I came across this and felt like sharing. This is an excerpt from The Legendary Champions by Rex Lardner ...Gene Tunney tells the story of an unusual training technique that Fitzsimmons made use of. He would go off alone somewhere and, concentrating his utmost, would close his eyes and imagine himself to be drowning in the ocean. At the moment when in his mind's eye he was about to perish, he would quickly thrust out an arm and pretend he was being saved by seizing a plank on the surface. Desperation gave his thrust great power and he attributed his ability to punch hard, from every position, to his constantly practicing his escape from death. Fitzsimmons was basically a good-natured, non-violent, home-loving, animal-fancying individual. A man of enormous appetite when he was knocking over heavyweights, he ate well even while in strict training for a fight. Often supper would be half a chicken, some toast, a cup of coffee and a bowl of stewed fruit. His favorite food was calf's foot jelly, which was prepared for him by his wife, Rose - a training camp habitué - and which he devoured by the pound. One time at his house in Bath Beach, near the Brooklyn Bridge, his kindness towards members of the animal kingdom got him into trouble. The story is related by Robert H. Davis, the author of Ruby Robert and a newspaperman who covered the Corbett fight for the Hearst press. Davis, a good friend of the Fitzsimmonses, was rousted out of his bed one night by a mysterious phone call. It seemed that Fitz, either drunk or crazy, was claiming to be training a macaw to talk. After the caller hung up, Davis sped over to Fitz's house. The report was true all right, but Fitz was more obsessed than drunk or crazy. The bird had gorgeous plumage, red eyes, a sharp beak and ferocious claws. Fitz showed Davis how friendly it was, then fed the macaw bananas and plums. A storm broke outside, which upset the bird, who gave all his food back. Seeing that the bird was ill, Fitz gave up and went to bed. Davis slept on the couch. When Fitz was deeply asleep, the bird, perhaps upset by being kept up so late, or by the thunder and lightning outside, or by too much mental pressure, attacked the champion. It sank its claws in his thigh and began pecking away at his kidney. Fitz woke up and, unable to dislodge the bird, ran outside and fell face down in the mud. Davis, awakened by his cries, yanked the bird off and chucked it into a closet. In the bathroom, Fitz examined his wounds. He had deep cuts all over his thighs and punctures over his kidney. Davis bandaged him up, and the two went to bed. A few hours later Davis went to the closet and found the bird exhausted and dispirited. He picked it up and flung it out of the window. The bird wobbled off, never to be seen again. Fitz was dismayed that the bird had acted the way it did, after the prizefighter had tried to teach him to talk. "What did you want him to talk about?" Davis asked. Aching and bloody, Fitz did not think the issue was one to be discussed. "Oh, 'ell," he replied. "Let's go back to bed." Ruby Robert was born on June 4, 1864, in Elston, a town in Cornwall in southwest England...
Classic tale I haven't read in many, many years, and a pleasure to see this colorful anecdote posted here for younger viewers. When I see him described as "good-natured, non-violent" though, I keep going back to him warning Corbett immediately after their match that, "If you ever hit me again, I'll shoot you!," or how he went after referee Wyatt Earp for spuriously disqualifying him against Tom Sharkey, inducing Earp to draw his gun. What kind of unarmed "good natured, non-violent" man goes after an Earp packing heat, especially THIS particular Earp? I think he was normally "good natured" and "non-violent" because few were even willing to contemplate testing him.
Fitzsimmons was complex. He was amiable, good natured, classy and fan friendly. He also had a streak of pure evil running through him. I don't think that any fighter has ever been more cold blooded, in terms of inflicting harm upon his opponents in the ring. Of all the heavyweight champion who killed somebody in the ring, he was least affected by it. To cut a long story short, he was probably a good friend, but an awful enemy. Corbett was wise not to go after him in the street.
I thought the story at the beginning from Tunney was cool too. I hadn't looked through The Legendary Champions since the 80's then I came across a secondhand copy the other day. Good find.
