The Great Black Hope, by Richard Bak. Holman Williams had a considerably longer and more noteworthy career than Jackie Sherman. Infact, some observers have called this forgotten product of the Brewster gym one of the best fighters, pound-for-pound, whoever lived - "the perfect fighter," said one. -- "Williams was a good puncher but he fractured his hands all the time," observed Ken Offet. "His knuckles would always be split. The bad hands kept him from going for the head. Instead he'd cut a man up with uppercuts." -- The sadly unheralded Williams died in 1970, having never come close to a title fight. "You'd almost cry to see his hands when he got old," said Offet. "His hands were broken, and the bones had mended wrong." -- To Joe's embarrassment, Junior would insist on carrying his bag to the gym, which naturally prompted some ribbing about Joe's rough skills already commanding a personal valet. Joe liked the boy's iridescent smile and sense of style - Junior could walk a city block on his hands - although he really didn't know anything about him. Joe lost his juvenile porter when the boy and his mother moved to New York in November 1932. But the two would become reacquainted in the army a decade later, by which time Junior had grown into a promising welterweight named "Sugar Ray" Robinson. -- Poreda's manager, Mushky Jackson, knew why. "The fight itself was something nobody ever heard of," he said. "My fighter took a count of thirty nine in one round. The first punch from Louis put him down for a count of nine, the second punch for another nine." The third punch knocked Poreda out of the ring, and the referee kept counting until he got back. He got up to twenty one. -- Balogh's words had barely stopped echoing through the packed stadium when the identity of the better man was firmly established. A series of lefts and rights to Carnera's head drove his lower teeth through his upper lip, causing him to spurt blood. The second round was more of the same. Blackburn, flashing hand signals like a catcher, directed Joe throughout. Fingers point downward meant to attack the midsection; fingers pointed toward the sky meant to go for the head. To his credit, Carnera hung on through a merciless thrashing, but he knew he had met his master when Louis actually lifted him off his feet as they struggled in a clinch late in the fifth round. Through his shredded lips, the astonished Carnera said, "I should be doing this to you." -- Joe was initially frustrated by Uzcudan's "peek-a-boo" style, which consisted of keeping his gloves close together in front of his face as he manuevered bent over at the waist. In the fourth round he finally penetrated the Basque's exaggerated defence. Uzcudan momentarily opened his mitts and - Bam! - Joe shot in an overhand right. It was a tremendous wallop, one that drove two of Uzcudan's teeth through his bottom lip and sent the 200 pound boxer sailing across the ring. His head bounced off the bottom rope. Although he was able to get back on his feet by the count of nine, referee Art Donovan took a close look at Uzcudan's battered, bewildered face and stopped the fight. For the first time in his long career, the veteran fighter had been knocked out. Twenty minutes later, Uzcudan rose from his bench in the dressing room and fell over in a heap. "I can't even begin to describe that punch," said one of the writers in attendance.
Sounds good, but come on, there must be something about Jim Jeffries ,carrying a bull moose for 12 miles while exceeding the speed limit. I await it with bated breath.
Mostly, Jeffries' mentions are related to Jack Johnson, of whom and about whose reign there is a decent section. Well written book.
