The ten Heavyweight title fights you must see in your lifetime

Howdy all, what with work cracking down on internet access (pretty bad of 'em, really!), thought I'd get this one posted before hitting the sack and maybe, just maybe, I might have a few comments to come back to tomorrow evening!

Part seven of eight in the series now, and it's the blue ribbon division to be covered this time, the Heavyweights. You all know the drill by now - each fight contains the 'skinny', a run through of the fight as I saw it, and also my reasons for picking it and placing it where I have in the list. As ever, I've only used fights which can be viewed in full on YouTube in case anyone who hasn't seen them wishes to.....Alright, so I've cheated a wee bit on one of them (available, at best, in an edited version which includes footage from all rounds, but only sixty to ninety seconds of them), but it was a fight that I just couldn't leave out, really!

Bit rushed, this one, so you'll have to forgive the odd daft error which has crept in!

Anyway, it's all there below for anyone who is interested. Cheers, lads.

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# 10 - Floyd Patterson W KO 6 Ingemar Johansson, World title, 1961

The skinny: This was the third meeting between Floyd Patterson and Ingemar Johansson, and their first two fights, which had both seen the world title switch hands, had been all about two punches; firstly, Johansson's right hand, nicknamed 'Ingo's Bingo', which had devastated Patterson to a shock defeat in 1959 as he found himself floored six times in the third round, and then Patterson's own dazzlingly fast left hook, which had left his Swedish opponent out cold in the fifth round of their rematch a year later. Now, the men who'd shared very, very different experiences of the 1952 Olympics in Helsinki (Patterson sped his way to Middleweight gold, while Johansson briefly became a national disgrace in Sweden after being disqualified for "not trying" in the Heavyweight final against Ed Sanders) would slug it out for a third time to see who really was the better man.

If the spectators, punters and writers were unsure of which man that was before the opening bell, then they can't have been much more confidence after a topsy-turvy opening three minutes - Ingo's Bingo was thrown, Patterson couldn't pull back quickly enough from it, and down the champion went. Patterson shot up quickly. Too quickly you could argue, as he was still all over the place as Johansson pushed for the finish, with the clearly physically stronger and more imposing Swede half left-hooking, half shoving the lithe Patterson down again moments later. Patterson made it up once more, and this time, as Johansson chased him to the ropes to try and end things, found an angle to bonce off them and deliver a beautifully-crafted, short left hand to the point of the Swede's chin - and this time, it was Johansson on the deck, and Johansson who was forced to eat another solid left after beating the count in order to see out the round.

Johansson's head was still groggy in the second despite the sixty second break - a right from the champion had him holding on, but Patterson too was feeling flustered, his desire to finish things as quickly as possible resulting in him swinging so wildly that he turned himself full circle and fell to the canvas. With both men fighting at a pace most Heavyweights can't even dream of, it was Patterson's blurring hand speed against the inside mauling of Johansson, who looked much more at home at close quarters. Johansson, finding it increasingly hard to find Patterson's bobbing and weaving head with the jab, was sent reeling by a good left hook towards the end of the third, but managed to put the American in reverse for the first time in a while in the fourth, rocking him with a nice left-right combination to the body and then head. Undeterred, Patterson replied with a real bit of class at the end of the round, using his stunning hand speed to fire off three clean body shots followed by a perfect right to the jaw, and then doing the same just moments later, only this time finishing with a left.

But Johansson was sucking it up, and when the challenger from Gothenburg started to get his jab going again in the fifth, doubling and tripling it to good effect, Floyd must have been wondering what he had to do to get rid of his rival - even more so in the early goings of the sixth when he was stopped in his tracks by a big left. However, a quick right uppercut stopped the rot and then, out of nowhere, came the finish. Patterson leapt in with his famed left - it didn't land right on the money, but still forced Johansson to lean in to Patterson for a clinch. And when he did, Patterson saw his chance, and took it. Two quick rights up close landed to the head, and down went Johansson. He came desperately close to beating the count, but wasn't quite ready to defend himself and fight as the referee reached 'ten', signalling the end of a great fight and an even greater trilogy.

Why it's here: Before this fight, Floyd Patterson had already grabbed one slice of boxing history, having become the first man to regain the Heavyweight title when he squared his series with Johansson at 1-1. One other, though less welcome, distinction he held was being the man who took more counts than anyone else in Heavyweight title fights - 17 of them, to be precise. However, as he himself said, "If I hold the record for being knocked down more than any other Heavyweight champion, then I must also hold the record for getting back up." And indeed, those powers of stubbornness and will were on show in this wildly exciting fight. All three of their bouts were riotous affairs, but it was this third and final chapter which gave the series closure, and gave Patterson arguably his finest night in boxing.



# 9 - Rocky Marciano W KO 13 Jersey Joe Walcott, World title, 1951

The skinny: It had taken Jersey Joe Walcott at least twenty-one years to win the Heavyweight title; he'd toppled Ezzard Charles with a devastating knockout at the third time of trying in 1951 to become the holder of the greatest title in sports, and his official record stretched all the way back to 1930, although there is evidence to suggest that he was boxing even before that. And having toiled for so long to reach the top spot, he wasn't about to be knocked off it easily, as Rocky Marciano found out in Philadelphia in this September 1952 bout.

Marciano, the stocky, crude but immensely powerful and durable Italian-American, hadn't even taken up boxing seriously until the age of 23, having previously hoped to make the grade in baseball. But boasting a 42-0 record, embellished by 37 knockouts, he had been installed as a 9-5 favourite to take the crown against the 38-year-old champion. So you can imagine how surprised the crowd within the Municipal Stadium must have been when, barely a minute in, Marciano lumbered sluggishly in to a short left hook from the champion and went down to the canvas - for the first time in his career, no less.

The challenger, despite taking another good right from Walcott, recovered well and looked to maul on the inside for the rest of the round, as if to test the champion's strength (Marciano was giving away 10 lb in weight, two inches in height and seven inches in reach), but he couldn't get to grips with the wily old Walcott who, as one sportswriter put it, was "boxing with the legs of a twenty year old." Walcott's smooth upper body movement had Marciano missing by wide margins in the second and third rounds, and all the time he kept peppering the knockout puncher with his jab, a punch which seemed to be totally missing from Rocky's arsenal to this point.

Marciano finally got Walcott where he wanted him - the ropes - in the fourth, and when he opened his account two rounds later with a solid left hook, forcing Walcott to cover up temporarily, those who had put down money on his expected triumph began to relax a little. The classy work continued to come from the champion - his use of the ropes, drawing Marciano in before bouncing off them to counter with the right hand two times over was the highlight of the seventh - whereas Marciano was relying on a much less pretty tactic, namely walking through whatever Walcott had to offer, and even managing to time and evade the jab for a little while in doing so throughout the eighth.

Marciano, finally, started throwing a jab of sorts in the ninth and tenth, and there seemed to be signs that Walcott was tiring. But perhaps the crafty old champion was just holding something back, as he suddenly slipped in to a new gear and began to turn the screw. His legs seemed reinvigorated in the eleventh, as he slid away from Marciano's fire power and caught his crouching opponent with two hard right hands, delivered positively downwards to Rocky's skull, and the round ended with Marciano taking two more flush lefts, similar to the one which had put him down earlier. When Marciano, his left eye closing, could do little but miss with tired-looking, wild swings and walk on to flush jabs in the twelfth, all seemed lost, and all Walcott had to do was survive three more rounds to go home with his title.

And then, in the thirteenth round, it came. Arguably the most famous single punch in boxing history. It was a blitzing right hand, travelling no more than twelve inches, delivered by Marciano and detonating on Walcott's jaw. The millisecond it landed, the fight was over. As Walcott, as though he'd been filleted, crumpled to the floor, Marciano grazed his head with a follow up left, but it was immaterial. With just one, crunching shot, Marciano had produced the knockout, nicked the victory from the jaws of defeat and, with it, the Heavyweight title of the world.

Why it's here: Although boxing fans and historians will forever argue about how special Rocky Marciano's 49-0 record was (or was not, if you're on that side of the fence), one undeniable truth is that, to this very day, it remains one of the most iconic and well-known magical figures in sporting history, not just boxing history. And likewise, to this day, he remains the only Heavyweight champion to have left the sport without a single blemish on his record. As such, this fight was, effectively, the birth of a sporting legend. On top of that, has any other single punch in history commanded the affections, memories and opinions of boxing fans the world over?



# 8 - Michael Moorer W TKO 5 Bert Cooper, WBO title, 1992

The skinny: Michael Moorer had already claimed one little piece of boxing history in 1988, when he'd become the first ever Light-Heavyweight champion as represented by the then newly-formed WBO. Four years later, and plenty of pounds heavier, he was looking to achieve another first, this time being the first southpaw to claim a portion of the Heavyweight title. Not that many boxing historians were impressed - the WBO title carried little weight, particularly Stateside, in the early nineties, and a lack of unification fights between the organization's first two champions, Francisco Damiani and Ray Mercer, with the 'real' champions such as Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield, had been seen as no great loss to anyone. Nevertheless, Moorer's opponent for the vacant belt, the big-punching but also crude Bert Cooper, had delivered good fights before, and another was expected in Atlantic City.

However, the opening round showed that it wasn't going to be a good fight - it was going to be a great one. Both men got stuck in to it right away, Moorer abandoning his superior pure boxing skills and banking that he could take whatever Cooper dished out and return it with interest. However, he must have been wondering if there was any wisdom in that decision when, not even a minute in, Cooper forced him to the ropes, made his legs wobble with a clubbing right hand and then forced him to slump down to the ropes with the follow up attack. Moorer, who was up at six but visibly all over the place, was thrown some valuable extra seconds when referee Joe O'Neil turned to Cooper to order him back to a neutral corner at six, and he also seemed to take longer than was absolute necessary to wipe down Moorer's gloves before the action resumed.

An undeterred Cooper had just one thing in mind, bossing his way back inside, but when he did he found himself being staggered by a sharp one-two by the former Light-Heavyweight titlist, and moments later it was his turn to visit the canvas, taking a huge right hook in the middle of an exchange on the ropes which he'd left himself wide open for. Fighting without his mouthpiece now, Cooper was soon back on his feet and fighting the only way he knew, looking to switch his crude but immensely dangerous right hand between head and body, but another right by Moorer had him on unsteady legs before, bizarrely, O'Neil called a halt to the action with just twelve seconds left of the round to replace the missing mouthpiece - an annoyance for Moorer, but a welcome respite for Cooper. And in the final seconds, they even found time to rock each other once more with deadly right hooks.

Again, technique and range finding went out the window in the second as Moorer, perhaps fighting a little too much with his heart and not enough with his head, stuck to Cooper like glue, finding himself outlanded by a 2:1 ratio despite throwing some dazzling uppercuts himself with his back firmly to the ropes. That's exactly where Moorer found himself again in the third, and it seemed that the sheer blunt force trauma of Cooper's shots was just becoming too much, a series of straight shots forcing Moorer's high guard apart and keeling him over to the floor for a second time. After tumbling back down on his first attempt to rise, Moorer made it back up on unsteady legs, and called upon his deepest reserves of will to see out the round as Cooper, sensing that he was about to cause an upset as he'd nearly done against Evander Holyfield a year before, again backed his man up at every opportunity, and at an alarming pace, too.

Time and space for either man to think was still at a premium in the fourth, but when it did come along it was Moorer making better use of it, a beautifully-crafted left to the ribs clearly taking some of the wind out of Cooper's sails, and the young man from Philadelphia also produced some classy in-fighting, a tighter defence allowing him extra windows of opportunities to counter Cooper's wide, uneducated shots.

Cooper seemed to be on top in the fifth, backing Moorer menacingly to the corner and repeatedly clubbing him around the back and side of the head with all his might, but as in round four, Moorer was probing for the right opening. And when it came, he made no mistake, a sharp, hard right stopping his opponent in his tracks and then intelligently turning defence in to attack, fighting his way off the ropes with three successive lefts and spinning Cooper to the corner where he'd previously had Moorer pinned down. Moorer let go with a huge right uppercut which had Cooper on the edge, and the follow up left put him down, the fourth knockdown of the night. Cooper seemed aware of everything around him by '3', but curiously left it very late to rise, doing so at '9' and, oddly enough, seeming to shake his head towards his corner and referee O'Neil, as if to say he'd had enough. Seemingly left with no other option, O'Neil waved the fight off, and Moorer's unbeaten professional record had survived an epic slugfest. Just.

Why it's here: With Evander Holyfield and Riddick Bowe fighting out a masterpiece for the true Heavyweight title later in 1992, this was a fight which went under the radar somewhat, so what better time than now to give it a well-deserved moment in the sun? Although Moorer himself soon relinquished the WBO belt due to his "retarding" his career, this fight went quite a way towards proving that the former 175 pounder had a chance of emulating Michael Spinks as a Light-Heavyweight champion who went on to conquer the Heavyweight ranks, which he eventually did for real in 1994, when he outscored Holyfield over twelve rounds. As I've said before, too, technical master classes and boxing chess are both great, but so too are slug fests - and they don't come much better than this.



# 7 - Joe Louis W KO 13 Billy Conn, World title, 1941

The skinny: Despite boasting a fine 58-8-1 record, Billy Conn wasn't expected to give Heavyweight champion Joe Louis too much trouble when they clashed at the Polo Grounds, New York on June 8, 1941. First off, of Conn's 58 career victories, only 12 had come inside-schedule. Next came the issue of weight; a career Light-Heavyweight fighter, Conn scaled a mere 174 lb to Louis' 199 lb, which was actually considerably lighter than most had expected the champion to come in at.

But the good news for Conn was that he was no ordinary Light-Heavyweight; he was the current champion of that weight class and, while the smart money said that Louis would retain his Heavyweight title in this, his eighteenth defence, the Irish-American's neat boxing skills had at least made him the shortest-priced challenger to Louis since Max Schmeling three years earlier - he was considered 18-5 in the weeks leading up to the fight, and there was even word of those odds being slashed to 11-5 come fight night. And though he'd only accumulated 12 stoppage wins, he was on a roll of four in succession coming in to this bout.

Louis had famously said of Conn, an artistic boxer blessed with nimble feet, beforehand that "he can run, but he can't hide", and so probably wasn't too worried when the challenger safely jabbed and moved his way through the first round. And when Louis, by now known the world over by his fitting nickname 'The Brown Bomber' had his man hurt and holding on more than one occasion in round two, there seemed to be little sign of the trouble ahead for the champion, 27 years old and in the prime of his life.

The third round proved a turning point, with Conn realising that he could not only outbox Louis, but also that he could hurt him too, and he did so two times over, first with a left hook to the body and then again with a thundering right cross. Louis managed to find an excellent left hook at the end of what had been a largely disappointing fourth round prior to that shot, and when his pressure began cutting off the ring space for Conn throughout five and six, it seemed that the champion had everything under control once more.

However, he didn't. Finding himself rocked by a left hook in the seventh, peppered with quick, accurate combinations as he lumbered in throughout the eighth and then chasing shadows in the ninth, it was becoming apparent to all inside the Polo Grounds that, unless Louis came up with something magical soon, the title was about to change hands. Nobody knew this better than Louis' long-time trainer, the legendary Jack Blackburn, who told his charge after ten rounds, "You're losing this thing on points, Joe - you've got to knock him out."

But Conn, enjoying the greatest night of his career and seemingly on the verge of becoming the first 175 lb champion to step up and successfully challenge for the Heavyweight crowd, had a knockout on his mind, too. Buoyed by his own wonderful performance so far, and the fact that Louis, reportedly drained from the strain of coming in at under 200 lb so as not to give boxing fans too much of an excuse to criticise him for facing a significantly smaller man in Conn, looked as if he was beginning to tire, the challenger completely let his hands go. He was almost like a forerunner for Meldrick Taylor in the eleventh, standing toe to toe with Louis right in the pocket and dazzling the champion with quicksilver combinations, and then when he staggered Louis with another big left in the twelfth, it became clear that Conn, barring any serious mishaps, was just three more rounds away from making history.

But if Conn wasn't weary and superstitious of the number thirteen beforehand, he must surely have been after the thirteenth round on this night. Again high on confidence, Conn met Louis' charge head on, and was soon forced to take a huge right hand, the follow up to which sent him staggering to the ropes. True to form, Conn rallied gamely, but this was Louis' territory and, with his man now hurt and in his sights, he closed the show with the kind of precision you'd expect from a fighter who carved out a reputation as arguably the finest finisher of his time. A thumping right hand set Conn up for the final onslaught - a short right inside, right on the button, and down went Conn, almost turning full circle as he did. He so nearly beat the count, and had he done, with just two seconds left in the round when referee Eddie Joseph reached 'ten', he'd almost certainly have lived to fight another day. But as it was, he'd been handed the most heart breaking defeat of his life, just two rounds away from the Heavyweight championship of the world.

Why it's here: Given that boxing is, at its best, always a high drama affair, it's only natural that amongst the glorious winners who we all love to remember, there are also your fair share of nearly men, and unfortunately for Billy Conn, this defeat will forever make him an automatic consideration for that bracket, despite his Light-Heavyweight title. That's the beautiful, bitter-sweet element of boxing - it's an emotional old sport at times. While Louis, who once more showed the very definition of a champion's heart by turning a desperate situation in to victory, found himself showered with superlatives from his adoring fans and the press, Conn was left to rue a cruel defeat from which he never really recovered. Fights like this serve to remind us that, truly, a fight is never over until it's over. And as a rueful Billy Conn was left to say, many years later, "Of all the times I could pick to be a wise guy, I had to go and pick it against him."



# 6 - Jack Dempsey W KO 2 Luis Angel Firpo, World title, 1923

The skinny: In 1923, Jack Dempsey had experienced two very different levels of financial success in his previous two defences of the world Heavyweight title. His 1921 clash with the Frenchman, Georges Carpentier, had become the first boxing match to draw a gate of over $ 1 million. His next defence after that, however, against Tommy Gibbons, had famously bankrupted the small town of Shelby, Montana. More worryingly, however, was a lack of legitimate and financially viable Heavyweight opposition. Both Carpentier and Gibbons were worthy of contesting the title, but both were smaller men than Dempsey, and natural 175 pounders.

So when Luis Angel Firpo of Argentina, nicknamed by Damon Runyon as 'The Wild Bull of the Pampas', came along, Dempsey must have thought all of his prayers had been answered. A genuine Heavyweight, standing 6'3" and scaling around 220 lb, Firpo was made up of the right ingredients which made a big star in the roaring twenties. Handsome, of Italian parentage to make him a sure-fire hit with America's huge Italian community, and also a box office puncher, who had made his name by flattening an ageing Jess Willard and also Bill 'KO' Brennan. The interest in the fight was highlighted by the purses; Dempsey received over $ 500,000, while Firpo as challenger cleared over $ 200,000, then the highest purse ever received by a challenger in a Heavyweight title fight. Moreover, 80,000 or so paying spectators turned up at the Polo Grounds in New York - another gate in excess of $ 1 million.

And between them, Dempsey and Firpo but on a show, albeit a brief one, which merited such lofty sums. As was his custom, Dempsey tore in to his challenger with a disdainful assault at the earliest opportunity, and soon had Firpo half thrown, half punched to the deck with his left hand. Standing directly over him as he rose, as per the rules at the time, Dempsey was all over his man without hesitation, and as Firpo tried to hold to clear his head, Dempsey surprised him with two evil left uppercuts at close quarters. Firpo was down again for a second count. Once more, the big man from Argentina tried to hold, but this time it was the body that Dempsey wanted, and three crunching hooks to it made it three knockdowns in barely a minute.

But he wasn't finished there. Another short hook to the body felled Firpo yet again, and this time he only just made it up before the count of ten. And when he did rise, Dempsey scored with another right to the body - and yet again, Firpo hit the deck.

It almost came as a shock when, shock horror, Firpo actually managed to land a punch after than onslaught. Even more surprisingly, it was a pretty good one, too - a big right as Dempsey rushed in and got a little careless. But it was business as usual soon enough, a right upstairs pitching the challenger to the floor once again, and after he was put there for a seventh time, Dempsey nonchalantly stepped over him, feeling sure that the fight must now be over. Somehow, it wasn't. And in fact, its most famous moment was still to come.

Dempsey, naturally, came rushing in, but found himself doubled up and forced back to the ropes by a thunderous right to the body by Firpo. Dempsey couldn't roll well enough to avoid the shots and, after being clubbed with two more heavy right hands on the ropes, found himself seemingly half shoved (there was an element of Firpo's glove perhaps grabbing at his neck), half punched clean out of the ring - and on to the top of Jack Lawrence's (of the New York Tribune) typewriter.

It will forever remain a talking point that, by the letter of the law, what came next could or perhaps even should have seen Dempsey disqualified. "Help me back in there!", Dempsey is reported to have said to Lawrence. And, according to most observers, that's exactly what Lawrence did which, under strict application of the rules then in use in New York, could have resulted in Firpo winning the title in perhaps the most disappointing circumstance imaginable.

The event seemed to have totally bypassed both Firpo and referee Johnny Gallagher, however, and when the round ended Dempsey returned to his corner to be reassured by his corner man Jack 'Doc' Kearns that he'd "just slipped." (Dempsey is reported to have been so dazed that he asked Kearns what round he'd been knocked out in, although he always disputed that). Whatever the truth, when the bell for the second round sounded, Dempsey seemed even more aware that he needed to get rid of Firpo as quickly as possible, as the threat of losing his title in what would be a big upset was becoming increasingly possible.

Firpo, buoyed by his eventual first round success, met him head on, and it proved a huge error. A big left hook, followed by a quick combination to the body, saw the second round beginning exactly as the first had, with Firpo on the floor, and though he beat the count the writing was on the wall that he was running out of miracles. Firpo did the right thing, looking to hold and clear his head, but this was Dempsey at his best now, and the champion soon muscled the bigger man off, banged in a hard left- right combination to the jaw and saw his opponent fall before his feet once more. Firpo, true to form, was brave; he hauled himself off his side and tried to beat the count, but he had nothing left. This time, finally, Gallagher reached ten, and Dempsey was instantly over to help up his opponent who, as he'd later say in his autobiography, had given him the "scariest moment of his career."

Why it's here: In boxing, controversy sells. And like many of Dempsey's fights, controversy reared its head here, as part of a thrilling shootout. We love the pure boxing exhibitions, sure. But we also love those 'fastest gun in the west' kind of brawls, the 'don't blink or you'll miss it' kind of fights. Dempsey was a master of that trade, and it was fights like this which helped make him boxing's greatest attraction, as well as being, to this day, a byword for ferocity and aggression. Dempsey himself, referring to the incident when he found himself out of the ring, gave differing accounts in his later life. Initially, he stated that "Lawrence and the other writers did not assist me at all...I was able to navigate and knew what I was doing." However, he is also quoted as saying that he had no recollection of the incident, saying, "I was knocked out by the Argentinian's first punch, and carried right on fighting in my sleep." Whatever the truth, it's given us boxing fans an interesting talking point - one which we're still discussing, a whole ninety years later.



# 5 - Riddick Bowe W PTS 12 Evander Holyfield, Undisputed title, 1992

The skinny: There's an old adage in boxing which says that you can never be sure how good an unbeaten fighter is. So despite an Olympic silver medal in 1988 and, four years later, boasting an unblemished record in the pro ranks, many observers still wondered if Riddick Bowe was ready to challenge Evander Holyfield for the undisputed Heavyweight title in Last Vegas in 1992. Bowe, 25, had looked unconvincing in only just edging out an aged Tony Tubbs a few fights previously, and was installed as the underdog against the 'Real Deal', the former Cruiserweight king who was making the fourth defence of his Heavyweight title which he'd won from James 'Buster' Douglas two years previously.

Holyfield, who was spotting Bowe three inches in height, four inches in reach and 30 lb in weight, edged a high-quality first round, which saw both men trading accurate, stinging jabs as Holyfield looked to circle and Bowe, whose 235 lb frame belied his generally amiable nature, looked to hold the centre of the ring. Long range was swapped for intense inside fighting in the second, with Holyfield's short lefts and uppercuts once more winning the day, but Bowe showed what a devastating body puncher he could be in the third, making the 30-year-old champion wince on more than one occasion and ending the round with a superb one-two.

Already showing signs of being a classic, Bowe's withering body attack brought him a warning and the threat of a point deduction in the fourth, before Holyfield showed his hand in the next, working that jab again and expertly finding opportunities to counter the bigger man. However, in the middle stages, the 25-year-old challenger, looking to replace the now jailed Mike Tyson (who, incidentally, came from the same Brownsville district in New York as Bowe) as the dominant star of Heavyweight boxing, hit a new groove, and Holyfield was having trouble keeping up with him. Some sneaky inside work and a hard, fast one-two gave him the sixth, a series of right hands in the seventh froze the champion in his tracks, and it looked as if Bowe might totally run away with it in the eighth, as he turned the screw further by rolling well with Holyfield's aggressive right hand leads to take the heat off them and then countering with a booming right to the body.

But Holyfield had shown in previous wars with Dwight Muhammad Qawi, Michael Dokes and Bert Cooper that he could battle back from adversity, and the did just that in the ninth, producing out of nowhere a round of superb quality, calling upon his jab to keep the distance in his favour once more and twice rocking Bowe's head back with gorgeous counter right hands, the first time in a while he'd managed to stun his opponent.

And then came the tenth, a round which was worth the admission fee on its own. Mere moments in, when Bowe connected with an utterly devastating uppercut in the clinch, the end seemed nigh, and it seemed even closer when the follow up left sent Holyfield flailing to the corner, the ropes being the only thing holding him up. Using all of his guile, experience and, of course, warrior heart, Holyfield held, rolled, spoiled, anything he needed to do to survive. And remarkably, mid-round, he showed that he wasn't just content with survival at all. Instead, two sharp uppercuts and a big left saw Bowe having to retreat, and by the time Holyfield landed two more big rights over the top, the crowd had been worked up in to a real frenzy. Bowe, as he'd been doing all night, rammed his jab back in to Evander's face with great success, but once more Holyfield roared back with a brilliant jab-cross combination, with an additional left hook for good measure, as they brawled until the bell.

It was the defining round of the fight, and nobody knew it more than Bowe, who tapped his opponent's midriff in respect and admiration as the bell sounded.

Having come so close to victory but not quite grasping it, some may have wondered how the younger, inexperienced man would cope in the final two rounds. As it turned out, they needn't have worried. Keeping a cool head, Bowe caught the on-rushing Holyfield with two sharp right uppercuts in the eleventh, forcing his man to the floor with another punch which, upon review, may not quite have been legal, clubbing Evander around the back of the head. No matter, though, as the knockdown was called, and Holyfield was forced to play the survival game for the remainder of the round, and a head shake at the bell seemed almost to be a signal of resignation. Bowe compounded his misery, producing a fine 'clutch' round in which he tied Holyfield up at the first sign of danger and finished with a solid right hand to the jaw, and as the final bell sounded, there was no doubt about it - he was the new Heavyweight champion of the world.

Why it's here: In terms of pure talent, the nineties is the only decade which, realistically, can match the seventies when it comes to great Heavyweight eras. Sadly, boxing politics and other peripheral factors meant that we never got to see the nineties crop go head to head in their primes as often as their seventies counterparts did - but this fight, a classic for any era, was the most notable exception. It had the lot - ebb and flow, skill mixed with brute strength, a mix of styles - everything. And oddly enough, it wasn't just Bowe who finally proved himself that night; so too did Holyfield who, up until that point, hadn't fully impressed as Heavyweight champion. This defeat, and the way he bounced back from it, told the boxing world all it needed to know about Evander Holyfield, namely that he was one of the most courageous fighters of his time, and one of the great boxing entertainers of the last three decades, too.



# 4 - Muhammad Ali W TKO 14 Joe Frazier, World title, 1975

The skinny: This was the fight that the world wanted, and which boxing needed. Even when Joe Frazier floored and outpointed Muhammad Ali in a 1971 classic at Madison Square Garden, inflicting a first ever career defeat on 'The Greatest', some still continued to whisper that Smokin' Joe had been lucky that Ali's prime years of 1967-1970 had been taken from him by the US government over his refusal to be inducted in to the armed forces, and as such the animosity continued to burn inside the man born in the deep south, but who had come to personify the fighting style of his adopted hometown of Philadelphia - aggression and left hooks, lots of both. When Ali had gained revenge in a 1974 rematch before stunning Frazier's conqueror, George Foreman, on a famous night in Zaire later that year, a third and final fight with Frazier was always on the cards. A born warrior and with an ego to match his physical talents, Ali simply couldn't walk away, as he'd promised to do, without setting the record straight once and for all with Frazier, despite having so many illustrious moments behind him already.

A crowd of 25,000 gathered to watch the old rivals renew their bad blood in the capital of the Philippines, and for much of the two rounds they saw Ali, not able to dance the way he could a decade previously but still lighter on his feet than most Heavies, back away from Frazier's advances and use his jab to rack up points, although two savage left hooks from Frazier at the end of the second gave confirmation that, despite a hammering at the hands of Foreman two years previously, he was still a real threat.

The third round must have brought back uncomfortable memories of Frazier's 1971 victory in their first fight for Ali, as the shorter, more aggressive challenger forced him to cover up on the ropes as he banged in several shots to the ribs, as well as a perfect left hook to the champion's jaw. Always one to try and gain the upper hand psychologically, Ali talked to Frazier as he soaked up the shots, but it was clear for all to see that he was in for a long, and painful, night. When Frazier made Ali hold on in the fifth by doubling up his left to the body and then the head, those concerns must have felt even more acute.

Ali found some extra spring in his step in the seventh, using his legs and firing off tidy and accurate combinations of twos and threes to keep the ever-advancing Frazier off him, but the eight was a much more gruelling affair as the man from Louisville was forced to stand his ground while his old adversary attempted to club him in to submission. The two fighters spent the next rounds almost cancelling each other out; Frazier was all over Ali in the ninth, before Ali somehow found some extra snap in his shots out of nowhere in the tenth, delivering some whipping left hooks in close which even Frazier would have been proud of. Ali almost looked like Cassius Clay, his first boxing incarnation so to speak, for brief moments in the eleventh, jarring Frazier with a right hand lead combined with a short left and, after defending resolutely in the corner, clipping Frazier with a series of lefts to the head, but once more Frazier came roaring back, weaving his way in between Ali's fencing jabs and spending the twelfth round pulverising his body.

Ali, looking back on this fight, famously called his situation as the championship rounds began "the nearly room", meaning the room next to death itself. Frazier, who beforehand had said, "He can keep that pretty head - I don't want it. What I'm going to do is tear those kidneys out and make that head fall right in to his lap", had inflicted horrific punishment on him. But Frazier, who was by now spitting an awful amount of blood in between rounds, was in even worse shape, and the twelfth proved to be his final fling, effectively. Ali landed a scorching right hand early in the thirteenth which sent his mouthpiece in to the crowd, and the following left had Frazier's knees shaking, too. With both of Frazier's eyes shutting, Ali continued to pick out devastating head shots, at one stage making Frazier's legs do a backwards dance. Although Joe showed immense heart by coming back with a good hook just before the bell, that round had taken everything out of him. Throughout the fourteenth, he was jolted repeatedly by Ali's right, having to be guided back to his corner at the bell.

Ali himself was on the verge of collapse, but Frazier's corner man, the legendary Eddie Futch, had seen enough. Calmly putting his hand on the protesting Frazier's shoulder, he spoke to his beaten fighter a line which has since passed in to boxing folklore. "Sit down son, it's all over. But nobody will ever forget what you did here today." Ali has his victory, and with it closure on his rivalry with Frazier, but it had come at a heavy price for both.

Why it's here: No other rivalry in the history of Heavyweight boxing has quite matched the importance, the fame or the intensity of Ali-Frazier. Ali probably summed it up best when he said, "Without him, I couldn't be who I am, and without me, he couldn't be who he is." This fights shows, once more, that they were just made for each other in boxing terms. Both of them performed heroically, regardless of whether it was in victory or defeat, and from a historical point of view, you'd have to wonder how strong Ali's claims to being the greatest Heavyweight of the lot would have been if he hadn't have put the rubber stamp on his series against Joe. Not as strong as they are, that's for sure. Within fourteen rounds, this fight flickered between being beautiful, ugly, free-flowing, gruelling and a host of other things in between, almost like a microcosm of that unforgettable rivalry between the two combatants.



# 3 - James 'Buster' Douglas W KO 10 Mike Tyson, Undisputed title, 1990

The skinny: If you were a sucker for losing money, then you could find odds of 42-1 on James 'Buster' Douglas usurping Mike Tyson as Heavyweight champion prior to their February 1990 fight in Tokyo, Japan. That's if you looked hard enough, anyway; even the gambling capital of America, Las Vegas, wasn't interested in putting up any odds for the fight. This bout was merely just an exhibition for Tyson, ahead of a pencilled-in June 1990 mega money showdown with former Cruiserweight champion Evander Holyfield, to show once more what an awesome champion he was, while Douglas, such a low-key name that Don King refused to grant him even one complimentary ringside ticket for the fight, was there to pick up his pay cheque, get knocked out and trundle back off in to the wilderness from whence he'd come.

The only problem was, this was a different Douglas to the one who'd run out of gas and flopped unconvincingly in an IBF title fight against Tony Tucker three years previously, and who had spent most of his career simply going through the motions. He was seeking solace and comfort in the fight, using it as a bolt hole and a welcome distraction from his crippling personal woes. His wife had left him, the mother of his son was gravely ill and, most significantly of all, his own mother had passed away just 23 days before the fight. "I didn't fear Mike," Douglas said years later. "I figured whatever pain he could dish out to me was nothing compared to the pain I was feeling in my life at that time." And sure enough, when fight night came, Douglas was a trim 231 lb, a contrast to the usual overweight, uninterested fighter he'd often been before. Unlike men such as Michael Spinks and James Smith, he seemed serene and focussed before facing the Tyson hurricane.

But that was one thing - actually showing that same confidence when the bell rang would be another. But the dye was cast early; The 37-0 (33) Tyson, who had spent the previous few years cutting through the division with a savagery not seen since Joe Louis, went to clinch and maul early but, in a break from tradition, it was him who found himself outmuscled and shoved back, rather than the opponent. Douglas, using his height and reach, jabbed well in the opener and worked the body, and upped the pace in the second, out speeding the champion and catching him with sharp combinations as he came in, sometimes as many as four or five shots at a time.

Tyson showed signs of normal service resuming early in the third, intensely weaving his way inside past the jab and banging in a big left hook to the body, but where other opponents had wilted, Douglas just seemed to be growing stronger. A lovely uppercut was followed by a perfect one-two which momentarily stiffened Tyson from head to toe, and then the challenger expertly held the centre of the ring throughout the fourth, dictating the range and tempo of the fight with his jab and consistently getting punches off first, the realisation began to grow that the impossible might just be about to happen.

It wasn't until the sixth that Tyson finally got a round on the board, and when in the seventh Tyson seemed to realise he couldn't outjab or outbox Douglas but found his lunges met with only more sharp right crosses, two of which made his knees dip, panic began to grow in the champion's inexperienced corner, not helped by the face that the champion's left eye was closing rapidly.

In a situation completely new to him and effectively left to his own devices, Tyson came desperately close to rising to the challenge. After being outboxed for most of the eighth, with seconds to go he found a clean right uppercut inside out of nowhere, bang on the point of Douglas' chin. The challenger went down and knew enough to bang the floor in frustration, but left it perilously late to fully rise, doing so at 9, by which time there was no more time left in the round. Tyson and Don King would later argue that the count was long, but that was now immaterial. Douglas had survived the round, and Tyson's chance was gone.

The crowd, stunned in to near-silence in sheer disbelief at what they were seeing, watched Tyson being hammered from pillar to post throughout the ninth, Douglas twice jarring Tyson with three punch combinations before sending him tottering across the ring with a left hand. Now it was Tyson holding on for dear life, but no amount of holding could have saved him in the tenth. Douglas, as he'd done all night, patiently worked behind the jab and then, quick as a flash, uncorked the best right uppercut of his life. It detonated on the champion's chin and sent him reeling, and Douglas, remaining collected and picking his shots perfectly, delivered three more shots to finish, the last one of them being a booming left to the jaw which sent Tyson down for the first time in his career.

Tyson showed that he too had heart, rolling over on his side, desperately shoving his now displaced mouthpiece lopsidedly in to his mouth and even using referee Octavio Meyran as assistance when trying to haul himself up, but he was a beaten man, in no fit state to continue when Meyran reached ten. The reactions of those calling the fight said it all. Commentator Bob Sheridan exclaimed, "Unbelievable! Unbelievable! Unbelievable!....This has got to be, if not the, one of the biggest upsets in boxing history. " HBO's team agreed, with Larry Merchant saying, "Let's go ahead and call it THE biggest upset ever in boxing." Ten heroic rounds was all it had taken for Douglas to steer himself off the path towards obscurity and guarantee himself a place in the history books.

Why it's here: Upsets are part of what make boxing, and many other sports, so great. There are minor upsets, and there are big upsets - and then there are absolutely cataclysmic upsets, such as this. What's more, it's also one of those stories that carries a sense of magic and destiny to it; the factors beforehand which, for one fight only, served to make Douglas such a supremely focussed man, the way he flirted with defeat in the eighth round but survived to tell the tale etc. It was as if the stars aligned for Douglas to win this fight - and even if they didn't, it was quite simply one of the greatest single performances any Heavyweight champion has ever produced, in my eyes.

Meanwhile, the fight also proved to be the beginning of the end for Tyson. He won fights, even titles, again in subsequent years, but he'd never command that same fear, or give off that same air of omnipotence and invincibility, ever again. There tends to be a divide between boxing fans when we talk of Tyson, with many deeming him the greatest Heavy in history while at his peak, while others feel that he always had certain flaws which other fighters would have exploited. Only a precious few can adapt the middle ground with him, it seems. But whatever team you're in, it's this fight which adds fuel to that debate more than any other, and has inspired countless threads on boxing forums ever since their creation.



# 2 - Larry Holmes W PTS 15 Ken Norton, WBC title, 1978

The skinny: When they stepped through the ropes at Caesers Palace, Las Vegas on June 9, 1978, both Larry Holmes and Ken Norton had something of a chip on their shoulder, and something to prove. Holmes, whose whole career came dangerously close to being engulfed in bitterness at times, was still dogged by accusations that he lacked the heart to succeed in the fight game, with his amateur defeat to Duane Bobick in the final of the AAU Heavyweight finals of 1973 still being a source of ignominy to some. An unexpected points win over the fearsome-punching Earnie Shavers three months earlier, which had earned him a crack at the WBC belt, had gone some way towards silencing the doubters, but there was still work to be done.

Norton, on the other hand, had already proven himself in the professional ranks in the furnace of his three fight series against Holmes' former employer, Muhammad Ali. When, after splitting the first two bouts 1-1, Ali was given a controversial verdict in their third and final fight, in which the Heavyweight title was on the line, Norton must have felt that his chance of becoming a world champion had gone forever. However, with Ali's conqueror Leon Spinks now stripped by the WBC for his failure to defend against Norton, the former Marine found himself being upgraded from number one contender to champion on the basis of his win over Jimmy Young. That was the first part of the battle won, proving that he could be a champion, by hook or crook. Now, all that was left to do was to convince the world that he could be a good champion.

Holmes, the smoother boxer and mover of the pair, had Norton coming to him early on and took the first foothold in the fight, boxing up on his toes and using his jab, which would go on to become his bread and butter punch. Norton, plodding forward with his trademark awkward, cross-arm style, perhaps seemed a little nervous and tight, but a solid right cross to Holmes' chin at the end of the third round would doubtless have improved his mood. Holmes' response was to start mixing up his shots a little more, committing to letting his own right cross go behind his jab, and also doing nice work to the body, all the time while on the move as Norton lumbered after him.

The defending champion seemed to have that little more devil in his punches in the seventh, and the fight really started coming to the boil in the eighth, with Holmes starting perfectly with a lovely jab, right cross right cross trio and Norton coming back strongly with his own aggressive jabbing while on the forward march, combined with some heavy hooks to the ribs - and all of this topped off with a good right hand to the challenger's chin near the bell. Holmes rediscovered his control of distance and pace in the next two, but by the eleventh Norton, knowing that he needed to be busier and start throwing his shots with more purpose, was finally able to trap Holmes on the ropes for the first time, where he nestled in to the challenger's chest and drove home energy-sapping body shots.

After a very evenly-contested twelfth, Holmes seemed to have made the killing thrust in the thirteenth, visibly hurting Norton more than once and showing the full array of shots at his disposal; jabs, crosses, short hooks and, most tellingly, some beautiful uppercuts on the inside which snapped the WBC champion's head back. However, Norton showed magnificent heart to burst back in to life in the fourteenth, showing that he too had a pretty handy uppercut himself, as well as once more backing Larry to the ropes and working the high-low with his left, setting the fight up for what promised to be a gripping finale.

What came next was, quite simply, one of the most sensational three minutes in Heavyweight championship history. In the fifteenth, technique went out the window as both men, knowing that the fight and title was in the balance, threw the kitchen sink (and just about everything else) at each other. Norton was throwing every punch he could call upon, and Holmes had no intention of running in order to wind down the clock, meeting his man head on with his own double and triple jabs, as well as an onslaught of short hooks to both head and body. Somehow, neither man fell as Norton had the best of the first two minutes of the round, before Holmes rallied back with a scorching right hand. Then it was Norton's turn to land that same punch, sending Holmes' mouthpiece flying. Then came a huge left uppercut from Holmes which made Norton's knees dip, and they both wildly swung with bad intent until the bell.

Everyone knew it was close - and for once, the judges came up with scorecards which reflected the feelings and thoughts of the onlookers at Caesers Palace, all by now on their feet in appreciation. 143-142 Holmes, 143-142 Norton, and 143-142 to the new champion, Larry Holmes, who was triumphantly hoisted up in to the air by his team. Although it maybe didn't last as long as it should have, Holmes finally had earned that respect and adulation he so craved.

Why it's here: It seems remarkable, in 2013, to think that this fight wasn't even for the 'real' Heavyweight championship. That title was to be decided three months later when Muhammad Ali gained revenge over Leon Spinks. But between them, Holmes and Norton served up a fight which will never be forgotten and which met every possible criteria for a great Heavyweight title fight, two things which neither instalment of Ali-Spinks can claim. If the seventies was indeed the golden era of Heavyweight boxing, then this fight, what with the fires of Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier dimmed and George Foreman seemingly drifting away from the sport forever in 1978, was the last true example of it, the final echo that we still hear today. Moreover, on top of being an instant classic, both brutal and beautiful at the same time, the fight proved to be a historical moment for the division, as Holmes went on to reign for seven years, second at that time only to Joe Louis. And this is where it all started.



# 1 - Joe Frazier W PTS 15 Muhammad Ali, World title, 1971

The skinny: By March 1971, Joe Frazier, a gold medal winning amateur, had compiled a perfect 26-0 record in the professional ranks, taken the NYSAC version of the Heavyweight title three years before and then, in 1970, had stopped the WBA's titlist Jimmy Ellis to make his claim to Heavyweight supremacy undisputed. Or at least, it should have been undisputed in theory. But the shadow of Muhammad Ali, the man who'd reigned as champion between 1964 and 1967 with a grace and a unique style never before seen in a Heavyweight champion, still hung over the division. He'd never lost the title in the ring, having been stripped for famously denouncing the war in Vietnam and refusing the draft, and in the eyes of many, right on top is where he'd still have been - ahead of Frazier - had that not been the case. Himself a gold medallist and boasting an unblemished record of 31-0 in the paid ranks, when he got his licence back in 1970 after a three-year legal battle, the boxing fans could think of only one thing - Ali versus Frazier.

It was all Frazier could think of, too, given that he'd taken Ali's personal jibes and attempts to make him appear dull and unintelligent very much to heart. When the opening bell rang for this New York showdown, Ali was able to back pedal his way to the first two rounds, but the intensity with which Frazier was stalking him, as well as how much Ali was already being forced to hold and smother whenever possible, was proof enough that the former champion wasn't going to get his wish of a long-range, jab-based boxing match.

Frazier, using the sharpest head movement he ever displayed in his career, tore in to Ali against the ropes in the third. Ali smartened up in the next round, pumping out that jab and controlling Frazier with crisp, short right hand leads, but doing that for two rounds was proving very problematic; Joe navigated the jab beautifully in the fifth to leap in with some solid right hands of his own, and he put together just about the perfect round in the sixth, showing lateral movement that Ali just couldn't deal with and forcing the challenger to cover up with a huge left hook to the body. At times, Ali was simply reduced to just extending out his arm and trying to rest his glove on Frazier's head in order to buy himself valuable breathing time.

There was too much showboating and not enough fighting from Ali in the seventh, and in the eighth Frazier drove him to the ropes again with his patented left hook, before letting rip with a straight right down the pipe so venomous it forced itself right through Ali's high guard and rocked his head backwards. Another left hook to the jaw (a punch which, by now, was landing with alarming regularity) was enough to convince Ali that he'd spend the rest of the round simply covering up - Frazier was having none of it, and literally grabbed Ali by his wrists, yanking him back to the centre of the ring.

The shock of being so emphatically man handled seemed to shock Ali in to action, and he was superb in the ninth, getting back up on his toes and letting those hands go in combinations again, with two successive lefts hooks clean to the top of the crouching Frazier's head drawing gasps from the New York crowd. When he just about did enough clean work to edge the tenth as well, any observer would have been forgiven for thinking that the stylist had now well and truly worked out the brawler, and would cruise to victory now.

However, they'd have been wrong, and in the eleventh Ali's world began to fall apart. Almost instantly, yet another left hook by Frazier landed square on Ali's jaw, and down Ali went, although the fact that Frazier's legs had seemingly made contact with Ali's when he lunged in to land the blow meant that he avoided a count. Nevertheless, the punch clearly stunned him, and Frazier set about ending things there and then, driving Ali to the corner and hooking both high and low. Ali was staggered, falling back to the ropes, by a big left hand, and after being sent tottering across the ring was forced to spoil and roll for survival, still under siege at the bell.

In three minutes, Ali's position had switched from relatively positive to being a grim battle for survival.

Frazier was so confident in the twelfth that he was able to do some showboating of his own, laughing at Ali's listless jabs which he was, by now, avoiding for fun and answering with, yep, you guessed it, a series of left hooks, but Ali dug deep in the fourteenth to throw himself a lifeline, finding one last spring in his step and beating Frazier to the punch with sneaky one-twos.

But it was to be Frazier's night. Not long after the start of the final round, he once more positioned Ali near a corner. Ali always preferred to pull straight back, rather than side to side, to avoid shots, but this time he just couldn't get back quickly enough. It was, of course, the left hook, and it boomed off his jaw with all of Frazier's 205 lb behind it. Ali pitched to the canvas but, remarkably, was up again almost instantly. But as Ali's assistant trainer Bundini Brown would say in the aftermath, "That was the punch that did it, the one that blew out all the candles." A mixture of Ali's own survival instincts, along with understandable fatigue on Frazier's part, meant that the champion couldn't quite get the finish. But he had something more important than that - a victory over his arch rival in an absolutely gorgeous fight, fittingly dubbed 'The Fight of the Century' and still known by that moniker today. At long last, Frazier had made it totally official. He was THE Heavyweight champion of the world.

Why it's here: It could be argued that this showdown between Ali and Frazier was the most eagerly anticipated fight in Heavyweight title history, and it lived up to that anticipation. In terms of how fine an exhibition of boxing it was from both men (particularly Frazier, of course), you'd be hard pressed to find too many better fights from any Heavyweight vault, and of course it planted the seed which would sprout in to the most storied rivalry in the history of the Heavyweight division. I'm still not sure that it's fully appreciated and acknowledged just how magnificent and utterly brilliant Frazier had to be to emerge from this fight triumphant. His performance deserves to be remembered as one of the finest from any Heavyweight champion under any set of circumstances - maybe even the finest of the lot.

As always good work Chris, the heavies are difficult because there are fights which there is a temptation to put in for their symbolic importance but I know your intention with this series has always been to do the fights that are actually competitive/dramatic and stand up to repeat viewing. Given this your choices are probably the right ones over the likes of Johnson Burns or Louis Schmeling II which whilst obviously hugely important are not exactly the most competitive of affairs.
 
Excellent stuff yet again and your top three is about as perfect as it is possible to get.

Can I put these up on the journal Chris?

Great article Chris, really enjoyed the read.

5* stuff Chris, exceptional read. The only one fight I may offer for a top ten spot would be Foreman's sensational win over Moorer, granted the fight wouldn't get the pulses racing but the sheer magnitude of the victory maybes would be a title fight that would be a personal top 10 in my list. Once again great write up and thoroughly enjoyable read.

Cheers Rodders

Dempsey - Firpo farce..Would be swapped with Berbick - Tyson........The crowning of the youngest heavy king in history..........

Not sure about Louis-Conn either..........Conn lost.......So the gritty is that a bigger heavier champ struggled with a 170 pound guy and pulled it out........

Ali-Liston 1 would replace that one for me..........Huge underdog who was never given a chance....... and was considered a huge mismatch and people stayed away..

As ever though minor quibbles and a superb piece of work.............

Great stuff Chris. Gotta say, you have too much time on your hands.

Holyfield v Dokes was brilliant. The 80s really had some talented heavyweights when they were focused. I honestly dont think the heavyweights around now can hold a candle to them..

Currently bed ridden with flu and havnt got Uni anyway so may watch a couple of these again today. Cheers Chris good stuff

Oh and if anyone wants to see some more 90s heavyweight top highlights check out my article in the The Human Windmill Boxing Vault

https://www.606v2.com/t21735-1990s-heavyweight-boxing-highlights


Regards

catchweight wrote:Holyfield v Dokes was brilliant. The 80s really had some talented heavyweights when they were focused. I honestly dont think the heavyweights around now can hold a candle to them..

No it was a good fight..........Never once thought Dokes would pull it off but he was competitive in parts....

But your point about the slobs we have now is spot on..........Dokes always had fast hands...........Tubbs, Page even though they were slobs could fight at pace.....with fast hands..

Current lot are a disgrace.............

Here are some corkers:

Ernie Shavers vs Roy Williams
George Foreman vs Ron Lyle (greatest slugfest in history).
Joe Frazier vs Jerry Quarry
Mike Weaver vs John Tate

Nice one Chris some great fights there & a couple I've heard of & not seen before so I'm gonna check them out in the archive later, haven't seen any of the ones hazharrison posted either so I'll check them out too.

My favourite HW fight of all time HAS to be Tyson vs Holyfield 1.

I was 17 at the time & the build up & excitement surrounding the fight is something I'll never forget, & then the fight itself was so much more than anyone expected it to be.

For me, Tyson was better after prison than in the few fights leading up to Douglas & prison, he'd found his jab again, the head movement was back & he was punching in combos again not trying to blow people away with one punch as he was in Douglas & quite a few fights before

The way Holy stood up to him & went to war it was unreal, we all watched it in a pub & the atmosphere & noise was unbelievable, I remember near enough everyone thinking it was going to be an early night & Tyson would bully & walk through him, how wrong we all were, & that was the last time I underestimated Holy, I'd done before as a kid in all 3 Bowe fights too, what a fighter he was in the 90's

Last truly great HW fight in my opinion

Not the top of the tree but some great scraps at heavyweight I enjoyed were:

Tua v IBeabulchi

Bowe v Goloto 1 and especially 2


Then there's the real life heavyweight Rocky fights like this Harris v Jefferson:


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z81taPNIkw8&feature=youtube_gdata_player


This is well worth a watch.

azania wrote:Great stuff Chris.  Gotta say,  you have too much time on your hands.

In fairness, he's put more quality into this one post than you have into nearly 20,000.

Always enjoyable to see your choices in this series, Chris, and very little to argue about here. As you may guess, I'm particularly pleased to see the number one selection in its rightful place. I think you are right to acclaim Frazier's performance as arguably the greatest in heavyweight history. I'd go even further and suggest that this was the most significant single victory by anyone at any weight in the history of the sport, if boxing reasons alone are the determining criteria.

Must say Chris, I think Norton vs Holmes was unfortunate to not be 'the' HW title fight. Ali being Ali, he could have fought an old farmer off the highway in a corn field, and it would have been regarded as "the" HW fight.

Not sure I could honestly pick any flaws in your selection, as your knowledge, and rank as 606 numero uno far outweighs mine, but I think you have Marciano's fight a little low... Imo its at least better than the Moorer fight, and I shamelessly tout Southpaws at any opportunity.

John Bloody Wayne wrote:

azania wrote:Great stuff Chris.  Gotta say,  you have too much time on your hands.

In fairness, he's put more quality into this one post than you have into nearly 20,000.

Well you wont get any argument from me. I'd say its the best article I've ever read here.

Reassuring to know you read the articles before sticking the boot into the OP...  

Of course. Always stick the boot in from an informed stance.

azania wrote:

John Bloody Wayne wrote:

azania wrote:Great stuff Chris.  Gotta say,  you have too much time on your hands.

In fairness, he's put more quality into this one post than you have into nearly 20,000.

Well you wont get any argument from me. I'd say its the best article I've ever read here.

Careful, nobody's gonna disagree with that opinion!

Great stuff. Thanks Chris.

Adam D wrote:Can I put these up on the journal Chris?

You can for me, Adam. Knock yourself out.

Thanks to everyone else for your comments, too.

John Bloody Wayne wrote:

azania wrote:

John Bloody Wayne wrote:

azania wrote:Great stuff Chris.  Gotta say,  you have too much time on your hands.

In fairness, he's put more quality into this one post than you have into nearly 20,000.

Well you wont get any argument from me. I'd say its the best article I've ever read here.

Careful, nobody's gonna disagree with that opinion!

It's good to join the gufff (crowd).

May I add to the positive comments, chris.

Always like to see Douglas get his props for Tokyo. Not only a great shock but a great performance and great drama.

My contribution, not worthy of consideration, but an entertaining slugfest and for the much vaunted wbu belt... Sanders Rahman. In the foreman lyle bracket.

Thanks for that Chris, the only one I hadn't seen was the Moorer v Cooper bout which I watched this morning.Quite an under rated fighter was Bert, he gave Holyfield a bit of a scare when he was forced to take a standing eight count,even though it wasn't allowed. He would trouble quite a few of todays contenders.

  Superb piece of work.

Its up on the journal Chris:

http://v2journal.com/boxing-articles1.html

rapidringsroad wrote:   Thanks for that Chris, the only one I hadn't seen was the Moorer v Cooper bout which I watched this morning.Quite an under rated fighter was Bert, he gave Holyfield a bit of a scare when he was forced to take a standing eight count,even though it wasn't allowed. He would trouble quite a few of todays contenders.

I actually think this is the weakest of the entries. Spectacular 1st round, but after that, it was mainly head to head attrition, which is not really my thing.

I remember when he first came on the scene, there were high hopes for smokin bert, but though he troubled a few and could bang a bit, he just never had the punch resistance to go with his style of fighting. Came to fight though, and certainly gave holy and moorer a scare in hits tithe shots.