I can't get enough of the photos of these guys, they were just amazing, fascinating. I've had the pleasure of watching the Wolgast-Nelson fight from 1910 on YouTube and it was absolutely brutal, 40-rounds, their ability to dish it out and take it was unreal.
This is a photo that was taken in 1924 at a gathering to honor the former heavyweight champion James J. Jeffries. Front row, left to right: Tommy Ryan, Ad Wolgast, James J. Jeffries, Billy Papke, Al McCoy. Back row, left to right: Joe Rivers, Charlie Harvey, Ralph DePalma, Dick Donald, Earl Molina, Billy Wells, Tom Jones, Leach Cross, Jack Jeffries, and DeWitt Van Court.
This is from a private collector of Ad Wolgast items, this is Ad Wolgast's wallet and handkerchief. At one time, Wolgast was the richest athlete in the country.
Two epic photos, from left to right: Freddie Welsh, Frankie Conley, "One Round" Hogan, Ad Wolgast, Johnny Coulon, Abe Attell, Harlem Tommy Murphy, Johnny Kilbane, Tommy Kilbane, Joe Rivers.
A few more photos and I'll wrap it up with Wolgast. It's hard to let go once I get started, these guys were gladiators, warriors, they made there name in blood, sweat, tears, and more blood. Many of them gave their lives or died younger than they should have for this sport and they deserve to be honored.
"The Michigan Wildcat" Ad Wolgast violently seized the lightweight championship with an unbelievable 40th round TKO of Battling Nelson at the Arena in Point Richmond, California on February 22nd in 1910.
Wolgast and Nelson are known by now for their three-fight series and subsequent years-long grudge against one another, it was the 40-round war between them that echoes through the ages. The two had fought once before this, with the bout ending in a somewhat lackluster newspaper decision for Wolgast. When the two were matched again, mayhem ensued.
The bout was filled with back-and-forth exchanges, huge punches landed by both fighters and incredible toughness. It was scheduled for 45 rounds. Through the first nine or so rounds, Wolgast reportedly boxed somewhat cautiously compared to Nelson, and he appeared to be looking toward his corner for advice.
In round 22, Nelson hurt Wolgast early before dropping him with a right hand. But Wolgast fought out of it and seemed to shake out any remaining jitters from that point, and both fighters went to their respective corners tired.
After the 25th round, Nelson sat in his corner with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. From that point on, the fight belonged to Wolgast, thought he still had plenty of work before him. Nelson absorbed a terrible amount of punches and was saved by the bell in the last few rounds. Finally in the 40th, Nelson was so dead-armed and weary that he was stopped while still game to attack.
More than 100 years after it took place, Wolgast-Nelson II is still considered one of the most vicious fights of all time.
100 years ago, Milwaukee boxer Wolgast won title
Though born in Michigan, Adolph Wolgast moved to Milwaukee in 1907 and became one of the city's more famous boxers -- a gritty lightweight who won a championship over Battling Nelson.
Milwaukee boxer Ad Wolgast was so sure of his own indestructibility in the ring that he once offered to let an opponent put horseshoes in his gloves, and then bet the guy $2,500 that he still couldn't knock him out.
The opponent was Battling Nelson, and exactly 100 years ago today their fight for the lightweight (then 133 pounds, today 135) championship of the world made most fights since then look like a "pink tea," which was Wolgast's favorite derogatory term for anything less than the all-out, hell-for-leather combat he waged in the ring.
Wolgast was still technically alive when the sport that made him famous became known, sometime in the early 1950s, as the "Sweet Science," and if he'd had any functioning brain matter left that designation would have disgusted the man who won the title from Nelson on Feb. 22, 1910, when the referee stopped their fight in the 40th round. (It was scheduled for 45 rounds; championship fights last 12.)
Adolph Wolgast was born Feb. 8, 1888, in Cadillac, Mich. He arrived in Milwaukee in 1907, and headquartered at Paddy Dorrell's beanery on North 5th Street near Wells, which had a boxing gym in back.
Nelson, born in Denmark but raised in northern Illinois, had gotten his own start at Dorrell's a few years earlier. Although officially prohibited by state statute in the early 20th century, boxing was big here thanks in large part to Mayor David Rose, who once replied to Gov. Robert A. LaFollette's threat to dispatch the militia to Milwaukee if Rose didn't stop allowing prize-fighting in the city: "You had better send enough militia and deputies to fight the entire police force of Milwaukee. I am running this town and I am going to permit boxing."
In addition to their Milwaukee connection, Wolgast and Nelson shared a sneering disdain for the notion that boxing was the manly art of self-defense. Their strategy was to let the other guys wear themselves out punching them, and then go to town.
They were so much alike, in fact, that they hated each other's guts. When they stepped into the ring at Point Richmond, Calif., for the championship fight that was as huge in its time as a Super Bowl is today, their first order of business was to agree to toss the Marquis of Queensbury rulebook that governed behavior in the ring into nearby San Francisco Bay. For the next two hours they punched, butted, mauled and even bit one-another without letting up.
Milwaukee native Teddy Murphy, Nelson's friend and one-time manager, was there. "From the start, Ad and Bat stopped everything that came their way," he recalled a couple decades later. "Round after round, they kept up this double-barreled massacre, and the honors were fairly even."
In the 23rd round, Nelson -- the defending champion -- knocked Wolgast down. But Wolgast didn't stay down, and from there on out the only thing Nelson had going for him was his freakish stamina and ability to eat leather like he couldn't get enough of it.
Another on-site witness was Richard S. Davis, later a prize-winning reporter for The Milwaukee Journal. "Nelson took punch after punch in the face and ribs until he looked like a great chunk of round steak down as far as the belt," Davis wrote 43 years after the fact.
By the 39th round, Davis said, whenever a Wolgast punch landed on Nelson's gory face "it was almost like a child pushing his fists into a moist mud pie."
The slaughter was finally stopped in the next round, and two weeks later more than 1,000 cheering fans greeted the new champion when Wolgast stepped off the train at Milwaukee's Union depot. "Gee, it feels good to be back home," said the "hero of the town."
Wolgast lost his title to California's Willie Ritchie in 1912. They fought again here on March 12, 1914, selling out the then-Auditorium (now the Milwaukee Theater) and taking in a gate of $39,755 -- a world record at the time. No official decision was allowed, but most newspaper reporters said Ritchie won. Wolgast bitterly protested on the grounds that he was too great a fighter to lose to somebody named Willie.
That same year, a newspaper story took inventory of the physical toll boxing had taken on Wolgast. The damages included two cauliflower ears, multiple broken arms, hands and ribs, and a nose so flattened by punches that Wolgast had it injected with paraffin and reshaped. (When a pimple cropped up on the rebuilt schnozz, though, "he squeezed it (and) kept on squeezing it," until "all the paraffin had leaked out through that pimple.")
But retirement wasn't for Wolgast. "You just can't quit, that's all," he said in 1916. "They say a criminal is drawn back irresistibly to the scene of his crime. Well, so is a fighter drawn back to the old rings, to the old crowd, and the old excitement. Why not let the ex-champs have their little pipe dreams?"
On Feb. 28, 1917, the Milwaukee boy came home again. This time, no crowds turned out to greet Wolgast, who was taken by then-heavyweight champion Jess Willard to Sacred Heart Sanitarium, "broken in health and ailing mentally," according to The Journal. For 14 months, Wolgast was confined to an asylum as mentally incompetent. The diagnosis was that the fellow who prided himself on his invincibility was, to use the term popular then, slug-nutty. Today it's called pugilistic dementia.
The day after Wolgast was released, he announced that he intended to make a boxing comeback. He did have a few inconsequential fights (and a "goat gland operation" that worked as well as that paraffin), and in 1923 Wolgast was committed to the first in a series of California institutions he would occupy for the rest of his life.
When he died on April 14, 1955, the fighter known in deference to the state of his birth as the Michigan Wildcat had spent more than half of his 67 years in captivity.
Until he was too old, blind and weak, the pathetic little warhorse always trained diligently in makeshift gyms set up for him at the asylums, because in what was left of Wolgast's mind he was still the toughest lightweight in the world, ready to take on all comers.
I posted this photo earlier in the thread, but it's one of my favorite images of Wolgast, about to play a game of 8-ball with a cigarette in his mouth and a smirk on his face. It's just a great photo.
Ad Wolgast on the cover of The National Police Gazette in 1910. The National Police Gazette is a legendary publication, it was first published in 1845 in New York. It was a highly influential, sensationalist weekly publication that covered crime, sports, scandals, and celebrities, running continuously for 132 years until 1977. It served as a forerunner to modern tabloid journalism, men's lifestyle magazines, and, in its early years, even featured police reports on criminals. Boxing historians rely heavily on The National Police Gazette for fight reports from the early days of the sport, not a lot of fights were filmed back then and fight reports are really the only way to get a good idea on how a fighter handled himself in the ring.
Of all the photos I've seen of Ad Wolgast, this is my number 1 favorite, it's really self explanatory as to why it's my favorite, just look at him. He looks like a gunslinger standing in front of a saloon at high noon, ready to go.
Final thoughts on Ad Wolgast, he was aggressive, vicious, had little interest in defense, was seemingly impervious to punishment, would walk through punches to hunt his opponent down. What's not to like about him? He was hell on wheels.
Cool stuff here, this is the photo that was used for the image of Ken Buchanan on the cover of his autobiography, "Buchanan: High Life and Hard Times. I actually own this photo, love this image of Buchanan with the black eye.
Long before cinematic cutscenes were the norm, Ninja Gaiden blew players away with movie-like storytelling on the NES. Ryu Hayabusa’s quest for revenge and survival was more than just action—it was a full narrative experience packed into an 8-bit cartridge.
Cinematic Storytelling: The game pioneered the use of cutscenes between levels, complete with dramatic dialogue and close-ups. For many players, it was the first time a video game felt like a movie.
Relentless Difficulty: With fast enemies, tricky platforming, and respawning foes, Ninja Gaiden became notorious for its punishing challenge. Few NES games tested reflexes and patience like this one.
Ninjutsu Power-Ups: Ryu could find special abilities like fire wheels and throwing stars, giving players strategic options. Choosing the right power-up often meant the difference between victory and defeat.
Memorable Bosses: From giant beasts to menacing sorcerers, every boss battle pushed players to master attack patterns and stay sharp under pressure. The final fight against Jaquio remains legendary.
Ninja Gaiden didn’t just raise the bar for NES action games—it set the standard for how intense, cinematic, and unforgettable an 8-bit adventure could be. Decades later, players still remember the thrill (and the pain) of mastering Ryu’s journey.
Ken Overlin: The Fighter Who Danced Through History's Toughest Era
In the depths of the Great Depression, a young Irish-American named Ken Overlin rose from a struggling bellhop to one of the toughest middleweights in boxing history. Born on August 15, 1910, in Decatur, Illinois, Overlin's story was one of grit, glory, and undeniable tragedy, a tale as gripping as any Hollywood screenplay.
The Early Years: A Sailor Discovers His Strength
Overlin grew up as a natural athlete, excelling in basketball and football while juggling odd jobs to support his family. But his real turning point came in 1927, when he enlisted in the Navy. There, aboard the USS Tennessee, Overlin discovered boxing—a sport that became his calling. By the time he left the Navy in 1932, he was ready to conquer the professional ring.
A Career Forged in Fire
Managed by the legendary Chris Dundee, Overlin debuted as a middleweight in an era brimming with talent. His crowning moment came on May 23, 1940, when he clinched the NYSAC Middleweight Title by defeating Cipriano Garcia in his 123rd fight. He defended the title twice before losing it in June 1941 to Billy Soose.
With 165 fights under his belt, Overlin retired in 1944 with an impressive record:
134 wins
19 losses
10 draws
Overlin wasn’t a knockout artist—his style relied on speed and relentless combinations, earning him the nickname “Poor Man’s Harry Greb.” Despite his modest power (only 24 knockouts), his iron chin was legendary; he was stopped only twice in his entire career.
Battling Legends
Overlin faced some of the best fighters of his time, holding his own against icons like:
Freddie Steele (loss)
Ceferino Garcia (win)
Fred Apostoli (win, draw)
Ezzard Charles (win, draw)
Steve Belloise (two wins)
Boxing historian Gerry Harper remarked, “Look at the numbers!” Overlin’s career was a testament to his resilience, earning him respect from peers like Belloise, who called him the “best boxer I ever faced.”
The Fall After Glory
Despite his triumphs in the ring, Overlin’s personal life was marked by turmoil. After retiring, he returned to Decatur to open a bar, but trouble seemed to follow him. A string of bar brawls, legal issues, and problems with local authorities forced him to sell his business and move across the country, managing bars in Illinois, California, and Nevada.
In 1962, a violent altercation left him severely injured. Never fully recovering, Overlin's health deteriorated, and on July 24, 1969, he was found dead in his Reno apartment, alone and unnoticed for days.
The Legacy of Ken Overlin
Overlin’s life was a paradox—a fearless warrior in the ring who succumbed to life’s challenges outside it. Despite the struggles, his contributions to boxing earned him a spot in the International Boxing Hall of Fame, cementing his legacy as one of the sport’s enduring figures.
Ken Overlin’s story reminds us of the price some pay for greatness, both in victory and defeat. His name lives on as a symbol of courage, skill, and the relentless pursuit of glory.
The Great Middleweight Champion That Time and The Fans Forgot
By: John Hively
In 1940, world middleweight title claimant Ken Overlin soared above his contemporaries like a majestic bald eagle circling high above his potential prey scattered about in the fields and streams far below; and then like a poachers gun blast tragically bringing an end to the spectacular flight of the great bird of prey, a cataclysmic event cut short the career of the great champion while he was at the zenith of his abilities.
When it comes to Overlin, perhaps the important questions for fight fans less than seventy years of age are, “You sure he was a champion?” “How come I never heard of him?” “How great could he be if I never heard of him?”
The answer to these questions is that Overlin was one hell of a fighter, and yes, he was the holder of a title.
Ken was born in 1910 in Decatur, Illinois. His parents were pure Irish. During the late 1920s, the young man joined the U.S. navy and was stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. It was there that Chris Dundee, the older brother of Angelo, discovered that the Irishman could fight using his brawn and his mitts, as well as his head. Under Dundee’s management, the future middleweight champion launched his professional boxing career in 1932, the year after Mickey Walker had abdicated the middleweight throne.
Overlin developed into a great boxer in an era of great middleweights. During the years 1937-44, several future Hall of Fame pugilists vied for supremacy in the division: Fred Apostoli, Jimmy Bivins, Charley Burley, Ezzard Charles, Billy Conn, Jake La Motta, Archie Moore, Tony Zale and Freddie Steele. Holman Williams, rated in the Ring Magazine’s top thirty middleweight’s of all time, also fought in the division during these years.
Outstanding boxers such as Lou Brouillard, Lloyd Marshall, Erich Seelig, Ben Brown, Cerferino Garcia, Georgie Abrams, Kid Tunero, Louis Kid Cocoa, Billy Soose and Teddy Yarosz confirmed in the squared circle that they too were as talented as any of their Hall of Fame contemporaries. And so too did Ken Overlin.
In 1938, Meyer Ackerman of the Ring magazine described Overlin’s style as “slapping and cuffing,” with lots of “ring generalship.” A New York Times reporter likened his style to Harry Greb, the great whirlwind of the previous decade, except that Overlin lacked Greb’s stamina. But Ken’s skills were much more than what we can envision from these simple descriptions. The son of Ireland was an excellent boxer when he wanted to be, knew how to use the ring, had a highly educated jab, and he was excessively crafty.
With only twenty-three knockouts in 143 bouts, he didn’t possess a whole lot of sleep inducing dynamite in either of his gloves, and so maybe he found it necessary to box rather than fight. But when he felt like it, he could and did fight aggressively. Despite the lack of heavy artillery in either of his fists, during his career Overlin won 127 fights, lost only thirteen, battled to seven draws, and fought one no contest. Ken reached his peak from 1939 to 1942. The son of Ireland lost only three of fifty-one battles during these years, and two of them were shameful robberies.
The abdication of Walker as king of the middleweights left the division’s top spot splintered for ten long years. William “Gorilla” Jones won the National Boxing Association (NBA) version of the title in 1931. Meanwhile, Ben Jeby earned recognition as champion from the influential New York State Boxing Commission in 1932. From 1932 to 1941, the two titles were tossed about amongst Jones, Jeby, Dundee, Yarosz, Steele, Apostoli, Overlin, Soose, Zale, Marcel Thil, Babe Risko, Cerferino Garcia, Al Hostak and Solly Kreiger.
As the titles changed hands, Overlin learned the ins and outs of his craft. In 1932, Overlin won nine of ten bouts. His only loss was to the highly talented and far more experienced Vince Dundee, who went on to win a portion of the title the following year. He defeated twenty-six straight opponents from 1933 to 1934. Contender Paul Pirrone ended the streak with a ten round decision in Philedelphia. Three months later, the Irishman turned the tables on his adversary with a decision win, establishing himself as a bona fide contender. After a loss to dangerous Jimmy Smith, Overlin pieced together thirty-one consecutive wins. Included among his victims were experienced boxers such as Joe Smallwood, Carmen Barth and Ralph Chong. Former champion Teddy Yarosz broke the new streak in ten closely contested rounds. Afterwards, Overlin rebounded to trounce Ben Brown in ten rounds, but then Kid Tunero handed him a ten round decision loss.
In January 1937, in New York City, the Irishman battled another young contender, Fred Apostoli, a future member of the Hall of Fame who entered the clash with a record of twenty wins and one defeat. Overlin carried the early rounds, but then Fred mounted a furious comeback and seemingly tightened the score. However, two judges scored it eight rounds for Ken and two for Fred, while the referee called it even. A New York Times correspondent scored it five rounds for Apostoli, four for Overlin, with one drawn. Some spectators in the crowd booed the decision, but Meyer Ackerman later wrote that Overlin had won a “sensational decision,” and that he had “displayed potential championship caliber.”
After two more wins, Ken was rewarded for his efforts with a shot at Freddie Steele, then recognized by the state of New York and the NBA as the world champion. The title was still divided because Marcel Thil was acknowledged in Europe as being the world champion.
In July 1936, the sensational Steele had claimed the middleweight championships by beating Babe Risko. He defended the title three times before meeting Overlin, scoring wins against Risko W 15, Gorilla Jones W 15, and Frankie Battaglia KO 3. Among others, the new champ also scored non-title wins against future light heavyweight champion Gus Lesnevich KO 2, as well as Overlin’s old nemesis Paul Pirrone KO 1. Possessing bone crunching punching power, good boxing abilities, and some ring savvy, Steele was in his prime.
For the first three rounds, Overlin aggressively attacked the champion, and it was difficult to determine who had the edge. Unfortunately, ten seconds into the fourth round, Steele landed a left hook, and it was lights out for the Irishman. Overlin attributed the loss to an undisclosed illness with which he had entered the ring. Whether true or not, it was the only time he was ever stopped.
For the next several months, the son of Ireland failed to display his previous fighting qualities. He won some, he lost some. He gave a lackadaisical effort in losing a boring bout to fellow contender, Walter Woods. Watching the tedious exhibition, Eddie Borden of the Ring wrote, “There was evidently something wrong with Overlin as he displayed very little in the way of fighting ability.” Perhaps he was still ill, or maybe he just hadn’t mentally gotten over the loss to Steele. Maybe he was depressed. Who knows? He proceeded to lose decisions to Fred Hennebury in Sydney and to Lloyd Marshall in San Francisco. Ken then twice won verdicts over Nat Bolden before losing close battles against contender Erich Seelig and former champion Teddy Yarosz. Win or lose, the Irishman had ducked nobody, and learned his craft the old fashioned way, by taking on the best.
After the loss to Yarosz, Ken went undefeated through his next twenty-two fights. He reversed the decision against Seelig, and twice drew with, and handed a defeat to, Ben Brown. And on May 23, 1940, the plucky Irishman captured the New York version of the World Middleweight title in a hard fought struggle waged against champion Ceferino Garcia.
Garcia, an underrated and unappreciated boxer had moved up to middleweight after losing a decision to Henry Armstrong for the welterweight championship. At the higher weight, Garcia scored victories over the much feared Lloyd Marshall (W 10, KO 5), as well as contender Walter Woods (KO 4) and tough Bobby Pacho (W 10, KO 5). After taking the partial title from Fred Apostoli via KO in 7, Garcia had defended it twice against Glenn Lee (KO 13) and Armstrong (D 15).
Overlin was an active champion. After the Garcia victory, he scored three straight non-title wins over solid opposition before losing a controversial decision to Billy Soose. Most observers thought Overlin won the fight by a clear margin. The Associated Press scored the fight in favor of the Irishman, and Nat Fleisher, founder of the Ring magazine, described it as a bad decision.
After three more non-title wins, including one over rival Brown, the Irishman successfully defended his championship by winning a close decision over contender Steve Belloise on November 1, 1940. The fight was close enough to warrant a rematch the following month, only this time Ken gave his rival a lesson on the finer points of boxing in winning the decision by a wide margin.
On May 9 1941, Billy Soose took the middleweight title from Overlin when he received one of the worst decisions ever rendered in a middleweight title fight. Nat Fleischer reported in the Ring, “In the first five rounds, with one exception, Ken made Soose appear like a raw novice.” Overlin fought on the retreat, stinging Billy with jabs and hooks almost at will. Soose had his moments beginning in round six, but there just weren’t enough of them for him to deserve the decision. According to Fleischer, “Billy missed often, covered his face like one fearing to get marked up, and at times doubled his body half way to the ground to avoid Ken’s stinging jabs.”
The New York Times reporter, Joseph G. Nichols, was even more scathing in his criticism of the judge’s verdict. He wrote, “For eleven of the fifteen sessions, the 31-one-year-old Overlin held an edge over his twenty-three-year-old rival from Farrell, Pa., and in several of these rounds Overlin’s margin was so great that he might have been in the ring all by himself so little was the damage he suffered at the hands of his foeman.”
Both Fleischer and Nichols were impressed by Ken’s cleverness. The latter reported, “Ken knew all the tricks, and he brought them into play. At times he had Soose looking more puzzled than a retarded high school freshman writing a thesis on the quantum theory.”
According to Fleischer, 90 percent of the fans and twenty-eight of thirty-one reporters were of the opinion that Overlin earned the decision.
When the verdict was announced, the crowd stood stunned at first, and then began to demonstrate their dissatisfaction with the robbery they had just witnessed with one loud, prolonged “boo” that lasted several minutes. Cries of “robbery” could be heard among the crowd.
The referee and judges argued that Soose deserved the verdict because he had been the aggressor while the champion had fought on the retreat, and Ken, they claimed, had been guilty of excessive holding. Fleischer objected to this rationale, “When a fighter can deliver with effectiveness the large number of punches Overlin landed during the 15 rounds, then it is ample proof that his method of procedure constitutes cleverness. Ken’s potent fists kept up the interest in the fight. Had he not landed as frequently as he did, despite his back movements, there would have been little to enthuse over.”
One month later, the now ex-champion returned to the fistic wars in Cincinnati, Ohio, the hometown of his next opponent—Ezzard Charles. According to the 1980 Ring Record Book, Charles was unbeaten in twenty fights with fourteen knockouts. The Cincinnati fistic whiz is often rated as the number one light heavyweight of all time, and rightfully so. His list of light-heavyweight victims eventually included Joey Maxim, Archie Moore, Lloyd Marshall and Jimmy Bivens, among many others. In 1948, Ezzard weighed all of 175 pounds when he invaded the heavyweight division and stopped contenders Elmer Ray (193 lbs) and Joe Baksi (220 lbs). Back in those days, fighters didn’t need steroids to grow muscles to be great.
Perhaps Overlin wasn’t in the best of moods following the Soose fight; maybe the Irishman was still livid about the judge’s rationale that he hadn’t been aggressive enough. Against Charles, he left no room for doubt. According to the Associated Press, the fight was close for the first five rounds, but then Overlin took over, staggered Charles repeatedly throughout the final five heats, and cruised to a unanimous decision.
Ken won six more fights through the remainder of 1941, including a ten round decision over former champion, Al Hostak. Meanwhile, Charles won four more battles, including an impressive third round stoppage over former light heavyweight champion Anton Christoforidis and a decision over Teddy Yarosz.
On March 2 1942, in a rematch in his hometown of Cincinnati, the best Charles could do against the clever Irishman was battle to a ten round draw. Within nine months after their final encounter, Charles lopsidedly defeated Charley Burley twice (rated number six middleweight of all-time by the Ring magazine), Joey Maxim twice (rated among the top twenty light heavyweights of all time by the Ring), as well as contenders Jose Basora and Booker Beckwith. In two tries in his home town, Charles had failed to even sneak by Overlin.
With the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7 1941, the United States entered World War II. The son of Ireland decided to enter the more important war being waged, stepped up to the plate, and rejoined the navy immediately after the sneak attack. In June 1942, he battled his old rival Fred Apostoli to a ten round draw, and then dedicated himself for the next two years to defending his country. The Irishman returned to fistic action in 1944, won four more bouts, and then left the sport for good.
In Reno Nevada, the former champion died on July 24, 1969. Obituaries carried short stories about his career, and then as more years passed by, as fight fans who had once cheered him slowly passed away, the great former champion faded from historical memory. He became a footnote. Who pinned the first loss on Ezzard Charles? But he really deserves far more than being just a footnote. How good was Ken Overlin?
During an era of great middleweights, the son of Ireland was a standout performer. Think of it this way; not a single victim of recently disposed middleweight king Bernard Hopkins will ever likely be inducted into the Boxing Hall of Fame for any of their achievements at middleweight or heavier. Nor are any of his victims likely to be rated among the top thirty, and perhaps even the top 100, middleweights or light heavyweights, of all time. Yet, Hopkins is considered to be one of the greatest middleweights ever, and is considered to have a lock on the Hall of Fame.
By contrast, in his last fifty-five bouts, the Irishman lost only thrice, and two of those were shameful robberies, and he achieved all of this against several fighters rated higher than any of Hopkins victims. Overlin defeated Hall of Fame fighters, and he scored a decisive win over, and drew with, the man usually considered to be the finest light heavyweight of all time. The Irishman ducked no one—black or white.
Ken Overlin won recognition as the World middleweight champion by the New York State Athletic Commission on May 23, 1940, when he won a unanimous decision over Ceferino Garcia before a light crowd of 7,587 at Madison Square Garden. Overlin's fast, sweeping left hook to the body tied up Garcia's dangerous right.
Credit: New York Times
"Garcia was a disappointment to his fans. Expected to blast his foe to the ground with his famed right hand punch, the defending champion instead allowed the challenger to dictate the procedure of warfare, then his foe proceeded to outpoint him at every turn."
Nice image of Ken Overlin catching Garcia with a right hand on that bottom photo.
Ken Overlin (left) and Billy Soose fought twice, the first time in 1940 and the second time in 1941, Soose won both bouts but the second one was an apparent robbery, many feeling Overlin did more than enough to win. Two great fighters. Soose's career is interesting, he was so dominate in college that they had to change the rules because of him, he started off his career as a murderous puncher but had to change to a boxer after injuring his hand. Here's a good write-up on Soose:
Credit: Tom Donelson
"Soose is one of the most interesting fighters in boxing history. As an amateur and collegiate fighter, Soose forte was power. As a college fighter, he was so good that NCAA outlawed golden glove champions from competing and this legislature was directed at Soose. Soose knocked out every collegiate fighter he competed against and many college teams refuse to compete against him. Soose continued his winning ways in the amateur and when he turned pro, Soose’s right hand would be his ticket to fame. Early in his career, Soose fought Al Quail and in the process of beating Quail, he split the tendon on his middle knuckle. From this point, Soose lost the power to punish his opponent and switched from slugger to boxer. As I wrote last year, “ Rarely can a fighter change style in the midst of a career but the greatness of Soose showed adoptability rare in boxer. Could you imagine George Foreman having to turn himself into a boxer? Or Joe Frazier? You understand the magnitude of what Soose accomplished.”
On May 9, 1941 at Madison Square Garden in New York world middleweight champion Ken Overlin defended his title against Billy Soose. Soose won a unanimous 15 round decision and the title. Although the decision was unanimous, "it was a mystifying one, mysteriously arrived at, and so unexpected that it left the onlookers stunned for several minutes. For 11 of the 15 sessions Overlin held an edge over his rival and in several the margin was so great he may as well have been in the ring by himself so little was the damage he suffered at the hands of his foeman. Ken knew all the tricks, and he brought them into play. At times he had Soose looking more puzzled than a retarded high school freshman writing a thesis on the quantum theory... In Soose's favor it must be said he forced the going... In the matter of holding, too, Overlin was often at fault, and it might have been this inclination to cling to his rival in the hope of weathering stormy passages that influenced the arbiters in their decision." Great photos from the fight.
An on-site fight poster from Ken Overlin-Steve Belloise on November 1st, 1940 at Madison Square Garden. They fought twice with Overlin winning both bouts by decision. Belloise later said Overlin was the best boxer he faced in his career.
Wicked image of Ken Overlin catching Harry Balsamo with a brutal right hand in 1940 at Queensboro Arena. Overlin won the bout when he knocked Balsamo out in the 9th.
Here are some photos of Ken Overlin with his wife Sylvia. I like getting photos of the fighters with their loved ones on here, there's just something about it that warms the heart.
Comments
Ad Wolgast and Willie Ritchie in a newspaper.
Ad Wolgast and Freddie Welsh, they fought three times.
Great shot of Ad Wolgast and Freddie Welsh together.
Ad Wolgast pictured sitting in the center, surrounded by his family, including his siblings and parents.
Good photo of Ad Wolgast.
Not sure who Ad Wolgast is with in this photo, looks like some of his family members.
Ad Wolgast pictured with his wife Mildred at their farm in Cadillac, Michigan.
The actual gloves that Ad Wolgast wore when he won the world lightweight title against Battling Nelson in 1910.
I can't get enough of the photos of these guys, they were just amazing, fascinating. I've had the pleasure of watching the Wolgast-Nelson fight from 1910 on YouTube and it was absolutely brutal, 40-rounds, their ability to dish it out and take it was unreal.
Wolgast with his dogs.
This is a photo that was taken in 1924 at a gathering to honor the former heavyweight champion James J. Jeffries. Front row, left to right: Tommy Ryan, Ad Wolgast, James J. Jeffries, Billy Papke, Al McCoy. Back row, left to right: Joe Rivers, Charlie Harvey, Ralph DePalma, Dick Donald, Earl Molina, Billy Wells, Tom Jones, Leach Cross, Jack Jeffries, and DeWitt Van Court.
Ad Wolgast's manager Tom Jones.
Ad Wolgast pictured here with Mexican Joe Rivers and I'm not sure who the other man is, it appears to say Kid Tanner? Anyway, cool photo.
This is from a private collector of Ad Wolgast items, this is Ad Wolgast's wallet and handkerchief. At one time, Wolgast was the richest athlete in the country.
Two epic photos, from left to right: Freddie Welsh, Frankie Conley, "One Round" Hogan, Ad Wolgast, Johnny Coulon, Abe Attell, Harlem Tommy Murphy, Johnny Kilbane, Tommy Kilbane, Joe Rivers.
Ad Wolgast and the man he walked through hell with, Battling Nelson, shaking hands.
A few more photos and I'll wrap it up with Wolgast. It's hard to let go once I get started, these guys were gladiators, warriors, they made there name in blood, sweat, tears, and more blood. Many of them gave their lives or died younger than they should have for this sport and they deserve to be honored.
This is the one of the last photos of Ad Wolgast taken after he was diagnosed as being mentally ill from the damage the sport inflicted on him.
Ad Wolgast in his prime in 1910.
A shot from the Wolgast-Nelson fight in 1910.
This photo is worth one more look.
"The Michigan Wildcat" Ad Wolgast violently seized the lightweight championship with an unbelievable 40th round TKO of Battling Nelson at the Arena in Point Richmond, California on February 22nd in 1910.
Wolgast and Nelson are known by now for their three-fight series and subsequent years-long grudge against one another, it was the 40-round war between them that echoes through the ages. The two had fought once before this, with the bout ending in a somewhat lackluster newspaper decision for Wolgast. When the two were matched again, mayhem ensued.
The bout was filled with back-and-forth exchanges, huge punches landed by both fighters and incredible toughness. It was scheduled for 45 rounds. Through the first nine or so rounds, Wolgast reportedly boxed somewhat cautiously compared to Nelson, and he appeared to be looking toward his corner for advice.
In round 22, Nelson hurt Wolgast early before dropping him with a right hand. But Wolgast fought out of it and seemed to shake out any remaining jitters from that point, and both fighters went to their respective corners tired.
After the 25th round, Nelson sat in his corner with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. From that point on, the fight belonged to Wolgast, thought he still had plenty of work before him. Nelson absorbed a terrible amount of punches and was saved by the bell in the last few rounds. Finally in the 40th, Nelson was so dead-armed and weary that he was stopped while still game to attack.
More than 100 years after it took place, Wolgast-Nelson II is still considered one of the most vicious fights of all time.
100 years ago, Milwaukee boxer Wolgast won title
Though born in Michigan, Adolph Wolgast moved to Milwaukee in 1907 and became one of the city's more famous boxers -- a gritty lightweight who won a championship over Battling Nelson.
Milwaukee boxer Ad Wolgast was so sure of his own indestructibility in the ring that he once offered to let an opponent put horseshoes in his gloves, and then bet the guy $2,500 that he still couldn't knock him out.
The opponent was Battling Nelson, and exactly 100 years ago today their fight for the lightweight (then 133 pounds, today 135) championship of the world made most fights since then look like a "pink tea," which was Wolgast's favorite derogatory term for anything less than the all-out, hell-for-leather combat he waged in the ring.
Wolgast was still technically alive when the sport that made him famous became known, sometime in the early 1950s, as the "Sweet Science," and if he'd had any functioning brain matter left that designation would have disgusted the man who won the title from Nelson on Feb. 22, 1910, when the referee stopped their fight in the 40th round. (It was scheduled for 45 rounds; championship fights last 12.)
Adolph Wolgast was born Feb. 8, 1888, in Cadillac, Mich. He arrived in Milwaukee in 1907, and headquartered at Paddy Dorrell's beanery on North 5th Street near Wells, which had a boxing gym in back.
Nelson, born in Denmark but raised in northern Illinois, had gotten his own start at Dorrell's a few years earlier. Although officially prohibited by state statute in the early 20th century, boxing was big here thanks in large part to Mayor David Rose, who once replied to Gov. Robert A. LaFollette's threat to dispatch the militia to Milwaukee if Rose didn't stop allowing prize-fighting in the city: "You had better send enough militia and deputies to fight the entire police force of Milwaukee. I am running this town and I am going to permit boxing."
In addition to their Milwaukee connection, Wolgast and Nelson shared a sneering disdain for the notion that boxing was the manly art of self-defense. Their strategy was to let the other guys wear themselves out punching them, and then go to town.
They were so much alike, in fact, that they hated each other's guts. When they stepped into the ring at Point Richmond, Calif., for the championship fight that was as huge in its time as a Super Bowl is today, their first order of business was to agree to toss the Marquis of Queensbury rulebook that governed behavior in the ring into nearby San Francisco Bay. For the next two hours they punched, butted, mauled and even bit one-another without letting up.
Milwaukee native Teddy Murphy, Nelson's friend and one-time manager, was there. "From the start, Ad and Bat stopped everything that came their way," he recalled a couple decades later. "Round after round, they kept up this double-barreled massacre, and the honors were fairly even."
In the 23rd round, Nelson -- the defending champion -- knocked Wolgast down. But Wolgast didn't stay down, and from there on out the only thing Nelson had going for him was his freakish stamina and ability to eat leather like he couldn't get enough of it.
Another on-site witness was Richard S. Davis, later a prize-winning reporter for The Milwaukee Journal. "Nelson took punch after punch in the face and ribs until he looked like a great chunk of round steak down as far as the belt," Davis wrote 43 years after the fact.
By the 39th round, Davis said, whenever a Wolgast punch landed on Nelson's gory face "it was almost like a child pushing his fists into a moist mud pie."
The slaughter was finally stopped in the next round, and two weeks later more than 1,000 cheering fans greeted the new champion when Wolgast stepped off the train at Milwaukee's Union depot. "Gee, it feels good to be back home," said the "hero of the town."
Wolgast lost his title to California's Willie Ritchie in 1912. They fought again here on March 12, 1914, selling out the then-Auditorium (now the Milwaukee Theater) and taking in a gate of $39,755 -- a world record at the time. No official decision was allowed, but most newspaper reporters said Ritchie won. Wolgast bitterly protested on the grounds that he was too great a fighter to lose to somebody named Willie.
That same year, a newspaper story took inventory of the physical toll boxing had taken on Wolgast. The damages included two cauliflower ears, multiple broken arms, hands and ribs, and a nose so flattened by punches that Wolgast had it injected with paraffin and reshaped. (When a pimple cropped up on the rebuilt schnozz, though, "he squeezed it (and) kept on squeezing it," until "all the paraffin had leaked out through that pimple.")
But retirement wasn't for Wolgast. "You just can't quit, that's all," he said in 1916. "They say a criminal is drawn back irresistibly to the scene of his crime. Well, so is a fighter drawn back to the old rings, to the old crowd, and the old excitement. Why not let the ex-champs have their little pipe dreams?"
On Feb. 28, 1917, the Milwaukee boy came home again. This time, no crowds turned out to greet Wolgast, who was taken by then-heavyweight champion Jess Willard to Sacred Heart Sanitarium, "broken in health and ailing mentally," according to The Journal. For 14 months, Wolgast was confined to an asylum as mentally incompetent. The diagnosis was that the fellow who prided himself on his invincibility was, to use the term popular then, slug-nutty. Today it's called pugilistic dementia.
The day after Wolgast was released, he announced that he intended to make a boxing comeback. He did have a few inconsequential fights (and a "goat gland operation" that worked as well as that paraffin), and in 1923 Wolgast was committed to the first in a series of California institutions he would occupy for the rest of his life.
When he died on April 14, 1955, the fighter known in deference to the state of his birth as the Michigan Wildcat had spent more than half of his 67 years in captivity.
Until he was too old, blind and weak, the pathetic little warhorse always trained diligently in makeshift gyms set up for him at the asylums, because in what was left of Wolgast's mind he was still the toughest lightweight in the world, ready to take on all comers.
Awesome image of Wolgast with his arms folded.
This is cool, there's a film negative of Ad Wolgast for sale on eBay right now and I found the photo it matches up with.
This is another photo of Ad Wolgast after his fighting days and you can really see the toll boxing took on him.
Epic side view of Wolgast.
I posted this photo earlier in the thread, but it's one of my favorite images of Wolgast, about to play a game of 8-ball with a cigarette in his mouth and a smirk on his face. It's just a great photo.
Great shot of Ad Wolgast smiling at the camera.
Ad Wolgast on the cover of The National Police Gazette in 1910. The National Police Gazette is a legendary publication, it was first published in 1845 in New York. It was a highly influential, sensationalist weekly publication that covered crime, sports, scandals, and celebrities, running continuously for 132 years until 1977. It served as a forerunner to modern tabloid journalism, men's lifestyle magazines, and, in its early years, even featured police reports on criminals. Boxing historians rely heavily on The National Police Gazette for fight reports from the early days of the sport, not a lot of fights were filmed back then and fight reports are really the only way to get a good idea on how a fighter handled himself in the ring.
This is another one of my personal favorite photos of Ad Wolgast, sitting in his throne.
These last two photos of Ad Wolgast are my favorites, great image right here, holding up his gloved fists with his robe draped over his shoulders.
Of all the photos I've seen of Ad Wolgast, this is my number 1 favorite, it's really self explanatory as to why it's my favorite, just look at him. He looks like a gunslinger standing in front of a saloon at high noon, ready to go.
Final thoughts on Ad Wolgast, he was aggressive, vicious, had little interest in defense, was seemingly impervious to punishment, would walk through punches to hunt his opponent down. What's not to like about him? He was hell on wheels.
Music break. One of Pac's best songs, he let all of his anger, pain, and trauma out on this track.
Cool stuff here, this is the photo that was used for the image of Ken Buchanan on the cover of his autobiography, "Buchanan: High Life and Hard Times. I actually own this photo, love this image of Buchanan with the black eye.
Classic game.
Did You Know? — Ninja Gaiden (NES, 1989)
Long before cinematic cutscenes were the norm, Ninja Gaiden blew players away with movie-like storytelling on the NES. Ryu Hayabusa’s quest for revenge and survival was more than just action—it was a full narrative experience packed into an 8-bit cartridge.
Cinematic Storytelling: The game pioneered the use of cutscenes between levels, complete with dramatic dialogue and close-ups. For many players, it was the first time a video game felt like a movie.
Relentless Difficulty: With fast enemies, tricky platforming, and respawning foes, Ninja Gaiden became notorious for its punishing challenge. Few NES games tested reflexes and patience like this one.
Ninjutsu Power-Ups: Ryu could find special abilities like fire wheels and throwing stars, giving players strategic options. Choosing the right power-up often meant the difference between victory and defeat.
Memorable Bosses: From giant beasts to menacing sorcerers, every boss battle pushed players to master attack patterns and stay sharp under pressure. The final fight against Jaquio remains legendary.
Ninja Gaiden didn’t just raise the bar for NES action games—it set the standard for how intense, cinematic, and unforgettable an 8-bit adventure could be. Decades later, players still remember the thrill (and the pain) of mastering Ryu’s journey.
Ken Overlin: The Fighter Who Danced Through History's Toughest Era
In the depths of the Great Depression, a young Irish-American named Ken Overlin rose from a struggling bellhop to one of the toughest middleweights in boxing history. Born on August 15, 1910, in Decatur, Illinois, Overlin's story was one of grit, glory, and undeniable tragedy, a tale as gripping as any Hollywood screenplay.
The Early Years: A Sailor Discovers His Strength
Overlin grew up as a natural athlete, excelling in basketball and football while juggling odd jobs to support his family. But his real turning point came in 1927, when he enlisted in the Navy. There, aboard the USS Tennessee, Overlin discovered boxing—a sport that became his calling. By the time he left the Navy in 1932, he was ready to conquer the professional ring.
A Career Forged in Fire
Managed by the legendary Chris Dundee, Overlin debuted as a middleweight in an era brimming with talent. His crowning moment came on May 23, 1940, when he clinched the NYSAC Middleweight Title by defeating Cipriano Garcia in his 123rd fight. He defended the title twice before losing it in June 1941 to Billy Soose.
With 165 fights under his belt, Overlin retired in 1944 with an impressive record:
Overlin wasn’t a knockout artist—his style relied on speed and relentless combinations, earning him the nickname “Poor Man’s Harry Greb.” Despite his modest power (only 24 knockouts), his iron chin was legendary; he was stopped only twice in his entire career.
Battling Legends
Overlin faced some of the best fighters of his time, holding his own against icons like:
Boxing historian Gerry Harper remarked, “Look at the numbers!” Overlin’s career was a testament to his resilience, earning him respect from peers like Belloise, who called him the “best boxer I ever faced.”
The Fall After Glory
Despite his triumphs in the ring, Overlin’s personal life was marked by turmoil. After retiring, he returned to Decatur to open a bar, but trouble seemed to follow him. A string of bar brawls, legal issues, and problems with local authorities forced him to sell his business and move across the country, managing bars in Illinois, California, and Nevada.
In 1962, a violent altercation left him severely injured. Never fully recovering, Overlin's health deteriorated, and on July 24, 1969, he was found dead in his Reno apartment, alone and unnoticed for days.
The Legacy of Ken Overlin
Overlin’s life was a paradox—a fearless warrior in the ring who succumbed to life’s challenges outside it. Despite the struggles, his contributions to boxing earned him a spot in the International Boxing Hall of Fame, cementing his legacy as one of the sport’s enduring figures.
Ken Overlin’s story reminds us of the price some pay for greatness, both in victory and defeat. His name lives on as a symbol of courage, skill, and the relentless pursuit of glory.
The Great Middleweight Champion That Time and The Fans Forgot
By: John Hively
In 1940, world middleweight title claimant Ken Overlin soared above his contemporaries like a majestic bald eagle circling high above his potential prey scattered about in the fields and streams far below; and then like a poachers gun blast tragically bringing an end to the spectacular flight of the great bird of prey, a cataclysmic event cut short the career of the great champion while he was at the zenith of his abilities.
When it comes to Overlin, perhaps the important questions for fight fans less than seventy years of age are, “You sure he was a champion?” “How come I never heard of him?” “How great could he be if I never heard of him?”
The answer to these questions is that Overlin was one hell of a fighter, and yes, he was the holder of a title.
Ken was born in 1910 in Decatur, Illinois. His parents were pure Irish. During the late 1920s, the young man joined the U.S. navy and was stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. It was there that Chris Dundee, the older brother of Angelo, discovered that the Irishman could fight using his brawn and his mitts, as well as his head. Under Dundee’s management, the future middleweight champion launched his professional boxing career in 1932, the year after Mickey Walker had abdicated the middleweight throne.
Overlin developed into a great boxer in an era of great middleweights. During the years 1937-44, several future Hall of Fame pugilists vied for supremacy in the division: Fred Apostoli, Jimmy Bivins, Charley Burley, Ezzard Charles, Billy Conn, Jake La Motta, Archie Moore, Tony Zale and Freddie Steele. Holman Williams, rated in the Ring Magazine’s top thirty middleweight’s of all time, also fought in the division during these years.
Outstanding boxers such as Lou Brouillard, Lloyd Marshall, Erich Seelig, Ben Brown, Cerferino Garcia, Georgie Abrams, Kid Tunero, Louis Kid Cocoa, Billy Soose and Teddy Yarosz confirmed in the squared circle that they too were as talented as any of their Hall of Fame contemporaries. And so too did Ken Overlin.
In 1938, Meyer Ackerman of the Ring magazine described Overlin’s style as “slapping and cuffing,” with lots of “ring generalship.” A New York Times reporter likened his style to Harry Greb, the great whirlwind of the previous decade, except that Overlin lacked Greb’s stamina. But Ken’s skills were much more than what we can envision from these simple descriptions. The son of Ireland was an excellent boxer when he wanted to be, knew how to use the ring, had a highly educated jab, and he was excessively crafty.
With only twenty-three knockouts in 143 bouts, he didn’t possess a whole lot of sleep inducing dynamite in either of his gloves, and so maybe he found it necessary to box rather than fight. But when he felt like it, he could and did fight aggressively. Despite the lack of heavy artillery in either of his fists, during his career Overlin won 127 fights, lost only thirteen, battled to seven draws, and fought one no contest. Ken reached his peak from 1939 to 1942. The son of Ireland lost only three of fifty-one battles during these years, and two of them were shameful robberies.
The abdication of Walker as king of the middleweights left the division’s top spot splintered for ten long years. William “Gorilla” Jones won the National Boxing Association (NBA) version of the title in 1931. Meanwhile, Ben Jeby earned recognition as champion from the influential New York State Boxing Commission in 1932. From 1932 to 1941, the two titles were tossed about amongst Jones, Jeby, Dundee, Yarosz, Steele, Apostoli, Overlin, Soose, Zale, Marcel Thil, Babe Risko, Cerferino Garcia, Al Hostak and Solly Kreiger.
As the titles changed hands, Overlin learned the ins and outs of his craft. In 1932, Overlin won nine of ten bouts. His only loss was to the highly talented and far more experienced Vince Dundee, who went on to win a portion of the title the following year. He defeated twenty-six straight opponents from 1933 to 1934. Contender Paul Pirrone ended the streak with a ten round decision in Philedelphia. Three months later, the Irishman turned the tables on his adversary with a decision win, establishing himself as a bona fide contender. After a loss to dangerous Jimmy Smith, Overlin pieced together thirty-one consecutive wins. Included among his victims were experienced boxers such as Joe Smallwood, Carmen Barth and Ralph Chong. Former champion Teddy Yarosz broke the new streak in ten closely contested rounds. Afterwards, Overlin rebounded to trounce Ben Brown in ten rounds, but then Kid Tunero handed him a ten round decision loss.
In January 1937, in New York City, the Irishman battled another young contender, Fred Apostoli, a future member of the Hall of Fame who entered the clash with a record of twenty wins and one defeat. Overlin carried the early rounds, but then Fred mounted a furious comeback and seemingly tightened the score. However, two judges scored it eight rounds for Ken and two for Fred, while the referee called it even. A New York Times correspondent scored it five rounds for Apostoli, four for Overlin, with one drawn. Some spectators in the crowd booed the decision, but Meyer Ackerman later wrote that Overlin had won a “sensational decision,” and that he had “displayed potential championship caliber.”
After two more wins, Ken was rewarded for his efforts with a shot at Freddie Steele, then recognized by the state of New York and the NBA as the world champion. The title was still divided because Marcel Thil was acknowledged in Europe as being the world champion.
In July 1936, the sensational Steele had claimed the middleweight championships by beating Babe Risko. He defended the title three times before meeting Overlin, scoring wins against Risko W 15, Gorilla Jones W 15, and Frankie Battaglia KO 3. Among others, the new champ also scored non-title wins against future light heavyweight champion Gus Lesnevich KO 2, as well as Overlin’s old nemesis Paul Pirrone KO 1. Possessing bone crunching punching power, good boxing abilities, and some ring savvy, Steele was in his prime.
For the first three rounds, Overlin aggressively attacked the champion, and it was difficult to determine who had the edge. Unfortunately, ten seconds into the fourth round, Steele landed a left hook, and it was lights out for the Irishman. Overlin attributed the loss to an undisclosed illness with which he had entered the ring. Whether true or not, it was the only time he was ever stopped.
For the next several months, the son of Ireland failed to display his previous fighting qualities. He won some, he lost some. He gave a lackadaisical effort in losing a boring bout to fellow contender, Walter Woods. Watching the tedious exhibition, Eddie Borden of the Ring wrote, “There was evidently something wrong with Overlin as he displayed very little in the way of fighting ability.” Perhaps he was still ill, or maybe he just hadn’t mentally gotten over the loss to Steele. Maybe he was depressed. Who knows? He proceeded to lose decisions to Fred Hennebury in Sydney and to Lloyd Marshall in San Francisco. Ken then twice won verdicts over Nat Bolden before losing close battles against contender Erich Seelig and former champion Teddy Yarosz. Win or lose, the Irishman had ducked nobody, and learned his craft the old fashioned way, by taking on the best.
After the loss to Yarosz, Ken went undefeated through his next twenty-two fights. He reversed the decision against Seelig, and twice drew with, and handed a defeat to, Ben Brown. And on May 23, 1940, the plucky Irishman captured the New York version of the World Middleweight title in a hard fought struggle waged against champion Ceferino Garcia.
Garcia, an underrated and unappreciated boxer had moved up to middleweight after losing a decision to Henry Armstrong for the welterweight championship. At the higher weight, Garcia scored victories over the much feared Lloyd Marshall (W 10, KO 5), as well as contender Walter Woods (KO 4) and tough Bobby Pacho (W 10, KO 5). After taking the partial title from Fred Apostoli via KO in 7, Garcia had defended it twice against Glenn Lee (KO 13) and Armstrong (D 15).
Overlin was an active champion. After the Garcia victory, he scored three straight non-title wins over solid opposition before losing a controversial decision to Billy Soose. Most observers thought Overlin won the fight by a clear margin. The Associated Press scored the fight in favor of the Irishman, and Nat Fleisher, founder of the Ring magazine, described it as a bad decision.
After three more non-title wins, including one over rival Brown, the Irishman successfully defended his championship by winning a close decision over contender Steve Belloise on November 1, 1940. The fight was close enough to warrant a rematch the following month, only this time Ken gave his rival a lesson on the finer points of boxing in winning the decision by a wide margin.
On May 9 1941, Billy Soose took the middleweight title from Overlin when he received one of the worst decisions ever rendered in a middleweight title fight. Nat Fleischer reported in the Ring, “In the first five rounds, with one exception, Ken made Soose appear like a raw novice.” Overlin fought on the retreat, stinging Billy with jabs and hooks almost at will. Soose had his moments beginning in round six, but there just weren’t enough of them for him to deserve the decision. According to Fleischer, “Billy missed often, covered his face like one fearing to get marked up, and at times doubled his body half way to the ground to avoid Ken’s stinging jabs.”
The New York Times reporter, Joseph G. Nichols, was even more scathing in his criticism of the judge’s verdict. He wrote, “For eleven of the fifteen sessions, the 31-one-year-old Overlin held an edge over his twenty-three-year-old rival from Farrell, Pa., and in several of these rounds Overlin’s margin was so great that he might have been in the ring all by himself so little was the damage he suffered at the hands of his foeman.”
Both Fleischer and Nichols were impressed by Ken’s cleverness. The latter reported, “Ken knew all the tricks, and he brought them into play. At times he had Soose looking more puzzled than a retarded high school freshman writing a thesis on the quantum theory.”
According to Fleischer, 90 percent of the fans and twenty-eight of thirty-one reporters were of the opinion that Overlin earned the decision.
When the verdict was announced, the crowd stood stunned at first, and then began to demonstrate their dissatisfaction with the robbery they had just witnessed with one loud, prolonged “boo” that lasted several minutes. Cries of “robbery” could be heard among the crowd.
The referee and judges argued that Soose deserved the verdict because he had been the aggressor while the champion had fought on the retreat, and Ken, they claimed, had been guilty of excessive holding. Fleischer objected to this rationale, “When a fighter can deliver with effectiveness the large number of punches Overlin landed during the 15 rounds, then it is ample proof that his method of procedure constitutes cleverness. Ken’s potent fists kept up the interest in the fight. Had he not landed as frequently as he did, despite his back movements, there would have been little to enthuse over.”
One month later, the now ex-champion returned to the fistic wars in Cincinnati, Ohio, the hometown of his next opponent—Ezzard Charles. According to the 1980 Ring Record Book, Charles was unbeaten in twenty fights with fourteen knockouts. The Cincinnati fistic whiz is often rated as the number one light heavyweight of all time, and rightfully so. His list of light-heavyweight victims eventually included Joey Maxim, Archie Moore, Lloyd Marshall and Jimmy Bivens, among many others. In 1948, Ezzard weighed all of 175 pounds when he invaded the heavyweight division and stopped contenders Elmer Ray (193 lbs) and Joe Baksi (220 lbs). Back in those days, fighters didn’t need steroids to grow muscles to be great.
Perhaps Overlin wasn’t in the best of moods following the Soose fight; maybe the Irishman was still livid about the judge’s rationale that he hadn’t been aggressive enough. Against Charles, he left no room for doubt. According to the Associated Press, the fight was close for the first five rounds, but then Overlin took over, staggered Charles repeatedly throughout the final five heats, and cruised to a unanimous decision.
Ken won six more fights through the remainder of 1941, including a ten round decision over former champion, Al Hostak. Meanwhile, Charles won four more battles, including an impressive third round stoppage over former light heavyweight champion Anton Christoforidis and a decision over Teddy Yarosz.
On March 2 1942, in a rematch in his hometown of Cincinnati, the best Charles could do against the clever Irishman was battle to a ten round draw. Within nine months after their final encounter, Charles lopsidedly defeated Charley Burley twice (rated number six middleweight of all-time by the Ring magazine), Joey Maxim twice (rated among the top twenty light heavyweights of all time by the Ring), as well as contenders Jose Basora and Booker Beckwith. In two tries in his home town, Charles had failed to even sneak by Overlin.
With the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7 1941, the United States entered World War II. The son of Ireland decided to enter the more important war being waged, stepped up to the plate, and rejoined the navy immediately after the sneak attack. In June 1942, he battled his old rival Fred Apostoli to a ten round draw, and then dedicated himself for the next two years to defending his country. The Irishman returned to fistic action in 1944, won four more bouts, and then left the sport for good.
In Reno Nevada, the former champion died on July 24, 1969. Obituaries carried short stories about his career, and then as more years passed by, as fight fans who had once cheered him slowly passed away, the great former champion faded from historical memory. He became a footnote. Who pinned the first loss on Ezzard Charles? But he really deserves far more than being just a footnote. How good was Ken Overlin?
During an era of great middleweights, the son of Ireland was a standout performer. Think of it this way; not a single victim of recently disposed middleweight king Bernard Hopkins will ever likely be inducted into the Boxing Hall of Fame for any of their achievements at middleweight or heavier. Nor are any of his victims likely to be rated among the top thirty, and perhaps even the top 100, middleweights or light heavyweights, of all time. Yet, Hopkins is considered to be one of the greatest middleweights ever, and is considered to have a lock on the Hall of Fame.
By contrast, in his last fifty-five bouts, the Irishman lost only thrice, and two of those were shameful robberies, and he achieved all of this against several fighters rated higher than any of Hopkins victims. Overlin defeated Hall of Fame fighters, and he scored a decisive win over, and drew with, the man usually considered to be the finest light heavyweight of all time. The Irishman ducked no one—black or white.
Ken Overlin won recognition as the World middleweight champion by the New York State Athletic Commission on May 23, 1940, when he won a unanimous decision over Ceferino Garcia before a light crowd of 7,587 at Madison Square Garden. Overlin's fast, sweeping left hook to the body tied up Garcia's dangerous right.
Credit: New York Times
"Garcia was a disappointment to his fans. Expected to blast his foe to the ground with his famed right hand punch, the defending champion instead allowed the challenger to dictate the procedure of warfare, then his foe proceeded to outpoint him at every turn."
Nice image of Ken Overlin catching Garcia with a right hand on that bottom photo.
Ken Overlin and Ceferino Garcia on the cover of The Ring magazine in June 1940.
Love this image of Ken Overlin sawing during training before he won the middleweight title from Ceferino Garcia.
Ken Overlin (left) and Billy Soose fought twice, the first time in 1940 and the second time in 1941, Soose won both bouts but the second one was an apparent robbery, many feeling Overlin did more than enough to win. Two great fighters. Soose's career is interesting, he was so dominate in college that they had to change the rules because of him, he started off his career as a murderous puncher but had to change to a boxer after injuring his hand. Here's a good write-up on Soose:
Credit: Tom Donelson
"Soose is one of the most interesting fighters in boxing history. As an amateur and collegiate fighter, Soose forte was power. As a college fighter, he was so good that NCAA outlawed golden glove champions from competing and this legislature was directed at Soose. Soose knocked out every collegiate fighter he competed against and many college teams refuse to compete against him. Soose continued his winning ways in the amateur and when he turned pro, Soose’s right hand would be his ticket to fame. Early in his career, Soose fought Al Quail and in the process of beating Quail, he split the tendon on his middle knuckle. From this point, Soose lost the power to punish his opponent and switched from slugger to boxer. As I wrote last year, “ Rarely can a fighter change style in the midst of a career but the greatness of Soose showed adoptability rare in boxer. Could you imagine George Foreman having to turn himself into a boxer? Or Joe Frazier? You understand the magnitude of what Soose accomplished.”
Ken Overlin (left) and Billy Soose weigh-in before their second bout on May 9th, 1941.
On May 9, 1941 at Madison Square Garden in New York world middleweight champion Ken Overlin defended his title against Billy Soose. Soose won a unanimous 15 round decision and the title. Although the decision was unanimous, "it was a mystifying one, mysteriously arrived at, and so unexpected that it left the onlookers stunned for several minutes. For 11 of the 15 sessions Overlin held an edge over his rival and in several the margin was so great he may as well have been in the ring by himself so little was the damage he suffered at the hands of his foeman. Ken knew all the tricks, and he brought them into play. At times he had Soose looking more puzzled than a retarded high school freshman writing a thesis on the quantum theory... In Soose's favor it must be said he forced the going... In the matter of holding, too, Overlin was often at fault, and it might have been this inclination to cling to his rival in the hope of weathering stormy passages that influenced the arbiters in their decision." Great photos from the fight.
This is an on-site ticket from the first Ken Overlin-Billy Soose fight on July 24th, 1940.
This is an advertising cover from the first Ken Overlin-Billy Soose fight.
An on-site fight poster from Ken Overlin-Steve Belloise on November 1st, 1940 at Madison Square Garden. They fought twice with Overlin winning both bouts by decision. Belloise later said Overlin was the best boxer he faced in his career.
A couple of photos of Ken Overlin and Steve Belloise mixing it up from their first fight.
Ken Overlin is congratulated by his brother Ray Overlin after defeating Steve Belloise for the second time on December 13th, 1940 at MSG.
Wicked image of Ken Overlin catching Harry Balsamo with a brutal right hand in 1940 at Queensboro Arena. Overlin won the bout when he knocked Balsamo out in the 9th.
Here are some photos of Ken Overlin with his wife Sylvia. I like getting photos of the fighters with their loved ones on here, there's just something about it that warms the heart.