Old timers' technique/style descriptions

1897-07-23 Buffalo Courier-Record (Buffalo, NY) (page 9)
McCoy displayed all the essential qualifications of a first-class fighter. He is certainly a marvel in the fistic line.

He used tactics such as were never seen in this city before, and his style throughout was original.

He proved to be a marvel in agility. He landed blows with lightning like rapidity and was away like a flash to avoid Moore's counters. His footwork was perfect, and his judgment of distance so correct that on getting back from his opponent's leads, he barely got out of danger, and just retreated enough to be in position to counter with good effect.

McCoy's crouching attitude is very deceptive, and it is almost impossible for an adversary to tell with which hand he is about to lead. He uses a quick, sudden feint with either hand to draw his man on, and then sends in his counters with great force and speed, and with apparently very little effort.

McCoy used his famous corkscrew blow on Moore with telling effect, landing it with left on the wind several times. The left handers on the body the Kid usually followed with stiff left hand hooks for the head. He jarred Moore half a dozen times with those blows and in the second round it was one of them that first put the Northwestern lad to the floor.

The wonderful reach of McCoy was shown more especially in his drives from long range at Moore's stomach. He landed six of those blows in rapid succession without a return in the first round, all of Moore's attempts at countering excepting one, being several inches short.

McCoy's blocking was a feature of the bout, and was brought into play every time Diсk made an attempt to rush him. His blocks are similar to Young Griffo's, and he has a knack of landing one or two swift jolts before his opponent can clinch with him.

At close range Moore was as badly worsted as in the stand-off work. There were only two rallies at infighting, and in these Diсk's vicious swings were either ducked or blocked and his face and body stopped half a dozen sharp shots from various angles in each mixup.

McCoy has a very peculiar style of delivering his blows. He does not draw back his arms and make an effort such as most boxers do, but lets his blows shoot from the original position of the fists without wasting the time it would take to draw back. He manages to concentrate force into his forearm and this, combined with the suddenness and speed with which he lets fly, has the effect of jarring his opponent. Moore fought cleverly enough, and against an ordinary man, or a boxer a notch or two below McCoy in skill, he might have shown up to very good advantage.

As it was, Moore was completely outclassed. McCoy outgeneralled him, outfought him, and proved to be his master at all stages of the game.

The veriest novice would have stood as good a chance with Moore as the latter did with McCoy.

Moore appeared bewildered at the Kid's agility and cleverness. He aimed straight blows and swings at McCoy's head, any one of which might have felled any person had they landed, but McCoy, by most beautiful ducking, let the blows pass carelessly over his head, at the same time smashing Diсk right and left on body and face in return.

McCoy showed left and right uppercuts that looked dangerous. Moore barely missed one from the right hand which might have settled him had it landed, but he stepped away just in time to escape it.

The windup came earlier than was generally expected. McCoy's drives on Moore's wind distressed him perceptibly, and twice he grunted audibly.

McCoy, on finding that his opponent's weak spot was his wind, kept sending in blow after blow on that part of the anatomy. He did this in the second round, and after sending in one smash on Diсk's blows that was harder than the others, he turned his head as though about to step away, and then like a flash he shot in his hooked left with terrific force for the jaw. It landed on the right spot and Moore went down. He was up again at the count of five, but was badly dazed.

It was then that McCoy showed how well he knew how to take advantage of an opportunity. Before Moore could realize what was about to happen, the Kid was in on him, with a fusillade of blows. They came fast and hard, and were a varied assortment. Hooks, swings, straight drives, and uppercuts were sent in by McCoy with such wonderful rapidity that it was almost impossible to keep accurate tab on them.

Moore received fully a dozen blows in half that number of seconds and finally he was doubled up with a left-hand corkscrew blow in the pit of the stomach which was followed by a powerful halfarm blow with the right on the point of the jaw. Moore fell flat on his face and remained motionless while he was being counted out.

McCoy displayed an excellent temper, and was cool and calculating throughout.

W. C. KELLY,
Referee Olympic Athletic Club.​

 

I believe the following write-up was by A. M. Dic kinson

1897-09-11 Saturday Globe (Utica, NY) (page 4)
Notwithstanding his tremendous reach, Selby's chief aim in battle is to get inside the other fellow's guard. He does it, too, in a mysterious way that has always puzzled his enemies as soon as they become conscious enough to wonder about it. He never forgets the ancient axiom that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. If two men are trying to eliminate the distance between their fists and each other's jaws that man will win whose fist travels the shortest distance.

This rule is so simple that one is reluctant to call attention to it, yet it is a sad fact that not 2 per cent. of the men who live by punching their fellows know anything about it. They think that savage scowls and long, heavy swings will do the business. It is only by rare good fortune that blows of this kind land, whereas the short, straight ones are almost sure to get to their proper marks.

Selby's fighting position looks crouchy. He does crouch up about the head and shoulders, but he is as loose from the loins downward as a walking panther. He is on tiptoe all the time, ready to dart in his left fist when the first opportunity offers. Keeping the shoulders raised protects his jaw and chin from swings without the labor of raising his arms. All of Selby's fighting tactics are model devices for saving labor in the ring. His arms, held close to the body, guard it well.

He does not hit quite straight. His blow is not the lunge of the rapier. It is rather like the twisting thrust of the schlager. With his left fist held well forward, Selby jabs it at his opponent's chin with a curious sideways motion towards the right. The distance between the fist in repose and the point where it strikes the chin is rarely more than eight or ten inches.

How does Selby get the power into this blow? He stiffens his entire frame only as far as the left elbow, then from that foundation whips in the fist with a sort of snapping thrust. The impact of this blow broke big Jim Daly's jaw. It has put many other strong men to sleep for periods ranging from ten seconds to two or three hours. The blow is new, and it is Selby's own.

It is really beautiful in its simplicity. It can be landed on the body as easily as on the chin or neck.

A pleasant variant of this blow is to coax the enemy to make a right fist lunge at the head. Selby thrusts forward his left arm and pops out the elbow so as to throw off the incoming right. Then, starting his left fist from its extended position, he whips it in on the jaw, thereby causing vertigo. He can do these tricks just as well with his right arm and fist. They are new.

The amazing simplicity of his blows is only part of Selby's armament.

"I always try to keep inside of the other fellow," he said the other day, "because it gives me a good start. I get going sooner than he does and I land quicker. I often reach in with my open hand and push a fellow's shoulder. It's easy to spin a man around when he's up on tiptoe, and then bang him before he recovers his balance. I've done it lots of times."

There is much food for thought in these tactics. All would-be boxers should study them. Selby's most dangerous blow is worked against his enemy's left lead. With a swinging tap of his own left palm he throws the incoming fist aside. Immediately his open right hand seizes the enemy's left forearm, close to the elbow and yanks it forward and downward. This causes the enemy's head and body to pitch forward. As the enemy's chin advances it crashes against Selby's left fist, which has been popped in just in time to ?????. The result is shocking to the enemy.

All of these tactics are of Selby's own devising. He has others, equally new and dangerous. He has studied anatomy with the help of text books and a good instructor, and he knows the exact pugilistic value of shocks to the solar plexus (upper abdomen), pneumogastric nerve (chin and jaw), the blow at the anterior end of the short ribs, &c.

 

1897-12-20 The New York Herald (New York, NY) (page 10)
"To the Editor of the Herald:--

"I cheerfully accept your kind invitation to explain my style of boxing. I believe in hitting and getting away. If I can avoid it I never allow an opponent to counter me. I never attempt to land an effective blow unless my adversary is coming toward me. Then I let go full force, so that I get double action out of the blow. That is a general idea of my style. I have no set way of fighting. I never fight two men alike. In some instances I depend entirely upon left hand jabs, while in other cases I use left hand swings or left hand upper cuts. I rarely use the right hand, except for blocking purposes. The first time I really let myself loose so far as my right was concerned was in my fight with Creedon. I used it quite often in that battle, and Creedon told me it was a revelation to him. 'Dan' and many other good judges imagined that I could not use that member effectively. I guess they think differently now.

"Many persons wonder why I assume a crouching position at times. It is because I protect my body and am in a position always to block a blow for the jaw or step back and let the blow strike my chest. In my fight with Creedon you may have noticed that I frequently crouched, and while in that position would leave my jaw exposed. Creedon thought he saw an opening and would swing his right for the vital point. I would either step back or parry the blow and land the left, hook fashion, on the Australian's face. In crouching I may lose something in reach, but I make up for it in foot work--that is, I offset the apparent advantage my position gives my opponent by side stepping when a blow looks too dangerous.

"In the ring all fighters look alike to me. By that I mean that I do not take any more chances with a fourth rater than with a champion. I always enter the ring in the best of condition and like to take my time about polishing off an opponent. Of course if I am pressed I will mix it up. Creedon thought that his forte was infighting, but I imagine his opinion has undergone a change since last Friday night.

"In my fight with the Australian I frequently backed into a corner to force Creedon to infight me, so as to feel him out at short range and show him that when I had to do it I could fight as well at short range as at long range. He was always the first to break away after the short arm rallies.

"I do not think that great strength is an essential qualification for success in the prize ring. I base this opinion on my own success as a boxer. Nearly all the men I have fought have possessed greater strength. This is especially true of Creedon. He is a much stronger man than I, but he could not hurt me because he lacked other more important qualities. Science, in my opinion, will always win. At least that is my experience.

"I don't believe in drawing back when about to strike a blow. It puts your opponent on his guard. I strike from any point my arm happens to be at, and I am not particular to send the weight of my body with it. I depend more on my opponent to collide with it than on the force I apply."

"CHARLES ('KID') McCOY."​

 

1898-01-20 New York Evening Journal (New York, NY) (page 7)
To the Editor of the Evening Journal:

I realize that I am a very youthful aspirant to championship honors, and yet my record as a fighter may permit me, I think, to give some points on the art of boxing from an American view. Although young in years I have had some experience, and such as it is, would be glad to present it to the Evening Journal readers.

I have watched fighting all my life and have been an active participant in the ring for the last six years. I firmly believe that there is what might be termed an American style of fighting. Every one has heard of the old days when they sailed into each other without much regard to science and ever wholly intent upon a knockout in the least possible time. Sullivan is a good example of this style. Of late years Corbett has been the exponent of what is termed a hit-and-get-away method and it is popularly supposed today that this is the correct way to fight or box. I disagree with both of these methods and will frankly state why.

In the first place a man who sails right into his opponent fearlessly and without regard to consequences is very apt to meet a chance blow. Should he do so his career is over and he is beaten before he has really started. Aggression is all right when used with judgment, but to study this feature and no other is fatal. On the other hand the man who is carried away with Corbett's idea of using light jabs to tire his man out, and relying upon his feet work to avoid punishment is also wrong. No one particular style of fighting can be successful for any length of time, it is the combination of good points of all fighters that makes a man above defeat.

I therefore believe a man should study each antagonist he meets, should thresh out the good blows from the bad, and gain from every fight he enters many new ideas that will be useful in his future career. The only way to improve is to study. Head work is only half of the battle that you are fighting, but means a certainty of future success if rightly followed out. That is why I believe an educated man with equal ability will always win against an ignorant opponent. Education is the keynote to success in fighting in the ring as much as it is a necessity for advancement in every day life. I will guarantee to defeat any man ever stronger and more scientific than I am if he has no thinking powers and uses his advantages at the wrong purpose. Common sense is the hardest upper cut a man can give.

My idea of the modern American method of fighting is a combination which involves the fierce aggression of Sullivan, the lightning quickness with hands and feet of Corbett, and the stolid forearm punches of Fitzsimmons. The true champion of today should be a composite of parts of every champion of former days. All human physiques differ, and a good characteristic can be always found in any prominent fighter. The man who will bring the championship of the world to his door and keep it there is he who will pick out and combine these good points in all the celebrated fighters. That is my aim, and that I intend to be some day.

Of course, there are some characteristics that are absolutely necessary to a successful fighter. First of all, quickness should be cultivated. It does not do for a man to stand off and wait for an attack; he must be able to choose his time and sail in with lightning rapidity and dynamite ferocity.

Keep cool. No matter whether your opponent has jabbed you three or four times in the face without a return don't permit such an occurrence to anger you. Granting that a good hard punch in the jaw is dazing and apt to rattle you, yet the successful man will spar for time, always keeping up his courage and realizing that a fight can be won with one blow.

I consider defence in ring tactics a very important matter. I do not mean by that to learn it at the expense of aggression; but to cultivate it as one of the necessary adjuncts of a fight. A man who can ward off his opponent's blows and at the same time not lose his own steam and aggression is a sure winner. The constant receiving of annoying blows is bound to interfere and break up a man's plan. If he can avoid this annoyance by cleverness he has the fight nearly won at the start. A proper definition of fighting in my mind is first to deliver good hard blows in the proper places and second to defend your vital parts from your opponent's advances. Of course, it is easy enough to define such a map, but extremely hard to arrive at such a point of science.

I have found in all my fights that it is an advantage to be the aggressor. It immediately puts the other man in a position of guessing and keeps him so busy in defending himself that he is unable to form a plan of attack. My position in such cases I consider unique. I stand with both feet on a line and somewhat apart. I use a weaving motion of the arms and chest that permits me when I rush to adopt either of four different blows--a hard straight jab with the left, a right cross counter, a left upper cut or a hard body blow with either fist.

This method is practically a mask which so covers my movements that my opponent is at a loss for the proper defence. I use my own judgment as to which blow to put in, figuring out from his position and looks what defence he is likely to make. Once inside his guard I keep both fists on the move, and try to do as much damage as possible before the clinch. The value of getting close in this manner is shown particularly by the opportunity of upper-cutting. Your opponent is bound to meet this swift rush, and if you have calculated correctly his defence you have escaped his blow; then comes the upper-cut. You are in a position to use either hand with advantage, and, while you may not get in a knockout blow, you will still land with sufficient force to weaken him. I believe that an upper-cut under the chin, no matter how lightly administered, is the most exhausting blow in a fighter's repertoire.

In meeting a rush of your opponent it is well to change your position and keep on the move. Don't be afraid to get out of the way when you think it necessary, but do it in a manner that will permit you to come back at him like a flash. I have won many a fight by judging correctly when my opponent is going to rush, stepping back out of the way with such an eye to distance that I was enabled to have him at my mercy after he made his effort. The difference between Corbett's style and my own is that I am competent to mix it up with the best of them when my judgment permits, and at the same time can play the hit and get away with equal advantage.

I realize that I am young in my profession, that while I have made it a success and have reached nearly the top, yet there is much for me to learn. I am always ready to learn. I am not conceited in regard to my ability; but I am anxious and willing to meet any man in the world among the heavyweights. If I am defeated I will have nothing to say, and if I win I will realize that there will be plenty of hard work before me to hold my title. Yours's truly,

CHARLES (KID) M'COY.​

 

1900-03-05 The Brooklyn Citizen (Brooklyn, NY) (page 5)
"I do not agree with Mike Donovan in his claim that Young Griffo was the greatest boxer the world has ever seen; that's stretching the limit," says Billy Muldoon. "I speak of Griffo only as a defensive boxer. He was constantly on the defense. No one of his pounds or inches could whip him that I know of when he was himself. But he couldn't whip any one. The nearest escape from defeat in Griffo's experience was when he had Lavigne for his foe at Chicago five years ago. They boxed an eight-round draw, but the little Frenchman drove home several stiff doses in the shape of left and right wallops for the body that made Griffo wince. But he cut of this stiff dose of glove medicine after the fifth round, and was strong on his feet when the last bell tapped. The cleverest exhibition of defensive tactics I ever witnessed was in his fray with George Dixon, with whom he boxed ten, twenty and twenty-five-round draws. Dixon was constantly on the advance throughout these contests, while the little Australian stood his ground and pushed aside the left slams and right crosses aimed at him by Little Chocolate. These contests were doubtless the finest display of defensive and offensive tactics ever produced in the prize ring with Dixon, of course, as the aggressor. Each contest was declared a draw. It was always my opinion that if Dixon and Griffo went to a finish, Little Chocolate would have been the conqueror, as he had the staying power and was stronger than Griffo. But the antipodean seemed to have the knack of training for a certain number of rounds and cutting out his work systematically before entering the ring. His style of boxing was original in many respects. That right hand half uppercut under the guard was a blow of his invention. At least, I never saw it used till he met Dixon. This blow is specially effective in close range fighting. Griffo used it with more effect and scored oftener with it than any boxer I have ever seen. He made a feint to swing the right, across on the jaw, but shifted and brought it up under the guard for the point of the jaw. Hooking with the left was another one of the points in his tactics. He feinted for the body and whipped over the guard with the left. In ducking he had but one equal in the history of the prize ring. I mean Mace. Mace's defensive tactics reminded me of Griffo, though Mace was more aggressive and nervier than Griffo."

 

An assortment of quotes on Johnny Kilbane's style
https://senya13.blogspot.com/2021/12/johnny-kilbane.html

 

1898-03-31 New York Evening Journal (New York, NY) (page 9)
GEORGE DIXON AND TOMMY WHITE TO-NIGHT.
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Sporting Men Favor the Colored Fighter on His Form and Pick Him the Winner.
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Is it possible for Tommy White, of Chicago, to lick George Dixon? That is the question. They fight to-night at Syracuse.

Dixon is, in the fullest sense of the term, an aggressive opponent. He never misses a chance to play for a blow. Most often he lands. He has two hands, and both are good. Either is capable of touching up the other fellow, if it does not put him out. He is an all-around fighter. He is acquainted and on familiar terms with all the tricks of the trade, and he knows how, when and where to use them in the matter of doing the most good. His head is as good as his hands. Long experience, gained in battles with dubs, fairly good men and crackerjacks--for he has been against all the species--has taught him what to do and when to do it.

To come back to the aggressiveness of the champion small man it need only be recalled that Dixon has forced the fighting in every contest wherein he has been a participant. He has every advantage, excepting in the matter of reach in this go with White. He is one of those machines born for fighting. It was not necessary to make a fighter out of him. He can't help it. His feet are as clever as his head. In the case of this colored man it need not be said that this particular subject is large. It is enough to say that George has pedestals, and he is as fast on them as with his hands, and that he uses them in avoiding blows far more cleverly than a good many boxers use their arms.

When Dixon goes in to fight the party of the other part must look out. Dixon always goes in to do all the damage he can, after he has sized his man up, and that only takes a round or two, even when he is meeting a man for the first time.

Dixon a Body Puncher.

Dixon is mainly a body puncher. His left has terrific force, and it is the gun with which he is pretty sure to inaugurate proceedings. His right he uses for purposes of defence, and it is a mighty useful members as Dixon employs it. But the left! It is apt to smash into a fellow's stomach, or around back on his kidneys with such power that the recepient wants but a few thumps from it before letting him know that he is getting all he has requested.

Whenever there is an opening for the right to come into play, Dixon's good eyes are invariably doing their duty, and bang goes in that stiff right. As a rule Dixon follows out his theory of body punching, even with the right, and, in that case, the left ribs of the opponent will be marked with a curtain of red; but if the enemy leaves an opening for the face the same old right will find its way there with a speed that will disconcert the enemy, if it does not perfect a complete rout.

Dixon is reported to be all right for the bout to-night. If he is, according to the expressions of opinion given below, he should thrash White.

But how about White? Is he not in it? The friends of the Chicago boy, while not desirous of putting up a whole lot of money on him, say to a man that he will let the champion know before the twenty rounds are over that he has run up against the stiffest game of his life.

Nobody can be induced to say that White will win--that is, without a qualification of some kind. These are some who talk about Dixon's having "gone back," his sprained ankle, and other things which encourage them to whisper that White has a good chance and will stay the twenty rounds at least. These friends of White are taking all the 2 to 1 bets they can hear about, and there are any number of offers at those odds to be discovered.

White a Defensive Fighter.

Tommy White is best known as a defensive fighter. He has a long reach, and can hold off an antagonist for a long time--until his opponent gets in under his guard and beats him down. White's face guard is excellent. It takes a long time for any man, no matter how strong, to rap him on the jaw. While the other is trying to land a jaw punch, White has generally been able to send out his long left and jab the other in all parts of the face, cutting and hurting.

Incidentally, it might be remarked, that Dixon does not like jabbing on the face. Billy Plimmer won a decision from the colored champion, in Madison Square Garden, in a four-round bout, simply by that same kind of work, and making Dixon mad by his cuts on the face.

White is no puncher. He has knocked a couple of men out, but, in his long career, he has had opportunities to add more to his list. His gameness is unquestioned. His science is apparent. So here comes another case of science against slug. Not that it is meant that Dixon has no science. Dixon is one of the most scientific of them all. Perhaps it would be better to say that it is a case of height and reach against bulldog aggression.

Manifestly, Dixon is called upon to do something, since his defeat (on the record) by Solly Smith. Dixon is no fool, and he appreciates the situation.

Manifestly, Tommy White has got to do something, or forever after fail to be a drawing card. And there you are.

...

 

1898-04-09 New York Evening Journal (New York, NY) (page 9)
JACK DALY'S AND KID LAVIGNE'S STYLE.
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Fighters Are Well Matched for Their Bout in Philadelphia on Next Monday Night.
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...
If height and reach could surely tell the tale, Lavigne would not be in it. Daly overtops his opponent by good three inches, and his punching hands will be on the Michigan man, while those of the Saginaw gentleman, at even distance, will not be within nearly two inches of the other's person.

And Daly has a lovely estimate of how far he should let his fists go out to make a mark. Daly is clever. Daly is quick. Daly has a head, and Daly has agile feet. He also has eyes.

Moreover, he has a chop with his left that will cut a good many mugs into ribbons. It is not a blow, like that of Stanton Abbott. It is not a hit of the fullest power, with the back and the leg behind it. It is a cutter, delivered with the heel of the hand. But you can bet that it is effective. Lavigne learned that in Cleveland.

Daly's right is no poor trembler, either. He is the owner of a combination of digits on that right side of his person which will, when landed, send a pretty big sort of a fellow into dreamland. Daly's left chopper may stop on the face. It may only fetch the shoulder, or, perhaps, it will fall lower, and touch up the ribs, so that they will look as though a conflagration were going on inside, but his right is a corker.

He doesn't use it often. He puts it into play only when he sees the best chance, and his judgment in said use is of the most admirable character. Everybody who has heard from Daly during the last few days says Jack is perfect, in physical shape, and is sure of doing those things to Lavigne that Lavigne will wish should not have been done.

Lavigne is a rusher. He is a boxer who goes in to do or die. He is a performer who is capable of taking a vast lot of punishment, and is a grueller. Taking punishment, apparently, makes him laugh. Nobody has made him sadly tired. He receives blows, no matter where, as though they were appetizers. He likes 'em. But he is fighting all the time. He is one of the few boxers who can put a man out with either hand. Swing, swing, right or left--it is all the same to Lavigne. Smashing in with the two, and breaking down the other fellow's guard are easy to him. He was born that way. He can't help it. He will be in at Daly with both hands. The fact that he will have only six rounds, he says, will but inspire him the more to show superiority quickly. If he is in good shape, the sports say, he will show it, though he is not a six-round sparrer.

 

1898-04-13 New York Evening Journal (New York, NY) (page 9)
MYSTERIOUS SMITH VS. JOE WALCOTT
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Probably No Two Men Were Ever Better Matched--They Meet at Bridgeport To-morrow.
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...
In style of boxing, the men are, again, very much like each other. They are smashers, from start to finish. They are hard smashers. They are vicious smashers. Neither will overlook an advantage to break loose for a final blow, and both have good eyes.

They are not of the jabbing class. They land for the purpose of ending it, then and there. Swings, straight shoulder hits and upper cuts are common property between them.

From the other standpoint, each one of 'em is possessed of an excellent defence. As a rule, neither would depend much upon his capacity for protecting himself. He would follow his natural instincts and go in to demolish, believing that he could do so. Not so this trip. These gentlemen have met before. Each has a vivid memory of what the other has done. There is no sweetness in the recollection.

On this occasion there will be probably, because of the existence of said vivid memory, far more of tactics defensive than either ever indulged in before.

That is, for a time. Nobody can tell how long those two powerful sluggers will be able to keep control of judgment, and merely box for points. They are born battlers with their hands. Also heads. They are game to the heart's core. There will be no quitting. Nor will there be a suspicion of a fake. There is between them too much of the feeling that lies in the breast of the born fighter.

Alas, one unhappy line is an essential to this story, or it would not be complete. Walcott and Smith both have the reputation of being foul fighters. This is added only because it is history. The men say they will be careful, and they evidently mean it. In the case of either--it is a tie--a disqualification because of unfair fighting would mean disqualification from making money in the future, and they know it. The situation seems to be amply appreciated by both. Under the circumstances it may not be too much to predict that Smith and Walcott will fight the finest battle of their lives at Bridgeport to-morrow night.

Fortunately, a just and fearless referee, Sam Austin, will give the decision. Those who are betting on the result need not feel alarmed that they will hear a true verdict.

 

1898-05-13 New York Evening Journal (New York, NY) (page 10)
WHAT THE M'COY-RUHLIN FIGHT MEANS.
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Principals Represent Different Schools, but Each Is Clever and the Mill Should Grind.
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The fight between "Kid" McCoy and Gus Ruhlin means a meeting of the two opposing styles of fighting.

The "Kid" stands for all that is scientific, shifty and careful. He never takes a chance, and is always trying to induce the other man to take many of them. He is cold, calculating and watchful. No amount of punishment ever rattles him or induces him to abandon himself to luck. He does not believe in taking a punch for the chance of handing one back--he wants to send in three or four for one. In action he has a movement of the hands, arms and body different from any man in the ring. It is not a trick of McCoy's so much as a combination of all the best movement he has ever seen.

The "Kid" learns of every man he meets. Perhaps it is only an accident that his opponent uses a certain blow, but if it is in any way clever McCoy elaborates it into a dangerous trick.

McCoy is perhaps the best exponent of the inside uppercut--a blow generally unseen, but as dangerous as any ever used. McCoy uses both hands with equal cleverness and apparently with about the same effect. His left does quite as much damage as his right, and is always in evidence.

Unlike most men who are clever in foot work he is a rusher and a terrific infighter. If his opponent wishes to rush and mix it, McCoy is liable to break ground a few times to fool his man, but the next rush is met with a volley of straight jolts, hooks and upper cuts that send the rusher back dazed and guessing.

McCoy's Weaving Motion.

The "Kid" advances with a curious weaving motion that offers a chance for either hand on a second's notice. He does not look dangerous. His gloves are usually half open, and his arms swing aimlessly in this curious way of his. But the second he is inside, or has reached his distance, he is in like a flash. He knows tricks with both hands that few men have yet learned, and when he turns them loose the "Kid" suddenly goes up in the estimation of his opponent.

He is the ring general par excellence. He knows which rush to stop and which to get away from. After a few rounds he has his opponent's blows figured out and knows exactly how to discount them.

Smiles, always smiles, is the motto of Kid McCoy. The noise of applause, the rushes of his opponent, the clamoring of seconds all are unnoticed. As cold as ice and with the supreme confidence of the man who believes his knowledge to be worth more than a few pounds in weight, he goes in the ring certain of victory. Not by strength so much as by superior intelligence has he come from nowhere and nothing, in the pugilistic world, to be considered the most dangerous man in the ring.

He meets a heavyweight at last who has some reputation. Ruhlin has demonstrated that he can fight. He is not as clever as McCoy. He is not the general that McCoy is, but he weighs 180 when at fighting weight and can hit handily with either paw.

Ruhlin's Way of Going.

Ruhlin, too, has figured out a "way of going" that is different from that of most fighters. He has been a student since the day he met O'Donnell. He is slower than McCoy and heavier, but he is, nevertheless, shifty and exceedingly handy. He has a way of getting to the body and then the head that has rattled some pretty even tempered men. McCoy's way of mixing it will suit Ruhlin, as he asks for no better chance than to get his man at close range.

He can jab, too, and knows how to place the right hand right afterward. He has not the individuality of McCoy, nor the knowledge of tricky fighting, but he is clever, and, in a mix-up, is liable to make the "Kid" wonder at times.

It is said Ruhlin has improved in cleverness since he met Jeffries. More, he was clever then. He can use every ounce of his weight when it comes to punching. Ruhlin is confident, and beyond this he, too, can punch.

The bout should be one of the best and will no doubt demonstrate just how much right McCoy has in the heavyweight class.

 

1898-05-30 New York Evening Journal (New York, NY) (page 6)
JIMMY BARRY VS. CASPER LEON.
--------
A Comparison of Two of the Cleverest Little Men That Ever Put on Gloves Preliminary to Their Contest for the Bantam Weight Championship.
--------
...
As to the cleverness of the two men they are both the limit. No trick that light, middle or heavy weights know is new to them. They know it all. Leon is beyond a doubt one of the most interesting men in action ever known to the ring. He is a wonderful feinter and has tied many a keen-eyed chap into double knots by the deception of his action. His left hand is the hardest to cross in the business, and his right is a capable companion. If there is a prettier man whose left is every bit as clever and whose right is fast enough to cross a lighting flash it is that keen-eyed, cool Westerner, Jimmy Barry.

Never yet has he met the man whose feints were clever enough to make him waste a punch or tangle him. A good left hand is a clever, deceptive thing, and there is none more so than little Barry's. And that right of Barry's needs no excuses. That hand has won him his position in the ring. It has stopped ambitious youngsters with one short jolt and sent old timers to the shades. It settled Casper Leon once, and the wise men say it will settle him again. It is a strange, weird hand for such a man. Where it gets its awful speed has been a subject of wonder to the men who dream over such things. He weighs in at 105 pounds, this Barry, and yet the punch comes as if there was a ton behind it. It comes, too, true as the Yankees shoot.

It wavers and hangs limply, this right, as Barry goes into action. There is no move, not a feint. It works lazily and harmlessly to the range and the opening. Then no one sees it till it is stopped or lands. It is back to its position again as lifeless and harmless a looking thing as the hand of a sleeping child. Then it comes suddenly, and then again and yet again. The men who watch wonder, and the man in front of him begins to believe the tales he has heard of Barry.
...


1898-05-31 New York Evening Journal (New York, NY) (page 6)
...
There are no prettier men in action than these two lads, Barry and Leon. Barry is a miniature of Lavigne, solid and strong through his chest. He is always coming to his man. His face is that of a sphinx. He works persistently into distance, feinting the while in a short, snappy way to draw a lead.

Leon, as graceful as a fawn, and moving shiftily about, breaks to the right, left or rear often, and then works with those tangling feints for the opening. He is wary, crafty and quick as a flash to avoid danger.
...

 

The last several ones from NY Evening Journal, I'm not 100% sure as they are unsigned, but it is quite likely they were penned by Paul Armstrong, later a famous playwright, although he usually signed his write-ups as "Right Cross", but, perhaps, not every one was signed. He definitely wrote boxing for NY Journal (morning or evening editions) in 1898. Later other good sporting writers used that pen name when they wrote about boxing for NY Journal (John McConaughy, William McGeehan, James Bagley, Louis Lee Arms, Wilmot Griffin).
https://missouriencyclopedia.org/index.php/people/armstrong-paul