No Louis, but plenty of prize money

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

— Slightly more than 20 years ago, former Trumann middleweight contender Pete Mead issued a privately published boxing book, Blood, Sweat and Cheers. He surveyed the famous sluggers of his era in a chapter titled “The Best I Saw.” Naturally, he started with the heavyweights. That was the custom of Mead’s times.

“Joe Louis was the best heavyweight I ever saw, or know anything about,” Mead wrote. “Joe had such a wonderful assortment of punches, and his hands were so fast. If you want to grade him 1 to 10, he had a 10 jab, a 10 hook, a 10 uppercut and a 10 right hand. He destroyed aggressive guys with counter punches. He chased down guys who wanted to run. He was such a terrific puncher, it caused him to be underrated as a boxer. If he was just an ordinary hitter, he could still have been a world class fighter on mechanical boxing skills.

“I think of Muhammad Ali, Rocky Marciano, Joe Frazier and all the others, but I keep going back to Louis.”

American heavyweights were pretty much in free-fall by 2007, when Mead died at 83 at Jonesboro. Most boxing almanacs, the past year or so, don’t bother to list American heavyweight “champions.” Two Ukraine brothers, Vitali and Wladimir Klitschko, share the four recognized belts and, being brothers, obviously don’t intend to fight each other.

For a very long time, American boxing has subsisted to a great extent on welterweights and lower: Manny Pacquiao, Floyd Mayweather Jr., and Juan Manuel Marquez. Pacquiao was knocked cold in the sixth round recently, if you recall. Marquez and Pacquiao are likely to have a fifth bout after a draw, two decision victories for Marquez and the startling KO of Pacquiao.

This most recent Las Vegas brawl leaves both fighters with millions.

Mead, back in the 1940s, had a three-fight series with Joey DeJohn, who was seriously considered a likely middleweight champion until Mead knocked him out in Buffalo, N.Y., in 1947. In 1949, Mead stopped DeJohn again in seven rounds at Madison Square Garden. DeJohn then won by a seventh-round knockout in the Rochester, N.Y., baseball stadium.

“I was offered $20,000 by three promoters here and there,” Mead said once. “The best purse I ever had was $10,000. I guess I didn’t look good enough at the right time.”

Back in the 1960s I got a letter from Archie Moore. It was a response to a review of Moore’s autobiography.

The next 10 years, we exchanged a dozen letters or more. As we were going into the 1970s, Archie mentioned that he might spend a day or two in Little Rock if his travel plans were favorable. The late Bob Douglas, then managing editor of the Arkansas Gazette, was a fight fan and Archie was one of his favorites.

At the start, Bob and I wanted to talk about boxing. Archie chose another topic, his work with a club for underprivileged kids he had in San Diego, ABC (Any Boy Can.) We went along with Arch. It seemed the right thing to do.

Archie, Bob, and my family sat around our kitchen table and played a game that Archie had introduced to his young charges. Each of us, in turn, had to renounce some bad habit, and to do so immediately without duplication or be eliminated. Pressed at one point, Bob swore not to take LSD.

Archie slipped up once and repeated himself. One player reminded him he had broken the rules.

“That’s all right,” said the suddenly glowering world light heavyweight champion (1952-1961) who had knocked out a record 141 opponents.

It was all right with Bob, too.

Sports, Pages 18 on 12/18/2012