Fighters Should Be Gentlemen The Story Of Jimmy Mclarnin Canada S Greatest Boxer

When the author, Des Corry, searched the Vancouver Library for a book on Jimmy McLarnin, BC's only World Boxing Champion and Canada's greatest boxer, he was shocked to find that none had been written. There was a time when everyone knew of Jimmy McLarnin. Not so now. They should. Determined to remedy this, he spent time with Jim at his home, his club, and with friends of his boxing days. This book is the result of countless hours of research and interviews, presented in a highly readable manner by a knowledgeable wordsmith.

In the 1920s and 30s, anti-Semitism was rife in the United States and Europe. Jews needed symbols of strength and demonstrations of courage against their enemies, and they found both in two champions of boxing: Max Baer and Barney Ross. Baer was the only Jewish heavyweight champion in the twentieth century, while Ross was considered one of the greatest welterweight and lightweight champions of the era. Although their careers never crossed paths, their boxing triumphs played a common role in lifting the spirits of persecuted Jews. In Max Baer and Barney Ross: Jewish Heroes of Boxing, Jeffrey Sussman chronicles the lives of two men whose successful bouts inside the ring served as inspiration for Jewish fans across the country and around the world. Though they came from very different backgrounds—Baer grew up on his family’s ranch in California, while Ross roamed the tough streets of Chicago and was a runner for Al Capone—both would bask in the limelight as boxing champions. Their stories include legendary encounters with such opponents as Jimmy McLarnin (known as the Jew Killer), Max Schmeling (Hitler’s favorite athlete), and Primo Carnera (a sad giant controlled and mistreated by gangsters). While recounting the exploits of these two men, the author also paints an evocative picture of boxing and the crucial role it played in an era of anti-Semitism. A vivid and engaging look at these two heroes and the difficult era in which they lived, Max Baer and Barney Ross will appeal to boxing fans, sports historians, and anyone interested in Jewish history.

He was the Darling of the Depression. At a time when the Mob ruled the prize ring, Jimmy McLarnin and his manager Pop Foster stayed out of the clutches of the gunmen. This is the story of two Irishmen who found each other on foreign shores and formed one of the great partnerships in sports – the old fairground fighter and the scrawny kid he promised to make champion of the world someday. Theirs is an epic journey that begins in County Down and ends on the star-lined pavements of Sunset Boulevard. Along the way lie murders and organised crime; Nazis, filmstars and gangsters; glamour, gang wars and Gaelic football!

And the winner is...JOE GRIMM! He scored 24 KOs in a row and was never knocked out. He was a winner in the ring, and a winner in life. This is the story of a bantam boxer, his chaperoning older brother, and the time in which they lived. It is the 1920s, and there are boxing clubs in nearly every city in America. Joe Grimm weighs 118 pounds and is flat-footed—but he has a punch and a KO record that draw leading managers to add Joe to their stables. He trains in the same gym as Jim Braddock, the future Cinderella Man. Joe’s awesome winning streak is interrupted when he and his brother are called home. He leaves the arenas with their cheering crowds and works as a butcher in his grocery shop bought with ring money for his family. Now the character traits that made him a boxing wonder make him a success in business. The Gentleman Boxer captures the excitement and hope of an era when anything was possible and anyone could become a hero—or a champion. It is a tribute to the thousands of forgotten bantam prizefighters in the Golden Age of Boxing.

Heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey called Sam Langford from Weymouth Falls, Nova Scotia, “The greatest fighter we’ve ever had.” And champion Jack Johnson stated he “he was the toughest little son-of-a-bitch that ever lived.” Celebrated New York boxing writer Hype Igoe said he was “the greatest fighter, pound for pound, who ever lived,” while New York sports writer Joe Williams said he “was probably the best the ring ever saw.” Langford was so good that many boxers refused to fight him, so good that he took bouts with bigger men just to get a match, so good that he once fought the greatest boxer of his age, Jack Johnson, who was forty pounds heavier and a good foot taller—and still went the distance. Yet, for all the ferocity of his talent, Sam Langford (1883-1956) could not outbox fistic fate. From his first bout in 1902 until his last a quarter century later, he battled boxing’s colour barrier that kept him from being world champion in three different weight classes. Still, he refused to be knocked down and relentlessly pursued a title shot until he was nearly forty. When, in 1923, he approached Jack Kearns, the manager of then heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey, for a title bout, the wily Kearns looked over the nearly blind, well-past-his-prime boxer, and shook his head. “We were looking for someone easier,” he sighed. He was just that good. When Langford could no longer get his title shot, he retired from the ring in 1926 and soon faded from the public mind—until the serious compilers of lists that recognize boxing’s all-time greatest began including his name, and he found himself becoming a legend. His official record says he fought 250 bouts, but he remembered fighting more than 500. And he loved to talk about them all, loved the stories that shaped the contours of his life and loved the absolute truth and less-than-certain tales that wove themselves into his boxing legend. Of course, this was as it should have been, because for him, great boxing was as much about the battles’ tales as it was about the battles themselves. This is the story of Sam Langford.