Holly Mims: 50's / 60's Good TV MW Fighter: Holly Mims 68 W 28 L 6 Draws 13 KOs 1 KOs Link here with numerous fight tapes & much more info: http://www.boxing.com/holly_mims_splitting_the_difference.html Mims never wailed about his losses. With a shrug of his shoulders and some gentle sarcasm, he took life’s hits and just kept rolling on… You just keep looking at the records of some boxers in open-mouthed admiration and disbelief. The sheer quality of their opposition pours off the page as your eyes count off names that ring like a bell. Just recently I was re-acquainting myself with the impressive ledger of middleweight Holly Mims, from Washington, DC, who engaged in 102 bouts from 1948 to 1967. Holly’s record is a very handy reference tool on the great fighters of that era. Just one fifth of that record contains the following names: Johnny Bratton, Jose Basora, Gene Burton, Sugar Ray Robinson, George Benton, Lester Felton, Willie Troy, Bobby Dykes, Rocky Castellani, Milo Savage, Bobby Boyd, Spider Webb, Joey Giardello, Henry Hank, Rudell Stitch, Dick Tiger, Gomeo Brennan, Jimmy Ellis, Rubin Carter, Emile Griffith, Joey Archer and Luis Rodriguez. Frustratingly, Holly Mims fell into that cursed category of the highly skilled but unglamorous. He was too dangerous for his own good, too much of a spoiler, one of those guys who got the short notice phone call from promoters when two or three other guys pulled out. Holly got plenty of short notice calls, often getting just a day or two to prepare himself. He trained constantly to cope with the ordeal of being one of boxing’s short order cooks. The story goes that Rubin (Hurricane) Carter didn’t react kindly when Madison Square Garden matchmaker Teddy Brenner advised him that Mims was his substitute opponent for a 10-round match on December 22nd, 1962. Carter won a unanimous decision but not before Mims had knocked him down in the fourth round. If justice had been done, Holly’s professional record would have been considerably better than his official 68-28-6 log, for he was on the wrong end of many questionable split decisions. Somebody once said that those split losses were as frequent as a D.C. liquor store hold-up. Mims was philosophical about this, saying, “I always like to at least let them know I was there.” For the record, Mims lost 27 fights by decision, of which nine were split verdicts and five were decided by majority. Dangerous Holly Mims was a dangerous omnipresence, teak-tough and crafty, always ready to fight. He had entered the boxing through the local amateur clubs in Washington, helped by his brother James, and went on to win the Washington Golden Gloves middleweight title. Holly turned professional in 1948 and it wasn’t long before he was swimming in the deep end of a very talented pool. A stand-up boxer with guile, toughness and a versatile box of tricks, Mims could box and fight and handle any situation. He was adept at picking off opponents’ punches with apparent ease and his sense of anticipation rivalled that of a top chess player. Fluid of movement, Holly could box traditionally or slug when slugging was required. Many an opponent had a rude awakening when he forced Mims to the ropes or into a corner. With his long arms, which he used to maximum effect, Mims would lash back with a volley of punches that left the aggressor stunned. Holly loved the ropes, springing from their haven as an octopus springs from its lair. Mims held his left hand low, teasing his opponents to move into him. Many a puncher grabbed the tempting invitation, like a fish chomping at the angler’s bait, but Mims was a hub of constant and slippery movement and incredibly difficult to hit cleanly. His excellent head movement was consistently confusing to his opponents and he took a punch well when he had to, barely reacting to it. Holly learned his trade well and learned it quickly. By the Spring of 1951 and still only 23 years of age, he had been a professional for less than three years when he gave middleweight champion Sugar Ray Robinson a very testing time in their non-title 10-rounder at the Miami Stadium. Only two months before, Robbie had butchered Jake LaMotta to win the championship. Mims lost a unanimous decision to Robinson but refused to be discouraged throughout the lively encounter and kept coming back to Robbie with all the quirky danger of a boomerang. Blaming a virus for his poor form, Robinson apparently told Mims after the fight that he thought Holly had won. “I guess the virus had me worse than I thought,” Ray said after the fight. “A couple of times I had him lined up but I couldn’t get him.” Mims was buoyant despite the loss and told reporters, “Robinson never hurt me bad any time.” Rollicking It was a rollicking good fight in which Robinson repeatedly tried to steady the ever active Mims and take him out. But nobody ever did knock out the remarkably durable and energetic Mims, who suffered only one loss inside schedule. That was at the tail end of his career in 1964 when a badly cut left eye ruled him out of his fight with Joe Louis Adair in the sixth round. Tough as nuts, Mims had great bounce-back ability and wasn’t at all deterred when the great Robinson decked him in the second round with a right and a left to the head. It was Holly who was the aggressor, surprising Ray on several occasions by punching out of a crouch and catching him with solid blows to the jaw. Ray endeavored to keep Mims at distance with the jab, but the Washington underdog showed scant respect for Ray’s reputation as he continually surged forward. In an exciting fourth round, Mims connected with a trio of solid lefts to the jaw, but Ray countered by driving his opponent into the ropes with a pair of whipping lefts and a right. Mims’ commitment was evident in the sixth round when Robbie stepped on the gas and dominated heavily, only to have his tenacious opponent fire back at the end of the round with several looping right hands. In the eighth round Robinson launched a big effort to stop Holly, punishing him with both fists, but back came Mims again with a spirited attack of his own. In the ninth, Robinson’s frustration showed as he missed the mark with a big right hand and lost his balance. It wasn’t too often in his glittering career that Ray was made to look inelegant.
I saw Mims vs. Archer and Carter on TV 55 years ago (I was about 12-13) and again more recently (several times) on kinescope copies I obtained from Tony Fosco. No way did he lose either of those fights. My favorite fighters from that era are the stand-up guys who really knew their craft like Mims -- George Benton, Harold Johnson, Eddie Cotton, Giardello, Archie Moore. They were clever and they knew how to stand in there and use their craft to avoid punishment without the necessity of running or holding (though Giardello sometimes held too much when he wasn't in shape, which unfortunately was fairly often -- too many cigarettes, etc., in between fights, I think).
