Winner & New Champeen!

Arnold Raymond Cream, who fights under the name of Jersey Joe Walcott, is a first-rate boxer, and he can hit. Many a fan who saw him fight Joe Louis in 1947 (he knocked Louis down in the first round, nearly knocked him out in the fourth) thought Jersey Joe got a raw decision then. In the 21 years he has been bouncing around the fight game, Jersey Joe has had a lot of tough breaks. In all, Joe tried four times against Joe Louis and Ezzard Charles. Last week in Pittsburgh's Forbes Field before the largest fight crowd (28,-272) of the year, Jersey Joe got his last chance at the world heavyweight title.

Round One was just like the 30 others that Champion Charles and Jersey Joe had fought: undistinguished Charles won it from overcautious Walcott. After that, everything was different. Walcott, known as a "cutie" (a hit & run fighter who upsets an opponent's timing with flurries of punches, then dances away), switched his style and went after his man. Only once did he revert to his crablike defense.

Rapid Fire. By the fifth round old Jersey Joe, 37, conserving his energy and making every blow count, had slowed down his younger (30) rival. Walcott's sneak right--the one that caught Louis-opened a gash in Charles's lip. A left cut Charles under his right eye. Another right to the jaw staggered Charles just as the bell rang. Not until the sixth round did Walcott effectively use his new trick: a head-snapping left hook. Four of them, rapid-fire, stung Charles into the bout's first real excitement, an explosive, counterpunching flurry which had Challenger Walcott backing away.

In Round Seven, with both fighters sparring cautiously in mid-ring, Walcott suddenly shot his left hook again. Neither Charles, nor 25 million televiewers, saw the blow coming. The punch caught the champion flush on the jaw, felled him like a poled ox. As the referee tolled "seven," Charles tried to get up, sank back, and at "ten" was out cold.

Nobody was more surprised than Walcott himself. Back in his corner, Jersey Joe was so choked with emotion that at first he could hardly utter a word. He slid to his knees, and only his bustling, happy handlers kept him from collapsing to the canvas. But at the TV mike he recovered and delivered a muscularly religious sermon. As he later told reporters: "I've worked for 21 years for this night. I read my Bible before the fight I prayed between every round. I asked God to help me."

"Wanna See the Boy." Then Jersey Joe Walcott, ex-longshoreman, ex-hod carrier, who spent a bitter year and a half on home relief and who lost 15 of his 64 listed fights because "hunger was my house guest," went home to Camden, N.J. to his wife and six children, the oldest man in history to win the World Heavyweight Championship.

He also went home to a triumph. Camden's mayor decreed an official Joe Walcott day, joined 100,000 Jerseyites in front of city hall, flaunting banners: "Welcome Home Champ," "Good Job, Joe." In the jostling crowd, one fan straight-armed a policeman in his effort to get near his idol, shouting: "Wanna see the boy. Close-up like. Not way back here."

Joe tried to tell the crowd how he felt, but the public-address system broke down, and only a handful of newsmen and politicians heard him say: "I made this bargain with the Lord. I told God if He'd let me do it, I'd dedicate the rest of my life and my money to Him and His works. Well, He kept his end of the bargain, and I'm ready to keep mine." Next day, Joe went to teach Sunday school at the Asbury Methodist Church in nearby Merchantville.

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