities. Before March was up, Wolgast made two defenses in Califonia. April saw Wolgast taking out One Round Hogan in two, and another defense in May came over Oakland Frankie Burns.
On the Fourth of July, 1911, Wolgast defended his belt once more, but this time against an old foe: former conqueror Owen Moran. After 10 rounds of solid action, the champion took a few rounds off for no apparent reason. But at the start of round 13, Wolgast attacked Moran, landing a number of punches downstairs before the Briton began to slowly sink to the canvas. As he slid down, Wolgast landed a right hand that essentially put Moran out. In a heap, Moran attempted to plead his case that he had been hit low, but he was counted out.
Little attention was paid to Moran’s claims of foul, and again the champion reveled in his fame.
As Wolgast was in training to face future lightweight champion Freddie Welsh in Colorado, however, a bout of appendicitis struck Wolgast, who was forced to be carted to the hospital for an emergency surgery, and then ordered to stay out of action for a number of months.
In early May, after being sidelined for what seemed like a decade, an article in the Denver Post written by H.M. Walker — who would later become a prolific screenwriter — wore the title, “Joe Rivers Greatest Boxer Mexico Has Ever Produced.” Walker went on to say, “A couple of years ago Joe had to make a weekly fight to slide his fork through enough red beans to satisfy his healthy appetite. Now Joe wears diamonds as big as cranberries, owns two automobiles and has real estate holdings scattered all over Los Angeles county. Rivers pugilistic record speaks for itself. He is, by far, the best boxer California has produced since the afternoon when Jim Corbett added up his last column of figures and told the bank people to hire another mule. Joe is matched to box Ad Wolgast at Venon on next July 4 for the lightweight championship of the world. The Mexican flag will be tied around the top rope in his corner and if the little bronze boy lives up to his friends’ expectations, it is going to be an interesting day for the gringos, Wolgast and [Tom] Jones.”
Los Angeles birthed Mexican Joe Rivers in 1892, though he went by the name of Jose Ybarra then. A fourth-generation Californian, Rivers happened to be passing by Al Greenwald’s Cigar Store as great L.A. promoter Tom McCarey stressed himself up and down the street, in need of an opponent for Max “Young” Webber the following evening. As the story was told in a press release prior to Wolgast-Rivers I, Rivers either heard or saw McCarey worrying, and volunteered himself for the job at just 15-years-old. When McCarey asked a few locals about the kid, they told him they’d seen Rivers staging street fights prior to club shows outside local venues, and that the kid was tough and could punch.
McCarey took Rivers under his wing and gave him an accessible name, waiting for Rivers to turn 18 to press forward with his professional career. In 1910, Rivers rattled off five wins, and the following year his opposition rose sharply when he picked up manager Joe Levy, and Rivers went 1-1 against Johnny Kilbane, who was months away from becoming featherweight champion. The loss, however, was a knockout that seemed to stay with Rivers in the press until his next defeat, when coupled with a few other flash knockdowns suffered.
Rivers had a good thing going in Vernon, Calif., though, and fought to a draw in 20 rounds with former bantamweight champion Frankie Conley to close out 1911. Then on the first day of 1912, Rivers got revenge over Conley and stopped him in 11 rounds. The Boston Herald said of the fight, “Conley constantly carried the fight to his opponent, only to receive the worst beating of his ring career.”
In March, Rivers easily vanquished fringe contender Jack White, bringing his record to (15-1-2, 10 KO), and putting himself in line to challenge Wolgast for his title claim.
Wolgast, it seemed, was getting big for his britches despite his appendicitis operation. A news wire from Los Angeles reported that during a meeting with promoter Tom McCarey, Wolgast had pinned a huge diamond on the front of his coat and walked with an expensive cane. His promoter Tom Jones cracked, “We will make any weight for this bird Rivers from 122 up and let him name the weight. We are going to work on the Fourth of July and we would rather work here than any other place. We would like to get Rivers, as it would be a great contest, but Rivers is only one of a half dozen challenges.”
Not to be outdone, during pre-fight promotion, Levy introduced his charge to everyone as “the next lightweight champion of the world.”
Moving past the outward confidence, Wolgast still fully intended to take a few shorter fights to ready himself for serious milling once more. In early May, he tangled with Willie Ritchie at Coffroth’s Arena, knocking his future nemesis down twice before being rocked multiple times and out-boxed for the rest of the four rounds. Immediately afterward, he told reporters, “What I need is five or six of these short-route fights before I take on Joe Rivers on the Fourth of July. I have not noticed any ill effects from the operation I underwent in Los Angeles. The test with Ritchie shows I am in good shape in the mid-section.”
Refusing to stay idle, Rivers performed in paid sparring exhibitions against Babe Davis, one of his chief training partners, and Willie Canole. Rivers said he had been offered a lot of money to tour the vaudeville circuit, but the exhibitions paid similarly and kept him in better shape. The shows weren’t particularly well-received, however, as the San Francisco crowd on hand for his May 3 exhibition against Davis grew bored, and some asked for their money back.
On the last day of May, Wolgast won a newspaper decision from Young Jack O’Brien amid fears he would be pulling out of the match up due to a back injury. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the U.S., multiple newspapers noted the disinterest in Jack Johnson’s upcoming defense of the heavyweight title against “Fireman” Jim Flynn in favor of Wolgast-Rivers.
Rivers set up training camp at Shaw’s Gymnasium in Venice, while Wolgast went to Wheeler Springs for a week or two in order to be outdoors, per his team. It may have just been propaganda, but reports out of Wolgast’s camp stated that he had worn out one of his Stag Hounds, who was so tired from Wolgast’s training, he refused to do road work with the champion anymore.
Wolgast sparred regularly with Pete McVeigh and Kid Dalton upon returning to the city and setting up camp in Vernon, where the fight was schedule to take place. In mid-June, odds were reported as 10-to-9 in favor of Wolgast, and a few days later, the odds had slid toward Wolgast even more at 10-to-6.
H.M. Walker, who was on hand in Wolgast’s training camp for the Denver Post, noted the week of the fight that Wolgast had been going full speed in the gym, demanding that his training partners and sparring partners not take it easy on him. Walker said, “Ad’s recent mountaineering, to all appearances, has improved his physical condition in more ways than one. His mind, judging my yesterday’s workout–his first real entrance upon his training for his Fourth of July go with Mexican Joe Rivers–is improved. His stamina, which it was feared had received a severe setback through the operation for appendicitis last winter, has undoubtedly improved, and the trip added five pounds to his weight.”
But a few days later, Wolgast worked out before a crowd of approximately 3,000 people at promoter Doyle’s training facility, looking none too impressive, per the Riverside Independent Enterprise. Wolgast then retired to vaudeville actor Nat Goodwin’s ranch to finish much of his training. In the days before the bout, in fact, media focused on the fact that Wolgast was actually underweight for the bout by almost 10 pounds.
Attention shifted away from Wolgast’s weight when both fighters’ training camps cooled down, and at least one media member was quick to point out that Rivers wasn’t exactly a veteran in the lightweight division, himself. Also aiding in distracting press from asking Wolgast fitness questions was the battle over who would be the third man in the ring. Wolgast and Jones suggested San Francisco referee Jack Welsh, who had refereed four of Wolgast’s previous bouts, while a more neutral arbiter in James Jeffries was sought by Rivers’ camp. When Jeffries declared he couldn’t participate as he knew both fighters too well, Rivers settled on Welsh, which would prove to be a serious error.
Hobo Dougherty, a featherweight out of Wisconsin, was befriended by Wolgast early in the latter’s career. As Dougherty told it, Wolgast was kind enough to donate a quarter to the Hobo’s next meal or two, as the nickname was literal at the time. Dougherty was asked whether or not Wolgast was healthy the day before the bout, and he replied, “Ad is faster and stronger than he was before the operation. I don’t know who could know better than me.”
Wolgast said going into the fight, “I will down Rivers–then let the rest of the bunch look out.”
Rivers remarked, “Wolgast might run into a surprise party that will make him heart sore.”
The toll of a bell set Wolgast and Rivers upon one another, and the two men “fought like catamounts,” as one news wire wrote, matching the later Fourth of July festivities. But the same news wire said of round 1, “Rivers was much faster and his blocking was better than that of the champion.” Rivers was pushing the fight early, and Wolgast was keeping up, but not getting the better.
A one-round lead bled into carnage in round 2, as Rivers was seemingly unable to miss, and a cut strangely opened up near Wolgast’s neck that was spurting blood. Before the round was over, Wolgast’s nose had also sprung a serious leak. But Wolgast came roaring back in the 3rd, exchanging with Rivers and covering the challenger with crimson in the clinch, though Rivers’ opened up the wound on Wolgast’s neck further when the two tussled on the inside.
The Grand Rapids Press, reporting from about 100 miles outside of Wolgast’s hometown, said, “During the early rounds Rivers led by a wide margin, Wolgast seeming to have planned to let his opponent tire himself out, not really beginning to fight like he has in the past until after the sixth round.”
Wolgast’s timing was off when Rivers fought from the outside, and the challenger was tagging Wolgast before falling in and mugging. Through round 6, Wolgast was stunned a few times and had a shade in perhaps one round, and it was debatable. And in round 6, a right hand inside floored Wolgast, who bounced up immediately, but was trailing badly.
Round 7 saw Wolgast pushing the envelope with body shots — some legal, some not — and finally getting to Rivers, who slowed and looked to clinch after rocking Wolgast again. In the 8th, Rivers’ defense turned to flight, and Wolgast attempted wild rushed to punish Rivers about the body and slow him down, which worked.
Slower action marked the 9th, though Rivers a few times targeted the area where Wolgast’s appendectomy scar lived, which summoned forth more body work from the latter that likely stole the round. And the 10th continued with Rivers trying to keep away and win from the outside, but Wolgast was rushing in to interrupt any possibly rhythm to be had. To make matters worse for Rivers, his defense had largely become simply covering up, as Wolgast was gaining steam in the clinch, and the Californian’s legs were weakening.
There were still some surprises from Rivers, though, and a round-by-round recap via news wire said of round 11, “Rivers seemed to force the fighting. Wolgast could not hit him hard and clinched. Rivers then stood still and took four or five hard lefts and rights to the jaw but never winced. He then sent in a hard left staggering the champion. Wolgast’s smile had disappeared, and he seemed very tired.”
Aggression from Wolgast had become highly flawed, and Rivers’ simple covering up was proving sufficient to avoid most punishment. Wolgast couldn’t break through.
The men began mixing up again in round 13, though Rivers had retreated to the ropes during the round a few times. In the final sequence, Wolgast backed Rivers to the ropes, and per most reports, caught Rivers with a left hook to the cup. Nearly simultaneously, Wolgast took a right hand that leveled the champion. As both men fell at the same time, referee Welsh appeared confused and briefly looked to ringside officials for guidance, ignoring River’s plea that he had been hit low, and very hard. Welsh walked over to Wolgast, who was all but dead weight, and helped dragged him to his corner, declaring Wolgast the winner.
Owen R. Bird of the Los Angeles Times wrote of the fascinating result, “The pace had been ferocious from the opening bell and toward the end of the 13th the fury was redoubled. Then this thing happened. Both fighters suddenly lay writhing on the floor together, almost in a heap. The referee seemed to be trying to count out Rivers, and help Ad Wolgast to his feet in a confused sort of way. Rivers had apparently been fouled, but after a moment’s hesitation, the referee began to count over him. It took Jack Welch eight seconds to count out Rivers, after he had been fouled, and render a decision, besides helping the fallen champion to his feet. The gong rang as he finished the downward stroke of the five count. As for the fight–there never was a better one in the Vernon area.”
Trainer at the Los Angeles Athletic Club, De Witt Van Court, said, also via the Los Angeles Times, “I saw Wolgast hit Rivers a hard left-hand in the groin as plain as I ever saw anything… I believe Rivers had hit him square in the stomach and knocked his wind out. I also believe Rivers was entitled to the decision on a foul.”
An uproar from ringside spilled into the ring, with River’s corner and supporters threatening to set chaos loose. Welsh wisely fled. Both fighters claimed to have been fouled: Rivers with the low blow, and Wolgast said he had taken a knee to the head when Rivers went down and pulled Wolgast down with him. Rivers and his team infamously produced a badly dented metal foul protector as evidence, which caught on as a news item.
Editor of the San Francisco Chronicle, Harry B. Smith, wrote from ringside, “Wolgast’s victory was a hollow one save for that he retained the all-precious title. His reputation is torn to tatters and it is safe to say the next time he steps into a ring with a foe worthy of him there will be no two to one offered by his backers.”
The Denver Post said, “The public, the one means of support of the fight game, received another wallop at Los Angeles yesterday afternoon when referee Welch (sic) gave Ad Wolgast the decision over Joe Rivers. In giving Wolgast the verdict Welch plainly showed that he is either incompetent or that Rivers was jobbed.”
Countering much of the negative press and cries of a fix or botched verdict, however, was none other than H.M. Walker. He said, “Up to the sensational finale the battle had been one of the most ferocious ever staged in southern California. Wolgast had proved to be the Wolgast of old. No longer the specter of the appendicitis operation hung over him. Trained to physical perfection, he was fighting like a wounded tiger, had punched and hooked Rivers’ nose and eyes until his features were unlovely to look upon and had beaten Joe about the body until he was weak. Rivers could scarcely have lasted the limit of twenty rounds. … Many take issue with me, but I sincerely believe that Wolgast has established his supremacy over the Mexican. The thirteenth round confusion was caused by Referee Welch completely losing his bearings.”
Former fighter Harry Gilmore said via news wire from Chicago, “It was anything but robbery, Welch is a courageous referee and while the mixup was a confusing one he did not hesitate in counting the Mexican boy out the second he dropped from the blow. While openly admitting that the blow landing right on the belt line, with a fraction of the glove showing low, it was not sufficient to be characterized a foul and the real force of the punch was felt above. Up to the thirteenth and final round Wolgast was a decided winner and had his plucky opponent badly banged up, with the betting questionable whether or not Rivers would last the fifteen rounds. It was undoubtedly one of the best and most terrific lightweight battles that the coast has seen while it lasted and though Rivers failed in his aspirations to becomed the champion he will be great in his defeat, for he fought desperately and as savagely as a wildcat until the champion had calmed him down after the seventh round.”
It was reported that Wolgast took home about $40,000, and had a deal for 50 percent of the film rights and the same percentage of the gate.
Two days after the fight, photos sent to various newspapers seemed to only deepen the mystery, as they showed Wolgast landing two left hands to the belt line, and both fighters collapsing near the ropes, then sprawled out and groggy as Welsh mostly looked on, squinting into the sun. And in hindsight, Welsh’s involvement with both the Moran bout and the Rivers debacle, and the fact that both were on the Fourth of July, was strange, to put it kindly.
According to an 80th anniversary article in the Los Angeles Times by Earl Gustkey, film of the bout showed that the left hand from Wolgast was clearly low, but how and why Wolgast went down the way he did wasn’t clear.
Wolgast would lose four more times by disqualification, and in at least two other bouts, an opponent of his claimed to have been hit low at a crucial point in the fight. The November following the first Rivers encounter had Wolgast losing the lightweight title by DQ to previous foe Ritchie, who again defeated the former champion in 1914. A draw with Rivers in 1914 followed by a stoppage of Rudy Unholz were Wolgast’s final flurries as a serious fighter. He couldn’t manage to defeat an upper level fighter ever again, and retired after his only fight in 1920.
Boxing had already sunk its teeth in and was tearing off chunks, as Wolgast suffered a “nervous breakdown” in 1917 and was declared mentally incompetent by a Milwaukee court. Wolgast went through the Wisconsin system, and was then transferred to the Stockton State Prison’s psychiatric ward, where he was reportedly beaten mercilessly on more than one occasion by guards who wanted to test their mettle against a former champion.
Years of health problems and mental decline plagued Wolgast, who was in hospitals or institutions more than he wasn’t. In 1955, the former lightweight champion of the world succumbed to pneumonia and lingering heart issues and passed away at 67-years-old in a state hospital.
On the Fourth of July in 1913, Rivers was again stopped for the lightweight title, but this time by Ritchie, and legitimately. Rivers faced Freddie Welsh, Johnny Dundee, Frankie Callahan, Johnny Griffiths and Willie Hoppe, unable to defeat any of them. As 1917 came to a close, Rivers’ loss column became overpopulated, and his opposition became much weaker. From 1920 to 1924, Rivers fought up and down the West Coast, unable to revive his career, and he retired at 32. However, his first bout against Dundee is said to have been the last 20 round bout in California before fights could legally be just four rounds, for a decade.
As years went by, Rivers largely stayed out of the spotlight, though the famous “double knockout fight” between he and Wolgast lived on, occasionally cited by sports writers in need of odd facts to add to their columns. There were various false reports of Rivers passing away, oddly, but in 1957, Rivers found himself in the Los Angeles County General Hospital with an unknown ailment, before he was transferred to the Inglewood Sanitarium, where he died of a cerebral hemmhorage at 65.
The supreme irony is that the sport that made both Ad Wolgast and Joe Rivers was constantly pointing to both of them as reasons why the sport should no longer be. Wolgast’s physical deterioration was very public, while Rivers’ health issues were only widely known at the end. Nonetheless, aside from being the subjects of sporting factoids, they were both also used as cautionary tales.
California succeeded in stamping out lengthy bouts in professional boxing, but only temporarily. History remembers Wolgast-Rivers I in a skewed manner, but that it’s remembered at all is about as important.
World heavyweight champion Jess Willard poses for the camera with Ad Wolgast (left) and Willie Hoppe, circa 1916. For generations, Willard's was the first name that came to the minds of fight fans when the question arose of who was the biggest heavyweight king of all-time. Standing just under 6'7" and weighing around 240 pounds, for decades "The Pottawatomie Giant's" only championship rival in terms of sheer size was Primo Carnera (6'6"). But that changed starting in the 1990's with the arrival of Vitali Klitschko (6'7"), followed by Deontay Wilder (6'7") and Tyson Fury (6'9"). The biggest of them all is of course Nikolai Valuev who was seven feet tall and weighed over 300lbs.
My goodness, it's a shame there's not many Ad Wolgast fight photos available, I'll post whatever I can find. On November 29, 1909 at Dreamland Rink in San Francisco, California lightweights Ad Wolgast and Lew Powell battled in the main event. Wolgast won a 20 round decision. This is a photo of Wolgast (left) and Powell facing off before their bout.
Epic shots of Ad Wolgast after his bout with Frankie Burns on February 7 ,1916. The bout was declared a news decision draw after 10 rounds. It's amazing looking at these photos of Wolgast, he looks so normal, you would never know he was one of the most savage fighters in boxing history, a lightweight terror, capable of going 40-rounds in apocalyptic hand-to-hand combat.
I'm not sure who Ad Wolgast (left) is shaking hands with in this photo, but it's a really great image. The clothes from the time period, the hats, the walking stick are cool.
The toll this sport takes. The top photo is Ad Wolgast's face at the beginning of his career, and the bottom photo is his face after 133 fights. The second photo, he was declared insane by that point. He died at Camarillo State mental hospital in California where he had been confined for many years, brain dead and a broken man.
Now you know what, this is so cool, I found the photo of Ad Wolgast that was used for the images on his American Caramel, Pet Cigarettes and Kopec Cigarettes cards.
On February 22, 1913, at Coffroth’s Arena in Daly City, California lightweights Harlem Tommy Murphy and Ad Wolgast squaring off in the featured match. Murphy was awarded the win in the 16th round when Wolgast was disqualified. The top photo depicts the two squaring off as their handlers look on including left to right, is short, stocky Jim Buckley who acted as Murphy’s manager when Murphy was in California. The other photos show Wolgast pinning Murphy against the ropes during the fight. Harlem Tommy Murphy is criminally underrated, he's got one hell of a resume. Murphy was involved in one of the most brutal and bloodiest fights in boxing history with Abe Attell in 1912, damn bloodbath. Ad Wolgast, the reigning lightweight champion of the world, was ringside at that fight between Attell and Murphy and told a reporter, “It was the hardest fight I ever saw, and I didn’t think Abe could stand the punching."
I don't mean to get off track here, but this is a photo of Harlem Tommy Murphy (left) and Abe Attell after their fight in 1912 and you can see they're both just absolutely covered in blood.
This is a photo of Ad Wolgast visiting the grave of the legendary middleweight "Nonpareil" Jack Dempsey. Wolgast is the one with his foot resting on the edge of the grave, looking down in the bottom photo.
Another cool trading card I forgot to mention, the 1923 Burstein Isaacs Famous Prize fighters Ad Wolgast. This card was issued in two different variations, with the letters of his name in all capital letters and with a mix of large and small letters, or mix type.
One thing I want to mention, Ad Wolgast has a 1936 La Salle Hats card but I can't find a decent scan of it. He also is supposed to have a 1938 American Sweets Knockout Bubble Gum card, the rarest boxing card set on this planet, but I've never actually seen the card despite searching for a photo of it.
Edited to add: I just found a good scan of the 1936 La Salle Hats Ad Wolgast card.
This photo was taken during the filming of Hogan's Alley (1925), left to right: James J. Jeffries, Ad Wolgast, Ted (Kid) Lewis, Spike Robinson, Monte Blue, Tommy Ryan, Bob Perry, Mexican Joe Rivers & Dan Tobey.
A 1921 photo of a boxing gathering at Vernon, California, at the PCL stadium there. Boxers pictured are Jack Jeffries, Willie Ritchie, Kid McCoy, Jim Jeffries, Tom Sharkey, Jack Root, Billy Papke, Al Kaufman, Tommy Ryan, Charlie Eyton (referee), Ad Wolgast, and Joe Rivers.
These photos are from the fight when Ad Wolgast lost the world lightweight title to Willie Ritchie on November 28th, 1912, at Coffroth's Arena in Daly City, California. Ritchie is an all-time great and Hall of Famer, I've seen brief film of him, phenomenal fighter. Ritchie was awarded the victory in the 16th round by disqualification. Wolgast came out fighting, but in the 16th Ritchie landed a long wild right to the jaw, spinning Wolgast round and nearly sending him down. Braced with one fist on the canvas, Wolgast launched two low blows to Ritchie, and referee Jim Griffen stopped the fight, awarding the victory and the title to Ritchie on a foul.
Comments
A cartoon depicting the famous fight between Battling Nelson and Ad Wolgast in 1910, one of the most hellacious fights in boxing history.
There was supposed to be an awesome documentary about the rivalry between Battling Nelson and Ad Wolgast called "Bloodshed" by Jordan Singleton but I don't know if it was ever made or not.
Love this image of Battling Nelson on the 1910-11 Surbrug/Khedival Prize Fight Series Tobacco T225 card. He looks like he's walking out of the fires of hell.
Good image of Battling Nelson staring into the camera.
Ok, I guess I've poured everything I can pour into Oscar Mattheus Nielsen, aka Battling Nelson, aka "The Durable Dane", aka "The Abysmal Brute." He's my favorite lightweight of all-time and one of my favorite fighters of all-time. Battling Nelson was built for war, he wasn't flashy, he was relentless. Known for his toughness and insane durability, Nelson fought at a pace most fighters couldn't survive. He took punishment, kept coming, and broke opponents down over time. That grind made him a legend.
Out of all the photos I've seen of Battling Nelson, This is my favorite image of him.
You know what, it's time for Ad Wolgast. His full name was Adolphus "Ad" Wolgast, he was nicknamed the "The Michigan Wildcat" due to his origins in Cadillac, Michigan, and his incredibly aggressive, relentless fighting style. As a world lightweight champion (1910–1912), he was known for his "viciousness" in the ring, characterized by fighting with the ferocity of a wildcat. This is absolutely fascinating stuff, I mean, my God, I don't think people realize what it feels like to get in the ring wearing thinly padded gloves, and wage physical, brutal war with another man. How it feels to take a man's best shots to the ribs, to the face, the nose, the eyes, punch by punch, round by round, for twenty, thirty, forty rounds. These men were cut from a different cloth. Extremely aggressive, Ad Wolgast rose to the top of the lightweight ranks with little concern for defense and a great ability to take a punch. Tragically, he paid a terrible price for too many blows to the head. Wolgast first saw a pro fight in Petoskey, Michigan. When he didn't have enough money for a ticket, Wolgast told the promoter he was a promising young amateur and found himself being matched with Kid Moore. Wolgast won the fight in a six-round decision -- though Moore outweighed him by 27 pounds.
Wolgast fought his first two years as a pro primarily in Grand Rapids and Milwaukee before moving on to fight in California. There, he knocked out two opponents, but largely fought no-decision bouts. On July 13, 1909, Wolgast, now dubbed the "Michigan Wildcat," met Hall of Famer and lightweight champion Battling Nelson in Los Angeles for a no-decision, non-title fight. The newspaper decision in the bloody brawl went to Wolgast.
On February 22, 1910, Wolgast and Nelson met again in a "distance" title fight scheduled for 45 rounds. Nelson had the advantage in the early round, but by the 40th his vision was so impaired that he took his fighting stance opposite one of the ring posts, and the referee stopped the fight. Wolgast was the new world champion.
Wolgast made his fifth title defense against Mexican Joe Rivers. He managed to force Rivers into accepting as referee Jack Welch, who was known to encourage the wild brawling- style fight that favored Wolgast. Rivers began well, and a discouraged Wolgast nearly did not answer the bell for the 13th, coming out only when his cornerman threatened him with a bottle. Wolgast unleashed a hard left to River's groin, while Rivers smashed him with a right-left combination to the jaw. Both fighters fell, Wolgast on top of Rivers, and Welch started a count on Rivers while helping Wolgast back to his feet. When his count reached 10, Welch raised Wolgast's arm in victory, then hurriedly fled as a mob rushed the ring. Wolgast retained his title in this notorious "double knockout" fight.
His next title defense came against Willie Ritchie on November 28, 1912. Wolgast came out fighting, but in the 16th Ritchie landed a long wild right to the jaw, spinning Wolgast round and nearly sending him down. Braced with one fist on the canvas, Wolgast launched two low blows to Ritchie, and referee Jim Griffen stopped the fight, awarding the victory to Ritchie on a foul.
Wolgast's all-attack fighting style resulted in numerous injuries, including broken arms, hands, and ribs, cauliflowered ears and extensive brain damage. In 1917, Wolgast fought just once and was knocked out in the second round. He fought only one more bout, in 1920, Jack Doyle, a boxing promoter in Vernon, California, was appointed as Wolgast's guardian, and allowed him to "train" for nonexistent fights. By 1927, Wolgast was institutionalized and remained so for the rest of his life.
Northern Express
The Cadillac Kid
Oct. 28, 2016
Once, early in his career, an announcer assumed pugilist Ad Wolgast was from Grand Rapids, the city from which his manager hailed. It was an innocent mistake, but it wasn’t the kind of thing Wolgast would let go.
“Wolgast said, ‘I’m not from Grand Rapids. I’m from Cadillac, and I’m proud of it,’ and he punched the announcer in the face,” said Richard Kraemer, docent at the Wexford County Historical Society. “From then on, everyone in boxing knew that he punched out an announcer for saying the wrong town.”
Wolgast’s simmering anger and propensity for violence would propel him to the top of the early 20th-century boxing world and bring him fame and fortune. But after his career ended, Wolgast descended into madness, living out his last decades in California mental institutions.
FROM FAME TO FORGOTTEN
Ad Wolgast’s lack of notoriety today is in stark contrast to a century ago, when he was a household name.
Indeed, even in Cadillac, Wolgast is largely forgotten. The Wikipedia article for the city, for example, lists native musician Luke Winslow- King, According to Jim actor Larry Joe Campbell, and the late congressman U.S. Rep. Guy Vander Jagt among notable people from Cadillac, but Wogast’s name is nowhere to be found. There is, however, a small exhibit about his life in a corner in the basement of the Wexford County Historical Museum. Kraemer said some people around Cadillac remember Wolgast’s name, but the number has dwindled.
“I would say five to 10 percent of people in Cadillac, if you say ‘Ad Wolgast,’ they’ll say, ‘Oh, he’s that boxer,” Kraemer said. “He’s not that well known, but the lore is there, and kids will say, ‘Oh yeah, my dad mentioned him one time.’” There used to be a billboard outside of town that announced Cadillac was the home of the legendary boxer. That billboard was erected in 1964 — the same year Wolgast was inducted into the Michigan Sports Hall of Fame — but it, too, is long gone.
When Wolgast won the world lightweight championship in 1910, it was international news, and thousands of people packed theaters around Cadillac to listen to the fight broadcast from California. After his victory, throngs of people celebrated in the streets, despite blizzard conditions.
The Evening Record of Traverse City reported next day that the region saw the worst winter storm of the season that night, with temperatures of two below zero and enough snow to stop steam engines.
That didn’t stop the celebration. Even though most local boxing fans (at least in Traverse City) believed Wolgast would lose and bet against him, the newspaper reported that everyone was pleased “that a real championship has come to Michigan.”
A LIFE IN THE RING
Wolgast was born on Feb. 8, 1888, one of 12 children who grew up on a struggling farm south of Cadillac. He was the son of a cigar maker, according to the 1900 census.
Opportunities were few, and Wolgast was tough, so he turned to fighting. He began his professional career at age 18.
Wolgast’s first bout took place in Petoskey. He went up against someone who weighed 27 pounds more than he did — a significant disadvantage for the five-footfour-inch fighter who weighed in at 132 pounds on the day he captured the world lightweight title.
But Wolgast won handily, and he went on to fight his way through Grand Rapids to Milwaukee and then on to Los Angeles — at the time, the center of the boxing world since New York had outlawed prizefighting.
Wolgast became known as a boxer who didn’t care about putting up a defense. He could hit hard, and he could take a punch, which made him entertaining to watch.
His foray into fame started when he first fought Oscar Battling Nelson in 1909.
He won the match, which was notable, because Nelson was the reigning lightweight champion of the world. But the win didn’t bring Wolgast the championship because it was only an exhibition, and Nelson dismissed Wolgast, insisting that he only had lost because he’d underestimated the younger man and hadn’t trained.
Wolgast wanted another match — a title match — and it took him seven months to get one.
That bout would be huge. It took place before 18,000 fans in Point Richmond, Calif., on Feb. 22, 1910.
LEGENDARY BRUTALITY
The bout would become famous for its gore and brutality.
The promotors wanted to get around a California law that barred “fights to the finish,” so they limited the fight to 45 rounds, a preposterous length that ensured the fight would end on its own terms.
What ensued was a marathon that lasted two hours and ended with Nelson covered in blood, his eyes swollen shut and his arms only barely able to poke at the air. The referee finally called the fight after 40 rounds — only after Nelson no longer had the strength to protest.
A writer for the Boxing News published earlier this year described the event as “one of the most famous bloodlettings in boxing history.”
Wolgast proclaimed himself the toughest boxer in the world. A few weeks later he returned home to Cadillac a hero. Wolgast stayed on top of the world for a couple more years. He successfully defended his title five times as he continued to fight at a furious pace that left little rest between bouts.
Cadillac historian Cliff Sjogren noted that Ring Magazine ranked the Wolgast-Nelson bout the 19th greatest fight of all time.
The magazine also named another Wolgast bout, in which he took on challenger Joe Rivers on July 4, 1912, the 11th best fight in history.
THE DOUBLE KNOCKOUT
The Rivers-Wolgast fight, known as the “double knockout,” also was one of the most controversial in history.
In the 13th round, with Wolgast covered in blood and losing on points, Rivers was up against the ropes. Rivers landed an uppercut to the champion’s face just as Wolgast landed a low blow to Rivers, and both men collapsed, apparently knocked out at the same moment.
A stunned crowd watched as the referee — who had been personally selected by Wol gast— picked Wolgast off of Rivers, counted Rivers out, and declared Wolgast the victor. A firestorm ensued. The decision would be a matter of controversy for years.
Just months laster, Wolgast would lose his championship title under the same circumstance that brought him victory against Rivers; he was called on a foul for a belowthe-belt punch in a fight against Willie Ritchie, costing him the title.
Wolgast’s record was far better in the years before he got the title than it was in the years after he lost it; his final career record was 60-13-17, with most of those wins coming before he lost of the championship and most of the losses and draws coming after.
By 1916, his career had more or less ended. Soon after, he was declared insane and committed to an asylum. Although he returned to the ring several times after being committed, these fights were embarrassing spectacles. The last one, in 1920, he assured fans that he would fight like a much younger man — on an account of a recent surgery he’d claimed to have undergone: the surgical implantation of goat glands into his testicles (a fad procedure of the time carried out by charlatan doctors who promised to reinvigorate men with youth).
The San Diego Evening Tribune quipped, after he badly lost that fight: “He refused to comment at the end of the bout whether he still favours goat glands.”
INSTITUTIONALIZED LIFE
Wolgast paid the price for the punishment he put himself through in the ring.
“The reason that Ad Wolgast had to retire was not that he couldn’t fight anymore, but that he couldn’t stop fighting,” Kraemer said.
Wolgast, it seems, picked fights with everyone after his retirement from boxing. It was as if the distinction between the ring and real life had vanished altogether.
“He was picking bloody fights with patrons where he was setting up billiard games.
He would pick fights with every single woman that he took in,” Kraemer said. “And he would pick fights with the grocer, and he would pick fights with his family. He was just fighting, and he couldn’t stop fighting. So he went into a mental institution.”
After 1920, a fight promoter took pity on Wolgast and took care of him, letting him train every day for a nonexistent rematch with Nelson, his nemesis.
In 1925, a news item titled “Deposed King” shows an older Wolgast racking pool balls and explained that the former boxer now worked at a California pool hall. That was a humble place for someone who, just a decade before, had been worth $1 million (which, in 1913, was worth about $24 million in today’s dollars).
Wolgast was committed permanently to mental institutions in 1927, and he remained institutionalized until his death in 1955 at age 67.
His time in asylums didn’t offer Wolgast freedom from his fighting life. When he was 61, he suffered such a beating at the hands of two orderlies who wanted to take on the champ that he was left permanently bedridden.
The punishing length of his boxing matches, combined with the frequency with which he fought, clearly had an impact on Wolgast’s mental health. Wolgast almost certainly suffered from CTE, or Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, a progressive degenerative disease of the brain found in people with a history of repetitive brain trauma.
STALLONE COMES TO TOWN
Wolgast’s life is the stuff of a Hollywood movie, and there has been interest, but so far no film has been made.
Wolgast, in the short time between his boxing career and permanent move into mental institutions, tried to make movies himself; he acted in a couple of silent films. He played a fighter in the 1923 film Some Punches and Judy and in the 1926 film The Prince of Broadway. Sjogren said Wolgast was able to get acting work in Hollywood even as his life was coming apart because he was such a good looking man.
But handsome face notwithstanding, his film career didn’t work out.
“He got into Hollywood about six months after everyone else got into Hollywood,” Kraemer said. “There was a flood of talent going to Hollywood. He got there — he got in, made a couple movies — but he wasn’t right for excelling in the Hollywood scene.”
Frank Stallone, brother of Sylvester Stallone, visited Cadillac in 2000 to research a movie about Wolgast. The film has not been made.
Kraemer found out about Stallone’s visit through a strange coincidence. When Kraemer started working at the museum three years ago after he and his wife moved to Cadillac from Ludington, he was going through the Wolgast material and found a museum sign-in sheet that he and his wife had signed years earlier. He wondered why the sheet was saved.
“What’s this attendance sheet doing in a file about our boxer? And my name was on it, my wife’s name. What are our names doing on this attendance sheet?” Kraemer said.
“I looked at it, and Frank Stallone had signed in just before we did. He was here researching a movie on Ad Wolgast … That’s why they saved that one attendance sheet.”
KID CADILLAC
There’s no evidence that Wolgast visited Cadillac later in life. His last visit may have been in early 1916, when he had a fight in Milwaukee. He tended to visit when he was close to home. His last fights took place out west.
Sjogren said Wolgast was marked by a love of his hometown, even if he stopped visiting.
“When he was in Milwaukee, they called him The Michigan Wildcat, and he wanted to be called The Cadillac Kid,” Sjogren said. “He liked his hometown.”
Sjogren thinks it’s strange there isn’t a better commemoration of Wolgast in Cadillac. “There was an initiative some time ago to create a statue,” he said, around the time Sjogren moved back to Cadillac in 2001. “People would ask me about it, and I’d say I think we should do that. You know, it’s not every small community in the country that has a world boxing champion. And he was a special one.”
Another great article about Ad Wolgast.
© 2013—2026 Boxing News
Ad Wolgast – The true story of the boxer and the goat
The incredible story of Ad Wolgast as told by Carlos Acevedo
Carlos Acevedo
8th February, 2020
Ad Wolgast – The true story of the boxer and the goat
LIKE another thunderous product from Cadillac, Michigan, the famous Shay locomotive, Ad Wolgast tore through the lightweight division for a few tumultuous years before derailing spectacularly in the kind of tragic circumstances all too common in prizefighting. If the appeal of boxing rests on its peculiar ability to dramatise – albeit on a small and unholy scale – certain bleak cultural touchstones – social Darwinism and the Nietzschean will to power, for example – then Wolgast can only be Exhibit #1. In his furious life, both in the ring and out, Wolgast resembled nothing if not a character from a Frank Norris or Stephen Crane novel, naturalism personified. Best remembered for his apocalyptic free-for-all against Battling Nelson in 1910, Wolgast also beat several world-class pros from 1908 to 1912, when prizefighting was in its brutal heyday, and before his peak was cut short by the hard logic of the ring.
At 16, Wolgast, son of a struggling farmer, left home to eke out a bootstrap subsistence throughout Michigan. He sold newspapers, shined shoes, and took on one odd job after another before finally settling on fisticuffs as a vocation. In 1907, after compiling a winning record across Grand Rapids and Petoskey, Wolgast moved to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where he built a bloody reputation as a relentless brawler with a crippling left hook and a ferocious body attack. Two years later, Wolgast settled in California, the centre of the boxing universe after professional fighting had been banned in New York City in 1901.
In Los Angeles, Wolgast raised his profile to a national level with solid showings in a pair of no-decision bouts against Abe Attell and reigning lightweight champion Battling Nelson. If not for the swaggering shadow of Jack Johnson, who dominated headlines from coast to coast, Oscar “Battling” Nelson would have been the most famous fighter of his era. Nelson, who underestimated Wolgast before their first fight in July 1909, sneered at the cocky upstart every chance he got. Finally, seven months after their first encounter, Nelson agreed to meet Wolgast again, this time with the title on the line.
To skirt laws against “fights to the finish,” promoter Sid Hester scheduled Nelson-Wolgast for a preposterous 45-round limit, knowing full well that the final bell would never ring. What Hester did not know, however, was that Nelson and Wolgast would fight so savagely and for so long. On February 22, 1910, Battling Nelson and Ad Wolgast took what Theodore Roosevelt called “the strenuous life” to grisly extremes in Port Richmond, California. When they met at ring centre for final instructions from referee Eddie Smith, Nelson more than justified the nickname – “The Abysmal Brute” – Jack London had given him. “Let everything go,” he snarled. “No fouls.” Never one to shy away from a brouhaha, Wolgast enthusiastically agreed and the stage was set for one of the most famous bloodlettings in boxing history. Both men tore at each other from the opening bell, with Wolgast, six years younger, getting the early edge. After a few rounds under the raw sun, Nelson, already bleeding from his nose and his mouth, sported purplish lunettes above each cheek. As the fight progressed, his eyes swelled shut completely, and Nelson found himself tottering on the verge of defeat. Still, Nelson would not yield. In the 22nd round, Nelson dropped Wolgast with a right cross, but Wolgast was as tough as an arrowhead, and he resumed battering the champion from one end of the ring to the other. Finally, in the 40th round, Nelson, nearly blind and splattered with his own gore, could only paw feebly at the air. Smith finally intervened, hours after the combatants had first touched gloves and long after the squeamish crowd had called for pity.
“Why say anything else?” Wolgast asked after his struggle against Nelson. “Just say I am the strongest man ever to put on gloves.” Indeed, Wolgast was strong enough to defend his title at a pace that far outstripped his predecessor. Among the notable fighters Wolgast faced during his title reign were Frankie Burns, Joe Mandot and Owen Moran. His melee against “Mexican” Joe Rivers on July 4, 1912 was such a spectacular disaster that it gave Wolgast a succès de scandale to go along with his already legendary title-winning effort against Nelson. Against Rivers, a Los Angeles native, Wolgast reveled in the ferocity of hand-to-hand combat, what reporter Lester Bromberg once called his “magnificent obsession.” Bruised and bloody, Wolgast was trailing on points when he cornered Rivers against the ropes in the 13th round. There, the two fighters unleashed simultaneous punches – Rivers a slashing right to the jaw and Wolgast an arcing left hook below the belt – that sent both men crashing for a double knockdown. With Wolgast on top of Rivers, referee Jack Welsh began tolling the count, and at some point before reaching “10”, he helped Wolgast to his feet. An outraged crowd, soon primed to rush the ring, watched as Rivers was counted out for a knockout loss.
To Wolgast, his close call against Rivers was just another example of his iron will. “Double knockout, hell,” he said after the fight. “I was just too strong for him. Put it in the paper, none of them can take a beating like Wolgast.” But less than six months later, Wolgast was an ex-champion already making his shaky way to a bleak and black future that lay ahead of him. On November 28, 1912, Wolgast took a terrible beating at the hands of Willie Mitchell in Daly City, California, before fouling out in the 16th round.
Although Wolgast was still only in his mid-20s, the ultraviolence he demanded between the ropes was beginning to affect him. In those days, boxing was far less charitable than it is now. Referees were less merciful, gloves were smaller, and rounds went far beyond reasonable limits. Little by little Wolgast was disintegrating – both personally and professionally. His brittleness, at odds with a ring style rooted in brutishness, was a dark premonition of his ultimate fate. Over the course of his unruly career, Wolgast had been stricken by appendicitis, ptomaine poisoning and pneumonia. He broke his wrist, broke his thumb, suffered fractured ribs as well. Although he was still a box-office attraction – due to his dead-game attitude – the losses began to mount. More than once he broke an arm during a fight. Between 1913 and 1916, Wolgast struggled against one opponent after another.
By 1917, Wolgast was in a Milwaukee psychiatric hospital for what was euphemistically called a ‘nervous breakdown.’ In truth, Wolgast was already suffering from dementia pugilistica. In and out of institutions for over a year, Wolgast was eventually released from a California hospital in 1918. To the dismay of the press, Wolgast resumed fighting in the Southwest and California, where he took more punishment from an assortment of second-raters. Eventually, Wolgast would need medical care, but the kind of treatment he received would wind up in a ‘stranger than fiction’ file.
After World War I, when the blood-drenched trenches of Verdun, Passchendaele and Warlencourt familiarised the globe with both shell shock and mass mechanised slaughter, America, naturally, turned to whoopee in response. Indeed, even with Prohibition looming over the country, the nascent Jazz Age introduced the foxtrot and hedonism as national pastimes. And all that adolescent vigour produced an unusual cultural byproduct: the new cottage industry of rejuvenation as peddled by numberless quacks. Old medicine show standbys such as swamp root, snake oil and sarsaparilla were joined by miracles such as Worm Candy, Pepsin and Vim-O-Gen. While the American Medical Association was still in the midst of professionalising healthcare through state licensing boards and a public crackdown on charlatans, rogue doctors, often with degrees purchased from diploma mills, continued hawking magic powders and elixirs anywhere from gleaming office suites to the backs of covered wagons.
Then, like something out of The Island of Dr. Moreau, animal transplants via tissue grafts suddenly became part of rejuvenation mania. Already something of a story in Europe, where Dr. Serge Voronoff had been experimenting with monkeys, the bizarre act of surgically inserting animal glands into scrotums promised to reverse ageing and give men new life in the bedroom.
In America, the most famous fraud of all was Dr. John Brinkley, who wisely swapped monkeys – exotic animals to most – with goats, a common presence on farms across the country. Brinkley, a dedicated con man who began his bunco career in a travelling show before becoming an ‘electric medic’, triggered an entire sub-industry of goat gland peddlers at the dawn of the Flapper era. Seemingly overnight, rejuvenation clinics opened in one city after another.
Wolgast, only 32 in 1920, was now a physical wreck and as desperate as any septuagenarian hoping to recapture his libido. So he did what so many easy marks had done since the rejuvenation fad began a few years earlier: he went to see “The Goat Man”. In June 1920, Wolgast underwent surgery in a Los Angles clinic. His ‘doctor’, P. Livingstone Barnes, pronounced the operation a success. “Wolgast has been completely restored to health,” he said. “He is normal now and his muscles are in excellent condition… His memory, once shattered so that he could not remember names, dates, places or conversations, is again normal and I see no reason why Wolgast cannot come back.”
Even for such a permissive age, the fact that Wolgast was allowed to fight again after having been institutionalised was astonishing. But Wolgast insisted his comeback would be different. After all, he had modern science in his corner. “I am no longer an old young man,” Wolgast announced, “I have the physique and qualities of one in his early twenties.”
On September 6, 1920, only a few months after his operation, Wolgast took part in his last fight, a desultory draw against Lee Morrissey in San Bernardino, California. “The crowd booed the one-time champion, and he left the ring almost in tears,” reported The San Diego Evening Tribune. “He refused to comment at the end of the bout whether he still favours goat glands.”
Wolgast, whose record stands at 60-13-17, with dozens of no-decision bouts, never fought again. Now a shambling mess, he was taken in by Jack Doyle, a friendly promoter who allowed Wolgast to live on his compound and train, in his own delusional way, in his gym. A few years later, however, Wolgast was so far gone that Doyle had him committed to Patton State Hospital in San Bernardino. From 1927 to his death nearly 30 years later, Wolgast was confined in a succession of institutions and was largely forgotten.
Almost fittingly, violence brought Wolgast back into the headlines in 1949, when two sadistic employees of Stockton State Hospital assaulted the “Michigan Wildcat”. It was like something out of a Hollywood noir – Wolgast, enfeebled, scrawny, and now in his sixties, abused by sinister orderlies. The beating Wolgast took left him hospitalised, then bedridden for the remaining years of his life. No longer would he shadowbox in the hospital corridors, where he had continued ‘training’ in a haze for a phantom bout with his greatest nemesis – Battling Nelson. When he finally died, on April 14, 1955, it must have been a mercy, one of the few a man as proud as Wolgast was likely to accept. Oh, yes, it must have been a mercy.
I'll tell you what, reading that article above, something jumped out at me and hit me hard, the part where it talks about Ad Wolgast near the end of his life, in the psychiatric hospital corridor shadow boxing, thinking he's training for Battling Nelson. Man that is heavy. It just shows you the effects those wars with Nelson and others had on him, they stuck with him until the end. The brutality of this sport is no joke.
This is my favorite photo of Ad Wolgast. Looking at this photo of him during his fight with Battling Nelson in 1910, he doesn't really come across as the beast that he was, he doesn't look like a guy that was capable of taking and handing out horrific beatings, he looks more like a guy you would see in a sweater on the campus of Princeton, his hair so nearly cut, his face so young and innocent looking, he looks like a college preppie or something. That's why I like this photo so much, it's just odd, because the man was one of the fiercest gladiators to ever live.
One more write-up on Ad Wolgast and then I'll post some photos from his legendary career.
The tragic story of Ad Wolgast — Cadillac's lightweight boxing champion of the world
By Chris Lamphere Cadillac News
Jul 13, 2022 Updated Aug 17, 2023
CADILLAC — One of the most triumphant and tragic stories to come out of Cadillac during the last 150 years is that of the “Michigan Wildcat” — Adolphus Wolgast, former lightweight boxing champion of the world.
Born on a farm near Cadillac on Feb. 8, 1888, “Ad” was one of 10 children raised by John and Amelia Wolgast.
A diminutive man, Wolgast stood about 5 feet, 4 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. A reporter described his features like this: “... with snappy brown eyes, long black lashes that softened their expression and gave a suggestion of the gentleness of a child gaze, and a good-natured smile.”
Ad received his first fighting experience as a teenager while working as a porter in Cadillac’s Saloon of William Parish. One of his early Cadillac fights was at the Elks Lodge.
According to Cadillac News reports from the time, Ad was introduced to boxing by Johnny Sheridan, a Cadillac character from the days of the first settlement renowned for the whiskey he could drink, his pugilistic skills, his willingness to break up meetings of the Salvation Army or any other “goody” assemblage, and the all-time Cadillac record for misdemeanor arrests.
Sheridan trained Wolgast and eventually took him to Grand Rapids, where he gained some early notoriety by knocking out Eddie Nelson in two rounds. Sheridan himself was in a semi-final match on that card, which drew nearly 300 Cadillac fans to Grand Rapids to see the fight.
After fighting for a time in Grand Rapids, Wolgast went to Wisconsin to continue his career. He fought regularly starting in 1906 and by 1910, had secured a lightweight title match with Oscar “Battling” Nelson.
Wolgast’s legendary fight against Nelson lasted for a grueling 40 rounds. In the 40th, Nelson was so badly battered that the referee stopped the fight. It was stated at the time that there had never been a fight in which primitive instincts were so much on the surface. This was a “battle of cavemen,” according to a newspaper man of the day.
During the fight, both combatants punished each other so brutally that after 25 rounds, “the more squeamish fans among the gathering were begging the referee to end this gory spectacle” — a statement made by Alex Laggis, a sports writer of the time. Wolgast fought when such practices as head butting and fight to the finish matches were allowed. Falls didn’t count in those days either.
Immense crowds gathered in the Cadillac Evening News office, the “Alnu” and the “Budweiser” (local establishments) to listen to the returns of the fight as they were received by telegram.
“During the time the telegrams came excitement ran high,” the newspaper reported. “’Wolgast lands on Nelson’ seemed to be the leading sentence in every one and at those times rapping for order was not heeded. The applause deafened all attempts to read the messages ... When the last message was received — the suspense from the 34th round was awful — the crowd in the Budweiser was a crazy one. Out on the street they rushed and there, under the arc light at the intersection of Mitchell and Harris streets, stood a big bass drum and a few circular saws. Hands from everyone grabbed these instruments and a procession quickly formed and followed the things as far as the Y.M.C.A. building and returned.”
A few weeks after the victorious bout, Wolgast returned to his hometown to much fanfare.
“A crowd of hundreds was at the depot long before the train pulled in, an eager expectant crowd that went wild when the train slowed down and the Wolgast party alighted ... As the train rounded the curve south of the depot, track torpedoes that had been placed on the rails exploded ... The signal at the depot was alright so the engineer slowly pulled into the station. Then he knew somebody was on his train for no sooner had the train stopped then red fuses were burning, roman candles were shooting into the night and the cheers were deafening.”
A description of the entourage that followed Wolgast around during his visit to Cadillac immediately after the championship fight offers a fascinating glimpse into his pampered lifestyle at that time.
“He came like royalty, attended by a retinue. There was his trainer, three or four gentlemen in waiting and dozens of newsboys and others who had recognized him and trailed along after. All during the little visit this “man of the hour” made, the outside door was pushed open and a gang of boys in the hall took turns ‘peeking’ at the hero. Later this crowd had grown so it reached the street and comprised at least 200 who were waiting to see him sally forth. When he was ready to go and rose, a dozen willing hands reached for his coat. The fortunate one who grabbed it held it for the small fighter to get into, with an air of offering incense to a saint.”
Keep this scene in mind, as it offers a stark contrast to the dismal conditions of Wolgast’s life later on, as the damage from battles such as the one with Nelson had already started to take its toll.
Wolgast held the crown of lightweight boxing champion for two years, defending it in the ring 22 times, finally losing it to Willie Ritchie on a foul in 16 rounds in 1912. During his reign as champion, Wolgast had endured two broken arms and appendicitis, which ultimately required surgery.
The years between 1912 and 1920 were busy for Wolgast, who continued to fight while also maintaining his farm in Cadillac and engaging in various other eccentric pursuits.
In September 1913, Wolgast lamented that he was disappointed by the year’s crop yield and blamed his hired workers for “loafing” on the job.
“My men get more work done in a week when I’m home than they do in a month when I am somewhere west of the Rockies,” Wolgast said.
In March 1915, a notice ran in the newspaper indicating that Wolgast had purchased several Siberian rabbits from a dealer in Milwaukee.
“Ad is now taming the rabbits and expects to turn ‘em out to graze as soon as he has them thoroughly trained,” the notice stated. “He hopes to have several hundred Lapland rabbits in time.”
Wolgast also trained extensively for upcoming fights, and his trainers made use of the latest technology to aid in those efforts, including a piano so he could box to music.
“The innovation was tried while Wolgast was going through his stunts,” a Cadillac News reporter wrote. “While the Dutchman was in a heated mix-up with one of his sparring partners, the pianist played ‘Die Wacht am Rhein.’ The former champion dropped his hands and turned around. He wore a look of surprise and afterward asserted it was the first time in his years of experience in the ring that he ever had boxed to music.”
In the years after losing his title, Wolgast even became involved in politics, first advocating for Wexford County to remain a “dry” county, where alcohol is not allowed, to reversing his position a couple of years later.
“Two years ago I issued a statement in favor of local option, thinking at that time local option would be best for Cadillac from a moral standpoint,” Wolgast said. “Since then I find local option does not prohibit, that beer and whiskey, are being shipped here daily in wholesale quantities, and I now think it best, from a moral and financial standpoint, to vote back the licensed, regulated saloon, as the only way to get what we thought we were getting two years ago — through temperance.”
Also during this period, Wolgast had one of his most well-known bouts with “Mexican” Joe Rivers. During this fight, the pair battled for 12 rounds and the outcome was still a tossup when both landed terrific belts at the same instant to start the 13th round. Both men were felled by the blow but Wolgast was the first to stagger to his feet even with a broken left hand and other crippling injuries and was judged the victor.
Years of this sort of punishment added up, and by 1916, it was obvious that Wolgast’s physical and mental health were rapidly deteriorating. That year, at the age of 26, he was adjudged insane by a Michigan court, and in March of the following year, Mrs. Mildred Wolgast was appointed special administrator of her husband’s estate while he was a patient in St. Mary’s Sanitarium in Milwaukee. In April, Wolgast was declared not competent to conduct business affairs, and his wife was named by Probate Judge Breen as guardian of his person and his property.
According to Ad’s brother, Louis, Wolgast was but a shadow of his former self. “Ad only weighs 86 pounds and his hair is rapidly turning gray,” stated Louis, in a letter to a friend. “The chances are he will never leave the Milwaukee sanitarium. Ad wants to become an instructor in boxing in the United States Army, but, of course, he could not do that. His physical condition would not permit it.”
This is where the story gets weird: In an effort to regain his health, Wolgast sought out an experimental form of medical treatment.
“A story of the rejuvenation of Ad Wolgast through the transplantation of goat glands was printed in the Detroit Free Press Sunday,” reads a notice in the Cadillac Evening News on Aug. 18, 1920. D. P. Livingstone Barnes performed the operation on June 22, and claimed there was no reason why the former champion lightweight boxer should not regain his standing the world of sport.
“Those who have seen the fighter working out lately say the operation has changed him from a decrepit shell with one foot in the grave and the other headed toward the insane asylum, to an athlete,” Barnes said. “His mind and body are now normal. His muscles are like steel and his hands can now withstand the hardest punch. He rises at 7 a.m. each day, does road work and skips the rope. Then he tackles the pulley and punching bag. An open-air amphitheater is to be built for his comeback. He will do three four-round boats in California and then go after his lost laurels.”
Despite assurances from Barnes, Wolgast didn’t recover and while he was allowed to fight late into 1920, for all intents and purposes, his professional boxing career was over.
He never fought professional after 1920, but in 1925, Wolgast would go four rounds against a girl boxer, Patty Royer, on the vaudeville card during the Northern District Fair in Wexford County.
He later spent some time as a trainer in a California boxing camp, which was his favorite stomping ground when he was the titleholder. Due to his damaged mental state, he still thought that he was the champ.
In 1927, Wolgast was held on an insanity warrant in Los Angeles after he had become violent. He was committed to Patton State Hospital in California and remained there until his death from a heart ailment in 1955.
In the course of his career, Wolgast fought 145 times and won 85 fights. According to one early writer, Wolgast was worth about $1 million at the peak of his career. Most of the money was earned by placing enormous bets on himself, oftentimes hocking everything that he had.
There are no monuments in Cadillac today honoring Wolgast, but in the past, efforts have been made to recognize his contributions to boxing and the city’s history.
In 1963, Cadillac Evening News sports writer Carl A. Paulsen contacted sports writers throughout the state and urged that Wolgast be in the state’s athletic Hall of Fame. Subsequently in May 1964, Wolgast was inducted into the state’s shrine for sports stars at a special luncheon at the Detroit Rooster Tail restaurant.
Also that year, a large billboard was mounted at the south entrance to Cadillac to announce the city as the birthplace of Wolgast. Chamber of Commerce manager John Toepp said he got the idea for the sign during a trip to the Upper Peninsula. He saw a sign at Laurium pointing out the fact that it was the home city of George Gipp, Notre Dame All-American football player.
I've already posted photos from the Ad Wolgast-Battling Nelson fight in 1910, so not going to rehash that, but I haven't posted this photo yet, this is a photo of Ad Wolgast (left) and his manager Tom Jones after that fight and you can see the damage it did. Wolgast certainly doesn't look like a college preppie in this photo, he looks hard as Chromium.
These photos are from July 4th, 1911 in San Francisco, when Ad Wolgast knocked out Owen Moran in the 13th round. Of course, Moran was the only man in history to knockout out Battling Nelson, and Moran was one of the hardest gunslingers of that era, he was no joke. Moran claimed the blow that knocked him out was low, there is no footage of the fight so I don't know, but images of Moran on the canvas after the being hit do show him holding his lower extremities. I also read that Owen Moran was headbutting and elbowing Wolgast and you didn't want to do that with Wolgast, he was vicious.
I mean my God, just look at these photos of Owen Moran after being knocked out by Wolgast, mouth open, he looks like he was just hit by a 12-gauge shotgun blast.
Great shot of Wolgast.
Back to boxing, good image of Ad Wolgast squaring off with James J. Jeffries at Jeffries' home in California.
Another photo of Ad Wolgast (on the left) with James J. Jeffries (middle). The man on the right is the great featherweight Abe Attell and the man on Jeffries' back is the great featherweight Johnny Coulon.
Lightweight champion Ad Wolgast came out victorious in the famous "double knockout fight" by 13th round KO over Mexican Joe Rivers at the Arena in Vernon, California on the 4th of July in 1912.
Wolgast, aka "The Michigan Wildcat," was a fighter truly from another era and perhaps a slightly different sport altogether. He was incredibly tough and knew how to fight long distance matches: Wolgast fought 15 rounds or more about a dozen times, including several that lasted 20 and 45 rounds. He'd been operated on for appendicitis, however, and it sidelined him for months.
Rivers was tough and hard-hitting like Wolgast. According to lore, he would fight outside on the street, in front of the local Los Angeles venues that hosted smaller boxing shows in the early 1900s. A local promoter heard about Rivers and took him under his wing as Rivers, then known as José Ybarra, was a young teen. He rattled off about 15 wins, lost a few, fought to a few draws, and was lined up for Wolgast.
Rivers got off to a fast start in the fight before difficulty in the middle rounds. He'd surpassed expectations in taking the fight into the double digits in rounds, though.
In round 13, a chaotic sequence led to one of boxing history's strangest fight results: as Rivers backed to the ropes seeking shelter from the fast pace, Wolgast landed a low blow, and Rivers connected with what appeared to be a clean knockout shot upstairs. Both collapsed to the canvas, Rivers in pain and Wolgast all but unconscious. The referee lifted Wolgast off the canvas and administered a count over a a confused and apparently injured Rivers before counting him out entirely.
The response to the result in newspapers was mixed, with some writers declaring the result an injustice, and others dismissed it as simply one of those weird things that tends to happen in boxing. Either way, the controversy was immediately recognized by all. Wolgast and Rivers fought two years later, but the rematch ended in a draw and business was never truly settled between these two.
Throwback Thursday: Ad Wolgast Curiously Stops Mexican Joe Rivers
By: Patrick Connor
A constant thorn in boxing’s side since its inception has been the dissection of its health. Through centuries of prizefighting — and more than 100 years of gloved pugilism — boxing has died and has been resurrected numerous times already. But by the early 1900s, boxing had cut through the hyperbole and hammered tent stakes into the rough soil of American consciousness.
Boxing was already a very international sport, but there was something very American about a loose confederation of entities controlling most of the resources and bending whatever rules there were at the time. Also very American was boxing’s tendency to draw competitors of a wide ethnic variety.
The tradition of pitting ethnic groups against one another in the name of sport continues today across the board. In previous eras, the ethnic angle was often as much about marketing and promotion as it was about actually mobilizing demographics, but, like now, when the in-ring action was good, the skin color could be transcended. And like now, all that could crumble with the blackening of an eye.
On July 4, 1912, Ad Wolgast battled “Mexican” Joe Rivers in Los Angeles, defending his lightweight title claim in dubious fashion before a large crowd that frothed for justice before the day was through.
Born Adolphus Wolgast in Cadillac, Mich. in 1888, Ad was the oldest of seven children, including brothers Al and Johnny who would go on to become professional fighters. At 18, Wolgast began fighting regularly in Grand Rapids. The Grand Rapids Press, reporting before Wolgast’s second pro bout in June of 1906 said, “Young Wolgast, the other Cadillac product, who is to take part in the show, is said to be a crackerjack youngster, and he will meet a good man in Young [Eddie] Nelson, who has fought no less than twenty battles in the past six months without a defeat being registered against him.”
Wolgast wound up stopping Nelson in three rounds at Powers’ Opera House, but lost on points in a rematch a few weeks later. But in only a few months, Wolgast was an attraction in Michigan before venturing over to Wisconsin in 1907. Staying unbeaten through the first few months of 1908, Wolgast had no significant wins, save for a 1st round knockout of former featherweight contender Ole Olsen, which ended the latter’s career.
A newspaper loss to Owen Moran in New York did little to derail Wolgast, as Moran had just fought to a draw with featherweight champion Abe Attell at promoter James Coffroth’s Arena in Colma, Calif. a few months prior. After scoring two draws in Racine, Wis., Wolgast took his show to California with a (42-2-8, 18 KO) record.
Three wins in or near Los Angeles — where it had become illegal to schedule fights for longer than 10 rounds or render decisions — landed Wolgast a shot at Attell in a non-title bout. A 10 round draw later, and Wolgast had boosted his credentials considerably, and picked up manager Tom Jones.
In 1909, Wolgast fought his way to a fight with lightweight champion Battling Nelson in another non-title bout in L.A. After handing Nelson what the Los Angeles Herald called a “thorough beating,” the demand for Wolgast to challenge for some manner of title was sky high.
Wolgast went east, then fought his way back to California, where he was matched against Nelson in February of 1910, just outside of San Francisco. And this time Nelson’s title was on the line.
Nelson and Wolgast pushed one another to the 40th round in a hellish affair. Both men had been rocked and bloodied, and Wolgast touched the canvas in the 22nd. But referee Eddie Smith was forced to save Nelson from himself, as the comically tough character refused to submit.
The new lightweight champion traveled to San Francisco, the party center of the West Coast, and relished his new-found fame and attention. But as the champion, business called, and in June, Wolgast was back in the ring.
What should have been a routine warm up against Jack Redmond in Milwaukee actually weighed heavily on Wolgast’s career; at some point during their bout, Wolgast suffered a freak arm injury. After taking two months off, Wolgast jumped back in with a newspaper win, but a September meeting with Tommy McFarland in Fon Du Lac, Wisc. ended with Wolgast earning a difficult newspaper decision and walking away with his left arm fractured directly below the elbow.
Four months away from the ring had Wolgast, press and fans alike anxious for a title defense, and Wolgast returned in 1911, losing two newspaper decisions to Knockout Brown in two difference cities. Before March was up, Wolgast made two defenses in Califonia. April saw Wolgast taking out One Round Hogan in two, and another defense in May came over Oakland Frankie Burns.
On the Fourth of July, 1911, Wolgast defended his belt once more, but this time against an old foe: former conqueror Owen Moran. After 10 rounds of solid action, the champion took a few rounds off for no apparent reason. But at the start of round 13, Wolgast attacked Moran, landing a number of punches downstairs before the Briton began to slowly sink to the canvas. As he slid down, Wolgast landed a right hand that essentially put Moran out. In a heap, Moran attempted to plead his case that he had been hit low, but he was counted out.
Little attention was paid to Moran’s claims of foul, and again the champion reveled in his fame.
As Wolgast was in training to face future lightweight champion Freddie Welsh in Colorado, however, a bout of appendicitis struck Wolgast, who was forced to be carted to the hospital for an emergency surgery, and then ordered to stay out of action for a number of months.
In early May, after being sidelined for what seemed like a decade, an article in the Denver Post written by H.M. Walker — who would later become a prolific screenwriter — wore the title, “Joe Rivers Greatest Boxer Mexico Has Ever Produced.” Walker went on to say, “A couple of years ago Joe had to make a weekly fight to slide his fork through enough red beans to satisfy his healthy appetite. Now Joe wears diamonds as big as cranberries, owns two automobiles and has real estate holdings scattered all over Los Angeles county. Rivers pugilistic record speaks for itself. He is, by far, the best boxer California has produced since the afternoon when Jim Corbett added up his last column of figures and told the bank people to hire another mule. Joe is matched to box Ad Wolgast at Venon on next July 4 for the lightweight championship of the world. The Mexican flag will be tied around the top rope in his corner and if the little bronze boy lives up to his friends’ expectations, it is going to be an interesting day for the gringos, Wolgast and [Tom] Jones.”
Los Angeles birthed Mexican Joe Rivers in 1892, though he went by the name of Jose Ybarra then. A fourth-generation Californian, Rivers happened to be passing by Al Greenwald’s Cigar Store as great L.A. promoter Tom McCarey stressed himself up and down the street, in need of an opponent for Max “Young” Webber the following evening. As the story was told in a press release prior to Wolgast-Rivers I, Rivers either heard or saw McCarey worrying, and volunteered himself for the job at just 15-years-old. When McCarey asked a few locals about the kid, they told him they’d seen Rivers staging street fights prior to club shows outside local venues, and that the kid was tough and could punch.
McCarey took Rivers under his wing and gave him an accessible name, waiting for Rivers to turn 18 to press forward with his professional career. In 1910, Rivers rattled off five wins, and the following year his opposition rose sharply when he picked up manager Joe Levy, and Rivers went 1-1 against Johnny Kilbane, who was months away from becoming featherweight champion. The loss, however, was a knockout that seemed to stay with Rivers in the press until his next defeat, when coupled with a few other flash knockdowns suffered.
Rivers had a good thing going in Vernon, Calif., though, and fought to a draw in 20 rounds with former bantamweight champion Frankie Conley to close out 1911. Then on the first day of 1912, Rivers got revenge over Conley and stopped him in 11 rounds. The Boston Herald said of the fight, “Conley constantly carried the fight to his opponent, only to receive the worst beating of his ring career.”
In March, Rivers easily vanquished fringe contender Jack White, bringing his record to (15-1-2, 10 KO), and putting himself in line to challenge Wolgast for his title claim.
Wolgast, it seemed, was getting big for his britches despite his appendicitis operation. A news wire from Los Angeles reported that during a meeting with promoter Tom McCarey, Wolgast had pinned a huge diamond on the front of his coat and walked with an expensive cane. His promoter Tom Jones cracked, “We will make any weight for this bird Rivers from 122 up and let him name the weight. We are going to work on the Fourth of July and we would rather work here than any other place. We would like to get Rivers, as it would be a great contest, but Rivers is only one of a half dozen challenges.”
Not to be outdone, during pre-fight promotion, Levy introduced his charge to everyone as “the next lightweight champion of the world.”
Moving past the outward confidence, Wolgast still fully intended to take a few shorter fights to ready himself for serious milling once more. In early May, he tangled with Willie Ritchie at Coffroth’s Arena, knocking his future nemesis down twice before being rocked multiple times and out-boxed for the rest of the four rounds. Immediately afterward, he told reporters, “What I need is five or six of these short-route fights before I take on Joe Rivers on the Fourth of July. I have not noticed any ill effects from the operation I underwent in Los Angeles. The test with Ritchie shows I am in good shape in the mid-section.”
Refusing to stay idle, Rivers performed in paid sparring exhibitions against Babe Davis, one of his chief training partners, and Willie Canole. Rivers said he had been offered a lot of money to tour the vaudeville circuit, but the exhibitions paid similarly and kept him in better shape. The shows weren’t particularly well-received, however, as the San Francisco crowd on hand for his May 3 exhibition against Davis grew bored, and some asked for their money back.
On the last day of May, Wolgast won a newspaper decision from Young Jack O’Brien amid fears he would be pulling out of the match up due to a back injury. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the U.S., multiple newspapers noted the disinterest in Jack Johnson’s upcoming defense of the heavyweight title against “Fireman” Jim Flynn in favor of Wolgast-Rivers.
Rivers set up training camp at Shaw’s Gymnasium in Venice, while Wolgast went to Wheeler Springs for a week or two in order to be outdoors, per his team. It may have just been propaganda, but reports out of Wolgast’s camp stated that he had worn out one of his Stag Hounds, who was so tired from Wolgast’s training, he refused to do road work with the champion anymore.
Wolgast sparred regularly with Pete McVeigh and Kid Dalton upon returning to the city and setting up camp in Vernon, where the fight was schedule to take place. In mid-June, odds were reported as 10-to-9 in favor of Wolgast, and a few days later, the odds had slid toward Wolgast even more at 10-to-6.
H.M. Walker, who was on hand in Wolgast’s training camp for the Denver Post, noted the week of the fight that Wolgast had been going full speed in the gym, demanding that his training partners and sparring partners not take it easy on him. Walker said, “Ad’s recent mountaineering, to all appearances, has improved his physical condition in more ways than one. His mind, judging my yesterday’s workout–his first real entrance upon his training for his Fourth of July go with Mexican Joe Rivers–is improved. His stamina, which it was feared had received a severe setback through the operation for appendicitis last winter, has undoubtedly improved, and the trip added five pounds to his weight.”
But a few days later, Wolgast worked out before a crowd of approximately 3,000 people at promoter Doyle’s training facility, looking none too impressive, per the Riverside Independent Enterprise. Wolgast then retired to vaudeville actor Nat Goodwin’s ranch to finish much of his training. In the days before the bout, in fact, media focused on the fact that Wolgast was actually underweight for the bout by almost 10 pounds.
Attention shifted away from Wolgast’s weight when both fighters’ training camps cooled down, and at least one media member was quick to point out that Rivers wasn’t exactly a veteran in the lightweight division, himself. Also aiding in distracting press from asking Wolgast fitness questions was the battle over who would be the third man in the ring. Wolgast and Jones suggested San Francisco referee Jack Welsh, who had refereed four of Wolgast’s previous bouts, while a more neutral arbiter in James Jeffries was sought by Rivers’ camp. When Jeffries declared he couldn’t participate as he knew both fighters too well, Rivers settled on Welsh, which would prove to be a serious error.
Hobo Dougherty, a featherweight out of Wisconsin, was befriended by Wolgast early in the latter’s career. As Dougherty told it, Wolgast was kind enough to donate a quarter to the Hobo’s next meal or two, as the nickname was literal at the time. Dougherty was asked whether or not Wolgast was healthy the day before the bout, and he replied, “Ad is faster and stronger than he was before the operation. I don’t know who could know better than me.”
Wolgast said going into the fight, “I will down Rivers–then let the rest of the bunch look out.”
Rivers remarked, “Wolgast might run into a surprise party that will make him heart sore.”
The toll of a bell set Wolgast and Rivers upon one another, and the two men “fought like catamounts,” as one news wire wrote, matching the later Fourth of July festivities. But the same news wire said of round 1, “Rivers was much faster and his blocking was better than that of the champion.” Rivers was pushing the fight early, and Wolgast was keeping up, but not getting the better.
A one-round lead bled into carnage in round 2, as Rivers was seemingly unable to miss, and a cut strangely opened up near Wolgast’s neck that was spurting blood. Before the round was over, Wolgast’s nose had also sprung a serious leak. But Wolgast came roaring back in the 3rd, exchanging with Rivers and covering the challenger with crimson in the clinch, though Rivers’ opened up the wound on Wolgast’s neck further when the two tussled on the inside.
The Grand Rapids Press, reporting from about 100 miles outside of Wolgast’s hometown, said, “During the early rounds Rivers led by a wide margin, Wolgast seeming to have planned to let his opponent tire himself out, not really beginning to fight like he has in the past until after the sixth round.”
Wolgast’s timing was off when Rivers fought from the outside, and the challenger was tagging Wolgast before falling in and mugging. Through round 6, Wolgast was stunned a few times and had a shade in perhaps one round, and it was debatable. And in round 6, a right hand inside floored Wolgast, who bounced up immediately, but was trailing badly.
Round 7 saw Wolgast pushing the envelope with body shots — some legal, some not — and finally getting to Rivers, who slowed and looked to clinch after rocking Wolgast again. In the 8th, Rivers’ defense turned to flight, and Wolgast attempted wild rushed to punish Rivers about the body and slow him down, which worked.
Slower action marked the 9th, though Rivers a few times targeted the area where Wolgast’s appendectomy scar lived, which summoned forth more body work from the latter that likely stole the round. And the 10th continued with Rivers trying to keep away and win from the outside, but Wolgast was rushing in to interrupt any possibly rhythm to be had. To make matters worse for Rivers, his defense had largely become simply covering up, as Wolgast was gaining steam in the clinch, and the Californian’s legs were weakening.
There were still some surprises from Rivers, though, and a round-by-round recap via news wire said of round 11, “Rivers seemed to force the fighting. Wolgast could not hit him hard and clinched. Rivers then stood still and took four or five hard lefts and rights to the jaw but never winced. He then sent in a hard left staggering the champion. Wolgast’s smile had disappeared, and he seemed very tired.”
Aggression from Wolgast had become highly flawed, and Rivers’ simple covering up was proving sufficient to avoid most punishment. Wolgast couldn’t break through.
The men began mixing up again in round 13, though Rivers had retreated to the ropes during the round a few times. In the final sequence, Wolgast backed Rivers to the ropes, and per most reports, caught Rivers with a left hook to the cup. Nearly simultaneously, Wolgast took a right hand that leveled the champion. As both men fell at the same time, referee Welsh appeared confused and briefly looked to ringside officials for guidance, ignoring River’s plea that he had been hit low, and very hard. Welsh walked over to Wolgast, who was all but dead weight, and helped dragged him to his corner, declaring Wolgast the winner.
Owen R. Bird of the Los Angeles Times wrote of the fascinating result, “The pace had been ferocious from the opening bell and toward the end of the 13th the fury was redoubled. Then this thing happened. Both fighters suddenly lay writhing on the floor together, almost in a heap. The referee seemed to be trying to count out Rivers, and help Ad Wolgast to his feet in a confused sort of way. Rivers had apparently been fouled, but after a moment’s hesitation, the referee began to count over him. It took Jack Welch eight seconds to count out Rivers, after he had been fouled, and render a decision, besides helping the fallen champion to his feet. The gong rang as he finished the downward stroke of the five count. As for the fight–there never was a better one in the Vernon area.”
Trainer at the Los Angeles Athletic Club, De Witt Van Court, said, also via the Los Angeles Times, “I saw Wolgast hit Rivers a hard left-hand in the groin as plain as I ever saw anything… I believe Rivers had hit him square in the stomach and knocked his wind out. I also believe Rivers was entitled to the decision on a foul.”
An uproar from ringside spilled into the ring, with River’s corner and supporters threatening to set chaos loose. Welsh wisely fled. Both fighters claimed to have been fouled: Rivers with the low blow, and Wolgast said he had taken a knee to the head when Rivers went down and pulled Wolgast down with him. Rivers and his team infamously produced a badly dented metal foul protector as evidence, which caught on as a news item.
Editor of the San Francisco Chronicle, Harry B. Smith, wrote from ringside, “Wolgast’s victory was a hollow one save for that he retained the all-precious title. His reputation is torn to tatters and it is safe to say the next time he steps into a ring with a foe worthy of him there will be no two to one offered by his backers.”
The Denver Post said, “The public, the one means of support of the fight game, received another wallop at Los Angeles yesterday afternoon when referee Welch (sic) gave Ad Wolgast the decision over Joe Rivers. In giving Wolgast the verdict Welch plainly showed that he is either incompetent or that Rivers was jobbed.”
Countering much of the negative press and cries of a fix or botched verdict, however, was none other than H.M. Walker. He said, “Up to the sensational finale the battle had been one of the most ferocious ever staged in southern California. Wolgast had proved to be the Wolgast of old. No longer the specter of the appendicitis operation hung over him. Trained to physical perfection, he was fighting like a wounded tiger, had punched and hooked Rivers’ nose and eyes until his features were unlovely to look upon and had beaten Joe about the body until he was weak. Rivers could scarcely have lasted the limit of twenty rounds. … Many take issue with me, but I sincerely believe that Wolgast has established his supremacy over the Mexican. The thirteenth round confusion was caused by Referee Welch completely losing his bearings.”
Former fighter Harry Gilmore said via news wire from Chicago, “It was anything but robbery, Welch is a courageous referee and while the mixup was a confusing one he did not hesitate in counting the Mexican boy out the second he dropped from the blow. While openly admitting that the blow landing right on the belt line, with a fraction of the glove showing low, it was not sufficient to be characterized a foul and the real force of the punch was felt above. Up to the thirteenth and final round Wolgast was a decided winner and had his plucky opponent badly banged up, with the betting questionable whether or not Rivers would last the fifteen rounds. It was undoubtedly one of the best and most terrific lightweight battles that the coast has seen while it lasted and though Rivers failed in his aspirations to becomed the champion he will be great in his defeat, for he fought desperately and as savagely as a wildcat until the champion had calmed him down after the seventh round.”
It was reported that Wolgast took home about $40,000, and had a deal for 50 percent of the film rights and the same percentage of the gate.
Two days after the fight, photos sent to various newspapers seemed to only deepen the mystery, as they showed Wolgast landing two left hands to the belt line, and both fighters collapsing near the ropes, then sprawled out and groggy as Welsh mostly looked on, squinting into the sun. And in hindsight, Welsh’s involvement with both the Moran bout and the Rivers debacle, and the fact that both were on the Fourth of July, was strange, to put it kindly.
According to an 80th anniversary article in the Los Angeles Times by Earl Gustkey, film of the bout showed that the left hand from Wolgast was clearly low, but how and why Wolgast went down the way he did wasn’t clear.
Wolgast would lose four more times by disqualification, and in at least two other bouts, an opponent of his claimed to have been hit low at a crucial point in the fight. The November following the first Rivers encounter had Wolgast losing the lightweight title by DQ to previous foe Ritchie, who again defeated the former champion in 1914. A draw with Rivers in 1914 followed by a stoppage of Rudy Unholz were Wolgast’s final flurries as a serious fighter. He couldn’t manage to defeat an upper level fighter ever again, and retired after his only fight in 1920.
Boxing had already sunk its teeth in and was tearing off chunks, as Wolgast suffered a “nervous breakdown” in 1917 and was declared mentally incompetent by a Milwaukee court. Wolgast went through the Wisconsin system, and was then transferred to the Stockton State Prison’s psychiatric ward, where he was reportedly beaten mercilessly on more than one occasion by guards who wanted to test their mettle against a former champion.
Years of health problems and mental decline plagued Wolgast, who was in hospitals or institutions more than he wasn’t. In 1955, the former lightweight champion of the world succumbed to pneumonia and lingering heart issues and passed away at 67-years-old in a state hospital.
On the Fourth of July in 1913, Rivers was again stopped for the lightweight title, but this time by Ritchie, and legitimately. Rivers faced Freddie Welsh, Johnny Dundee, Frankie Callahan, Johnny Griffiths and Willie Hoppe, unable to defeat any of them. As 1917 came to a close, Rivers’ loss column became overpopulated, and his opposition became much weaker. From 1920 to 1924, Rivers fought up and down the West Coast, unable to revive his career, and he retired at 32. However, his first bout against Dundee is said to have been the last 20 round bout in California before fights could legally be just four rounds, for a decade.
As years went by, Rivers largely stayed out of the spotlight, though the famous “double knockout fight” between he and Wolgast lived on, occasionally cited by sports writers in need of odd facts to add to their columns. There were various false reports of Rivers passing away, oddly, but in 1957, Rivers found himself in the Los Angeles County General Hospital with an unknown ailment, before he was transferred to the Inglewood Sanitarium, where he died of a cerebral hemmhorage at 65.
The supreme irony is that the sport that made both Ad Wolgast and Joe Rivers was constantly pointing to both of them as reasons why the sport should no longer be. Wolgast’s physical deterioration was very public, while Rivers’ health issues were only widely known at the end. Nonetheless, aside from being the subjects of sporting factoids, they were both also used as cautionary tales.
California succeeded in stamping out lengthy bouts in professional boxing, but only temporarily. History remembers Wolgast-Rivers I in a skewed manner, but that it’s remembered at all is about as important.
Photos from the Wolgast-Rivers "double knockout fight." The last photo shows the referee pulling Wolgast up and counting Rivers out.
The controversy from the "double knockout fight" continues to this day.
World heavyweight champion Jess Willard poses for the camera with Ad Wolgast (left) and Willie Hoppe, circa 1916. For generations, Willard's was the first name that came to the minds of fight fans when the question arose of who was the biggest heavyweight king of all-time. Standing just under 6'7" and weighing around 240 pounds, for decades "The Pottawatomie Giant's" only championship rival in terms of sheer size was Primo Carnera (6'6"). But that changed starting in the 1990's with the arrival of Vitali Klitschko (6'7"), followed by Deontay Wilder (6'7") and Tyson Fury (6'9"). The biggest of them all is of course Nikolai Valuev who was seven feet tall and weighed over 300lbs.
My goodness, it's a shame there's not many Ad Wolgast fight photos available, I'll post whatever I can find. On November 29, 1909 at Dreamland Rink in San Francisco, California lightweights Ad Wolgast and Lew Powell battled in the main event. Wolgast won a 20 round decision. This is a photo of Wolgast (left) and Powell facing off before their bout.
Epic shots of Ad Wolgast after his bout with Frankie Burns on February 7 ,1916. The bout was declared a news decision draw after 10 rounds. It's amazing looking at these photos of Wolgast, he looks so normal, you would never know he was one of the most savage fighters in boxing history, a lightweight terror, capable of going 40-rounds in apocalyptic hand-to-hand combat.
Nice shot of Ad Wolgast as lightweight champion in a fight pose.
I'm not sure who Ad Wolgast (left) is shaking hands with in this photo, but it's a really great image. The clothes from the time period, the hats, the walking stick are cool.
The toll this sport takes. The top photo is Ad Wolgast's face at the beginning of his career, and the bottom photo is his face after 133 fights. The second photo, he was declared insane by that point. He died at Camarillo State mental hospital in California where he had been confined for many years, brain dead and a broken man.
Let's get some Ad Wolgast cards in here, 1912 T227 Honest Long Cut Tobacco. Love the neon green colored background.
1910 E77 American Caramel Ad Wolgast.
1910 E80 Philadelphia Caramel "44 Scrappers" Ad Wolgast.
1910 T229 Pet Cigarettes and the 1910 Kopec Cigarettes version, both ridiculously rare.
1911 T9 Turkey Red Cabinets Ad Wolgast, beautiful card.
1910 Red Sun Cigarettes Ad Wolgast, another ridiculously rare card. I can't find photos of a decent copy of the card so I just put this together.
Now you know what, this is so cool, I found the photo of Ad Wolgast that was used for the images on his American Caramel, Pet Cigarettes and Kopec Cigarettes cards.
That photo in the above post is actually a part of a cool sequence.
On February 22, 1913, at Coffroth’s Arena in Daly City, California lightweights Harlem Tommy Murphy and Ad Wolgast squaring off in the featured match. Murphy was awarded the win in the 16th round when Wolgast was disqualified. The top photo depicts the two squaring off as their handlers look on including left to right, is short, stocky Jim Buckley who acted as Murphy’s manager when Murphy was in California. The other photos show Wolgast pinning Murphy against the ropes during the fight. Harlem Tommy Murphy is criminally underrated, he's got one hell of a resume. Murphy was involved in one of the most brutal and bloodiest fights in boxing history with Abe Attell in 1912, damn bloodbath. Ad Wolgast, the reigning lightweight champion of the world, was ringside at that fight between Attell and Murphy and told a reporter, “It was the hardest fight I ever saw, and I didn’t think Abe could stand the punching."
I don't mean to get off track here, but this is a photo of Harlem Tommy Murphy (left) and Abe Attell after their fight in 1912 and you can see they're both just absolutely covered in blood.
This is a photo of Ad Wolgast in a fight pose I ran across recently, you can see Harlem Tommy Murphy (top row, second from the left).
This is a photo of Ad Wolgast visiting the grave of the legendary middleweight "Nonpareil" Jack Dempsey. Wolgast is the one with his foot resting on the edge of the grave, looking down in the bottom photo.
Ad Wolgast sparring.
Another cool trading card I forgot to mention, the 1923 Burstein Isaacs Famous Prize fighters Ad Wolgast. This card was issued in two different variations, with the letters of his name in all capital letters and with a mix of large and small letters, or mix type.
These photos were obviously taken at the same shoot. It's a nice sequence. I always struggle to figure out what order they go in.
Wicked artwork of Ad Wolgast and the photo that was used for the image on the art. I love this kind of stuff, it's fascinating to me.
Let me just drop this off right here because I forgot to post it earlier with the Battling Nelson photos.
Here's the full sequence for that Ad Wolgast photo used for the artwork above.
Another sequence of Ad Wolgast photos from a photo shoot outside.
One thing I want to mention, Ad Wolgast has a 1936 La Salle Hats card but I can't find a decent scan of it. He also is supposed to have a 1938 American Sweets Knockout Bubble Gum card, the rarest boxing card set on this planet, but I've never actually seen the card despite searching for a photo of it.
Edited to add: I just found a good scan of the 1936 La Salle Hats Ad Wolgast card.
This is an image of Ad Wolgast sitting in his corner, waiting to go to war with Battling Nelson.
This photo was taken during the filming of Hogan's Alley (1925), left to right: James J. Jeffries, Ad Wolgast, Ted (Kid) Lewis, Spike Robinson, Monte Blue, Tommy Ryan, Bob Perry, Mexican Joe Rivers & Dan Tobey.
A 1921 photo of a boxing gathering at Vernon, California, at the PCL stadium there. Boxers pictured are Jack Jeffries, Willie Ritchie, Kid McCoy, Jim Jeffries, Tom Sharkey, Jack Root, Billy Papke, Al Kaufman, Tommy Ryan, Charlie Eyton (referee), Ad Wolgast, and Joe Rivers.
These photos are from the fight when Ad Wolgast lost the world lightweight title to Willie Ritchie on November 28th, 1912, at Coffroth's Arena in Daly City, California. Ritchie is an all-time great and Hall of Famer, I've seen brief film of him, phenomenal fighter. Ritchie was awarded the victory in the 16th round by disqualification. Wolgast came out fighting, but in the 16th Ritchie landed a long wild right to the jaw, spinning Wolgast round and nearly sending him down. Braced with one fist on the canvas, Wolgast launched two low blows to Ritchie, and referee Jim Griffen stopped the fight, awarding the victory and the title to Ritchie on a foul.