The Irish Heavyweights: A St. Patricks Day Salute

"We are linked by blood, and blood is memory without language." Joyce Carol Oates

Immigrants and their sons, hungry and struggling to survive in a strange land, always make the best fighters.

The Irish, who had a lengthy struggle to assimilate into American society, had a long line of great Irish American heavyweights.

It began, in the modern era of boxing anyway, with a big, brawling man from Boston snarling across the bar "I can lick any sonofabitch in the house!"

The Boston Strong Boy John L Sullivan seized the crown from a man born in Tipperary, Paddy Ryan, and lost it to another Irishman Gentleman Jim Corbett. In between his most famous fight was a 75 rounder against Irishman Jake Kilrain in the mean mid summer humidity of the sweltering Mississippi Delta.

Sullivan was famous for his love of booze and his willingness to over indulge even during training. Sullivan's trainer was William Muldoon. Muldoon, the son of Irish immigrants, was a Union veteran of the American Civil War and the French Army in the Franco-Prussian War and one of the greatest Greco Roman Wrestlers of his time, but he most famous for his ability to tame Sullivan sordid training habits.

When Sullivan disappeared on a training camp bender the cry of "John L. is loose again. Send for Muldoon!" was heard throughout the land because Muldoon was the one man who could control Sullivan's mammoth appetites.

in 1879, with 450 fights under his belt, Sullivan, whose boxing attire spawned the name and cloths Long Johns, growled that he would fight any man in America for 500 bucks and went on tour to back up his boast.

Not many made fun of the man's choice of ring wear.

But Sullivan, aging, living hard, and out of shape, was no match for Gentleman Jim, the man called the father of Modern Boxing and his stinging jab.

Gentlemen Jim even had Errol Flynn play him in a film called "Gentlemen Jim."

Sailor Tom Sharkey, of Dublin, Ireland, stepped into the heavyweight picture in an odd way. Fighting Bob Fitzsimmons for Corbett's vacated crown he won the bout when his opponent was inexplicably disqualified by pistol packing, referee Wyatt Earp of Tombstone fame.

It was rumored that Earp, as he did in Tombstone, had an interest in the outcome and did not feel kindly leaving just a delicate decision to chance.

Sharkey, a US Navy veteran, went on to defeat Corbett and another Irish boxing legend, light heavyweight, Kid McCoy for whom the phrase and the novel The Real McCoy was coined.

Legend says the slender McCoy was being taunted by a large barroom bully who doubted that he really was the famous boxer. After McCoy knocked the man out he was said to have muttered "Sonofabitch that was the Real McCoy."

William Harrison Dempsey took the name "Jack" from the 19th century heavyweight boxer John Edward Kelly of Kildare, Ireland, better known as Jack "Nonpareil" Dempsey. He was called "Nonpareil" because he considered almost untouchable in the ring.

The other, more famous, Jack Dempsey, born of an Irish father, ripped through Roaring Twenties become the most famous sports figure in America. 

Dempsey style owed a lot to Sullivan, after all he had been hardened by fighting in the rowdy saloons, wild mining camps, and rough and tumble towns of the still wild American West.

One of Dempsey toughest fight was against a fellow Irish the wily, hard to hit, Tommy Gibbons who took Dempsey fifteen rounds in the charged atmosphere of Shelby, Montana. Funding the fight would break the Montana town and Dempsey felt the danger in the air.

Dempsey described his ring entrance

"For the first and only time, I was more worried about getting hurt by the crowd than by the guy I was fighting. I got a pretty good blast when introduced. The crowd was hollering and raising hell. I looked around for my bodyguard, a colorful New York character named Wild Bill Lyons, who packed two pearl-handled pistols and used to talk a lot about his days in the West. Wild Bill was under the ring, hiding."

Dempsey, and his crafty manager Tex Rickard, exited Shelby running but his most famous fight, with another fellow Irishman, was in his future.

Gene Tunney parents were Irish immigrants and he honed his fighting style in the Marines during the First World War. His style owed more to Gentleman Jim Corbett then it did to the brawling John L Sullivan. And like Corbett his style would be a perfect matching for the rushing, hard hitting Dempsey.

Tunney, a light weight who had beat Gibbons to earn his shot, out boxed Dempsey and took his crown in a shocking ten round decision in Philadelphia, PA. Afterward the battered Dempsey uttered that famous line, later robbed by Ronald Reagan to describe the assassination attempt on the President, to his wife "Honey, I forgot to duck."

The rematch in Chicago, IL. with Al Capone, Hollywood Celebrities, and Politicians of every stripe in the stadium became  known as The Long Count, perhaps the most famous fight in history.

Dempsey loss almost every round but in the seventh floored Tunney with a vicious six punch combination. Dempsey, raised in an era when fighters did not go to a neutral corner while the Referee counted, lingered over Tunney delaying the count several crucial seconds while the Ref ordered him to a neutral corner.

Those precious extra seconds revived Tunney and he survived and won the decision but the Long Count made them both famous.

Tunney, one of the most underrated fighters in history, quietly retired soon after and married a heiress. His only loss was a decision to the great Human Windmill Harry Greb.

Dempsey, beloved by the public after the Long Count affair, went on to become one of the most famous men of the 20th Century. It was a long strange, trip from riding the rails and fighting mean eyed miners in smokey, sawdust saloons just to earn food for the night.

James J Braddock, the Cinderella Man, became famous during the dark days of the Depression by upsetting heavyweight champ Max Baer. But Braddock had been a boxer, more a journeyman, all his adult life. Born of Irish parents in Hell's Kitchen he worked days as a Longshoreman to make ends meet.

Early in his career Braddock lost to Irish light heavyweight, legend Tommy Loughran. Loughran had fabulous footwork, speed, defense, and was a wicked counter puncher.

But Braddock came back to beat Baer in one of the bigger upsets in Heavyweight history. Braddock lost the crown to Joe Louis  shortly thereafter, though he did manage to put Louis on the canvas early in the fight and signed a crafty contract guaranteeing him a percentage of all of Louis' future earnings just for offering Joe a title shot.

The hard punching, harder living Irishman Mickey Walker, The vicious Toy Bulldog, was one of the greatest welterweights in history and at Middleweight he seized the crown from boxing hall of fame fighter Tiger Flowers.

Walker tried to win the a coveted third title at light heavy weight but lost a decision to Tommy Loughran. Undaunted Walker moved up to heavyweight to try to take Max Baer's crown.

It was to much for Mickey as Baer knocked him out in the first round but went out game moving forward and swinging.

One of the great Joe Louis's most memorable fight was against the Pennsylvania Irishman, and light heavyweight champ, Billy Conn.

Conn, weighing around 175 pounds, fought a fabulous fight and was winning easily on all cards in the 13th round. Advised by his corner to box and stay away from Louis's right, to just take the crown and the decision, Conn instead felt Louis was ready to go and went for the kill.

And Louis knocked him out with a hard right.

Afterwards Conn said "I lost my head and a million bucks." Then "What's the use of being Irish if you can't be thick?" 

Other Irish heavyweights contended for the coveted crown, Jerry Quarry bravely battled the top Heavyweights of the sixties and seventies, and Jerry Cooney used his lethal left hook to take him to the brink of the title, but the Golden Era of the Irish Heavyweights ended with Billy Conn closing, ever closing, with the great Louis thinking damn the decision I'm gonna knock this man out.

From Sullivan to Conn, with a lot of high moments and heartbreaks in between, the Irish heavyweights carved a niche in heavyweight history that will glitter forever.

Lift a glass to the old Ring ghosts of Irish heavyweights past on St Paddy's Day

"What's the use of being Irish if the world doesn't break you heart?" John F Kennedy

And give the old boxing boyos a tune.

Oh, all the money e'er I had, I spent it in good company. And
all the harm that ever I've done, alas it was to none but me.
And all I've done for want of wit to mem'ry now I can't recall; So
fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be to you all.