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The headlline was over an AP story datelined
March 13. There was nothing unusual about the headline or the story, eighty
year old men die every day. In fact when you reach that age, it can be
fairly understood that you're not only on the "back nine" of life, but,
indeed, you're probably "putting out on 18". What attracted my attention
about the headline was it concerned a fighter named Harry Matthews. The
headline read "Harry 'The Kid' Matthews, boxer who fought Marciano dies at
80". It took me a moment, but I soon got it. What was troubling was that
during his career, Harry Matthews was never known as "The Kid", he was
always Harry "Kid" Matthews and he was so much more than a boxer who had
once fought Rocky Marciano. Thus, sadly, at the end, Harry Matthews was
eulogized by an AP writer who probably never saw him fight and maybe never
really heard of him and that's a shame. Worse, probably the vast majority of
the people reading the story didn't recognize the Harry Matthews name and
that's an even bigger shame. A shame, but nonetheless understandable,
because Harry Matthews was from a different era.
It was a time where a career in boxing deserved the label. Harry Matthews
fought, professionally, for more than twenty years, starting in 1936. He
climbed into the ring 104 times and walked out a winner 87 times, 61 by
knockout. Today, those "stats" would represent the combined careers of two,
probably three top fighters. Harry Matthews' era was a time when a fighter
would fight sometimes fifteen times in a calendar year, often within two or
three weeks. It was a era when there was only eight championship belts and
the title meant exactly that; the fighter was the champion of all those
competing at a given weight at a given time. Harry Matthews was from a
different era.
It was a time when if a fighter moved from one weight division to another it
was a major move, not some slender excursion from "junior" to "super" weight
class. In 1952, while still competing as one of the prime light heavyweight
fighters in the world, Matthews moved up into the heavyweight division to
challenge for the title. The way to the title went thru a devastating
slugger from Brockton, MA, Rocky Marciano, in retrospect one of the "holy
trinity of fearsome heavyweight punchers, along with a young Mike Tyson and
Jack Dempsey. Following a brief campaign as a heavyweight, Matthews and
Marciano came together in a "heavyweight elimination" match in the storied
old ballpark in the Bronx, New York, Yankee Stadium. On that steamy July
night in 1952, Matthews took the first round and then, possibly with a bit
of "Billy Conn brio", tried to trade punches with the Brockton slugger and
didn't finish the second round. Two months later, Marciano won the
heavyweight title from Jersey Joe Walcott. As part of his "training" for the
Marciano, Matthews fight took a fight with another leading heavyweight
contender. Seven weeks prior to the Marciano bout, Matthews went ten tough
rounds to a win over a very good Salt Lake City fighter named Rex Layne.
Imagine the difficulty it would be convincing a modern day fighter to take a
fight like that seven weeks prior to the biggest fight of their career.
Harry Matthews was from a different era.
It was a time, 1951, when Matthews, still campaigning as a light heavyweight
fought a bout with one of the hardest hitters in the division, a southpaw
knockout artist from San Diego, Irish Bob Murphy. It was early in the year,
in the mecca of boxing at the time, Madison Square Garden in New York. The
bout was part of the Friday Night Fight Series on national TV and I remember
being allowed to stay up late to watch the fight as Bob Murphy was a
particular favorite of my father. I also have no trouble remembering several
things about the fight: Matthews and Murphy began hitting each other from
the opening bell and didn't seem to stop until ten rounds were complete and
never, not once, in the entire fight, did the fighters come together in a
clinch. Jimmy Powers was doing the blow-by-blow on TV in those days and I
remember he actually lost his voice in the later rounds as he was forced to
shout above a frenzied Garden crowd that only sat down between rounds.
Matthews won the decision and Murphy was never the same fighter after that
bout. Joey Maxim, the light heavyweight champion, had been scheduled to
fighter the winner. Maxim, wisely, took Murphy instead in August of that
year and won easily over 15 rounds. Harry Matthews never did get a chance
with Maxim. Harry Matthews was from a different era.
It was a time when fighters continued to take on top flight opposition right
to the end of their careers. In 1954, as his time in the ring was winding
down, Matthews fought the highly regarded Englishman, Don Cockell, not once,
but twice, within the space of five weeks, losing both times, once by
decision, once by a late KO. Harry Matthews had been fighting for over 18
years when he fought Europe's best heavyweight twice in just over a month.
Harry Matthews didn't go easily into the "good night" of retirement. Harry
Matthews was from a different era.
That was the reason the headline announcing Harry Matthews' "final ten
count" brought me up short. It was sad that the AP got it wrong as far as
"Kid" Matthews' last story was concerned. He deserved to go out with a much
better farewell from a national news agency. Instead the story got his
nickname wrong and defined his career by one losing fight in a ballpark in
New York. Harry Matthews was, indeed, from another era. He was from, and of,
a long gone era in boxing that will never been seen again. It was an era
when fighters like Harry "Kid" Matthews were called "pugs". On reflection,
there should have been a better name for them, a much better name.
Bernie McCoy
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