Leading on from this thread: http://www.eastsideboxing.com/forum/showthread.php?t=270960 I know these type of threads have been done to death, but I was reading a Ring (January 92), which had extracts from Possibly Smith's last interview in 1937, and he declares he had no interest in the modern game; it was not manly enough for him. He wore his infamous reputation with pride and states: "I hope the old-timers who remember my fighting days will remember a rough, vicious, dirty and hard fighter; but a fighter all the time. That is exactly what I was. And if I had to do it all over again, I'd play the same way!" (Article by Patrick J. Leonard) Looking at his record: http://boxrec.com/list_bouts.php?human_id=31315&cat=boxer&pageID=2 I would say maybe the man deserves the honour. I get the feeling he would hold the title with pride.
....he liked to chew on his opponent's head..so he loved guys who shaved their hair and came into the ring bald.
While I don't know how valid this is, here's one story on how Smith may have received the nickname as told by Murray Greig in his book "Goin' The Distance"; 'As the story goes, eighteen-year-old Amos Smith showed up one day at the office of the Boston Police News, claiming to be a prizefighter from Eastport, Maine, and demanding an audience with the editor, a fellow with the unlikely name of Captain Cooke. Cooke was a celebrated sportswriter with a particular penchant for covering the fight game, and he was always on the lookout for new talent. When Smith said he was looking for some bouts, Cooke set up a meeting with a local promoter -- but only after insisting the young Canadian change his name to something a little less delicate. "With a name like Amos you're sure to be laughed at," Cooke told him. "Why not change it to something simple and direct?" Thus Amos Smith became Billy Smith, but after a handful of lackluster victories on the Boston "smoker" circuit he left town as suddenly and quietly as he appeared. Several months passed before the Police News began receiving sporadic dispatches from the West Coast about a bantamweight by the name of Billy Smith who was defeating some fairly well-known opponents, Reading one of the dispatches one day, Cooke casually remarked to an assistant: "Here's another story about that mysterious Billy Smith. Put his picture with it and run it on page one." Sure enough, the picture appeared above a caption that read, "Mysterious Billy Smith Wins Again!" -- and the handle stuck.'
