BOXING’S GREATEST WARS, PART IV: THROUGH THE ROPES!
100 YEARS AGO, JACK DEMPSEY AND LUIS FIRPO SCORED ELEVEN KNOCKDOWNS IN FIVE MINUTES
by Kenneth Bridgham
For this series, I will be looking back at the most trying battles in ring history, picking one for each decade of the gloved era, beginning in the 1890s.
To read my earlier entries in this series, click below:
September 14, 1923
Polo Grounds. New York, NY, USA
No single title today can compete with the prestige that came with being the world's heavyweight champion a century ago. Jack Dempsey, the reigning champion, was possibly the most famous man in the Western World, certainly more recognizable than U.S. President Calvin Coolidge. He made more money in single fights than the entire New York Yankees team (including Babe Ruth) did in an entire year. He participated in boxing’s first million-dollar gates. He was a film star. He was married to one of the great sex symbols of the day, Estelle Taylor. And he was the most fearsome, exciting heavyweight champion boxing had known.
Born William Harrison Dempsey on June 24, 1895, the man who would be Jack took his nom de guerre from a middleweight champion of the prior century, Jack Dempsey, who was known to his contemporaries as “The Nonpareil.” (Ironically, even that Jack Dempsey wasn’t really a Jack Dempsey — his birth name was John Kelly.) William-turned-Jack was a scrapper from the outset, mixing it up with his brother Johnny as a kid. What else was there to do for fun as the sons of a poor, alcoholic laborer on the dry, high plans of the Mormon village of Manassa, Colorado?
As soon as he was old enough — sixteen — Dempsey went into the world on his own with one goal: to become the heavyweight champion of the world. Initially taking on the name Kid Blackie, he spent the following years riding the rails and bouncing between mining and lumber camps boxing adults, and living off the meager money offered. The majority of these fights went unrecorded and are not part of his professional record. By 1915, he was calling himself Jack Dempsey, and two years later, he had Jack Kearns as a manager.
Under Kearns’s guidance, “The Manassa Mauler” rose from a wandering pug of minor renown into the biggest sensation in boxing. A born hustler, Kearns found the big name opponents, and Dempsey bashed them down with frightening ease. A streak of quick and sensational knockouts over a period of roughly two years culminated with Dempsey’s shocking demolition of the gigantic Jess Willard for the heavyweight title on July 4, 1919, over three rounds in Toledo, Ohio. By the Summer of 1923, he had defended his championship four times, most notably knocking out France’s Georges Carpentier in 1921 in front of a crowd of roughly 80,000 that paid a record gate of $1.8 million. Carpentier did not make it out of the fourth round. Dempsey put the tiger’s roar in the Roaring Twenties.
By May 1923, Jess Willard, the man Dempsey had beaten up to win the championship, was looking to mount a comeback. He entered an elimination tournament to determine Dempsey’s next challenger. The final fight of the tournament, held on July 12, found him matched with Argentina’s Luis Angel Firpo, the heavyweight champion of South America.
Legend had it that Firpo had been a drug store clerk back in Buenos Aires before cashing in on his size (at over 6'2" tall and weighing between 210 and 220 pounds, he was considered a giant in the era) in the boxing ring in 1917. Firpo was a raw, unskilled fighter who was allegedly averse to training and very fond of food. But he could punch, particularly with his clubbing right.
After the big Argentenian first set foot on American soil in 1922, iconic sportswriter Damon Runyon dubbed him “The Wild Bull of Pampas.” A big heavyweight who can punch will always put butts in seats, and Dempsey’s promoter Tex Rickard was featuring the latest giant in Madison Square Garden bouts. And on July 12, 1923, Firpo wore down the aged Willard to an eighth-round stoppage over eight abysmal rounds of clumsy clinching, mauling, and plodding in Jersey City. Incredibly, a huge crowd of somewhere between 75,000–82,000 spectators turned out to witness this “Battle of the Giants.”
Firpo was big. He was strong, and he hit hard. He was also now a hero to Latin Americans everywhere. But no objective observer thought him a threat to the most powerful and ferocious man yet to set foot in a boxing ring.
All through the month preceding the match, sports sections were filled with reports of Firpo refusing to train. Despite most of the sports world identifying the coming fight as a “set up” for Dempsey, one newspaperman thought he had a sure-fire strategy for a Firpo victory. When fighting Dempsey, “all he’ll have to do will be forget that he’s fighting, think he’s eating — there’ll be a new heavyweight champion.”
Despite the impression of most that the challenger stood no chance, the excitement of a Dempsey title fight of any kind drew interest. So did the freakish size of his challenger. Tex Rickard sold standing room at New York’s Polo Grounds, selling out all 85,000 seats and allowing hundreds more to squeeze into the aisles and any other spaces they could find. Among those lucky enough to get tickets were Babe Ruth, Jess Willard, Florenz Ziegfeld, and two sons of Teddy Roosevelt. The gate was estimated at $1.2 million.
Outside, a crowd almost as large milled about angrily, unable to get into the sold-out event. Some had been waiting since the prior day. Police estimated that 150,000 people had turned out for the match. Riots broke out periodically throughout the day, forcing police into action. People were crushed and vehicles were damaged.
When the fighters arrived at the New York State Athletic Commission offices to weigh in on the morning of the fight, an onslaught of onlookers caused more property damage to the building and a nearby truck. “Hundreds were crushed in the thick mass of humanity;” reported the Times, adding that “many were trampled.” All to get a gander at Dempsey and Firpo. Mostly Firpo, said the Times. Incidentally, the 6'1" champion weighed in at 192 1/2 pounds. His challenger weighed 216 1/2 pounds.
On Friday, September 14, 1923, the moment of truth arrived. Holding to tradition, the challenger entered first, his broad-shouldered frame blanketed in a yellow and black checkered robe, under which he wore purple trunks. As was his custom, Dempsey entered the ring without a robe, but he did wear a hooded sweater buttoned around his torso. His trunks, also as customary, were white.
Dempsey kept to another custom in charging as if by impulse out of his corner at the sound of the bell. He came face to face with Firpo about three-quarters of the way across the ring and let loose his trademark punch, a left hook to the head. It managed to graze his target, but he caught a quick simultaneous left from Firpo. As much from the velocity of his own shot as from the impact of his opponent’s, Jack’s left knee buckled and hit the mat. He collapsed into Firpo’s chest as the challenger retreated into the ropes.
Though he rose before the referee could start a count, it was a knockdown scored about two seconds into the match and the first time Jack Dempsey had touched the canvas as a champion. He later said he remembered nothing of the fight after that moment. Everything that followed was instinct.
Pandemonium exploded in the crowd already. Some temporary ringside seats collapsed in the chaos, causing welterweight champion Mickey Walker to fall on top of Babe Ruth. The pair of athletes nearly got into a brawl of their own, but too much was going on in the ring for them to look away. For, about fifteen seconds later, Dempsey unloaded another, shorter left hook. Some said it went into Firpo’s hairy chest. Others saw it crash against his head. It’s hard to tell from the jumpy fight film. Either way, it sent him to his hands and knees. The “Wild Bull of the Pampas” had never been down before.
Firpo lifted his big frame upright by the count of eight and wrapped the oncoming champion in his big arms. When referee Johnny Gallagher separated them, Firpo stepped back and tried to catch Dempsey with a telegraphed right uppercut. As Dempsey crouched, the blow disappeared somewhere underneath his shoulder and they fell into another clinch. Separated again, Firpo tried once more to tie his man up, but only tied up one of Jack’s arms. His right arm free, Dempsey fired away until Firpo went to all fours a second time.
“Now, Jack! Go get him now! Now!” Kearns shouted from the champion’s corner. And get him, Dempsey did. Less than ten seconds after Firpo rose, he flopped to the floor again, the victim of Dempsey’s left hook. Then another left, this time to the ribs, produced a fourth knockdown. Firpo lay sprawled out on his back, his chest heaving. As Gallagher counted the seconds away, the fight looked to be over. Incredibly, the big man rolled over on his stomach and made it to his feet just before the count of nine.
Dempsey came rampaging in for the kill but caught multiple thrashing right hands from his desperate challenger. As reporter Frank G. Menke later described it, “Dempsey’s body quivered, his legs buckled, and stumbled forward, his hands went to the floor.” Dempsey righted himself before the ref could start his count.
After resetting himself, Dempsey continued pressing the fight. A left-right combination sent Firpo to his knees. He immediately rose, and Dempsey nailed him directly in the face with a half-hearted left uppercut. Down for a sixth time inside of the first round, Firpo tumbled to his side. He clambered up and tagged Dempsey with a quick right hand then muscled the champion backward to the ropes before backpedaling himself to the other side of the ring.
When Dempsey pursued, Firpo seemed to realize that he needed to do something to turn the fight or at least get the champion’s respect. In keeping with his nickname, he went wild, unleashing nine outrageously looping right hands. They were telegraphed and not all landed cleanly, but they put Jack on the defensive. As Dempsey withdrew to the ropes under the assault, Firpo savagely clubbed away. The final right was more of a push than a punch, and Dempsey went over backward through the ring ropes and onto the table of reporters’ typewriters at ringside.
“Push me back. I gotta get back,” he ordered no one in particular. Someone at ringside obeyed the order and gave the champ a hand in climbing back up through the ropes around the count of nine. It was technically an illegal move, and Dempsey should have been disqualified. A fighter must rise unaided from a knockdown, but Gallagher ignored the rule, and the fighters went right back to brawling.
“Never did a man look more bewildered,” Menke later recalled. For several seconds, the disoriented Dempsey was in deep trouble as his challenger strafed him with more thudding right hands, but as the round came to its close, he was once again asserting himself and throwing punches. The most thrilling first round in the history of the sport was over. James Cruisinberry of the Daily News later called it, “the greatest round of battling seen since prehistoric times.”
Panic dominated Dempsey’s corner. Kearns couldn’t find the smelling salts to revive his delirious fighter. He and another cornerman were cursing each other. Once they poured ice water on him, Dempsey thought he was awaking after being knocked out and asked what round it happened in. Informed that the fight was still on, he asked what round it was. “Second,” shouted Kearns, and shoved his man into the ring at the sound of the bell.
Jack was again the aggressor from the start of round two, pummeling Firpo with lefts and rights along the ropes near the challenger’s corner. Firpo retreated to the other side of the ring. Dempsey pursued with a series of blows that made the Argentinian’s knees buckle. He held onto Dempsey but was eventually shoved off and fell to the canvas, where Gallagher counted to five before he rose. Again, Dempsey came in, but Firpo tied him up. Dempsey broke his hands free and battered his opponent’s face until Firpo fell hard onto his back.
Firpo lay with his left knee bent and the rest of him prostrate, as flattened as a slab of Argentine beef. His eyes were open but seemed lifeless. Blood cascaded out of his nose and mouth. Incredibly, he started to move around the count of seven and had rolled over and was beginning to push himself up for more when the ten count came and Gallagher signaled the end to a titanic slugfest with just under a minute gone in the second round.
In all, Firpo had been down eight times and Dempsey three times, making eleven times between them. Sportswriting legend Grantland Rice called it “the most sensational fighting ever seen back through all the ages of the ancient game.”
The next day, Harry Newman of the Daily News called Dempsey “the champion boxer of the universe.” His fall out of the ring remains one of the most talked-about moments in the history of sport. He should have been disqualified by the rules, but instead, the push from those ringside helped him prove his mettle against a fearsome foe and keep his belt. But he did not emerge unscathed. “I had to go to the hospital after,” he told Peter Heller decades later. “I tore my whole backside open.”
Dempsey reveled in his riches and celebrity and put his title on ice until he lost it in a shocking upset to Gene Tunney in 1926. After failing to recover the championship in a highly anticipated rematch the next year, he retired. He was a successful boxing promoter, served the country in the military during World War II, and ran a very popular New York restaurant in later years. A beloved figure for the rest of his post-boxing life, he died on May 31, 1983 at age 87.
Firpo needed no hospital care after the fight but dismal performances against Harry Wills and Charley Weinert in 1924 soured the American public on him. After the press made a big deal of his out-of-wedlock sexual relationship with a lady friend, he left the country in disgust and returned to Argentina. An ill-advised 1936 comeback went nowhere, but Firpo remained the most famous Argentenian not named Peron until his death on August 7, 1960 at age 65.
Sources:
“Crowd of 90,000 Below Record.” New York Times. 9/15/1923.
“Crowds Mob Firpo After Weighing In.” New York Times. 9/15/1923.
“Fightingest-Eatingest Pulilist to Escape the Argentine Wilds.” Binghamton Press. August 8, 1923.
“Firpo Felled Ten Times.” New York Times. 9/15/1923.
“Mob Fights for Tickets.” New York Times. 9/15/1923.
Callis, Tracy. A Brief History of the Heavyweights 1881–2010. 2013.
Crusinberry, James. “Best Fight Since Man was a Beast.” New York Daily News. 9/15/1923.
Heller, Peter. “In This Corner…!” 42 World Champions Tell Their Stories. 1973.
Johnston, Alexander. Ten — and Out! 1943.
Khan, Roger. A Flame of Pure Fire: Jack Dempsey and the Roaring ’20s. 1999.
Menke, Frank G. “Dempsey-Firpo.” The Fireside Book of Boxing. 1961.
Newman, Harry. “Dempsey K.O.s Firpo in Second.” New York Daily News. 9/15/1923.
