IN THE DAYS OF REAL FIGHTING -part 2 by Rob Snell

[Mofo2]

The Syracuse Herald 10 march 1915

IN THE DAYS OF REAL FIGHTING

Jess Willard Was A Terror When He Stopped Smiling

In McCarty Bout

Not long ago, only two and a half years to be exact, a lanky, gawky giant lumbered up the steps at the side of the ring in Madison Square Garden, parted the ropes with a pair of hands like hams, tripped over the bottom rope and nearly fell into the ring. The crowd began to laugh uproariously. The giant walking to the middle of the ring and holding his broad rimmed hat behind him with both hands – to hide them – looked up at the galleries and smiled a smile a foot wide.

This was in the days when visiting fighters were always introduced. The announcer, seeking a chance for some light and humorous remarks, tiptoed to the giant, whispered to him, and turning to the crowd, held up his hand for silence.

“Jess Willard†he announced “The cowboy champion of Kansasâ€, and everybody roared. Nightly after that Willard was introduced. He became part of the programme always good for a laugh. Then unexpectedly he came on one night to fight. He was matched with Arthur Pelky, a powerful fellow who had made some local reputation as a slugger. Everyone, of course, expected to see Pelky knock the lanky cowboy out. Instead Willard very nearly punched Pelky nearly off the map.

So when he ws matched again, and this time against the new heavyweight sensation of the ring , Luther McCarty, who had just knocked out Carl Morris, people came to see him fight.

McCarty was a magnificent specimen of a fighting man, tall, wiry, hard as steel, full of overbearing confidence. Standing in his corner he looked like an animated statue of some Greek hero – some Achilles turned to fisticuffs. Willard, sitting in his corner, looked admiringly at McCarty and then turned to laugh at the crowd.

McCarty started to wipe that big cowboy right off the slate. Everyone knew the moment he left his corner that he was going to try and land the knockout punch in the first round. He rushed with a swinging right. And as he came tearing in big jess just reached out about seven feet with his extended left arm and punched Luther squarely on the nose.Then as McCarty came up short with the jar of a man who had walked into a beam in the dark, Jess turned and laughed at the crowd as if it was all a great joke.

McCarty, furious, came back instantly with another rush, swinging savagely. It looked like nothing could stop him, yet time and again Jess jabbed him away with that long left. There was a snap in the punches, no doubt of it. People who had been betting he’d be knocked out looked glum.

McCarty was a real fighter. He forced his way in obstinately and at last began to land his hard driven right handers. A red mark showed over Willards left cheek bone. He stopped smiling for a moment, and as McCarty rushed again suddenly met him with a short right uppercut. The clash of McCarty’s teeth could be heard far from the ring. McCarty was dazed but gamely he rushed in again. Willard met him with jabs and fed him with uppercuts. In the last round it seemed impossible that McCarty could finish. He was bruised and bleeding and his legs were weak under him, so that he tottered as he flung himself in headlong for more punishment.

McCarty’s gameness carried him through the ten rounds.But Willard was the winner easily. At the end he was fresh and unmarked. McCarty looked as if he had been through a finish fight.

It was four months later that Willard fought Soldier Kearns, a powerful fellow, who looked like a magnified Tom Sharkey, and who’s kick had been demonstrated a week or so before when he knocked out “One Round Davis†in a single round.

Soldier Kearns had remarked that the gigantic cowboy had a “Glass Jaw†and that he intended to find it. Willard took this fight as a joke judging by the way he laughed and smiled to the ringsiders while he was holding off with his long extended left. It went eight rounds. Willard was practically untouched until Kearns at last managed to drive home one of his crushing right hand swings for the body. It struck the giant just at the lower edge of the ribs – the solar plexus.

Feeling his fist sink in, Kearns stepped back a pace or two to let Willard fall. There was an expectant look on his face. He dropped his hands low.

At this interesting moment Willard who has a habit of doing unexpected things reached over about ten feet and shot his right straight for Kearns jaw. There was much annoyance behind that blow. When annoyed Willard is an amazingly strong and quick man. My advice to any gentleman trying conclusions with Willard is to maul him as long as he smiles, and when he stops smiling beat it for the tall timber.

Willard shot his right for Kearn’s jaw – as I said – and landed it. Mr Kearns turned through the air in what is technically termed a parabola. At the height of his trajectory his heels were above his head, being below his heels – as well as various other parts of his anatomy, struck the floor first when he descended.

The referee counted ten over Mr Kearns. He might as well have counted a thousand. It’s that way when Willard lands one when in an unsmiling mood.