Showing posts with label Bill Squires. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Squires. Show all posts

How it Began - Hugh D. McIntosh and the Chinese Market Garden

sydney stadium by mike hitchenDecember 26, 1908. It was time for the start of the long awaited world heavyweight championship fight between the holder, Tommy Burns, and Jack Johnson. Johnson, however, was flatly refusing to go into the ring unless he received more money. Grabbing a revolver, promoter Hugh D. McIntosh, burst into his dressing room.

“If you’re not in the ring in two minutes,” he snarled, “I’ll blow your brains all over the floor.” Johnson rose with alacrity, his gold teeth flashing as he grinned, “Massa Mac, Ah’m on mah way.” It would have taken a shrewder man than Johnson to get the better of Hugh D. McIntosh.

Hard as nails and cunning as a fox, the bull knecked Hugh D. McIntosh, was an entrepreneurial genius. His father, a local police sergeant, was unimpressed when at the age of ten, young Hugh told him that he was going to make his fortune, and that he didn’t care how he did it. It was a philosophy that stayed with him as he made and lost several fortunes over four decades of wheeling and dealing.

A millionaire by his early thirties, “Huge Deal,” as he was aptly known, had a diverse career. Starting with a basket of pies, he became a successful restaurateur, newspaper proprietor, theatre magnate and politician. He was responsible for pulling cycling out of the mud, attracting crowds of upto fifty thousand - and always a man of style - was the first to introduce china cups to the top of Mount Kosciusko.

It was McIntosh’s vision and flair, that made Sydney Stadium possible. With the artfulness that was the hallmark of his career, he succeeded where the world’s top promoters had failed. He enticed Tommy Burns to put his world heavyweight title on the line against the gigantic Negro, Jack Johnson.

Johnson stepped into the ring and into the history books, as the first colored heavyweight champion of the world. With the world’s press, and writers such as Jack London and Damon Runyan, covering what was as much a battle of the races, as a title fight, Sydney and the open air stadium at Rushcutters Bay, became famous the world over.

McIntosh promoted some of the greatest fights ever seen in Australia. Fights, which during Australia’s Federal infancy, put the fledgling commonwealth on the sporting map of the globe. The world’s top fighters flocked to Australia, and Sydney Stadium became a Mecca for the pride of the American and European rings.

Hugh Donald McIntosh was born in 1876 in a tiny house at the bottom of Sydney’s Macquarie Street. After revealing his ambition to his father, and discovering that they did not see eye to eye on business matters, McIntosh left home. As many people would later discover, McIntosh was not one to let anybody stand in his way.

He became an assistant to a travelling tinker and for two years they wandered throughout NSW. Eventually McIntosh deserted him in Broken Hill, taking a more profitable job picking silver ore.

However, the back breaking work was not to his liking. He decided that it was better to work with his brain, than with his back. He drifted to Melbourne, where for a while he played the hind legs of a mule in pantomime. Returning to Sydney at the beginning of the booming 1890s, he became a bread carter. It was to be the last time he would work for someone else.

McIntosh set up in business as a pieman. He started with virtually nothing except a basket and six dozen pies bought on credit from a Redfern factory. Within a few months, he had an army of white coated vendors thronging Sydney’s racecourses, beaches and parks - “coining,” money for him.

No opening was ignored. He even sent his piemen knocking on the doors of the illicit two-up schools, betting clubs and houses of ill repute, that dotted Surrey Hills, Darlinghurst and Wooloomooloo. With the profits, McIntosh set up his own factory at North Sydney. From there it was an easy graduation to ownership of a chain of plush, ornate restaurants.

Always on the lookout for money making opportunities, McIntosh set his sights on cycle racing, which was then the most popular sport of the day. With his flair for showmanship and the ability if necessary to control trouble making cyclists with a spanner, McIntosh had no difficulty in making himself the king-pin cycling promoter. When the cycling boom ended, Hugh D. sought out other lucrative ventures.

In 1908, the Prime Minister, Mr. Alfred Deakin, orchestrated a goodwill visit of 16 warships of the US Navy. It was the impending arrival of The 'Great White Fleet', that planted in McIntosh’s mind, the seed that would grow into Sydney Stadium.

He had for some time thought of bringing world heavyweight champion Tommy Burns to Australia. McIntosh believed that the 12,000 American sailors would pay good money to see a world title fight. Forming a company called the Scientific Boxing and Self Defense Ltd., McIntosh cabled Burns an offer of £4000, to defend his title against the slogging Australian miner, Bill Squires.

With the contest arranged, Hugh D. now had to find somewhere to stage it. He initially chose the Exhibition Building, which was situated in Prince Alfred Park, near the Railway Station. However, when he went to view it, McIntosh found barriers erected. and a large man, making unmistakable signs with his huge fingers. McIntosh decided to seek out an alternative venue.

He wandered down to Rushcutters Bay in an old shabby suit selected for the occasion, and gazed over a waste where once a Chinese market garden had bloomed. While he looked and nosed around, the owner approached him and asked McIntosh what he wanted.

McIntosh looked sadly at the site of the garden. He told him he was looking for a place to put up a nice two man show with a view to making a bob or two during Fleet Week. After some negotiation, McIntosh agreed to rent the land. The rent was £2 per week for two years, with the right to renewal for the same term at £4 per week!

A few days later the owner was astounded to see vast piles of building material being dumped on the land. When he made inquiries he was taken to the man he had met in patched pants, but who was now resplendent in an expensive suit. “Huge Deal” handed him a cigar and said, “It’s for my two man show - the Burns - Squires fight.”

At a cost of £2000, McIntosh quickly erected a huge unroofed timber stadium, that was destined to become, “The Old Tin Shed.”

The fight was a huge success, but not because of the American Sailors. They stayed away in thousands. It is said that only two sailors were present and both were drunk, staggering down to the ring, offering to fight anybody for two dollars. Twenty thousand Sydneysiders, however, paid the unprecedented gate of £13,600 to see Burns win easily.

The success of that fight spurred him to renew his lease and stage the biggest boxing match in Australian history.

For years Jack Johnson had been trying to get into a ring with Tommy Burns, but the champion had persistently dodged him. McIntosh asked Burns what he would want to meet Johnson. Believing that McIntosh would never pay it, Burns demanded £6000. The Australian promoter accepted on the spot and Tommy was trapped.

The jubilant Johnson was satisfied with £1000 as his payment, (later raised to £1500), and the fight was on.

For Burns it was the end of the road. It is now ring history how Johnson cruelly and methodically carved him to pieces, and won the title that he was to hold for the next seven years.

With ringside seats at £10, McIntosh made his greatest financial killing. The gate receipts were £26000, then a world record. From these boxing promotions and others over the next few years, Hugh D. McIntosh raked in more than a quarter million pounds.

McIntosh went to England and America and made a name for himself in London as a fight promoter. When he returned to Australia, he was followed by a crowd of the world’s best boxing talent.

Boxing was lifted to a high level. The only thing that prevented it being completely respectable was the “Fear of The Dark”. McIntosh introduced a stream of colored fighters to the white boxing world, helping to make heavyweights like Sam Langford and Sam McVea world famous.

Until McIntosh, promoters believed there was little money to be made by putting two colored fighters in the same ring. However, Australia gazed with mingled awe and delight at the spectacle of McVea and Langford knocking corners of each other.

It was also under his management that Jimmy Clabby, Billy Papke, Cyclone Johnny Thompson and a team of French boxers, descended on Sydney and Australia.

McIntosh decided to expand. The first thing was to put a roof over the Stadium. The arena was entirely transformed. From having an exterior consisting of hideous poster hoarding, it became an elegant castellated structure. Solid concrete foundations were put in to support the weight of the roof and when it was finished, it was possible to have boxing, or any other sport there all the year round. On August 3rd, 1912, Sam Langford outpointed Sam McVea, in the first fight held under cover.

Later that year, McIntosh thought it was time to develop the more artistic side of his entrepreneurial genius. One morning, Sydneysiders awoke and learned with amazement that Hugh D. McIntosh had paid £100,000 to take over the huge Rickards theatre circuit.

For a brief while he ran both establishments, but on December 2nd 1912, the Stadium was taken over on approval by Reginald (Snowy) L. Baker. In March 1913, he bought the business lock, stock and barrel and Hugh D. McIntosh ceased to have any but sentimental interest in the great stadium he had created.

McIntosh began to live the role of the successful tycoon, buying a mansion, “Bellhaven,” at Bellevue Hill and a fleet of Pierce-Arrow cars with his crest prominently displayed on the doors.

A personal friend of the Premier, W.A. Holman, he was elected to a seat in the NSW Legislative Council, which he held till he was made bankrupt in 1932.

Hugh D. entertained on a fabulous scale. Many visiting celebrities, enjoyed his hospitality. He made his money easily and he squandered it the same way. His gifts of motor cars to friends, diamond studded wrist watches to chorus girls and gold cigarette cases to mere acquaintances, became the talk of the town.

Hankering for fresh fields, McIntosh now bought the Sydney Sunday Times the oldest Sunday newspaper in Australia. It was a vehicle he would later use to persecute the great Les Darcy.

McIntosh had his own ideas on how to increase circulation. One such example was an offer to a notorious murderer named Simpson on the eve of his execution. Simpson would be paid £5000, if he would endeavor to come back from the dead and appear at the Sunday Times office before witnesses.

Visited in his cell, Simpson accepted the proposition eagerly. He jotted down the address of the newspaper office, so he would not “get lost on the way,” and promised to do his best to solve “the age old riddle of whether the dead could return.” Forty people gathered in McIntosh’s office on the night following Simpson’s execution. Simpson, however, was not one of them.

By such stunts, McIntosh did more harm than good to the paper, which had previously enjoyed a valuable prestige. It became one of his financial failures.

In 1928 Hugh D. McIntosh tried his luck in England. He bought Broome Park, a seventeenth century mansion set in 600 acres and formerly owned by Lord Kitchener.

In association with C.B. Cochran, he promoted a few fights in the Olympia Annex in London and also at stadiums in Paris. None of them earned enough to keep him in cigars.

For four years, McIntosh lived a fantastic round of pleasure in England. He poured out his money entertaining the rich, the famous, the titled, and beggared himself in the process.

In 1932 he returned to Australia broke. Bankruptcy proceedings were instituted against him. His liabilities were proved at a staggering figure.

But Hugh D. McIntosh could not be kept down for long. He was soon staging a comeback, promoting fights at the Sydney Stadium. Full of enthusiasm, he imported the American heavyweight Young Stribling and matched him with the Australian heavyweight Ambrose Palmer, hoping to repeat his 1908 clean up with Burns and Johnson.


It was not to be. The takings amounted to only £3800 and Stribling alone had been guaranteed £3000. Another financial body blow followed with the failure of a boomed match between Ron Richards and Fred Henneberry.

The now aging promoter was down - but he was not out. He threw himself into the flotation of a chain of cake shops and opened a large guest house in the Blue Mountains.

In 1935 he sailed once more for England, where on August 1 he opened what was to be the first of a chain of 500 McIntosh milk bars throughout the country.

With an excess of ballyhoo, a company was floated which McIntosh said would soon be disposing of the milk output of a million cows, to two million customers a week.

McIntosh opened a dozen milk bars in London, and it seemed he was on the right foot again. However, lack of capital and cut-throat competition beat him.

When he died in 1942, he was penniless. His old time friends had to contribute to a fund to defray his funeral expenses.


Copyright Mike Hitchen, Lane Cove, NSW, Australia. All rights reserved

Arthur Cripps - three good teeth and several stumps

Place Of Birth. Sydney NSW
Date Of Birth. 08 Jan 1879
Date Deceased. 04 Sep 1934
Height. 5’9”
Weight. 11 st 4 lb
Divisions. Middleweight, Heavyweight
Titles. Australian Middleweight, 1903-1905, 1906-1909

Record. won 33 (KO 14) + lost 11 (KO 3) + drawn 3 Newspaper Decisions won : lost 1

Stadium Career. 1909-1911

Career Span. 1902-1914

Fights At The Stadium: 1909 - 1911

Rudy Unholz pts 20 10 Nov 1909
Dave Smith drew 20 29 Nov 1909

Gunner Moir koby 7 23 Feb 1910
Ed Williams pts 20 11 Mar 1910
Dave Smith lpts 20 12 Oct 1910

Jimmy Clabby koby 15 18 Nov 1911

Random Jottings
  • Member of AIF team. (Australian Imperial Force)
  • A benefit night of boxing was held for him at the Stadium, shortly before his death. He had been ill for some time.
  • Traveled to many places and ended up in New York, knocking out Joe Williams in two rounds
  • Returned to Australia and on 09 August 1904 fought Jack Thompson for the third time. Fought a twenty round draw with giant Peter Felix. This was followed by a win on a foul against Bill Squires, when he cleverly threw himself in such a way that the referee thought he had been thrown, and promptly disqualified Squires.
  • Born in Victoria Street, Sydney. His father was a well known medico and his mother an accomplished lady with a “glorious voice”.
  • He spent much time in Queensland, and on several occasions represented the Queensland Football team.
  • He claimed that after being trained by Austin, he never suffered a black eye or a bloody nose.
  • Late in his career he fought Jerry Jerome and was offered £1.00 per round during Jerome’s stay in the ring. “One can well imagine he carried Jerry who however, beat the ex champion when the latter was at the end of his tether.”
  • Taught by Big Jim Austin, one of the cleverest trainers of the time, who saw him in a crude effort against Bill McCarthy, at the Gaiety Hall in Sydney in Jul 1902.
  • From that time, until November, he was not allowed to fight until Jim Austin was satisfied. Following his previous amateurish performance, he was not given much of a chance against clever and capable Harry Dawson, but he had advanced sufficiently to KO him in eighteen rounds .
  • In 1903, he dethroned middleweight champion Jack Thompson. He then went to South Africa, where he was beaten by Irishman Mike Williams, who was then the South African champion.

Article From “The Referee”, date unknown.

Dear old Arthur Cripps, one of the best middleweights Australia has had. When he took his teeth out, Arthur’s jaws fell in, his chin thrust out and his mouth slitted in a thin straight line.

But he was not entirely fangless. He had three good teeth and several stumps. But boxing was not responsible for the gaps. He lost several teeth on the football field. He was a first class Rugby Union player.

Arthur retired from football. He had nine teeth left and his fiancee declared an ultimatum. Cripps was in love, so he took to boxing.

Long years afterwards, Cripps told me , that when he was at the peak of his career, he never received £100 for a fight, “But when I was through as a fighter, McIntosh sprouted as a promoter, and I got more money out of four fights, than I collected in all the years I was champion.”

In his early boxing years, he ran a two up school as a sideline. This is no reflection on his character.

He was an honest man and he conducted a “square” game. But his efforts to keep it clean, cost him six of his teeth. So he quit the gaming house and carried on with three.

Mouthguards were not worn in those days, but I never saw Arthur sporting a cut or lacerated lip. He was a brilliant boxer, a man four square in and out of the ring.

Involvement with AIF.

Arthur Cripps, was selected as Heavyweight, but his place was taken by Corp. R.G. Stephenson, so he could enter the light-heavyweight tournament. However, Cripps was prevented by constant illness from competing.

Cripps was not keen on fighting for the AIF, stating, “I’m after a spot of real fighting.”

Brisbane Courier July 1935













Copyright Mike Hitchen, Lane Cove, NSW, Australia. All r
ights reserved

"Digger" Evans

Name Digger Evans
Real Name Albert Evans
Nickname Digger
Place Of Birth Cobar NSW
Date of Birth 1895-06-26
Titles Australian Flyweight

Record won 17 (KO 4) + lost 18 (KO 10) + drawn 1 = 36 rounds boxed 387 KO% 11.11

Stadium Span 1920 -1924
Career Span Retired 1925

Fights At Stadium

Digger Evans pts 20 Jackie Green 07 Feb 1920

Digger Evans pts 20 Silvano Jamito 28 Feb 1920

Sid Godfrey ko 2 Digger Evans 20 Mar 1920

Digger Evans pts 20 Silvano Jamito 03 Apr 1920

Digger Evans pts 20 Rug Macario 02 May 1920

Joe Symonds ko 8 Digger Evans 22 May 1920

Jerry Sullivan pts 20 Digger Evans 19 Jun 1920

Digger Evans ko 12 Andre Dupres 29 Jan 1921

Digger Evans pts 15 Jimmy Ryan 14 Apr 1923

Digger Evans pts 20 Jimmy Summers 14 Jul 1923

Digger Evans pts 20 Jock Niven 24 May 1924

Billy Grime ko 5 Digger Evans 14 Jun 1924

RANDOM JOTTINGS

· Over 200 fights in the UK

· Lost controversial points decision to Jimmy Wilde at an inter-services tournament in the Albert Hall in 1919.

· Unknown as a fighter before he enlisted in the A.I.F.

· When Bill Dibley called on one of the soldiers to box an exhibition with him at Liverpool camp, Digger, then known as Moses Evans, belted him around the ring.

· First fight on returning to Sydney was against Jackie Green.

Report of his fight against Jimmy Wilde

Probably the most publicised bout of the Empire series was Digger Evans (A.I.F.) - Jimmy Wilde scrap in the inter-Allies tournament at the Albert Hall, London in 1919 it was in 1918). Wilde was the world’s flyweight champion.

Evans, a native of Cobar, was unknown in boxing prior to World War 1. He was discovered in an A.I.F. division tournament. Evans, a boxing will-o’-the-wisp, made every use of the ring. He jabbed, held artistically and ran. Wilde made the pace, led all the time with a flurry of punches.

At the end of the third round a vocal Australian mob reared in Stentorian tones during the minutes spell. Welsh battalions sang national airs. In an electric final round, Wilde threw hundreds of punches in a jungle display.

The Australian troops chanted “Dig,” “Dig,” “Dig,” as the M.C. collected the judges’ cards. When the verdict was announced, the Australian barrackers reached tops in noise and invectives. Wilde told me (who’s me?) several days after the fight he was amazed at the hostile demonstration. He formed the opinion he had won rather comfortably.

Last week Evans recalled that hectic night. He has mellowed with the years and now admits he was shaded, that Wilde was a bit up on him.

The following is an article written by referee Joe Wallis in a series of articles written pre 1939

One of the most romantic figures in the Australian boxing era which I am surveying in these articles was “Digger” Albert Evans. He was romantic because he burst from the clouds upon boxing in the World War of 1914-1918. Had it not been for the War, possibly “Digger” Evans would have been born to blush unseen and waste his ability as a boxer on the desert air of oblivion. He would never have been known. The war gave him his opportunity.

In the ranks of the Allied armies he was plain “Digger.” Then like a meteor he that shot across the sky, the name of “Digger” Evans was flashed from one end of the world to the other, emblazoning the head-lines of every daily newspaper with his amazing exploits as a boxer.

He was first heard of when he won the bantam championship of the Allied Armies at the Pershing Stadium in France, and a little later in 1918[1], he was the hero of a thrilling contest with world flyweight champion Jimmy Wilde at the Albert Hall in London.

Although the decision was given against Evans it was the unanimous opinion of the critics that he won. The story of the fight and of his rise to fame was featured in nearly every newspaper in the British Empire.

Mr. Charlie Lucas, who was in those days a clever, astute and energetic manager of boxers, heard of Evans, and took a run out to the camp at Sutton Veney, where the soldiers were engaging in light skirmishes with the boxing gloves. Evans immediately caught his eye.

“I say Digger” remarked Lucas, “Where do you come from?” “Cobar,” replied Evans. “And where did you learn your boxing?” he was next asked. “It just came to me” was his reply. “Well you had better come with me,” rejoined Lucas. “I think we can make a world beater out of you.” So Evans joined Lucas.

Evans was not long in justifying his manager’s opinion, and, when the time came for his re-turn to Australia on the troopship, Lucas decided to accompany him. Before the troopship ar-rived at Freemantle Lucas sent a wireless message to Jack Munro, suggesting that Evans should fight Jackie Green. The match was made. Green came from a fighting family. His un-cle the late Teddy Green, was bantam champion of Australia in the days when Charlie Camp-bell ran the old Gaiety. Teddy took over his nephew, and nursed him until he won the featherweight championship of Australia.
Lucas took his boxer out to Sir Joseph Banks Hotel, Botany, the rendezvous of many famous boxers. Public imagination was so fired that 20 to thirty car loads of people were seen to be arriving every afternoon to observe the “Digger” in his work outs.

Green train
ed at the Stadium and had as his main sparring partner his brother Theo. I think Theo would have made history for the family had he not been a martyr to rheumatism.

Well, the great night arrived. The Stadium was packed. Everywhere one looked was khaki. There must have been 5000 diggers among the vast crowd. It was such a night only to be re-peated later by the Criqui - Godfrey sensation.

When the Digger made his entrance down the passageway that historic night the applause was deafening. The Diggers rose to him as one man. They all seemed to know him. He was their pal. Green also met with thunderous applause. It was a mighty battle, in which the fortunes of each combatant swayed first from one, then to the other. First Evans, then Green took the lead.

Green found “Digger” Evans an awkward boxer. For the latter was a southpaw - the technical term for an unorthodox boxer. A southpaw is a “left hander.” That is, with his right arm and right foot forward. The “Digger’s” left hand was 4½ inches shorter than his right, which he kept popping straight out. His short left worked to the jaw and the body. The pace they set was remarkable, and few onlookers ever thought the fight would go the full distance of twenty rounds. But it did. In the last round Green tried frantically for a knock-out, but he could not land the decisive blow, and the “Digger,” was given my decision.

A sensation arose over the weights in connection with the fight. Green’s party wanted a for-feit of £200, but it was ultimately agreed to fix the amount at £50, should either man come in over the stipulated limit. Since Charlie Lucas came in for a withering attack at the time, it may be as well for him to complete this story in his own words.

When Evans fou
ght Jimmy Wilde he explains, he was 8.4½. But when he landed in Australia, after nine weeks aboard a troopship his weight was 8.12. It was reckoned that, after a period of intensive training at Botany, Evans would reduce weight, but to the astonishment of every-body, Evans put on more weight, due no doubt to his return to normal conditions of living. On the night of the fight he came in at 8.12½ or six pounds over the limit. A long argument ensued in the dressing room, but it was agreed to forfeit the £50 and proceed with the fight. Thereafter, Evans always fought as a featherweight.

The nasty recriminations that arose over this weight question need not be enlarged upon here, but it is sufficient to add that year, when Evans defeated Green, was “Digger’s” greatest. Twice he outpointed Salvino Jamito, he defeated Pug Macario, Teddy Uren, Havilah Uren, and Jack Jannese. He retired from the ring in 1925.



[1] The following details are taken from Soldiers and Sportsmen published by the AIF Sports Control Board in 1919.

British Empire and American Services Boxing tournament at the Royal Albert Hall, London, 11 and 12 Dec 1918. The tournament was promoted by the Imperial Services Boxing Association.

Amongst the boxers were Private Art Tierney, 4th Battalion (welterweight) and Private A.Evans (Digger Evans), A.S.C. (bantamweight).They did not win a single final, although they scored fairly well in the opening bouts.

The bantamweight representative was Digger Evans, the hero of many good fights in France. In the second round he met Jimmy Wilde[1], (Sgt. Instructor), of the British Army. Wilde won a controversial point's decision. In the final, Wilde was beaten on points by Pal Moore, of the US Navy.

Main points from an interview given by Digger Evans to J.M. Rohan

· A bunch of young fellows from Cobar NSW enlisted in the AIF. One of them a bantam who wore a perpetual smile. Fought more than a hundred fights before he got out of khaki.

· He wanted to be a boxer from the age of seven.

· Broke his left arm at 7, (fell out of a tree)11 (football) and 14 (football). Had three inches of bone taken from it, which turned him into a southpaw.

· His father died when he was a baby. Became a blacksmith to help the family.

· His mother wouldn’t allow him to box.

· His first ring fight was at Dubbo camp. Fought a preliminary fight to Silver Jackson and Paddy Regan.

· Won a boxing tournament on the troopship to England.

· Had 45 fights at Larkhill Camp, Salisbury Plains, without defeat.

· Transferred to Sutton Veny camp, had several more fights without loss.

· Charlie Lucas appeared on the scene and issued a challenge on behalf of a Billy Murray to fight him six rounds. Billy Murray turned out to be Billy Eugene, a Sydney featherweight.

· Went to Bristol to fight in the Inter-Army Championships Of The Southern Command. He was asked to fight as a featherweight as the AIF team included a bantam.

· Charlie Lucas was in charge of the AIF team.

· Transferred to Aldershot and had a few fights there. Sid Burns was also at the camp.

· He became tired of boxing and made an application to go to France. Instead he was ordered to London to fight in the American and British Tournament at the National Sporting Club. Won the bantamweight championship.

· Went with Lucas to Hurlcott to fight in the Australian and New Zealand Tournament.

· The tournament was finished in one day. To win the bantamweight championship he had to win six fights.

· Fought Jimmy Wilde for the King’s Trophy at the Albert Hall. The King and Duke of Windsor were present.

· Charlie Lucas interested C.B. Cochran, a theatrical manager and promoter in his record, and Cochran offered in the event of him getting a decision, a guarantee of £5000 win, lose, or draw, for a 20 round fight with Jimmy Wilde.

· Against Wilde, Evans had a weight advantage of 14lb.

· At the time of the fight he was feather and bantamweight champion of the AIF, featherweight champion Southern Command, bantam and featherweight champion of the British Empire and American Forces Tournament.

· Sparred with Arthur Cripps at Norbury.

The following articles are taken from “Digger” Evans life story as told to J. M. Rohan in a series of newspaper articles.

Evans The Digger With the “Wingy Arm”

A batch of young fellows from Cobar, NSW, enlisted in the A.I.F. to fight for King and country. One of them was a bantam who wore a perpetual smile.

This lad was destined to do more fighting than the average soldier; in fact, he fought more than a hundred fights before he got out of khaki.

“Digger” Evans won tourneys against representatives of Great Britain and allied nations.


Early ambitions of many lads are never realised, but mine were. From the age of seven I wanted to become a boxer. I fell from a tree when birdnesting and had my left arm broken and my first remark was that I hoped my arm would mend so that I could straight left my schoolmates. It was an unlucky arm, my left, as it was broken three time altogether, twice playing football at 11 and 14, and as a result three inches of bone were taken from it, leaving me with a “wingy” arm.

My accident turned me into a southpaw.

My dad died when I was a baby, so I had to go out early in life to help the family. A flyweight, I took to blacksmithing in my home town. Can you imagine me - a flyweight - swinging the big hammer? It made me tough.

My workmate, Don Nicholson, was a fight fan. He went to Sydney to see the final of the

Olympia £600 tourney, won by Fred Kay. On his return he sparred with me and told me I

would develop into another Fred Kay, as I used my right hand in a similar fashion.

I might mention that the only experience I had, had to this time was a few spars at Rudges Hotel Cobar, where the well known country fighter Dick Peterson used to give the winner of a spar threepence. I f I collected a black eye, or a bleeding nose, I told my mother I was bowled over playing football.

My mother tried hard to get me to give up football; she said it was too rough. Had she known I was fighting there would have been ructions.

Put Them Under The Copper

One day, I bought home a pair of boxing gloves with the idea of educating my mother to the sight of them, but I had the misfortune to break the nose of the nipper I was sparring with and mother was so upset she put them under the copper. I tried to reason with her and told her I felt that fighting was the game out of which I would make enough money to buy her a home.

“I hope no son of mine will ever have to fight to keep a roof over my head;” was her retort.

Mother stood like a brick wall between me and my ambition, but I got my chance when the war broke out.

George Chip and Art Magirl who came to the camp to entertain the troops. The referee asked if any bantam in the crowd would come forward and take a glove with Billy Dibley an old-timer. I accepted the invitation. After a few rounds Dibley asked me my name and when I told him he declared I was a ring-in.

My record before embarking for the war was not as you will agree an imposing one. I look back now and wonder how I got so far as I did - me with my “wingy,” arm and weighing no more than 7 stone 10.

The Lieutenant’s “soft-soap”

A BOXING tourney was arranged on the troopship going over and Lieut. ”Darky” Smith with a bit of “soft-soap” got round all the Cobar boys to enter. “If you enter, I will,” he would say to each fellow he approached. When we found his name missing from the entries, we reckoned we had been tricked. It appears it was against army regulations for officers to fight with the men. “Darky” knew this of course and he had the laugh on us.

Four wins put me into the final of the bantam division and I defeated my opponent, a 13th Battalion boy named Totten, who was killed in France. My trainer for the tourney, “Smiling Jim Budge,” was also killed.

At the Larkhill Camp Salisbury Plains, I was sparring one evening with a mate when Sergeant “Snowy” Brigden (Sgt-Cook of the Battalion) came along, asked a few questions and put a proposition to me. he would make me cook’s offsider if I would go into training under him. I readily accepted. Barbering potatoes, chopping up melons with an axe, and issuing coffee and rum was the kind of soldiering that would get on the average fellows nerves, but it kept me out of parade ground work and I was quite happy.

It was then that Charlie Lucas, promoter and matchmaker came into the picture. He issued a challenge on behalf of a Billy Murray, 9st, to fight me six rounds. Murray looked a likely sort. The fact that I was to give away 9lb didn’t worry me, as I had often given away more, but I found my opponent a handful as the fight wore on. When I went to my corner at the end of the fifth round I asked Brigden if he had any idea who the other fellow was. “It’s Billy Eugene, a Sydney featherweight,” he answered.

As we shook hands before the last round I said “Say, Sonny as Billy Murray you’re not worth a cracker, now let’s see what you can do as Billy Eugene.”

I landed the bets for my supporters, who would not have wagered so heavily had they known Eugene’s record.

Chosen for Inter-Army Titles

My fight with Eugene won me selection to go to Bristol to fight in the Inter-Army championships of the Southern Command. When we got there I was asked to fight in the featherweight division as the A.I.F. team included a bantam, while they had no featherweight representative. I had to do as I was told.

Charlie Lucas was in charge of the AIF team, and said he would look after me.

When I had fought my way through to the final, I found that my opponent was Corporal Hinchcliffe, the light-weight champion of the Southern Command. Lucas roared like a lion, and demanded that Hinchcliffe be put on the scales.

There was quit a scene over it. Hinchcliffe weighed 9st 6lb.

After much argument I allowed Lucas to let the fight go on. We boxed four rounds, and the judges ordered another two rounds. The extra rounds having been completed, he got the decision, in spite of the fact that he never landed a punch.

Australian With A Punch

At Aldershot I had a few fights. The well-known English welterweight Sid Burns, who fought Johnny Summers, Matt Wells and others in Australia was there delivering rations and blankets for the Australian detachment of boxers. In the Australian team at Aldershot was heavyweight, Billy Teale. I think he would have been a champion had he not been stricken down with appendicitis. He could bowl opponents over in quick time with one of the best wallops I’ve seen. to Australia, won a few tourneys and was runner up to Colin Bell in another, after having Bell down for nine sec-onds on two occasions. In the Aldershot heavy-weight division Teale met Joe Beckett and had him down a few times before Beckett won the decision.

I had had so much of boxing, I was getting a bit tired of it, so I made an application to go across to France, but in-stead I was told to go to London to fight in the American and British Empire tourney at the National Sporting Club. The late Mr Douglas, fa-ther of the famous crick-eter , refereed the bout in which I won the ban-tamweight champion-ship.

One month later, I won the featherweight ti-tle and was presented with medals by the late Mr Peggy B……I recall Charlie Lucas saying, “Well Digger, you’re fighting like a champion and not even getting peanuts, but it wont al-ways be that way.

I had to serv
e further apprenticeship in the camps. I was detailed with Lucas to go to Hurlcott to fight in the Australian and New Zea-land tourney. That was a hurry-up affair if you like. The tourney was finished in one day. To gain the bantamweight championship I had to win six fights; and when I complained of its being a big days work, Lucas said, “Never Mind, Dig-ger, you’re a stayer.”

Rafferty’s rules prevailed in some tournaments. At the time of which I write, Billy Eugene and I were both being looked after by Charlie Lucas. In one tournament I won four bouts to get into the final. Eugene won three fights but could not go on because of a cut eye.
I asked to be allowed to take his place. The request was agreed to and I won to get Eugene into the final with me. The final was an exhibition spar. The referee asked Charlie Lucas which one he wanted to win
. Charlie told him to please himself.

The armistice signed, Lucas took me to London, seeking professional fights.

£5000 For A Win Over Jimmy Wilde

COUNTLESS victories in army fights won for “Digger” Evans the honor of meeting the world famed Jimmy Wilde while the little Welsh wizard sat on the highest pedestal of pugilism.

The present King, the Duke of Windsor and thousands of fans cheered the boys on in a whirlwind bout, which the majority thought Evans won.

When it was
known that I was to fight Jimmy Wilde in the bantam division of the King’s Trophy at the Albert Hall, London, in 1919, a three round affair, I was asked if I feared the greatest little fighting machine the world has known, I laughed. What was there to fear? It was a privilege to meet Wilde. Opponents had to be in the first flight before being considered for matches with him. And looked at in that light, I suppose I should have felt honoured.

Few knew the incentive I had to win that bout. Charlie Lucas interested Mr C. B. Cochran, theatrical manager and promoter, in my record, and Mr Cochran offered in the event of my getting the decision, to guarantee me £5000 win, lose, or draw, for a 20 round fight with Wilde.
I knew that I would have a weight advantage of at least 14lb, and I set about fitting myself for the bout as I had not done for previous contests. Charlie Lucas arranged for a few ten rounders for me.

Planned To go Flat Out

At that time I was bantam and featherweight champion of the A.I.F., featherweight champion of the Southern Command, and bantam and featherweight champion of the British Empire and American Tourney held at the National Sporting Club, London.

Mr “Peggy” Bettinson was evidently so pleased with my efforts at his famous club that he arranged matches for me. In turn, I defeated Stoker McMorris and Tommy Spearman, and I got into good trim when I went to Norbury to spar with Arthur Cripps

I anticipated that Wilde would pepper me with straight lefts; but I had taken hun-dreds of punches for medals and I could take a good deal more for the chance of crowding Wilde out of a decision that would earn me £5000.

It must not be thought, however, that I was underestimating the little Welshman. What I mean to convey is that I intended to take every advantage of the poundage I had in my favor. I was extremely happy that it wasn’t the other way about.

With my southpaw stance I expected to have Wilde wondering for half a round un-til he sized me up. My condition was good and three rounds was not far to go, and so I planned to set the pace and go flat out all the way.

Wilde evidently figured on making an early start, as he whacked me a beauty on the nose that made me see stars. The claret started to flow. The Mighty Atom hit with terrific force. I went for him after that first punch and didn’t allow him to get set for another.

It was a sizzling affair. We unleashed more punches than are usually thrown in a short bout.
The pace was on from start to finish and it had the packed hall thrilled with excite-ment. The cheering was deafening. In be-tween rounds I could not hear what my seconds were saying.
There was quite a demonstration when the referee gave the decision to Wilde. Some people evidently did not agree with it.

I felt quite satisfied that I had made a good scrap of it with the world’s premier midget. Naturally I was sorry the decision went against me, but my disappointment was short lived.

Referees Were Changed

The American team for the King’s Trophy contests was a very strong one and included that great fighter Mike O’Dowd, and also Harry Greb, Augie Ratner, Ritchie Mitchell, bantam Joe Lynch and Pal Moore, another of the bantam brigade.

After my fight with Jimmy Wilde, the Americans objected to the referees. (the next part of the text is missing, but the referees were change and in the final, the referee gave the decision to the American Pal Moore over Jimmy Wilde). My opinion was that Wilde won every round.
Thus Moore received the Cochran £5000 for a match against Wilde that could easily have been mine.

So much has been written about Wilde that every fight fan must be well ac-quainted with him. I can vouch for all that has been said of him. He had everything but weight. He fought whoever his man-ager matched him against. Jimmy’s motto was, “Any weight, anywhere, any time.”
Wilde was only once asked to make a weight. When matched to fight Dick Heas-man, an English flyweight, Jimmy was un-der a £500 forfeit to make 7.4. Some of Jimmy’s friends feared he would be unable to do it, but Jimmy hopped on the scales in his singlet and weighed 7½ stone.
A few months later he was matched against Joe Conn, featherweight champion of Europe and Lonsdale belt holder. Conn’s manager insisted on weighing-in at 2 p.m. Which meant that at ringside Conn would be every ounce of 9.4.it took Wilde two rounds to dispose of Heasman and 12 to put Conn down and out. And it was right on top of those per-formances that the little Welsh wizard spilt the blood of yours truly.

After the Army championship competi-tors, their trainers, the organisers and dis-tinguished officers were invited to a dinner at the Savoy Hotel, at which the main topic of conversation seemed to be the final of the bantamweight championships.

Reversed Decision

One speaker said that the hardest punch of all in a fight was to hear the decision going to the other fellow. All eyes were turned on Jimmy Wilde. Jimmy smiled and said that he felt sure that Pal Moore would give him a chance to reverse the decision later. They met in America and Wilde outpointed his Army opponent with ease.

The present King handed each competi-tor a certificate to mark the occasion of the big military tournament at the Albert Hall.

When I took my bow to him he asked me how I managed to keep smiling throughout a hectic bout. (next part of text is missing. but this an account of his fight with Mike Blake)

Jimmy Wilde asked Evans, “how do you think you’d stand up to a man who did eve-rything but bite?” asked Wilde, who went on to say that English promoters liked to try every bantam, and quite a number of featherweights out with Blake. “You’ll get hurt whether you win or lose.” He added.

Wilde’s prediction came true. After fighting a fifteen round draw with Chris Langdon at the National Sporting Club, Mr Bettinson asked me if I would fight Blake. I agreed as I knew there would be a nice cheque from it.

I found Blake the roughest customer I’ve ever met in a ring.

He bumped, butted, thumped. I burst out laughing at his audacity. I tried to advise him to cut out the rough stuff which would not be appreciated by the short fronted gentry, but my reward was another butt on the chin.

Nearly Put Out For Laughing

As Mike came in with his head down, I let go an uppercut, which caught him flush on the jaw and sent him back on his heels.

I laughed and the late Mr Douglas, who was referee threatened to put me out of the ring for it.
At the National Sporting Club, the refe-ree is outside the ring, and I don’t think Mr Douglas saw what Mike was doing to me in close.

Actually, I had nothing to laugh about, as Mike was hurting me as I had never been hurt before, but his style was so funny.

Mike was a Cockney who trimmed all the bantams. Once they sent for him to spar with Wilde, but when handed big gloves while Jimmy had small ones, Mike objected and left the gymnasium, saying, “When anyone has to be hurt with gloves, it’s got to be the other bloke.”

Mike won our bout. When he met me the next day he said, “Digger, If I visit Austra-lia you’ll have to take me home to meet your people. I’m a nice little chap.”

He was a real tornado and fought like a wildcat. The rules he observed could not by any stretch of the imagination be called Marquis of Queensbury. He was cunning enough to do most of his butting and rough stuff when he had me between him and Mr Douglas.

Some time after my bout with Blake, I met Jimmy Wilde and he inquired how I got on with gentle Mike.

“He didn’t do a thing to which I could take exception,” I answered without a smile.
Wilde looked puzzled and said that Mike must surely have mended his ways.

After knocking out Seaman Williams in three rounds at The Ring, London, I was notified that I had to go to Clerkenwell to fight for the British Empire bantam Cham-pionship. This I won and was presented with a medal by the present Duke of Win-dsor.

With the Armistice signed I wanted to have a few fights for money, but I was still a soldier and the order came for me to go to France to represent Australia in the Al-lied Armies Championship.


Fighting ‘Digger’ Makes A Comeback

The same fighting spirit shown by “Digger” Evans in the A.I.F. and in his great fights at the Syd-ney Stadium after the war, allowed him to make a comeback after an absence of two years from the ring with an athletic heart. The holiday grated on the nerves of the smiling Evans, who thought nothing more exhilarating than a good scrap.

In this concluding story Evans reviews boxing and tells of the champions he has met and seen. “The importation’s of today cannot rank with those of other days,” he says.

ONE hundred odd fights in the A.I.F., and six fights in the first three months after my return to Australia found me panting for breath with the slightest exertion. My six appearances at the Sydney Stadium were against Jackie Green, Sid Godfrey, Pug Macario, Joe Symonds and twice against Silvano Jamito and it required quite a bit of energy to match the cleverness of those chaps.

My doctor took such a serious view of my condition that he told promoters that it would be dangerous to match me. I had an athletic heart. A short holiday was benefi-cial, and I took the first opportunity of a job so that I would keep in some sort of fet-tle.

For two years I worked at silo building and other jobs until I forgot that I had a heart. I felt fit enough now to pop the ques-tion to promoters and was given a fight with Jimmy Ryan. Charlie Lucas was away in England with George Cook and so I was taken in hand by Pat McHugh. And I think that Pat was the only person other than myself who thought I had a chance of vic-tory.

Licked Three Bantam Champions

IN out-pointing Ryan, I upset one of the good things of the season.

My come-back was a surprise to the manager of the Stadium who straight away matched me Jimmy Semmens, a clever Victorian bantam, Semmens could not adapt himself to my southpaw stance and I won the decision.

That made three bantam champions I had licked - Green, Jannese and Semmens, but I never held the title as on each occa-sion I was over-weight.

My next fight was with Macario Villon, who would have given in, but for his sec-onds who kept him at it. Seeing how things were, I got careless, and was trying to knock him, when he let fly a wild swing from behind his heels. He pegged me on the clothes line like a shirt. At this stage fights were only a side-line with me. I was working at my (text missing)

I retired from boxing with a record that was unusual - I did not win or lose a fight on a foul.
When I look back on my fighting days I always think of the Uren family - three brothers and all fighters above the ordi-nary. I fought Ted and Havilah in New Zealand.

Tommy Uren was in my opinion, one of the best fighters I’ve seen, irrespective of weight. He held the Australian lightweight, welterweight and middleweight titles in an era when great fighters from all parts of the compass were in Australia.

All importations went under to him at some time or other, which is a record to be proud of.

When a welter Uren defeated three of the world’s greatest middleweights - Eddie McGoorty, Jimmy Clabby and Fritz Hol-land - and I doubt if any other welter in the world could have accomplished such a feat. Both Clabby and McGoorty had knock-out victories over Dave Smith, who was heavyweight champion, but Uren was able to stay the distance with them each on at least one occasion, to win points deci-sions.

Beautifully moulded, strong and with a fighting heart, Uren’s footwork was good, while he was the best in-fighter in the game. As a fighter he could be classed as next to the late Les Darcy.
I have told you something of Jimmy Wilde. I have never met a man who timed punches so well as the little Welshman. That was the main factor in his many suc-cesses.

Greater Incentive For Lads Needed

MANY have asked me why boxing has its ups and downs in Australia. The reason sticks out like grandma’s only tooth. Those running the sport are doing nothing to at-tract the lads to don a glove. The promoter who puts on a good tourney with big cash prizes could make the proviso that winners of the various divisions would fight under his banner for a year or so
The winners would not only be recom-pensed for their efforts, but…(text missing) If the men from overseas are good they help to build up the standard here, as the lads who assist them in training must learn something from them. Such men as Jack Johnson, Jimmy Clabby, Jeff Smith, Kid Lewis, Eugene Criqui, and Llew Edwards were responsible for the uplift of the sport to a degree.

This was the boxer’s Mecca, but things have changed. The first class fighters of America cannot be induced to come to Aus-tralia, as they can get dollars where they would only get pennies in this country. The consequence is that we are only getting second, third and fourth rate fighters. From them our boys cannot expect to learn a thing. In fact Jack Carroll, Mickey Miller and a few others could teach the importa-tion’s quite a lot.

My experience is that there is good money in boxing for promoters when there is a boom. The Stadium people nearly cracked their faces laughing at the manner in which the fans turned up to see fights in which I took part, but they cannot take any credit for having discovered me. I was sold to them by a boxing salesman - Charlie Lucas. I was ready-made, the product of many tournaments.

Importation’s Should Be Of Good Standard

IF Stadium managers made their prize worth while they could attract boys from the outback for a Golden Glove Tourney. Boxing fans would watch them climbing the ladder, and would pay homage as they have done down the years to Bill Squires, Bert Spargo, Kid McCoy, Hugh Mehegan, Les Darcy and a host of others.

In my opinion promoters should not en-tertain an importation unless he is hall marked.
Some of the fighters who have shown up from abroad in recent years would not have been allowed to swing a towel at the Stadium 20 years ago.

Well-advertised fighters who fail to de-liver the goods are no good to boxing. The fight game in Australia would have been better off today had we not seen some of the “boomed” matches of the last year or so. Some of the men we have seen couldn’t even be classed as showmen.
Many champions are unearthed by trav-elling boxing booths. Albert Lloyd, George Cook, Mickey Miller, Jackie Green and Billy Grime being a few who have devel-oped their talents in the sawdust.

Whenever a boxing troupe came to Co-bar, my home town, they found dozens of lads waiting to take a glove. When the troupe moved on, the desire for a scrap remained, and scarcely a Sunday morning passed without there being a bare knuckle fight.

The Heart Of A Lion

THE best laugh I got out of a fight was when a pupil of mine was put in the ring as a substitute at short notice. He stopped a right swing with his chin and was sent sprawling. It was the final bout and the band played “God save the King,”soon af-ter he went down I told the lad to get up. “No----fear,”he answered, “I’m sitting this one out.”

For an outstanding ring performance I hand the belt to Harry Greb, of America. On his way to the Albert Hall, where he was to fight for the light-heavyweight championship of America and the British Empire, he was knocked down by a motor car. He had very little skin on him when he arrived at the dressing room; he was shaken badly as well. We all thought he would give his opponent a walk-over, but not he. He insisted on going into the ring and he was a mass of sticking plaster when he climbed through the ropes

His two opponents had reason to regret that the motor car had not made a better job of it’s victim.

Greb fought twice that night and won on each occasion. He made me laugh when he said that motors could hit hard but without direction.

A great fight that sticks in my mind was that between Eugene Criqui and Cabanello Dencio. The Frenchman had a great wal-lop that had toppled many opponents, while Dencio was a great little scrapper, with a record that included a one round victory over Sid Godfrey. Criqui and Den-cio fought like demons.

Criqui looked all in. Odds were bet against him seeing out the distance, and some were making for the exit, when he caught the Manila boy with a right upper-cut. It was a punch similar to the one with which he knocked me out in Paris, and it was curtains for Dencio.Criqui won the world title from Johnny Kilbane.

Writing of Criqui reminds me of another great little French fighter - Charles Le-doux. But when I saw Ledoux he was op-posed to the best featherweight I’ve seen - Jimmy Driscoll. Driscoll was making a come-back. He gave masterly exhibition until his strength gave out. He had not the strength to stand up to a Ledoux battery and fell over from sheer exhaustion.
American Mike O’Dowd was a great middleweight I saw in action. He defeated Bombardier Billy Wells and other heavy-weights. Good judges told me that he would have been a grand match for Darcy. He resembled Darcy in physique and fight-ing heart.

Of referees I can say much in little. Abroad I fought under Eugene Corri, the late Mr Douglas and Alf Bridges. In Aus-tralia the third man was either Joe Wallis, ValQuirk, Tim Tracey, “Dowder” Wardell or E. Elliot. I accepted their decisions without demur, even though they didn’t fa-vor me. They were all fine referees.

I would like to be starting out on my boxing career again, and I would not ask for a better break than I got as a fighter. I have thrown off all effects of an athletic heart, and can do a hard day’s work and like it. I have taken no ill effects with me from the ring and still maintain my grin.
The boys who use their heads and feet, as well as their hands in boxing have the chance of enjoying later days as I am do-ing.

Copyright Mike Hitchen, Lane Cove, NSW, Australia. All rights reserved

Bill Squires vs Tommy Burns August 1908

Report of The Fight From Sydney Morning Herald August 25, 1908

* BURNS WINS

*
WORLD’S CHAMPIONSHIP

*
A CLEAN WILLING CONTEST

*
OVER 15,000 PRESENT

* 24,000 OUTSIDE THE ENCLOSURE

*
SPLENDID STRUGGLE BY SQUIRES

*
CHAMPIONS METHODS A REVELATION

Tommy Burns retained the boxing championship of the world yesterday, when he knocked out Bill Squires, the champion of Australia, in the thirteenth round, surrounded by the doleful countenances of 15,000 Australian spectators.

The fight was one of the most exciting that Australia has seen for many years. From start to finish it was full of movement, bright and willing, and both men fought with a punctilious fairness that won the admiration of adverse barrackers. The fortunes veered to and fro, and though Squires prevailed during the first ten rounds - at times almost overwhelmingly - Burns showed such marvelous recuperative powers that at no time did the contest appear one-sided.
As he stripped off, Burns did not look too well facialy. He was pale and the statement that he’d been under medical attendance suffering from a cold was easily realized. Squires, much whiter in the skin than when he left, seemed fully fit, but on the light side.

The stadium was well filled, over 15,000 people being present. A crowd numbering almost 24,000 persons cluttered outside the enclosure, and on the eminence’s near by, from where glimpses of the ring could be obtained. On the apex of the telegraph poles near by stood three men, silhouetted against the skyline, enjoying a view equal to that obtained from the five guinea seats. Dozens of American officers were present, as well as many leading citizens of Sydney and other Australian capitals.

The issue leaves no doubt as to the respective merits of the two men. Barring accident, Squires would be beaten by Burns every day in the week, and that in spite of the fact that the Australian prevailed during nearly the whole of yesterdays fight, and at every stage was the undoubted winner on points. The difference between the two men is that Squires is a pugilist - a pugilist who has developed his powers to a high degree, but still only a pugilist. Burns is a scientist who has applied his brain to solving the problem of the knock-out. That he did not become an eminent bacteriologist or chemist is merely the accident of circumstances.

The factors that have made him a champion fighter might have won him the Rumford medal - all but one. Added to his scientific precision of boxing is a capacity for taking punishment which is almost superhuman. It may be possible to hurt Burns with a battle-ax, but most of those who witnessed his performance yesterday would be inclined to doubt it. Squires rained upon the apparently soft, boyish, face of the champion sufficient blows to satisfy any three followers of the game whom Australia can remember. But they did not trouble Burns.

After the nervous shock following the first impact, they seemed to pass entirely out of his mind, and two minutes after the spectators expected him to fall in a state of collapse, he was entering into the fight with a cheerful vim of a man answering the crash of the first gong.

The contest between Squires and Burns was the contest between the Bull and the matador-with this exception. The Latin countries have yet to produce a matador willing to tire out the bull by allowing it to toss and gore him for half an hour. This is what Burns did. When he stopped to deliver the final stroke Squires was already a beaten man - beaten by the awful exertion of banging his fists against the basalt countenance of Mr. Noah Brusso. True it is that there was another matter which passed unnoticed by many, but which was apparently brought under the notice of Squires in a marked manner. Every time they hit in holds Burns continued to invest his blows with the preponderance of weight. And to direct them on more vulnerable points.

Squires might make much with the showy artillery of his straight left and swinging uppercuts, but Burns was confident in the resistant powers of his Harveyised jaw, was content to pound away with the unostentatious infantry of the half-arm jabs until it was time to bring up the cavalry.

Up to the end of the tenth round the Australian crowd was happy. Though the fight was well contested throughout, Squires was so much in the ascendant that it looked extremely probable that Colma and Paris would be avenged.. Then Burns - the Burns who had been battered unmercifully for half an hour - seemed to mysteriously develop a faculty for hitting Squires. Up to that time he had hardly delivered a long blow, and most of the short ones had passed unseen. On the other hand, Squires who had spent a glorious half hour inflicting the blows, suddenly and just as mysteriously grew weak. It was not the short jabs of the clinches that did it. It was simply that Squires was exhausted by the hard work he had done. He was in the same state of collapse as any other athlete after strenuous exertion and when the twelfth round opened it was just as if the runner who had just breasted the tape after a ten mile race was pitted against a boxer straight from the training room.

The concourse of spectators suddenly made the acquaintance of a new Burns. Not only did he accept the few blows which Squire still inflicted with a smile on his face, not only did he continue to jog blows with a bent elbow in Squires in the clinches, but he showed a new faculty - the faculty of standing off his opponent and sending in long well-aimed hits that went straight to their marks like the thrusts of a lance. When Squires came forward for the thirteenth round there was scarcely an Australian in the crowd that did not realize that the day was lost. There was an exchange and a clinch, in which Burns jabbed heavily; then a scuffle, in which Squires made a final desperate attempt at a knock-out.

The men clinched again, and more from exhaustion than the effects of any of the blows, the Australian sank to the floor. He rose at the end of nine seconds to the cheers of his countrymen, but Burns with cool confidence struck, struck Squires three times. At the third, Squires fell. He did not sink this time. Eight seconds were counted before he came up this time. The final blow was scarcely a second later. Burns chose his spot, sent in a left hook, and Squires, crumpling up like a sheet of wet paper, fell face downwards. His second threw in the towel in token of surrender, but it was not until long after the expiration of the ten seconds limit that Squires was able to stand.

Briefly, the fight belonged to Burns from beginning to end. Despite the fact that Squires was “all over” him for several rounds, there is not much doubt that had he seen the necessity, Burns may have applied aggressive tactics at any period, though his method was plainly to let Squires tire himself out before making his effort.

As a spectacular boxer, Burns is a failure. He wins fights, but his is the art that conceals art. He has almost resolved pugilism to the art of touching buttons.

As for Squires, his boxing was never seen in Australia to better advantage. He has developed tremendously since leaving Australia. All the same, possibly through continued attacks of rheumatism, he has lost his punch. Heavy as were many of the blows that landed on Burns yesterday, they were far less destructive than those which won him his fights before he sought honors abroad.

The management of the fight had a telephone at ringside and through the whole thirteen rounds, Mr. McIntosh communicated the varying phases of the battle to Mrs. Burns, who stood at the other end of the wire, waiting to learn of her husbands' fortune. As Squire was counted out, the receiver was handed to Burns, who was heard to say, “Is that you jewel? This is Tahmy. It’s all right.”

One salient factor of the contest was the American method of fighting adopted by both men, which is new to this land. Under such interpretation of the rules hitting in holds is not only permissible, but permissible to a degree astonishing to Australian followers of the sport. Throughout clinches the men hit one another wherever an opening showed, and even when the referee drags the reluctantly apart, they continue to swing in a variety of blows, until they are out of range. Under these conditions of boxing the position of the referee is certainly no sinecure, and Mr. Nathan who officiated yesterday, had several narrow escapes. One of these days when the referee is knocked out in the middle of a hot fight, the high court of pugilism will have a difficult point to settle.

THE CONTEST

In Squires corner there was Arthur Cripps, William McColl, J. Russell, Charles Frost and in Burns’s corner Arthur Scott, J. McDonald, O’Keefe and Kelly his manager. Mr. Nathan was referee and Mr. W. Kerr timekeeper.

Squires appeared first and was heralded by a tremendous outburst of applause, which terminated in three ringing cheers. Burns was also accorded sufficient applause to dispel any idea that Australians were unsportsmanlike.

The champion won the toss for the selection of corners, a matter of considerable importance, considering the bright sun that was shining on the ring, and which caught the Australian full in the eyes at each advance.

The Opening Rounds

In the first round Squires prevailed all the time, hitting Burns ten times with his right and getting home a good right cross on the jaw. He also got in an effective blow on the solar plexus.
In the second round Squires hit heavily and brought blood from Burns’s nose. He finished the round with a nasty blow on Burns’s jaw, and the round ended in favor of Squires.

Squires Aggressive

The third round saw much sparring on the part of both contestants. The two men were very wary, and Squires fighting coolly, was contented with giving the champion a few light body blows.
At the conclusion of the exhibition of sparring the two men clinched and Squires managed to land a heavy hit before the breakaway. He also succeeded in getting in a splendid uppercut during the clinch. Burns shortly afterwards managed to send home a fine punch on Squires jaw and then warming to his work, he made the running, attacking splendidly, and placing Squires on the defensive.

The fourth round opened in clinches. Both men hit heavily. Burns brightened up considerably, and put more vigor into his fight than ever. He brought blood from Squires mouth and going in again Squires dropped down from a right on the jaw. A few seconds later Squires hit Burns with a right uppercut.

Burns’s Recuperative Powers

In the fourth round Burns brightened up considerably. He fought with more vigor, and brought blood from Squires mouth. Squires with a right uppercut gained the ascendancy again, and after a hot rally landed a solar plexus blow which doubled Burns up. A moment later the champion seemed as though he were going out, but his marvelous powers of recovery, which were manifest throughout the whole fight, were seen at their highest in this round. Towards the conclusion, Squires punished him severely, and though he seemed groggy towards the end, the moment the gong sounded he sprang to his corner with the agility of a fresh man.

Fighting in holds characterized the first minute of the fifth round. Squires prevailed in the out-fighting, but Burns got in several effective hits at close quarters, and at one breakaway just missed outing Squires with a left swing at the jaw. Squires made amends towards the end of the round, and a succession of blows seemed to leave Burns weak again. The round on the whole was a very even one.

Squires Has A Narrow Escape

Just as the sixth round opened, and the men broke from their first clinch, Squires had another narrow escape, an upper-cut from Burns just grazing his jaw. Burns was fighting better thanks to a few solid jabs on Squires body in the clinches. Squires, however, contrived towards the end to get home a right cross, which made Burns fall forward on to his shoulder, and clinch to save himself

Spectators Expect Squires To Win

The seventh round opened with Squires landing heavy blows, right and left on the champion's jaw. Spectators imagined that Burns was about tot collapse. There was a scene of wild excitement. People rose and cheered, the din increasing as Squires followed Burns again, punching him right and left. Just as they expected Burns to receive a knock-out blow, he pulled himself together, and fought for a seconds like a tiger. Both men were weak at the call of time.
Burns Takes Punishment Well

The eighth round was even and willing, but Squires prevailed, landing repeated blows on his adversary’s jaw. The effect of these however, was only momentary, for the sound of the blow scarcely died away before Burns was as sound as ever.

Both Men Score

Both men were obvisouly weak from heavy fighting. Burns had the better of some hot exchanges in the south east corner. Squires turned the tables a few seconds later with an upper-cut, seemingly of great weight, but beyond driving Burns back for the moment, it affected him little.
Squires opened the tenth round with a number of light blows on Burns’s head. The champion took these without wincing, and waiting for his chance, shot in a nasty one on Squire’s body, following it up with several heavy punches in holds. A second left swing on the solar plexus left Squires so weak that the gong practically saved him from collapse.

Beginning Of The End

Squires rushed upon Burns, apparently fully recovered, when the twelfth round opened. A few willing exchanges followed, and though at one period both men fought more wildly than at any other time of the contest, Burns was apparently awaiting his chance. At last he saw it. His left shot out without warning and though Squires countered well, the champion had all the better of the scuffle that followed at close quarters.

Squires Unlucky Number

Burns lost no time in getting to business when the thirteenth round opened. He landed repeatedly on Squires’s body in holds, and led when they broke away. Within a minute of the gong there was a rally in which Squires, who was manifestly weak in the knees and groggy, fell from sheer exhaustion. He rested for nine seconds and rose to the accompaniment of loud cheering. The respite was short. Burns came towards him and now landing long length hits, punished the Australian severely. A heavy left swing on the side of the head sent him to the floor again. He took the count of eight seconds, but was scarcely on his feet before his merciless adversary was on him. A left hook took the Australian on the jaw, and he fell with his face flat on the floor. His seconds at the same time cast in the towel.


BURNS INTERVIEWED
“One of the hardest fights of my life.”

The champion, when seen after the contest, said - “I had one of the hardest fights of my life. I was not well; the climate has affected me, and I have been suffering from a heavy cold. Indeed, last Saturday morning they called in a doctor to see me. I’ve not been myself at all, and have felt slow and tired. My right arm is not too good, as I wrenched it while sparring and could not use it as I would like to. You can take it from me, Bill is one of the gamest and strongest fighters I have ever met. He is certainly no “false alarm,” as the American press called him, and he could beat most of the heavyweights in the world. I want to thank Mr. McIntosh for the magnificent manner in which he has organized this fight. Everything was perfect, and I never want to fight before a fairer audience, or have a better rival. I did my best, and I hope the public were satisfied.”

SQUIRES STILL CONFIDENT

“I did my best.”

“I did my best,” said Squires, “I had a bit of bad luck. If I had my old punch back, I would make him sit up. What I want is two or three more fights, and then if I don’t win, my name’s not Bill Squires.”

He said he did not feel very much distressed as a result of the punishment he had received, and expected to be all right in a few days.

Copyright Mike Hitchen, Lane Cove, NSW, Australia. All rights reserved