Armstrong v. Ross

Another right to the jaw, another left, another right, and still another right, and still another. . . . The 30,000 spectators shrieked to have the fight stopped. They had gone to Madison Square Garden's Long Island Bowl prepared to see a lively boxing match between 28-year-old Welterweight Champion Barney Ross, who had never been knocked out in ten years of prizefighting, and Challenger Henry Armstrong, 25-year-old Negro, who had knocked out 35 of his 37 opponents in the past 18 months. But they were not prepared to see one of the most brutal beatings in the history of the prize ring.

Every round was the same. Challenger Armstrong sprang out of his corner and in a split second was toe-to-toe and chest-to-chest with his opponent. For 15 rounds he pounded ring-wise Barney Ross with relentless fury--1.200 punches in 45 minutes. Barney Ross, dripping blood and teetering on his helpless legs, refused to quit, went the full 15 rounds rather than have his first knockout chalked against him.

Having punched the welterweight (147 Ib. maximum) crown off Barney Ross's head, Henry Armstrong, already holder of the featherweight (126 Ib. maximum) title, became the first fisticuffer in the long annals of pugilism to wear both crowns at the same time.*

Altogether, Henry Armstrong is a fairly rare individual. His strength and his stamina astound fight fans. Although his legs are spindly, his shoulders and arms are as brawny as a stevedore's. At the end of 15 rounds of whirlwind boxing last week, he was breathing no harder than the average person who climbs a flight of subway stairs. His amazing stamina doctors attribute to slow heart action. His powerful arms and shoulders Henry Armstrong attributes to his first job: swinging a sledge hammer in a railroad section gang.

Born Henry Jackson, he was known as a "sissy" among his St. Louis schoolmates because of his skinny legs and dainty hands --and the fact that he thought football too rough. He wanted to be a surgeon. One of the older boys in the neighborhood --one Harry Armstrong--taught him to box to protect himself against bullies. After graduating from high school, he hitchhiked to Los Angeles with his coach to try to earn some money to go to college. They soon found themselves in the Los Angeles bread lines. There a local fight promoter named Tom Cox picked them up one day and offered them $1 apiece to box on his programs. No great shakes was Henry Jackson.

But Wirt Ross, a shrewd fight manager, saw possibilities in Henry Jackson, offered Promoter Cox $250 for the skinny-shanked featherweight's contract. The first thing Wirt Ross did was to change Henry Jackson's name to Henry Armstrong. The name worked like a charm. Henry Armstrong became a two-fisted swinger who went into the ring punching and never stopped until he knocked out his exhausted opponent.

Among the spectators who saw him defeat Baby Arizmendi, onetime featherweight champion, at Los Angeles' Wrigley Field 22 months ago was Blackface Singer Al Jolson. Impressed, Singer Jolson agreed to lend his friend, Fight Manager Eddie Mead, $5,000 to buy Armstrong's contract. Under the management of Mead, Armstrong piled up 37 victories in a row, became the outstanding boxer of 1937.

For last week's fight Henry Armstrong received $27,203 of which he must pay 33 1/3% to Manager Mead and 10% to the original Harry Armstrong, who is now his trainer and poses as his brother. Signed up by Promoter Mike Jacobs for the next three years, Armstrong's next match will be with Lou Ambers next month for the lightweight (135 Ib.) championship of the world. If he wins it, as most experts expect, he will be the only fighter ever simultaneously to hold three titles.

*In order to tip the scales at the required 136 Ib. (welterweight minimum) for last week's fight, Armstrong, whose normal weight is 130, quaffed a mixture of ale and stout, wolfed a big breakfast before weighing in. When the fight was postponed from its original date because of rain, he was not required to scale 136 again.

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