Vale Phil Barrett. 1953-2012.

March 6, 2012. Last year we published this profile of Adelaide middleweight Phil Barrett. Sad to report Phil passed away suddenly on Wednesday, heart attack suspected. He was 58.

Phil Barrett decking Alan Foster at Melbourne Festival Hall, 1973.

Last August when I wrote Phil had recovered from cancer - detected in his groin, shoulder and pancreas - but the Phil Barrett I interviewed looked fit and able. He wasn't carrying any excess weight and was in good spirits.

Slim Phil's pro debut at Adelaide Redlegs Nightclub. March 1972: Chris Illiopoulos on the way out.

A likeable bloke, a genial raconteur who didn't have tickets on himself. Nor did he take himself too seriously.

A knockabout who loved darts and the cameraderie that went with it.

Phil Barrett and Jimmy Bavin at Adelaide Chrysler Sports Club 1974, fighting for the S.A Middleweight Title.

Click here to read our previous story on Phil Barrett.

- MICHAEL MACDONALD.

Fight Painting Auction

A gallery of Bryan Membrey's fight paintings - over ten grand's worth - go to auction this Wednesday February 1 at 5 pm in the elite auction house Leskis, 13 Cato St, Hawthorn East, Vic.

Auction details:
Date: Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Venue:
Charles Leski Auction House
13 Cato Street, Hawthorn East, Victoria 3123 Australia
Phone: +61 3 9864 9999
Fax: +61 3 9822 2788
Lot #: 398

Samples from the auction:

JOHNNY FAMECHON, print on canvas by Bryan Membrey, signed by Johnny Famechon, and signed by the artist, each overall 49x61cm. From the artist's personal collection.	TONY MUNDINE & HECTOR THOMPSON: "They Fought the World's Best. Light Heavy weights - Tony Mundine. Light weights - Hector Thompson", original painting by Bryan Membrey, watercolour, signed lower right, window mounted, overall 52x65cm. From the artist's personal collection.
"LIONEL ROSE", original painting by Bryan Membrey, watercolour, signed by Lionel Rose and the artist, window mounted, framed & glazed, overall 66x80cm. From the artist's personal collection.	"SUGAR RAY ROBINSON", original painting by Bryan Membrey, acrylic on canvas board, signed lower right, overall 61x76cm. From the artist's personal collection.

For more details visit http://www.livebidonline.com/catalogues/common/forthcoming.php?id=398

Boxing Bookcase Dave Russell "Never a Backward Step", by David Carroll

Reviewed by GARY LUSCOMBE

The launch of Dave Russell's book, 'Never a Backward Step' by David Carroll, drew a huge attendance of five hundred -- family, friends, boxing officials.

Dave Russell always had a following in the ring, swelling on his way from the amateurs (1980-83) to professional Australian heavyweight champion 1987, Australian and World Boxing Federation cruiserweight champion 1992. The new book captures heaps.

I thought I knew a lot about Dave Russell from following his amateur and pro career until I read this book by Dave Carroll.

Author Carroll spent five years researching Russell's life. The end result is a complete truthful, no holds barred, well written life story of a true champion and local hero.

There is a whole chapter devoted to Mick Canavan which is worth the price on its own.

I have read approximately four hundred boxing books : The Dave Russell story, "Never a Backward Step" by David Carroll, is one that I enjoyed reading from start to finish and recommend.

Lionel on Canvas night

Artist Bryan Membrey and Victorian Minister for Aboriginal Affairs, Janette Powell, with the prized canvas of Lionel.	Lightweight luminaries, Graeme Brooke and Leo Young.
THREE HEIRS OF LIONEL. Bob Liddle, Rob Peden, Graeme Brooke, line up with artist and minister.
Three veterans. wordie Mike Ryan, gaming pioneer Nappy Ollington, ring singer Brian Young.

Victorian Premier and Minister for Arts Ted Baillieu sent his congratulations. Minister for Aboriginal Affairs, Janette Powell came in person to honour Bryan Membrey's art exhibition night, Lionel Rose on Canvas, in the Vermont South Community Centre. The hall was filled with boxing identities to see the canvas which Membrey calls his favourite painting: over pictures that go back 40 years to FIGHTER Magazine cover, 'Dream Match: Rose v Famechon'.

Want to buy a copy of this Lionel on Canvas for your home? Email: membreysport@aol.com for details.

The Aus who whipped Cassius

Did you know an Australian boxer stopped Cassius Clay/Muhammad Ali? And who was it?

Millions of words written about Ali bypass the first of his three bouts with Tony Madigan. It's in one of the earliest books among the scores of volumes written about the Louisville Lip. Jose Torres' book, ‘Sting Like a Bee', tells us:

“In 1958 Cassius won the Louisville Golden Gloves light-heavyweight crown and advanced to the quarter finals of the Tournament of Champions in Chicago, before suffering his first defeat at the hands of the Australian, Tony Madigan. ‘Cassius was hurt in the stomach,' recalls coach Joe Martin,'and I signaled the referee to stop it. I didn't want the kid to get hurt unnecessarily'.

Clay was a high school student aged 16 with about 60 bouts behind him. Still at high school the following year, Clay met Madigan again in Chicago in the Tournament of Champions, being the National Golden Gloves. Torres says Clay's win was “close”.

He rated their third clash in Rome 1960 Olympic semi-final “a hard fought battle.”

Tony Madigan is generally classed as Australia's best amateur boxer of all. Commonwealth Games gold medals 1958 and 1962, besides the Olympic bronze. But to see him as a man who stopped Cassius Clay puts a new jewel in his crown.

The oldest who never ages

Big grin from Dudley, middle-aged marvel. Assistant coach William Temm, right.

The cheerful figure looks barely middle age. In fact he is probably the oldest fitness coach in the world. Currently Keith Dudley has 35 learners gloving up in the class where he has coached for the past 10 years at North Sydney PCYC gymnasium. He is 78 years old.

I can tell KD's age by tracking back to our time on National Service at Laverton air force base outside Melbourne. We were the Nissen-hut Nashos of Flight 3, Third intake, Royal Australian Air Force. They said KD and I looked rather like one another.

One chilly morning, while on parade at this time of the year, I skimmed a pebble across the parade ground. NCOs spotted me, I gave my identity as FX 38006.

Later Keith Dudley was seen being marched across the ground between two guards with rifles and fixed bayonets. He was the real FX 38006.

KD teaches more than Queensberry moves...

In half a century since then, Dudda, as they called KD, was an irresistible salesman, sales manager in major companies, won two national lotteries and lived noticeably in bayside Melbourne and north shore Sydney.

His boxing life blazed with brief glory. At age 14 he floored the Victorian senior featherweight champion and remembers the fallen man's mother running down the aisle screaming "Kenny!"

In an amateur career of 60 bouts Keith Dudley lost only two (to George Howell aka Jimmy Wilde, and Ned Wilson. He trained at Spartels, the colourful City gym in Elizabeth St. KD sparred with Rudy Cruz, the fastest boxer he ever saw (rates Sugar Ray Robinson the best). At Spartels he knocked California champ, Cecil Schoonmaker clean out of the ring on his back. Luckily for Cecil the ring was floor level. Dudley was sparring with top-notch pros, Norm Gent and Archie Kemp, and his confidence soared.

Having beaten four State senior champs when still a junior, now a featherweight nearing 17, he had his eye on Empire Games selection. KD says the ABA president told him not to bother filling in a form to enter the trials, he would do it for him. "The night came, they told me I hadn't entered."

KD's thick upper body and slim legs made him bigger than most opponents He hit harder than most, and at the same time moved faster. In the lightweight division, limit 9 st 10 ½.

Scalps on Dudley's amateur belt were the Frenchman Danny Daniliuc, and Empire Games medalist Brian Cahill. Among pros he conquered were Johnny Greek and Ted Cotter.

The new professional was trained by Harry Ivory. KD lost a couple of close ones to other celebrated ex-amateurs, Bryan Membrey and Len Ermil. He was soon up to eight- and ten-rounders, knocking them out. The 19-year-old's career looked wide open when he suddenly retired. "My dad had always said, 'I'll tell you when to quit."

After periods as regional manager of Ampol, Avon and other big firms, Keith Dudley went independent. He was teaching customer services to 120 staff of Jon Konrads' chain of pools when the great swimmer suggested he start a self-defence department.

Returning to the boxing world, KD trained and (weighing 11 stone) sparred light-heavyweight Tony Madigan back from the USA. That greatest Aussie amateur duly attained his last hurrah, Games gold in Perth 1962.

North Sydney gym, group and coach.

@The other day my old air force mate Dudda recalled that opening episode. FX 38006 reckons I hit the flight sergeant on the back of the head with a small stone; the sarge wheeled round, sighted my hand dropping, bailed me up. I blurted Dudda's number.

After parade they marched him prisoner from the Nissen hut, rifles and bayonets. I recall him grinning wide as he marched.

You'd reckon he would dob the dobber -- but he did not even tell them they had the wrong FX.

- Mike C Ryan, RAAF Nat Serv, Flight 3, Intake 3. Forgotten FX no.

Phil Barrett, Always on Target

By MICHAEL MACDONALD

'I've been kicked by the wind, robbed by the sleet
Had my head stoved in but I'm still on my feet
And I'm still willin' " (Lowell George)

"I really enjoyed it!" says Phil Barrett reflecting on a boxing career that carried him through the entire 1970's. Barrett was one of Australia's more talented Middleweights during an era when Tony Mundine cast a singular shadow over the division.

Barrett's professional record of 8 wins, 12 losses and 2 draws is frustratingly misleading- on his night Barrett was a free flowing agile boxer with the ability to deliver KOs from both hands. What cursed Barrett through his professional tenure were suspect decisions and eye cuts. All in the roll of the dice.

"Nothing wrong with Phil when he pulled the gloves on!" offers fellow South Australian and former opponent Jim Bavin. He fought Phil on four occasions.

Born in 1953 and raised in the Woodville area, eight miles north-west of Adelaide, Phil Barrett began his sporting life as a promising Australian Rules footballer. A ruckman with a high leap Barrett had already claimed several best & fairest awards in the suburban leagues when a chance visit to Wilf Withey's garage gym in Royal Park gave him a particular insight into boxing. Phil had more than a passing interest in boxing during his teens and what he saw at Withey's gym truly lit the fuse.

Holding something of a guru-like status within Adelaide boxing circles Withey offered immediate tuition and then placed Barrett into the amateur ranks. Phil's amateur career only extended to two bouts during 1971 but the second bout was a decision over Jimmy Bavin, then one of South Australia's more accomplished amateurs. Bavin himself recalls the bout only too well "He gave me leather poisoning!" offers the dry humoured Adelaidian who later fought an elimination bout for selection in the Munich Olympics.

Barrett accepts Bavin's blunt analysis with some surprise, suggesting it was actually the reverse. "That's why Wilf pushed me into turning pro!" he adds with equal dry humour.

For his professional debut in March 1972 Withey placed Phil in a four rounder against local pug Chris Illiopolous at Adelaide's Redlegs Nightclub. Feeling a strong adrenalin rush from the excitement of his first pro outing Barrett knocked Illiopolous out 100 seconds into the first round.

Maintaining the momentum Barrett then followed through with two bouts with Jimmy Bavin who had turned professional the same month as Phil. The first bout was halted in the fourth round when a cut opened over Barrett's eye. Something that was to dog Barrett through his career, he attributes cuts simply to bone structure. With his high cheekbones and sharp brow ridges Barrett concedes they often offered an open invitation to deep cuts.

The return bout was a tough four round draw providing ample proof that both Barrett and Bavin would soon elevate themselves out of the preliminaries.

Brought over to Melbourne to box on one of Jack Rennie's independent promotions at Essendon's International Hotel Barrett was matched with the cagey and experienced Darryl Smith. An often difficult opponent with a cautious negative technique Smith was held to a six round draw by Barrett who was announcing himself as a genuine prospect.

A month later Barrett was back at the International Hotel accepting an assignment with a risk factor in Crib Point light- heavyweight Colin Richie. A 24 carat eccentric, Richie would preface his bouts with push-ups down on the canvas, and toss wisecracks over the top rope. He had a goatee beard and a pair of sharks tattooed on his chest Richie was boxer with a certain charisma.

Barrett watched Richie's rituals with a mix of amusement and bemusement. Accepting he was still on a learning curve within the professional ranks Barrett believes he may have been distracted by Richie's antics and was perhaps unprepared for Richie's immediate assault.

"He came at me like a bloody windmill!" explains Barrett. Caught by a big punch to the temple Barrett was knocked to the canvas. Up before the eight count Barrett pushed himself back into the fight but caught by another Richie punch the bout was halted, the referee sensing that damage was being done.

"I was quite okay." says Barrett intimating the stoppage was premature. Accepting of the decision he hoped a rematch would be on offer down the track.

Quickly shaking off the Richie defeat Phil was at South Sydney Leagues Club a month later facing polished Sydney middleweight Terry Clarke who had run up a dozen consecutive victories. In his first eight rounder Barrett matched Clarke all the way until cuts over his eyes mid bout forced the bout to be halted in Clarke's favour during round five.

Opening 1973 Barrett was rematched with Darryl Smith over eight at Elizabeth's Octagon Theatre. Learning from his first bout with Smith Barrett offered the Melbourne fighter no respite as he chased him around the ring unloading combinations and straight lefts. At the bout's conclusion Smith was awarded the decision much to the crowd's surprise and Barrett's as well.

"He gave Darryl Smith a hiding" declared Wilf Withey post bout.

Undeterred a month later Barrett and Withey were required in Boulder, West Australia to meet tough Perth middleweight Graham Wynne in what was to be Phil's first ten rounder. Flying out of Adelaide in a single engine Cessna Phil recalls a wildly uneven flight, almost yo yo like, and reliefv when they touched down.

At the Boulder Town Hall Barrett took control of Wynne and forced an eighth round stoppage over the well regarded Aboriginal hitter. The following morning Barrett and Withey elected to return to Adelaide by rail.

Back at the Octagon Theatre a month later Phil met the much travelled Melbourne boxer, Bobby McLeod over six rounds. Probably entering a career twilight McLeod was caught by a good Barrett body punch early on which proved to Barrett that McLeod's fitness was suspect. Increasing the tempo Barrett was able to put McLeod away during round four.

A fortnight later Withey brought Phil across the border for his first TV Ringside bout at Melbourne's Festival Hall, matched over six rounds against highly regarded Alan Foster. Throughout Melbourne Channel 0's boxing cards Foster had posted an unbeaten run of 15 bouts snaring victories over former middleweight champ Dick Blair and big punching Sydney based Fijian Semi Bula. At one stage he had even been touted as a possible challenger to Tony Mundine's national crown.

After Channel O's fight cards closed permanently at the end of 1971 Foster had been in a certain limbo. Crossing to Channel 7's TV Ringside in early 1973 Foster began career re-establishment with a clear points decision over Darryl Smith. Unknown to the Festival Hall regulars Barrett was initially viewed as a stepping stone in Foster's advancement.

Early in round one Barrett stunned the Melbourne crowd when he knocked Foster hard to the canvas with solid straight punch. Foster climbed off the deck but his technique was decidedly shaky thereon as the South Australian continually forced the pace. Entering the last round Foster was again knocked down from another hard Barrett blow. Up again Foster was certain to have been relieved to see out the round. He may have also been surprised when he was awarded the decision. The verdict was followed by a chorus of boos and jeers.

Eleven days later Barrett was back in Melbourne snaring the desired rematch with Colin Richie at Frankston's Pier Hotel on the Paul Moore- Steve Brown undercard. He took Richie's pre-bout routines with a certain detachment and got on with the job. Giving Richie no latitude Barrett assailed from the outset and midway during round three he sent the colourful light-heavy crashing to the canvas forcing an immediate stoppage. Richie never fought again while Phil rates the victory as one of his most accomplished.

The same night Barrett remembers something else that pricked his curiosity. Himself unpretentious and humble Barrett arrived at his bouts dressed casually often in jeans and open-necked shirt. He saw Colin Richie arrive at the Frankston Hotel in attire more appropriate for a wedding rather than a suburban boxing fixture. "I guess we are what we are," Barrett offers.

Following the Richie victory the ever-resourceful Withey was able to keep Phil active by placing him in a ten-round main event at Blacktown RSL against tough Sydney operator Ted Gray. A few months earlier Gray had been chosen as a suitable opponent for Rocky Mattioli. Testing Gray all the way Barrett made an impression with the Sydney fight followers with a solid display that saw him drop a very close decision. An honourable loss if you like.

Invited back to TV Ringside at the end of July 1973 Phil was matched with Melbourne's Tony Barlow over six rounds. A workmanlike boxer Barlow was respected by those in the know. Jim Bavin, sensing Barlow as a possible future opponent, had monitored Barlow's Melbourne bouts closely during the year and rated him highly. Barrett himself saw Barlow as an up and comer not to be treated lightly.

After an even first half Barrett began to assume control and in the final round unleashed an explosive combination of punches that had Barlow reeling and then defenceless. The bout was quickly halted in Barrett's favour. If the Alan Foster bout was indication Barrett was a fighter to be watched the Barlow victory rubber-stamped it.

Realising his potential TV Ringside then matched Phil with the big punching Samoan, Eddie Tavui over six. A year earlier Tavui had stood toe to toe with Charkey Ramon; he had recently KO'd tough Billy Fatu who once drew with Rocky Mattioli. On the day of the Tavui bout Barrett encountered what he felt were unnecessary complications.

Arriving at the Melbourne weigh-in during a Spring cold spell in jumper and jacket Barrett was confronted by matchmaker Norm Foster who insisted that Barrett looked and would be too heavy for Tavui who was expected to clock in at 11.0. A true middleweight Barrett tipped the scales at 11.7 and was instructed to shed several pounds. After a two hour sauna followed by a massage Barrett finally weighed in at 11.4.

Tavui himself registered at 11.5.

Putting a situation he considered near farcical behind him Barrett took on Tavui accordingly. Opting to box wisely while using his agility rather than trade punches toe to toe with Tavui Barrett was able to avoid the Samoan's dangerous punches and had seemingly built up a good points lead. Tavui was given the decision which did not sit well with the often parochial Melbourne crowd who booed the verdict loudly.

"You should have heard the crowd, they knew who won," said Wilf Withey, a near-statement of the obvious.

As either consolation or reward or maybe both TV Ringside elevated Phil to an eight-round co-main event. His opponent, Eli Fanua Etuate, a tank-like Tongan with unusually long arms had earlier in the year mixed it with Kahu Mahanga. A genuine tough nut.

During the first round Barrett was badly shaken by a massive Etuate punch. Picking himself up off the canvas Barrett displayed application and courage by combating the Tongan's brute strength to take him the full eight. Although he dropped the decision Barrett was embraced by the Melbourne crowd for his willingness to push himself back into the fight.

Directly after the Etuate bout FIGHTER magazine carried a profile on Phil titled "Battling Barrett". The writer Dave Allen judged that despite the Etuate setback Barrett had a solid base to work on and within twelve months would up there with Australia's top Middleweights.

Invited back to TV Ringside's final card of 1973 Barrett was matched with Ringside regular Ian Prudham over six. A dour southpaw Prudham was strictly a walk-up fighter often vulnerable to a counter-puncher. Electing to box Prudham in the same method he did against Eddie Tavui Barrett exploited his superior reach and speed seemingly collecting enough points to take the decision home. At the bout's end Prudham was crowned victor.

The TV Ringside decisions still mystify Barrett all these years later. " Maybe I didn't do enough or there was something about my style the referees didn't like? Don't know!" It would be another six years before Barrett boxed in Melbourne again.

Entering 1974 Barrett was able to secure a rematch with Eli Fanua Etuate out at Sydney's Blacktown RSL. Proving he had learned much from the first bout Barrett was travelling nicely against the tough Tongan when cuts opened over his eyes. Bad enough for referee Jimmy Carruthers to halt the bout in favour of Etuate during round six. Cut eyes Barrett now accepted as a fact of life.

Two months later Barrett's progress was fully acknowledged when he and Jimmy Bavin were matched for the South Australian Middleweight Title at Adelaide's Chrysler Sports Club. For both boxers it offered a certain luxury as neither had fought in their hometown for over twelve months.

As expected the bout was a close, uncompromising affair between boxers who had long enjoyed a healthy respect for each other. What added more interest was the contrast of styles: Barrett, the six foot plus slick mover with a good punch and Bavin the shorter, stocky calculating counter-puncher. At the bout's conclusion, referee from Melbourne Max Carlos, resplendent in checked bell-bottomed trousers, crowned Barrett state champion.

Such an even bout naturally divided opinion. "I know I got some good punches in and I'm sure Jimmy did too," muses Barrett, "but it was my head the referee put his hand on at the end." For Barrett the victory was ambition achieved : early on his initial aim was to be a state champion.

Recently both Barrett and Bavin had made a concerted joint effort to acquire footage of the title bout which had been televised by ABC Channel 2, Adelaide. After fielding calls to ABC staff in both Adelaide and Sydney Phil was finally advised the footage had either been erased or taped over.

He also learned that Lionel Rose, who was part of the programme's commentary team, supposedly owned rights to the footage!

"I think we just have to acknowledge that it is up in the ether!" offers Geoff Goodfellow, who promoted the title bout. A disappointment to both Barrett and Bavin who would have appreciated re-visiting the bout from the outside looking in.

It wasn't until November 1975 that Barrett acquired his first bout as a state champion primarily due to the dearth of boxing fixtures in Adelaide and the reduction of TV Ringside's Melbourne cards. (By the end of 1974 T.V Ringside was no longer televised).

Travelling again to Sydney Barrett was matched with another tough Sydney based Tongan, Sakaraia "Kid" Ve over eight. Having too much equipment for the Tongan Barrett landed a knock out early in the final round.

After a year inactive, Phil secured his next bout at Perth on the Hector Thompson- Lawrence "Baby Cassius" Austin undercard in June 1977. Flying out of Adelaide this time on a domestic flight Barrett arrived in Perth to meet former opponent and now Western Australian Middleweight champion, Graham Wynne over ten rounds. Again Barrett mastered the rugged Wynne and took out a clear points decision.

Two months later Barrett returned to Sydney to meet the well performed Al Gattling in a ten-round main event. From Bernie Hall's stable the Zimbabwe born Gattling was in the top bracket of Australian light- heavyweights boasting wins over former national champ Greg McNamara and New Zealand danger man Joe Jackson. Recently Gattling had defeated Phil's sometime sparring partner Terry Fox as well.

Barrett was able to match the heavier Gattling early on but in the seventh round Gattling landed some damaging blows which took the fight out of Barrett. "Sometimes in boxing you get caught with some big punches and you just can't go on. That's when the referee has to stop it.

"And that's what happened with me."

Returning to Adelaide after the Gattling bout Barrett contemplated taking time out from boxing. The rigors and demands of training plus being married and a parent forced Phil to prioritise. The break from boxing also provided him the opportunity to resume playing football.

Early on in Barrett's boxing career a minor football injury prompted Wilf Withey to deliver an ultimatum: choose football or boxing. "Ah bugger it, I thought" recalls Barrett of the incident, "I'll stick with boxing!".

In December 1979 Withey offered Phil the opportunity to fight Victorian light-heavyweight Stan Bogovic over eight at Melbourne Town Hall. Barrett gladly accepted having some inside knowledge on Bogovic as his younger brother Steve had boxed Bogovic in the amateurs. A former Australian amateur champion Bogovic had turned professional during 1978 and collected ten consecutive victories mostly by KO. Most agreed he was a national champion waiting to happen.

Barrett tested Bogovic all the way and though he lost the decision he fought the good fight. It was to be Barrett's final bout and Bogovic himself was absent from boxing for three years directly after.

Still the holder of the SA Middleweight Title Barrett never got to defend it. "There was no one left for me here to fight." The most deserving challenger Jim Bavin had retired during 1974 leaving Barrett pretty much the sole middleweight in the state.

During the early 1980's Phil still received fight offers some in far flung locations as Noumea and Johannesburg but he politely declined. He was content to have retired entirely on his own terms.

Post- boxing Barrett enjoyed regular games of eight-ball which had become a solid pastime for him. One night when he was at eight-ball at a local venue a Darts tournament was being played in another room. There had been a late withdrawal and Barrett was approached if he were interested in filling in.

The ever-obliging Barrett stepped up and it was the beginning of a beautiful love affair with the game of Darts. Having played it socially in sheds and garages Barrett was already a competent player but once he began to play it competitively he rose to another level.

Now aligned with Darts SA, Phil remains one of the state's top ranked players and his skill has taken him to tournaments across the country to locations such as Kangaroo Island, Broken Hill, Geelong and Darwin. Phil's partner Julie Thomas is South Australia's top female darts player and her ability has seen her compete in international tournaments in Britain and Japan. "She's one of the best!" adds Phil of his partner.

Of his time in boxing Phil can revisit it without any bitterness. Like many South Australian boxers of the era he often had to travel interstate to acquire bouts but he never uses it as an excuse. "Never bothered me at all." says Phil. "I quite enjoyed it really." As a boxer Phil was also a self-educator. Barrett agrees on the necessity of a training programme including weights and sparring, and acknowledges Wilf Withey's shrewd tuition, but he concludes his real ring smarts were acquired through his actual bouts. Each bout was an exercise of on-the-job training for him. This in effect assisted him in graduating from a hot-wired novice into a polished main event middleweight. He truly learned on the job.

It also provides a certain window into Barrett's boxing mindset. Rather than nominate a particular opponent as his toughest Barrett insists that each of his opponents provided him with a particular challenge and it was up to him to embrace that challenge accordingly. Had the gods been kinder to him Barrett could have gone much further -- but the realist in him knows history can't be re-written.

Phil Barrett boxed in a particularly fertile era of Australian boxing where at one stage there were over a thousand registered professional boxers ; only the cream rose to the top. Barrett deserves more than the Warholian fifteen minutes of fame and should be remembered as one of the more talented students of the craft.

'Don't worry about Phil' offers four time opponent Jim Bavin, "He'd always give you a great fight!"

Footnote. Thanks to Jim Bavin, Ian Wise, Geoff Goodfellow, Tracey Davids.

Boasts on Barry Hall

Barry Hall and Angelo Hyder

The Barry Hall hot air balloon is floating again. When AFL footballer Barry Hall says he'll retire from football at season's end, hot air rises about his super prospect in boxing.

Angelo Hyder bluffed: "He would be insane not to give it a go now. He would be a lot bigger than Anthony Mundine … and let's not forget he had a far more extensive junior boxing career."

Hall vs rugby/boxer Sonny Bill Williams "could be bigger than Danny Green [vs] Anthony Mundine… He could set his life up financially. If he does start to fight I would expect he will come to me.."

Hyder is the windbag who in 2007 prated that Barry Hall as a boxer could make "a conservative $10 million in Australia alone."

As for his "let's not forget the far more extensive junior boxing career," the Victorian ABA recorded that schoolboy Barry Hall had three bouts, one a novice title, nigh on 20 years ago.

Trainers Ben and Cos Brizzi reckon it would take the 34 year old ex footballer a year to get in fighting trim. Then he could manage a four or six rounder.

A real fighting Barry, Barry Michael, observed : "The boxing ring is a lot different than having a sneak go at footballers."

It's an insult to real heavyweights like Kali Meehan and Adam Forsyth to vault Barry Hall above them. They'd knock him out in a couple of rounds.

– Mike C Ryan.

Great fighter. Bit-part actor

Roland LaStarza

The name glimpsed as an actor in a movie on Foxtel. You wondered, Is that the Roland La Starza? Yes it was.

The superior white heavyweight who won 37 bouts before his first loss, to Rocky Marciano a disputed decision in an epic battle in 1950. Came 1953 La Starza fought the Rock again : 11 title rounds at the Garden in the fight of the year.

The young contender La Starza was a smooth moving fighter. He beat Rex Layne and Dan Bucceroni (decked five times). But after the second Marciano fight La Starza lost his next three, to Don Cockell in London, to Charlie Norkus and Julio Mederos. Roland took two years off.

From 1957 he was in decline down to his finale in May 1961, a week before his 34th birthday. He'd turned pro in the week of his 20th birthday.

Marciano and La Starza, probably the best white heavyweights these fifty years.

If you have Foxtel watch for the supporting actor in old movies.

Lionel and me series How Rose met Rudkin again

Top collector GARY LUSCOMBE tells how the Rose-Rudkin night at Kooyong led to a "return".

Lionel Rose defended his world title in the homeland only once. Empire champion Alan Rudkin's challenge at Kooyong tennis stadium in 1969 drew a record television audience. For eight rounds Lionel pounded the little Brit - but by the 15th round Rose was very close to collapsing.

Thirty-five years later, Rose and Rudkin were to meet again.

On one of my boxing memorabilia searches on the internet I came across an ad wanting Alan Rudkin material. I had a spare programme of the Rose v Rudkin fight so I got in contact.

Alan Rudkin Junior was searching for his dad's memorabilia. After several exchanges, a letter and signed items came to me from Alan Rudkin senior. After showing these items to other collectors, the idea came up to bring Alan Rudkin to Australia for a reunion with Lionel.

I mentioned this to Alan Rudkin Snr and he welcomed any offer to come.

After several broken promises and mess-arounds I decided to approach the ANBHOF. They invited me to put the idea to their Hall of Fame committee.

From this meeting it came about that Alan Rudkin, Lionel Rose, Johnny Famechon and Fighting Harada were guests at the 2004 Australian National Boxing Hall of Fame induction dinner.

Those four masters all fought in world title fights : Rose v Harada , Rose v Rudkin, Rudkin v Harada, Harada v Fammo twice.

Lionel and me series From first to last

MARIO MAGRIS is secretary of the Victorian Past and Present Boxers Association. He recaps half a century:

Hobart 1963, Australian Amateur Championships. Lionel Rose, 15, flyweight. Mario Magris, 19, bantamweight. The Drouin dazzler looks grown up.

Magris provides Rose's debut. Rose won their two pros and an amateur match.

I was a 14-year-old amateur prospect when I first met Lionel Rose, who was 10. Merv Williams of the Sporting Globe had taken me to Nino Borsari's gym in Carlton, to have my photo taken with the famous Italian fighter, Bruno Visintin.

An Aboriginal boy was running around getting everyone's attention. I told the boy to move away because he was a distraction.

Not long afterwards, when I was having my photo taken with the great George Bracken, the same thing happened. The same Aboriginal boy was again running around getting everyone's attention.

Our paths crossed again when I was an established amateur fighter. On a Sunday morning Merv Williams brought Frank Oakes and Lionel to the gym. I recognised Lionel straight away, as the kid who had stolen my limelight on two previous occasions.

I then sparred with Lionel and Merv Williams asked me about him. I said he had lots of talent but still needed to learn a lot.

Lionel and I became good friends. Eventually we fought three times, once as an amateur and twice as a professional. In fact I lost to Lionel as an amateur, by way of a split decision, losing my Victorian Amateur Bantamweight Title.

This encouraged me to move on to professional ranks whereas Lionel stayed amateur for several more fights.

I became Lionel's first professional opponent in an 8-round main event in Warragul, which Lionel won on points.

We fought a month later at the West Melbourne Stadium. Again it was a close decision to Lionel.

John Famechon's wedding : Lionel Rose guest. Ian Lyons (on left) was Fam's favourite ringside cameraman.

As Lionel's career progressed both Bobby Daldy and I were hired by Jack Rennie to be Lionel's main sparring partners when he prepared for the Alan Rudkin world bantamweight title fight at Kooyong Tennis Stadium.

Lionel went on to become the great fighter he was and we remained good friends.

I visited Lionel only six weeks before his passing.

We talked about the fun we had and reminisced about his great career.

Jenny Oakes (Rose) and Peter Oakes told me my visit gave Lionel a lift.

I will always remember Lionel as a good friend and great champion.

Together, forty years later. Rose grown old.

Lionel and me series I Remember Rose

Lionel Rose and Bryan Membrey, with poster of Rose that Bryan painted

BRYAN MEMBREY boxed amateur for Australia, and became a pro lightweight contender:

Lionel Rose early on was the best classic boxer in his time. In stance and easy glide he resembled the great Joe Louis, without the Brown Bomber's dynamite punch. Harry Hopman the tennis coach showed me this. Hopman was a great fight enthusiast; he took me to watch Joe Louis films in the McKinnon Hotel beer garden.

Lionel Rose was a natural. The little fellow took on the movement of Louis, when he was started by his dad Roy Rose, a tent fighter who admired Joe Louis. His balance and poise carried him to the Australian senior amateur flyweight title - at 15!

Lionel and me series Less that a minute

MICHAEL MACDONALD is a feature fight writer:

In the aftermath of Lionel Rose's passing, one of my vivid memories is the night Lionel had his warm-up bout prior to his world challenge in Japan against Ishimatsu "Guts" Numata. A Filippino, Tammy Cuaresma, was pulled from the bargain basement to face Lionel at the Channel 0 studios in Nunawading. How he came into the equation mystifies, as Box Rec reveals Cuaresma's record then was three or four bouts for one draw.

So what we had was Lionel Rose, only 18 months previously a world champion himself, and a month down the track due to fight a current world champion, in the ring with an unknown import yet to win a bout.

Inside a minute, Lionel dug a 'Blink And You'll Miss It" left hook into Cuaresma.

The Filippino went horizontal for 10.

Lionel would have worked a bigger sweat if he walked around the block.

One of the prelims had an equally short and sour result. "Tiger" Tommy Wells, also from Jack Rennie's stable, had built a following with Channel O fight crowd. A tall, tattooed, long -armed Tasmanian with a Rockabilly haircut, Wells looked a contender with a clutch of KOs. On the Rose-Cuaresma undercard. his opponent Steve Brown was a two - bout welterweight from the Sydney club circuit, a complete unknown to Melbourne fight followers.

The stocky Brown, conceding height to Wells, attacked from the bell. He pressed Wells into the corner and pounded away. Maybe caught by surprise, all Tiger Tommy could do was cross his long arms over his face as Brown assailed. Not long after he slumped to the canvas and the referee called it off. I was in high school at the time and watched the fight with a few classmates. As Wells dropped they jeered at the screen "Squib!" ''Fizzer!" "Weakie!" Not warranted, I thought.

A month earlier in FIGHTER magazine Bev Will had assembled a profile on Wells which revealed an already complex and troubled soul. There was enough between the lines to suggest Wells could develop an appetite for self-destruction. Although he continued boxing after the Brown defeat and picked up a few wins over journeymen George Fogas and Johnny Infante, it was all over by the end of 1972 when he was badly beaten by Sydney welters Tom Laming and Paul Moore.

Post-boxing it appeared Wells drifted in and out of petty crime and it ended for him one night in an outer Eastern suburbs police cell late 1983. He'd apparently hung himself with his belt or shoelaces. Makes Bev's piece on TigerTommy that more of a cautionary tale.

Lionel and me series Lionel, come on in!

Smokoh. Lionel on visit to Les

They dubbed LES McDONALD Lucky Les when he won the lottery. Investing it in fight promoting, Les named the business LER Promotions after his protege, Lionel Edward Rose. McDonald writes:

I was one of the first boxers Jack Rennie trained and I had a few bouts. They only paid a pound a round, so I decided to take another job.

The day I was leaving I told Rennie out of the blue, "Jack, you're gonna train a world champion." Spooky when you look back. A week later a kid I'd never heard of, Lionel Rose, joined the gym.

Some years later I won the lottery and put winnings into fight promoting and named my show LER Promotions after Lionel Edward Rose, by now near the end of his fighting career; I made him my partner. We promoted with hay bales for seats, outdoors, and at Griffith, NSW to a crowd of thousands. Jeff Malcolm the local boy won over 15 rounds from 'Baby Cassius' (Lachy Austin).

Les McDonald with court observer Dianne Bell at one of his twenty court bids.
Among aims, to recover the rights on his path-setting fight videos,
and to establish marijuana as an Aboriginal sacred custom.

Lionel was an easy going businessman. One show I put on at Melbourne Town Hall, he left the back door open and hundreds came in free.

An incident at Dubbo. The doorman let me in to the pokies (though I'm aboriginal). The doorman confronted Lionel, "What's your name?"

Rose retorted, "What's your name?" When this kept up the doorman (a bouncer type) wouldn't admit my mate.

I said, "Come on Lionel, let's go." Immediately the bloke was repentant. "Oh, you're Lionel Rose! Come on in!"

Lionel and me series LES McDONALD(Part 2)

Talking about LER promotions, in 1978 Mario Guerra rang from Griffith to say he was thinking of promoting a return fight of Jeff Malcolm and Baby Cassius Austin for the Commonwealth title. Would LER be interested in backing the fight in partnership with him? I agreed, and as he had not promoted before I put him contact with Jack Rennie to ensure things were carried out in the proper manner.

I would pay to sent up a crew to video the fight -- hiring video cassettes was only just about to take off in Australia. All Ringside Video and Video Beam were under the LER banner.

Early December, Mario again rang, he explained he had plenty of bouts on the card and had sold enough seats to cover the event -- it was Malcolm's hometown -- and he no longer needed the backing. Guerra also pointed out, that Lionel and I had done little if anything to promote the fight (which was true). So Mario withdrew the partnership. My only role was to video the contest.

Subsequently my complete video was knocked off; well that's another story.

The fight was set for 15 December 1978. Lionel had arranged to drive up with a few friends, (it appears they stopped at every pub between Melbourne and Griffith). I drove up by myself early on the day. I was greeted by Mario, and was assured that the video crew had set up ready for the big night, To cut short a long story, hometowner Malcolm defeated Lachy Austin. Mario, a gentlemen, gave me a pass to an after-fight function.

The next morning, Lionel knocked on the door, insisting that I come with him to see Rocky Gattellari, It appears that Lionel was upset about something in the past, some comments made by Gattellari.

When we got to where Rocky was staying, Lionel informed me that Lucky was mine (at least I had the weight advantage) but that Rocky was his.

Rocky appeared followed by Lucky. Rocky seemed to be in shock when Lionel let go with verbal abuse that continued for some time. Rocky with moving caution tried to answer him. Things began to look out of control, I called out to Lionel to pull up, as now the two were only meters apart. Lucky also pleaded with them to settle down.

Lionel stopped yelling and after a short discussion both fighters shook hands. The old issue was done with ... whatever it may have been.

After dropping Lionel off at his motel, I picked up Jack Rennie. When we reached the Victorian border, a Fruit Fly inspector asked if I had any fruit or vegetables in the car.

'No,' I said, 'We are coming back from the big fight at Griffith and only have fifty pounds of grass in the boot.'

Well, the inspecting officer became very excited, jumping back and nearly swallowing the two-way radio calling for assistance. 'Turn off the engine!' he yelled.

I looked at Jack, I will never forget the look of terror on his face. The inspector was running around the car, relaying our rego number and car details.

As nearly a minute had passed I got out of the car, ignoring the inspector's call to stay put, I had to own up to the true facts.

I opened the boot, which revealed to the inspector that the boot was empty.

Nor will I ever forget the pay-out Jack gave me as we continued to Melbourne.

Yes, it was a bit rude. Anyway that's the Fight Game.

Lionel and me series The kid's first international

PAT CONNELLY was a journalist on the national daily, The Australian

ON my way from a newspaper job in a WA wheatbelt town to a new one in Sydney, fate cast me up in Melbourne in the winter of 1965.

It was a Friday, and fight night at Festival Hall beckoned. I had never been there -- Sydney Stadium was my pugilistic alma mater-and an excellent main event was in prospect: Australian ex-flyweight champ Jackie Bruce versus the Thai champion.

I rolled up to learn that Bruce had pulled out with an injury . But they had cobbled together a bout over 12 two-minute rounds, between the Thai titleholder's sparring partner, Singtong Por Tor, and a teenage Aborigine bumped up from prelims.

Por Tor was older, looked by far the heavier and was broad-shouldered and muscular. He appeared to be carved from the teak of his native land so it seemed appropriate that his movements were wooden and that when he went forward during hostilities he lumbered.

But he was strong and a threat to a kid (Lionel Rose was only 17 or so) who, however, moved with an assurance that belied his years

I recall few details of the bout, only that Lionel moved elegantly, struck the Thai almost at will and won the 12 x 2 by the llength of Dudley Street.

He made a deep impression, and back in the Harbour City I told boxing fans about the brilliant young Aborigine who moved as smoothly as poured cream. I don't recall predicting a world title for him but when it came his way so soon, it seemed nature was merely paying its due.

Lionel and me series Seeing him fresh but ripe

MIKE RYAN missed the early Rose years working in England. Here's what he saw on return:

I was back at The Age and went to cover the boxing. Melbourne Festival Hall this night in July 1967 was packed with seven thousand spectators and they seemed to be all on their feet roaring for the fighter who jogged up the aisle. Lionel Rose wore white silk trunks with a green stripe. He climbed in the ring and sat cool as a breeze awaiting Tiny Palacio.

Only three months before, Palacio had taken world champion Fighting Harada the full distance of 12 rounds non-title. A tiptop test for the home boy.

But Tiny is five inches shorter.

The bell. Palacio charges across the ring. Rose stands. Side-steps. Tiny plunges head-first through the ropes onto the apron! What a start, and the excitement stayed high for all 10 rounds with Rose always the master

Next opponent was Ronnie Jones, another world title fighter,. A very tall, black American fighter. A much harder foe. Rose took the points and left Jones with scratched eyeballs.

In Sydney in December 1967, Lionel knocked out Rocky Gattellari in 13 rounds and off to hospital.

Next start was Fighting Harada for the world bantamweight crown and enduring glory, that led, these 45 years later, to a State funeral for L E Rose.

Lionel and me series First night fan

By ROBERT DRANE. A chapter from his book , Fighters by Trade

As a small boy I didn't watch much television. That evening of December 11, 1967

I somehow delayed my passage through the room. On the small screen two fighters entered the ring but I was paying them no heed. My dim-dims were good.

The bell drew my attention. One of the boxers was the bigger of the two. His upper body was enormously muscled, his bunched biceps perfectly rounded. He moved forward, jogging his head and shoulders, feinting in a way that was aggressive and confident. Then he fired off three rapid left jabs.

I was struck by this vision of what a boxer could be, without even knowing what a boxer was. By contrast the thinner man seemed, to my eye, everything I thought any normal man would be in a fight: edgy, a little intimidated, loose and scrappy.

I recall to this day that two lightning left hooks - POWPOW! - instantly reduced the smaller man to a vulnerable presence – a flimsy object. I was impressed by the contained volatility of the muscular bloke. He looked as though he could do anything. His stance was balanced and side-on, the right hand up to the jaw, the left a little lower but always probing, then shooting out across space before the other man had time to move his heavily-whiskered, handsome Latin face out of the way. The fight was two minutes old, and so was my love of this spectacle.

"Is this wrestling or boxing, Pop?" I asked my grandfather, who was himself a good boxer in his younger days.

"Boxing. See the gloves? Wrestlers don't wear those. These blokes have skill, and they really hit each other. Not like the old grunt 'n' groaners."

"What are their names?"

"That's Lionel Rose there, and the one on the left now, that's Rocky Gattellari."

Lionel Rose. Lionel. Rose. I rolled the words around like sherbet lollies. He'd shake those black gloves out in front of his face like shiny maracas, slipping and weaving. Evading Gattellari's forward rushes, Lionel Rose even disappeared explosively, leaving the pallid Italian man hitting at nothing. I never had the faintest idea that a man could stay so cool in front of someone so intent on flattening him.

Lionel Rose would bring Gattellari's right arm down with a booming left to his rib cage, then hit him instantaneously with the same hand - the same hand! Within the same second!- to the head. Drum rolls of punches, a punch over a punch, under a defensive elbow. I could see he didn't want to knock Gattellari out just yet, just make holes in him, one hole at a time.

He was an instinctive artist. His punches were telling, he landed them when he wanted, which wasn't all the time.

I never really noticed the blood trickle down Gattellari's right cheek; never felt his pain as he lay face down, unconscious after being hit with a right so fast I still cannot see it in the replay today unless I watch it frame-by-frame.

*****

In 1968, at Doveton baths, a thick-set redhead beheld my skinny form and decided he wanted to fight me.

I had time to tell one of his reconnoitring band I was related to Lionel Rose, my cousin. He looked me up and down for some evidence of a pugilistic predisposition, or Aboriginality. He wasn't sure.

"Yeah? Well, I know Rose's cousin. He trains at he same gym as my brother."

Emboldened by my own fiction, I called the bluff. "Which cousin?" Doubt crossed his face. Maybe his brother was making it up.

"There's plenty of us," I told him. "I'll bring 'em all down here and you can point him out."

Word spread, and the challenges ceased. It was my first lesson in the power of bluff.

*****

I had a magazine on a shelf in my bedroom. The very first FIGHTER. Lionel's smiling face, and the cover line 'Rose takes on the world'. October issue, 1967. Next to it was the November issue. Johnny Famechon. Together, they were my first sporting idols.

In January, 1968, FIGHTER's cover declaration of a few months earlier became an unexpected reality. Masahiko 'Fighting' Harada's scheduled defence against Jesus 'Little Poison' Pimentel had fallen through. The phone call came to Jack Rennie's house-cum-gym in Marco Polo St, Essendon.

Lionel was sitting on the sofa watching television with Jack Rennie and his wife, Shirley, and thought Jack, his trainer and surrogate father, was having him on.

They eagerly agreed to every term, to the surprise of the Japanese caller from Fuji TV, no matter how paltry and unfavourable.

In a matter of months I'd devoured back-issues of every boxing magazine I could get my hands on, and discovered a whole new world populated with celestial warriors. Floyd Patterson, Joe Frazier, Muhammad Ali, Oscar Bonavena, Jerry Quarry, Bob Foster, Emile Griffith, Mando Ramos, Jose Napoles, Vicente Saldivar.

Everything 'boxing' was so significant to me that I'd come to school expecting others to share my excitement over some distant, titanic clash I'd been anticipating for weeks.

I knew all about Pimentel, the dangerous Mexican. The Mexicans – I knew them all, and stories of their punching power had me bewitched. Apart from Pimentel, there was Jose Medel, Chucho Castillo, and the knockout king, 'Rockabye' Ruben Olivares. The shining path to the bantamweight title was guarded by these bellipotent Aztec supermen – yet Lionel had bypassed them all because the Pimentel camp had been greedy. I knew Lionel would one day have to face them, one by one.

I knew about Harada, too. He'd beaten legends to win two world titles already: Pone Kingpetch for the flyweight title and the immortal Brazilian, Eder Jofre, for the bantamweight. But it was known that the great tamashi no katamari (lump of fight) became a lump of lard between fights, and would not stay at bantamweight much longer. Weight loss was weakening him, and the consensus was that, at only 24, his best years, if not behind him, were ahead as a full-powered featherweight. He wanted an easy payday to go out on.

Rose was going to be nipped in the bud by the champion, who knew nothing of him except that he might one day be a good fighter.

Lionel, at only 19, didn't look long for the bantams himself; but despite the temptations of food and the pipe he sucked on constantly as a substitute for the cigarettes he'd been smoking since he was ten, he'd lived an austere existence. Now, self-denial was going to pay off.

Harada was a charger with some speed in his hands, but his large head was a perfect target for those jabs, and a gleeful Lionel took every opportunity, harassing the great Japanese with fast, multiple lefts, quick and accurate, like a cat raking a beetle.

At only 19 years of age, he handled a dual world champion like a veteran.

When Lionel danced, Harada could neither catch him nor fend off his swarming blows. When he stood and fought, and gave Harada what he wished for, the Australian teenager came off the better.

Halfway through the fight, Jack Rennie pointed out that the weight-weakened champion was slowing down. In the ninth, Lionel skittled the enraged Japanese with an overhand right. Harada bounced up and pushed him over.

A tiny but fanatical Australian contingent in the crowd sang 'Waltzing Matilda', their voices heard over the loud Japanese murmur. In the last round, as they went toe-to-toe, each exchange was punctuated with "Go Lionel, go! Go Lionel, go! Go Lionel, go! go! Go!"

The decision was not in doubt, even though Lionel had points deducted for his 'slapping.'

Lionel returned to a mind-boggling reception in Melbourne. No fighter, ever, had received such public adulation upon returning home. A quarter of a million people turned out on Melbourne's streets. Australia bestowed laurels and accolades. He was awarded an MBE, Australian of the Year, Sportsman of the Year. A song, 'The Ballad of Lionel Rose', entered the top ten. Parks, school rooms, welfare centres were named after him.

*****

For the rest of his career, Lionel treated his fans to a roller coaster ride. First defence, in Tokyo against Takao Sakurai, was a tense affair. Lionel was floored in the second, and was run close by the skilful Japanese southpaw, but earned the decision.

The second, against the redoubtable Chucho Castillo at Los Angeles Forum, was equally thrilling. Castillo was a stablemate of Ruben Olivares, and like 'Rockabye', he could put a man to sleep with either hand. He decked Lionel in the 10th, but Lionel got up and repelled Castillo's charges with his fantastic jab, building up a points lead. He won more easily than the largely Mexican crowd reckoned. They threw bottles and bags of urine, slashed the seats and set fire to the stuffing.

The homeland defence against Alan Rudkin at Kooyong was the biggest TV event ever in Australia. Lionel blitzed the small Pom in the first half of the fight, as expected. Then he ran out of puff, until finally Rudkin caught him on the ropes for a tense minute or so in the last round. Lionel won a close decision but fans were perplexed at his sudden collapse.

Between title fights, Lionel took dangerous ten-rounders against Jose Medel and Ernie de la Cruz. Both showed him the canvas, and each time he arose to win handily.

His magical, thrilling 18 months at the top was ended by the great Olivares, in Los Angeles. Events on August 22nd 1969, left an indelible stamp on my young sensibilities. Ruben Olivares had an incredible 50 knockout wins in 52 fights, without defeat. He was slightly ahead until the fifth when he caught up with Lionel, who wilted alarmingly.

The rest stays with me as a tableaux. Lionel prone on the canvas, pushing himself up, looking up at Jack Rennie, with the menacing Mexican standing over him. Getting to his feet. Going down under that immense left hook. The towel sailing into the ring, the troubled Jack not far behind. Jack cradling Lionel's head like a paramedic at a road accident.

We consoled ourselves with the belief that the loss to Olivares was due to weakened condition from constant weight loss.

Now, having moved up to featherweight, Lionel was going to be unstoppable! He looked sensational knocking out Vicente Garcia, savaging the slow-moving Mex with rapid-fire hooks, hooks off jabs and crisp rights. When Garcia finally got inside, he was doubled over with body blows.

Lionel had every punch in the book when he was on song. He could make anyone look second-rate. The overhand right that finally finished Garcia was so destructive, the Mexican broke his ankle keeling over, and lay clutching his head as though expecting Rose to lay into him with his boots.

But then Lionel was kayoed by Fernando Sotelo, and stayed down a worryingly long time. We discovered he had a stomach problem. A blood clot, his doctor was calling it. He addressed it by taking 'enzyme tablets.'

After easily defeating Don Johnson, Lionel boxed the ears off Raul Cruz -- before inexplicably dropping his hands and getting himself TKO'd. The stomach problem had returned. These were not excuses. Lionel didn't make excuses. But the whispers got a little louder: he was enjoying life too much when Jack wasn't around.

*****

Lionel's life as one of nine kids at Jackson's Track, near Drouin, Victoria, is well-documented: dust, dirt, dogs, corrugated iron, hessian bags for windows. A campfire for a stove. Perpetual smells of burning gum leaves and ash. Four trees as corner posts and wire ropes. Damper was the staple of the Rose diet, and once Lionel was so hungry, he ate a rabbit raw.

We all laughed on hearing that the newly-moneyed young champ had bought and was running his own sandwich shop, on the investment advice of his lawyer: "He'd eat the profits." He'd certainly expressed several times his desire to escape the Spartan demands of his trade.

He continued to give us hope after that loss to Cruz with a brisk, easy points win over the world-ranked lightweight Ishimatsu Suzuki.

Suzuki later became world champion. World glory was again within Lionel's reach. A third division, lightweight.

Yet he began 1971 badly out of condition. He'd been married, and spent a prolonged festive season celebrating, a man about town, believing the world appreciated him as much for his reasonable musical talents as his outstanding fighting abilities. He was, after all, lovable Lionel. He was ignoring core business and falling, as many people from many walks of life had before him, for the siren song of the spin-off.

Tentatively booked to fight WBA world junior-lightweight champion, Yoshiaki Numata, Lionel took a 'warm up' against Australian lightweight champion Jeff White, a light-hitting but strong and relentless body puncher. The fight was an ordeal. Rose was pushed from corner to corner, and finished the fifteen rounds, in his own words, "buggered." It seemed he had nothing left.

The worst kept secret in Australia was officially out: away from Jack Rennie, boxing was the least of Lionel's concerns. He avoided roadwork, and ate and drank as he pleased. Many fans angrily abandoned him.

The press were noting 'patterns' in his behaviour suggesting he'd become unreliable and lazy.

Jack, who had facilitated Lionel's entry into 'white' society, admitted at the time that he was too much of a father to Lionel. Jack taught him to box, while Shirley schooled him in speech and social manners. Now Lionel, having moved into his own flat, longed to shake off his past as a fringe dweller.

He didn't want to believe his only hope was his boxing talent – even though it had been inevitable from the moment he was brought to Melbourne by the Save the Children Fund at the age of 10.

That night, introducing Lionel from the ring at West Melbourne Stadium, the announcer told the crowd, "Lionel wants to be a fighter like his hero, Dave Sands". The ring was showered with more money than Lionel had ever seen. It was the symbolic approval he needed in his life.

Lionel was well-and-truly back on the smokes again, and spent the first half of a close fight against Numata in May 1971 saving his wind for a strong finish. He did finish well, but it was too late to convince the judges. Lionel had been given what many ex-champions only dream of – a second chance at a world title, and it slipped from his grasp. He learned conclusively that The Good Life is not a fighter's life. Once he'd tasted it, there was no returning to boxing's meagre menu.

When he finally retired in 1971, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. When he came back four years later, he didn't have to announce that the reason was money.

He declared: "I'm a fighter. I still am. I'm going to prove it."

In 1975 Rose met with mixed success, but was not unimpressive. His punches had plenty of snap against African import Blakeney Matthews, though he was shaded on the scorecards. Yet the 'if's' about Lionel were no longer unsayables. 'If' he keeps training. 'If' he gives up the fags. 'If' he can shed his compulsiveness.

His career finally ended when he was KO'd in 1976 by one Maurice Apeang in Noumea – a man with three professional fights, for two losses. It led to more pub conjecture: how could he be levelled by such a no-name unless he was utterly damaged? How much was he paid to throw the fight? He was practically ignored now by the media.

*****

For the last 30 years, Lionel has often featured in Melbourne's informal 'news' network. Unsavoury stories abounded. I never felt any need to verify these stories. I'd heard them over the years without really wanting or needing to hear them.

White society seemed to give up on Lionel, apart from the faithful Jack and Lionel's ex-wife, Jenny Oakes. Many had only fond memories of the young fighter, and preferred to preserve them. Occasionally, he'd make the real news. Lionel had made some mistakes along the way, and the mistakes compounded.

For the last decade we've heard a lot less from him. Occasionally a newspaper picture would bob up with Lionel looking greyer, heavier and seemingly content with life out of the limelight.

The day I began this chapter, in October, 2004, was the beginning of the worst fortnight of Lionel's life. That day, he was injured in a car accident driving out of a pub. He had no license.

A week later he was in the headlines again for refusing to attend the Australian Boxing Hall of Fame dinner, unless a thousand dollars of free tickets for his friends and family were handed out. Fighting Harada was the special guest. Lionel did not attend. A meeting was arranged by the media before the event. Lionel's eye was swollen and black from the car accident.

There were other scandals around accusations that I didn't believe. A bewildered and sad Jack Rennie appeared on the news: "Lionel lived with us for years. That's not like him."

The flickering taper of Lionel's reputation was, I feared, spent.

Lionel Rose was never anything but a thoroughly decent human being. I'm not given to quoting rock lyrics, but Australian Crawl's 'Errol' comes to mind, written when the reputation of Errol Flynn the film star was under threat. The words sum up the feelings of a nine year-old kid from Doveton who still loves Lionel Rose:

Don't tell me it's true, I don't want to hear about it.

A Chapter from Robert Drane's book, Fighters by Trade.
Portraits of many champions. Published by ABC Books. Your local bookstore will get it for you.

Boxing Bookcase 2 The Real Deal in writing

In Copenhagen on May 7, Evander Holyfield met Brian Nielsen for the WBF heavyweight title. A remarkable pairing. Nielsen had a 64-2 record, but last fought nine years ago. He's 46 years old. Holyfield has been four times heavyweight champion. He's 48 years old.

His autobiography has turned up in Australian bookshops, Becoming Holyfield. A fighter's journey' by Evander Holyfield with Lee Gruenfeld. Better written than most boxing books, and a giveaway price of five dollars for 270 pages and lots of colour photos. The best of bargains at Dymocks Bookshops.

Six years ago (2004) in a back room of Madison Square Garden, Holyfield (Holy not Holly) sat at a round table with half a dozen pressmen answering our questions.

Evander was memorably articulate. His smooth flow took me by surprise because "the Real Deal" had been fighting the best professionals for twenty years since his 1984 Olympic Games bronze. It was seven years since Mike Tyson spat out a piece his ear.

Way back in 1988 Holyfield was undisputed cruiserweight champion.

Going up to heavyweight, he kayoed three sometime world champions (Quick Tillis, Pinklon Thomas, Michael Dokes). Inside two years he was undisputed world heavyweight champion by KO 3 of Buster Douglas.

Evander made successful defences over 12 rounds against the greats George Foreman and Larry Holmes, and stopped Bert Cooper in 7. He lost the tripartite crown to Riddick Bowe, in a return won back the WBA and IBF portions.

With damaged shoulders Hoyfield lost the two titles to Michael Moorer.Three years later he knocked out Moorer in eight for the IBF belt.

The two Tyson fights were an 11th round stoppage of the ex-jailbird and a round 3 disqualification of the ear biter.

That was 1997 when he won back the IBF from Moorer by KO 8.

There were 12 round draws with Lennox Lewis and John Ruiz then he was into a new century.

"I made more money in the ring than any other fighter ever"

Every year or two Holyfield was drawn back in the ring by title shots. He went against John Ruiz in Las Vegas (WBA, win, loss, draw), against Sultan Ibragimov in Moscow 2007 (WBO, L 12), against Nikolai Valuev in Zurich 2008 (WBA, L 12).

In 2010, Las Vegas brought in the ageless Real Deal for the WBF's vacant heavyweight belt, where he stopped Francois Botha of South Africa in the 8th.

Even if the WBF is one of the least of the title clans, this was his fifth world heavyweight title.

Just last month, January 22, Evander Holyfield retained the WBF against Sherman Williams : an accidental cut made it a no contest in round 3.

Now comes the Brian Nielsen defence in Denmark. Holyfield stopped Nielsen in the 10th round of their 12-rounder. He continued to prove himself a real deal.

For complete list of items contact garyluscombe@hotmail.com or 03 59688370

JOHN PLANT A Saintly Odyssey

By Michael Macdonald

"Maestro, I don't do - I am!" - P.J. Proby.

John Plant (aka The Saint) drills Roy Thurgar

As a teenager growing up in Townsville, John Bruce Plant was captured by Leslie Charteris' series of "The Saint" novels. Charteris' character Simon Templar (aka "The Saint") was equal parts debonair gent of mystery, ladies man, crime fighter plus sometimes poet and songwriter.

When The Saint was turned into a TV series and portrayed by the suave British actor Roger Moore, this further impressed Plant .He adopted the name Simon Templar as his ring moniker when he boxed professionally from the late 60's into the 70's.

He took Templar's calling card, the stick figure with halo, as a trademark, stitched on the back of his boxing gown, and like Templar he was something of a poet and musician himself.

In essence John Plant brought a sense of theatre and humour to the exacting sport that is boxing. A character and a maverick, in his lifetime he has indulged in jackarooing, boxing, acting, male modelling, chess tournaments and stunt work.

To dismiss Plant as a novelty act would miss the point. At his best Plant was a poised light-heavyweight who carried a big punch and a big heart. Had the moon and stars aligned themselves properly for him Plant/Templar would have won a national title. Renowned Brisbane trainer Reg Layton suggested that on his night Plant could have beaten anyone. Such is the luck of the draw.

Born in Ingham, Queensland and raised in Townsville, Plant describes his formative years as a "skinny stammering weakling" who often feared his taciturn tough father. "He was a real bushie." says Plant. Often the target of bullies John sought solace in Charteris' novels while harbouring a desire to pursue the craft of acting.

When attending agricultural college in Gatton and jackarooing on cattle stations John was introduced to boxing. In the makeshift rings of the northern Queensland horse yards the young Plant's analytical mind began to comprehend there was more to boxing than attempting to knock an opponent's block off. Plant took this mindset into amateur boxing where he enjoyed a short but respectable career.

Deciding he was ready to turn professional, Plant took the unusual option of writing directly to Jack Rennie in Melbourne, who was training future world champion Lionel Rose. Inspired by Rennie's methodology and character, Plant saw him as the right man to be in his corner.

Impressed and flattered by John's letter Rennie invited John to train with his stable and added the promise of assistance in locating work and lodgings.

Driving from Townsville to Melbourne in two days Plant arrived at the Essendon gym excited about his future under Rennie's tutelage.

For his professional debut in 1967 Rennie placed Plant in a four-round prelim at Springvale Town Hall against square-jawed Irish expat, Mick Byrne. Showing genuine promise Plant took a clear decision over the hardy Byrne.

Next up was a six rounder at Springvale against Adelaide heavyweight Jim Hastings who later fought national heavyweight champions Fred Casey and Foster Bibron.

Against the heavier and slower Hastings the Queenslander was able to score points while moving out of range from Hastings' big punches. Although Hastings was awarded the decision the consolation to John was being informed by Rennie and other ring insiders that the decision should have been his.

Quickly elevated to his first ten-rounder John travelled to Sydney for a dangerous mission at South Sydney Leagues Club against feared standover man and street fighter, Roy Thurgar. On the circuit since the early 60's Thurgar had collected wins over Barry Butler, Peter Leaney, Foster Bibron, Dick Blair and Reg Hayes -- serious credentials. Also Thurgar had taken Bobby Dunlop the full distance whilst giving Dunlop some anxious moments.

Not letting himself become over-awed Plant stunned the Sydney crowd by decking Thurgar twice, which no other fighter had done, and seemed en route to a demonstrative victory.

But a head clash opened an ugly cut on Plant and though he was clearly ahead on points the bout was halted in Thurgar's favour during round nine. Regardless of the result the night showed John as a definite contender.

Returning to Springvale John accepted a tough assignment in Geelong's Bob Murdoch, an old school scrapper who been around for a decade mixing it with the best. Durable and ring wise Murdoch was never anyone's idea of a walk in the park and Plant nearly pulled off a shock stoppage over the Geelong warrior.

Years later Murdoch confessed to a Melbourne writer that during his bout with Plant he felt so spent he was prepared to retire in his corner between rounds. Urged on by his cornermen Murdoch used all his guile and experience to continue the bout to just last the full six rounds. The decision was given to Murdoch which Plant felt was somewhat generous.

In seeking a rematch with Murdoch the Simon Templar persona began to emerge in Plant. Composing a letter to Murdoch Plant filled it with hilarious boasting which suggested Plant could have enjoyed a secondary career as a stand-up comedian. When he ignored Plant's instructions Murdoch was confronted with a Plant telegram: "You haven't answered my letter- are you afraid?"

A genuine knockabout with a good heart Murdoch realised an element of fun evolving and returned a witty response which ignited a sequence of literary jousts. Murdoch commissioned his brother-in-law to draft a poem poking fun at the Townsville man of letters. Upon receiving this verse Plant sent a return telegram: "Your poetry is uncouth and you couldn't beat time!" A Plant- Murdoch rematch never eventuated but John continues to hold a fond regard for Bob.

In the interim Plant who had now officially taken "Simon Templar" as his ring name succumbed to homesickness in Melbourne. Being alone in a boarding house the night of his 21st birthday prompted Plant to return to Townsville, although he regretted leaving Jack Rennie's mentoring.

Resettling in Townsville John worked out of the garage gym of trainer Reg Kirkham. To this day he regards Reg and his wife Eunice as de facto parents, the respect being mutual.

A Queensland resident John was able to acquire bouts on Reg Layton's Brisbane cards as well as utilising Layton as a cornerman cum trainer. John credits Layton's attention to detail regarding fitness, but adds that Reg probably lacked the compassion that was Jack Rennie. Now accepted as Simon Templar in boxing circles, Plant engaged in a trilogy of bouts with Sydney warhorse Laurie Duke and mastered Duke in all three. Two stoppage victories and a points decision over four had Templar established as a Brisbane drawcard.

The wins over Duke were ample momentum to snare a Sydney rematch with Roy Thurgar in June 1968. With Reg Layton offering advice in his corner and a proper focus Templar took immediate control but he and Thurgar both had their eyes cut early on. With the pair immediately aiming for each other's wounds the bout was not a purist's picnic and it was eventually halted in The Saint's favour during round four. The bout also produced an evocative ringside photograph of Templar cracking a clean punch on Thurgar's jaw distorting Thurgar's features in the process. The Saint had truly arrived.

Now emerging as one of the best Australian light-heavyweights this side of Bob Dunlop Templar returned to Brisbane squaring off against Les Sands, a toughie who'd been active since the mid 50's and was returning to the ring after serving a prison sentence. In a rough uncompromising bout Templar took the decision with a rematch on offer.

A fortnight later The Saint was taking on fellow Banana Bender George Sutton over ten at Brisbane. Really a blown-up middleweight the stocky Sutton could be a handful with his awkward frustrating style and had prior taken big hitting Kahu Mahanga the distance in Melbourne.

Bothered early by Sutton's method of rushing and spoiling Templar took several rounds to handle Sutton but landing shorter punches on Sutton's chin The Saint took the points through the latter rounds. The bout was a draw as well as marking the emergence of Templar the ring poet: 'With one long right flush on the button/ I will lay George Sutton/ colder than mutton!"

Accepting a 10-round main at Melbourne Festival Hall against the rising Trevor "Stretch " Anderson The Saint arrived in Melbourne solo, having also taken some half-baked advice about not eating at all during the day. Supposedly the fasting would sharpen both mind and body. With a corps of Melbourne trainers in his corner Templar coped with Anderson early on but an empty stomach and lack of proper preparation saw him exhausted mid bout and it was halted in Anderson's favour during round six. It would be the first and last time The Saint would accept such unfounded advice.

Within a week The Saint was back at Brisbane rematched with Les Sands over eight rounds. "It will be the end of Sands when The Saint's punch lands!" quoth Templar before he wore down Sands to win via a sixth round stoppage. Sands never boxed again.

In his first bout of 1969 The Saint was afforded a particular luxury when he was granted a hometown main event at Townsville against veteran Joe Attard. On the circuit since the early 50's Attard was ring hardened and no pushover.

For his first Townsville engagement Templar arrived decked in gold chains. "I looked like a white Mr T!" recounts Templar with a mix of amusement and embarrassment: it was the latent actor in him manifesting.

Often beating his older opponent to the punch Templar built up a points lead when a clash of heads opened a cut over The Saint's eye, prompting the referee to halt the bout in Attard's favour during the seventh round.

Jagged cut over eye when he was beating Thurgar

Templar accepted the decision with a certain resignation. However The Saint's father, with whom he had shared a thorny relationship, vehemently protested. Plant Senr, who held some influence in Townsville, threatened to take the promoters to court if the decision wasn't overturned. A quick re-think amended the decision to a technical draw before all went their separate ways.

Returning to Brisbane Templar was matched with Aboriginal scrapper Buster Weir over eight. Active on the tent circuit and stadiums since the mid 50's Weir was at best a journeyman but one who always provided solid opposition … which Templar acknowledged when a swinging punch from Weir split his lip in the early rounds. However the sharper punching Saint was able to take control and grind out a sixth round stoppage over Weir.

The Weir victory set up a Brisbane main event a fortnight later against the unbeaten Joe Shields. A respected Queensland amateur Shields had turned pro early 1969 and racked up some quick victories including one over the well regarded Bevan Bleakley. An aggressive fighter with an explosive punch Shields actually went into the bout a slight favourite.

"A few right rips to the body of Shields and he'll be covered in big red weals!" proclaimed The Saint in his now ritual pre-bout poetics.

Heeding Reg Layton's instructions of how to counter Shields' aggression Templar used his educated right hand to floor Shields twice in round four, once in round six and again in round eight to claim a clear cut points decision. With only Shields' raw courage keeping him in the bout for the full ten Templar rates this victory as perhaps his most complete performance.

Unusually inactive for over three months following the Shields bout The Saint needed a gallop. Accepting a ten rounder against rugby player Billy Bowden found Templar flying out to Mt Isa. The Saint vividly recalls departing Brisbane under warm to hot conditions and later being confronted with the dry furnace heat of Mt Isa upon arrival. Meeting the ex- amateur Bowden at an open-air arena the bout eventually descended into an exercise of self-preservation for Templar. "It was bloody hot!" recalls The Saint. By the bout's end both Templar and Bowden were drained by the severe heat but it was Bowden who took the close decision. Could have gone either way.

A serious attempt by Templar to secure a rematch with Bowden in Brisbane eventually lapsed when Bowden abandoned boxing for good. Subsequently back in Brisbane Templar was matched with the unbeaten Trevor Thornberry over ten. A raw-boned slugger from Gatton's potato fields Thornberry had made a dent in the Brisbane undercards, but was still something of a work in progress. Against Templar he would be revealed as either champ or chump.

"Don't knock him out too early, Simon! Give the crowd their money's worth!" was Reg Layton's pre-fight instruction to The Saint. Often haunted by Layton's flippant remark Templar believes it leaked into his subconscious placing him in a blasé mind frame. Templar's memory of the bout is fragmented: he recalls bouncing a punch off Thormberry's chest and then darkness.

'My brain was knocked out even though my body wasn't," explains Templar. Within the opening minute and a half The Saint had been felled three times by Thornberry's murderous punches.

Knocked through the ropes twice, he crawled back in twice.

After the third knockdown Layton threw in the towel seeing Templar was in genuine distress.

Some considerable time after the stoppage Templar was still suffering the aftershocks from Thornberry's blows. So much he had to rely on his best friend Jim Davidson to drive him back to the boarding house where he lodged when boxing on Brisbane cards. Well into the following morning Templar still felt decidedly nauseous. On the other side of town Thornberry was now declared the genuine article.

"What a puncher!" offers The Saint on the man later dubbed "The Iceman".

Attempting to repair some collateral damage Templar tried to engage Reg Layton in a possible rematch with Thornberry. Believing that a less cavalier attitude while exposing Thornberry's still developing boxing skills could provide a different result. Layton ignored the Saint's request while channelling all his energies into steering Thornberry toward national and Commonwealth titles. Sensing that Layton had now lost some interest in promoting him Templar amicably removed himself from Layton's orbit. The Thornberry bout would be the last time The Saint boxed in Brisbane.

Returning to Townsville Templar weighed up options and for the remainder of his career became a free agent. He would readily accept bouts regardless of location or opponent. Have gloves will travel.

Entering 1970 Templar took his first bout for the year in Mackay against Peter Lovi. A genuine heavyweight Lovi had recently turned professional with a solid future predicted. Against the much heavier Lovi Templar produced the same good form he displayed against Joe Shields outclassing and outboxing the big man from Mackay. By round five Lovi was unable to continue and the fight halted in The Saint's favour.

Making the victory even more resonant for Templar was the attendance of one John Smith who approached The Saint post-bout to congratulate. A figure from Templar's cattle station days Smith was a sturdy R.M.Williams type much idolised by the teenage Templar. Smith's presence made the victory sweeter.

With the Mackay win placing Templar back into contention The Saint then found an unusual ally in Sydney's main man of boxing Ern McQuillan. As the dominant force in Sydney boxing for decades McQuillan polarised : detractors hinted Ern controlled boxing as an oligarchy. Templar himself had no problem with McQuillan. "I found him an okay bloke," says The Saint of the sometimes gruff McQuillan. It was a matter of how you approached him.

McQuillan had been impressed by the way Templar handled Roy Thurgar and realised that The Saint's quirky persona could also attract an immediate cult following. Offering bouts on his Sydney promotions Templar readily accepted McQuillan's invite even if it meant often flying out of Townsville at short notice.

For his first McQuillan assignment The Saint was matched with the unbeaten Steve Cansdell, a serious prospect from the McQuillan stable. A fierce but even bout with both Templar and Cansdell landing knockdowns, it was Cansdell who took the points. "Should have been a draw" says The Saint. A rematch was guaranteed.

Training alone in Townsville without sparring partners Templar prepared himself with the resources available for the Cansdell rematch. He arrived in Sydney well conditioned and mentally tough. Prior to the bout Sydney sports broadcaster Ron Casey approached The Saint in the dressing room enquiring if Templar had a readymade poem.

'At the sound of the bell / I'll hit Cansdell!" responded The Saint but added with a sly wink "Only don't tell him that/ it's my plan of attack!"

Within four rounds Templar had Cansdell down for four counts and was seemingly on his way to a short route victory when his cheek was cut. "I'd had worse," offers The Saint. Referee Jimmy Carruthers inspected the cut during round five and halted the bout in Cansdell 's favour. A decision that constantly slow burns with Templar as prior to the stoppage he rates the bout one of his top three performances.

The following day when Templar arrived at Ern McQuillan's gym to collect his match payment he was met and saluted by Australian middleweight champion Tony Mundine. The champ was obviously impressed by the way The Saint manhandled his sparring partner the night before. Later McQuillan confided in Templar that had Carruthers not interceded he was ready to pull Cansdell out of the fight believing he was quickly deteriorating from The Saint's onslaught.

Later Cansdell went on become the undisputed light-heavyweight champion of Australia before entering politics where he remains a much respected MP in the Grafton constituency.

A month later Templar was back in Sydney squaring off against another McQuillan fighter, Hunter McHugh. Vacillating between light-heavyweight and heavyweight depending on condition McHugh was walk up fighter with a punch. For the first round Templar had to endure a barrage of crashing roundhouse rights from McHugh and concedes he was lucky to see out of the round. With more of the same in round two and pressed against the ropes The Saint countered with a big right hand that had its origins near the the bottom rope and whistled up. It caught McHugh and knocked him flat on his back. While Jimmy Carruthers tolled over McHugh The Saint found respite in the neutral corner while chanting to himself sotto voce, "Stay down, you bastard! Stay down!"

McHugh was up at the count of nine but stumbled prompting Carruthers to stop the fight. The Saint by a second round KO.

A fortnight later and on one day's notice Templar flew into Sydney to meet Melbourne's unbeaten Long John McCubbin in a ten rounder. At 6ft 5ins McCubbin was the tallest boxer going around then; a southpaw with an unorthodox technique he could make opponents look ordinary. The Saint was able to match McCubbin early on but a lack of proper conditioning had him running on empty by mid bout. In round five the bout was halted in McCubbin's favour. Templar rates McCubbin as one of his tougher opponents.

SKIPPER. Long after he hung up gloves, John Plant still turns a snappy skip-rope

"Regarding John Plant/Simon Templar my best memory is of him being the movie star!" recalls the genial McCubbin forty years after the fact. "Good boxer, tough with plenty of heart. Would fight anybody anytime as he did against me in Sydney 1970." An accurate summation of The Saint.

Rematched with Hunter McHugh a month later and again at short notice Templar found himself in a similar scenario as the McCubbin bout. By round five he was losing stamina and the bout was halted. "Went like a threshing machine but eventually conked out," explains The Saint.

Back in Townsville The Saint was in a period of transition. Recently married and working full time at his father's plant nursery while harbouring aspirations to study acting and drama he knew something had to give. The Saint announced his retirement from boxing at the end of 1970. Having long entertained the offices of FIGHTER magazine with eloquent and amusing epistles, The Saint posted his valedictory letter to FIGHTER, gracefully bidding farewell from the sweet science to return to civilian life as John Plant.

To fill the void left by boxing Plant commenced to study acting under a local drama teacher and soon gathered roles in Townsville repertory circles. He also claimed a prize when reciting Shakespeare at the Townsville eisteddfod.

Later a chance meeting with a Russian immigrant at a Townsville caravan park introduced him to the game of Chess. With the game's mathematical properties appealing to him Plant became a fixture at the Townsville Chess Club where he played with a rating of 1200.

Then there were the two one-bout boxing comebacks in 1973 and 1976. More altruistic than egotistic Plant accepted the two bouts to simply assist Townsville promoters in getting a boxing fixture off the ground. As a local identity with a certain charisma he readily availed himself knowing his presence in the ring could put bums on seats.

The 1973 comeback was against Joe Sorby, a one time light-middleweight who owned a modest return of three wins in over a dozen bouts. Known to carry a big punch Sorby had recently found form collecting wins over Mardi Manuela and Sione Sani. To accommodate Sorby The Saint agreed to reduce his weight from heavyweight to middleweight and entered the ring looking, in the words of his old mentor Reg Kirkham, like a ghost. A combination of ring rust and poor conditioning had The Saint petering out with the bout halted in round five.

Three years later Plant returned to ring to provide himself as an opponent for another Townsville boxer, Leroy King. Originally a welterweight King had assembled a good body of victories on the Sydney club circuit but was eager to show off his skills to a hometown crowd. Although he trained hard enough for the bout Plant struggled with his younger and faster opponent and eventually the bout was stopped in the ninth when a cut opened over John's eye.

"What I dingbat I was!" says Plant in retrospect. 'What chance did I have against a young, fit fighter and me not having fought for over three years and having only one fight in three years before that. Plus starving myself to 11st 6lbs from over 12st 7lbs.

"I guess it was the actor in me!"

With acting being the dominant passion in John's life he realised that to further his acting skills he needed to leave Townsville. Relocating to Sydney in the late 70's he commenced training under the astute supervision of venerable Australian actress, Colleen Clifford. Benefiting from Clifford's expert tuition John's acting resume blossomed. He quickly acquired roles in numerous television dramas : "Sons And Daughters", "Sweet And Sour", "Waterloo Station", "Punishment", "Bellamy", "A Country Practice", "Fat Pizza" and "All Saints". As well as featuring in several commercials John later played an American seaman in the film adaptation of Bryce Courttenay's "The Potato Factory." Often portraying heavies and outlaws John uses the flinty understatement of a Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood or the smouldering menace of a Robert Mitchum as his acting templates.

However the Sydney move eventually resulted in the dissolution of John's first marriage, a break that was initially devastating for him. After the healing process was complete John was introduced to Irish holidayer, Clare O'Grady and the pair sensing they'd discovered a soulmate in each other married in 1987. Now the parents of three sons, John and Clare enjoy a life of relaxed contentment. As one with a way with words John readily embraces his wife and sons as 'My beautiful reward".

Of his boxing career John can review it philosophically rather than ruefully. He often muses of the possibilities had he chosen to remain with Jack Rennie. Through combinations of bad timing and bad luck he didn't quite get there but he fought the best of his division. Four of his opponents were at one time either national titleholders or claimants at least and one later fought for a Commonwealth title. A realist Plant accepts that some of the damage to his career was self-inflicted when he let acting and boxing sometimes blur.

'A good fighter fights the same every time," offers Plant. "Sometimes I'd go into the ring and say to myself I'll fight like Muhammad Ali and another time like Sugar Ray Robinson. It was the actor in me. But when I messed around like that I was hopeless!".

In essence as either John Plant or Simon Templar he was one of the more memorable boxers of his era. He was genuinely tough, colourful, could ride a punch, and carried one of his own.

Most of all he dared to be different.

- MICHAEL MACDONALD, Melbourne 2011

Special Thanks to John and Clare Plant, Cynthia Delaney, Tracey Davids, Bev Will , John McCubbin.

Jim Bavin, Hard Luck Guy

You can't please everyone so you've got to please yourself.
- Rick Nelson

Geoff Goodfellow, BAVIN, Lou Cecere

This South Australian middleweight boxed professionally between 1972 to 1974. Jimmy Bavin's record of 8 wins, 8 losses and 5 draws might suggest a modest return. But to go beyond the statistical data is to reveal Bavin's career was often hamstrung by close calls, near misses and plain bad luck.

Bavin himself was an educated fighter with a solid punch, whose best work was too often un-noticed or not acknowledged. Subtle in his delivery Jimmy would score points stepping back and counter punching. Much his own man he rarely if ever was drawn into opponents' mindset. A steady driver in heavy traffic.

"I remember Jimmy Bavin well," recalls 70's ranked middleweight and TV Ringside regular Terry Grinsted." He hit hard, Jimmy, and his record belies his reputation at the time really." A distinguished amateur and with a solid professional career Bavin was very much the "boxer's boxer". He trained diligently, was open to advice and always delivered a good night's work. None of his opponents would ever suggest he was a pushover.

Jim Bavin was born in Adelaide 1951 but the first half of his childhood was based in the rural town of Naracoorte. At age 9 he was confronted with one of life's crueller realities when his father was killed in a road accident. An event that was to inform much of Jim's adult ideologies centred around responsibility, economy and loyalty. A man among men.

Relocating to Adelaide in his teens and settling in the harbourside suburb of Taperoo, Bavin took up boxing and established himself as an amateur with genuine promise. He won state titles and peaked in late 1971 when in the interstate trials he stopped the highly favoured Victorian, Wes Carter. The win elevating him to an elimination bout in early 1972 with decorated Queenslander Alan Jenkinson. Bavin dropped a points decision, while opening a cut over his opponent's eye, and Jenkinson went on to represent Australia in the 1972 Munich Olympics.

Bavin decided to turn professional under the tutelage of Colin Betty. Today Jimmy cites Betty as a true mentor and acknowledges the calibre of Betty's stable, where he'd train and spar with Carmen Rotolo, dual national titleholder Billy Choules, Alan Aldenhoven, Colin and Michael Cassidy, Tommy Mears – the cream of South Australia's boxing quotient.

Making his professional debut in Adelaide during March of 1972 Bavin faced off against Bobby "Beetle" Elliott who enjoyed a decorated amateur career and had been around the block as a professional.

LANCE REVILL. One of the good-class fighters Bavin mixed with. Revill now runs gym in NZ

"Bavin Bows In With A Bang" was FIGHTER magazine's headline when Jim KO'd Elliott inside two rounds. Elliott never fought again.

The next two bouts were against the promising Phil Barrett who Bavin had fought in the amateur ranks. Like Jimmy, Barrett had turned professional the same year. In their first bout Jimmy stopped Barrett with a cut eye; their second was a 4 round draw. Momentum was gathering.

In May '72 Wes Carter turned professional stopping Peter Crystal in the first round on a TV Ringside undercard. Jim was brought across the border to meet Carter in a three round prelim. Bavin made a certain impact with the T.V Ringside old guard with his blonde hair pulled back into a full ponytail. Ponytails not being such a prevalent fashion statement in the early 70's, it gave Bavin a slight aura of non-conformity.

Regardless of hair length in a willing stoush the steadier Bavin took the points over Carter. The post-fight analysis found FIGHTER's Mike Sutherland questioning the pair's supposed lack of attention to defensive smarts, which today Jim views with some good-natured humour.

His next Ringside bout saw Bavin knocking the hardy scrapper Billy Marmo cold in two rounds, which set up a rematch with Wes Carter. Probably the only real blemish in Bavin's career, both amateur and professional, this was the one instance where he lost inside the distance.

In round four Carter caught Bavin with a damaging punch to the temple, which few actually witnessed, cutting his feet beneath him. Bavin recalls being assisted upright by referee Al Basten who shook him hard as perhaps a head-clearing exercise. Pushed back into the fight Bavin, still unsteady, fell into a clinch only to be twice slung to the canvas by Carter, which prompted Basten to halt the bout. Any opportunity of a rematch evaporated as Carter abandoned boxing shortly after.

Undeterred Bavin returned to Melbourne in late November meeting Ricky Datsun, then the most credentialled fighter Bavin had faced. A granite chinned journeyman Datsun had fought many of Australia's best, including Brendon Jackson, Ian Robb, Joe Hill and Eddie Dawson, as well as taking Billy Choules 15 tough rounds in a challenge for the Australian Light-Middleweight title. More decidedly Datsun had taken Tony Mundine the full distance in 1969 while remaining upright for the bout's duration.

Halfway through round one Bavin immediately earned bragging rights when he knocked Datsun to the canvas with a clean jolting punch. No other fighter prior had knocked Datsun off his feet. The fact even surprised Jim who initially thought that Datsun had moved out of his field of vision as opposed to having his silks on the canvas. For the remainder of bout Bavin clearly outboxed Datsun taking the points.

However a six round rematch which closed TV Ringside's 1972 season saw Datsun take the points. "I went into my shell that night" offers Bavin, explaining that when rematched he often was inclined to let opponents take the initiative in the hope he could exploit their weaknesses or errors. With some dry humour Jim adds that that helped them more than himelf.

At short notice Bavin accepted his first bout for 1973 at Elizabeth's Octagon Theatre against Wayne Pengilly who'd beaten him in the amateurs. In his first Adelaide bout in a year Bavin was too good for Pengilly. A month later Jim was back on TV Ringside against hard nut Ian Prudham. A walk-up fighter who was content to take two punches to land one Prudham's style was made to order for Jimmy who counter-punched his way to a six round decision.

The same night at Carlton's Down Towner Motel, where Ringside's interstate and international boxers used to lodge, Bavin said hello to Fijian arrival, Cama Waqa. Jimmy remarked to the taller and heavier Fijian, "I'm glad I'm not fighting you!!"

A month later he was matched with Waqa in a six rounder.

A light-heavyweight Waqa took the decision over Bavin but the South Australian kept him honest throughout. (For the record Waqa won all four of his Melbourne bouts.)

Becoming now something of a road warrior Bavin then had his first eight-rounder in Marrickville, NSW against cagey campaigner Steve Hallcroft who had previously fought Rocky Mattioli.

Losing on points to the experienced Hallcroft Bavin also picked up a curious ring injury : grazing his forehead on the top rope the graze within a week had festered into a long scab.

Returning to TV Ringside in July Jimmy was rematched with Ian Prudham again over six. Early in round one Bavin was knocked off his feet by a combination of push, half-punch and trip. Ruled as a knock down, Bavin begrudgingly took the eight count then calmly returned to the task at hand. For the remainder of the interesting bout Bavin counter-punched with consummate ease only for the bout to be deemed a draw. Certain Melbourne boxing scribes being alarmed at the amount of punches Prudham absorbed.

Meeting Prudham for the third time on the Charkey Ramon-Don McMillan card over eight, the pair provided one of TV Ringside's most memorable bouts of the year. But it nearly didn't start that way- admonished early by Al Basten for not being earnest enough and the threat of a no-contest Bavin and Prudham then truly went to work. With the all the elements of the classic boxer (Bavin) versus the fighter (Prudham) it was tension and no release all the way, with Prudham taking the decision in what must have been the slenderest of margins. Even many of the parochial Victorians felt a draw would have been more equitable. A shower of coins spattered the ring for over a minute as indication of the Melbourne crowd's approval.

Taking another Marrickville assignment after Prudham Jim was matched with the gifted but erratic Ray McGrady over eight. At that time McGrady was in fine form having collected wins over danger men in Al Korovou and Kahu Mahanga. Giving McGrady a solid workout over eight Jimmy lost the decision but picked up admiration from McGrady along the way with McGrady shouting Bavin a post-bout beer. Of his professional opponents Bavin rates McGrady, who sadly died young, his toughest.

Closing out 1973 Bavin was back on TV Ringside in a six rounder against big hitting Samoan, Eddie Tavui, who a year previously was considered good enough to fight Charkey Ramon. Along the way Tavui had picked up wins against solid opposition in the likes of Errol McIvor and Billy Fatu.

Against Tavui Bavin boxed with caution rather than stand toe to toe with the dangerous Islander thus being able to slip many of Tavui's big punches. Mid bout cuts had opened over Tavui's eyes which became severe enough for the bout to be halted in Bavin's favour during the fifth round.

Beginning 1974 Jim was again in Melbourne taking on two bouts with Victorian Graham Battams. A rough diamond Battams had already attracted a following via his boisterous ring style, earning him the sobriquet of Boom Boom. Both were entertaining bouts on a similar level to Jim's third bout with Ian Prudham, and both were declared draws. The tied verdicts may have been a satisfying result for the Melbourne crowd who truly got more than their two bobs worth from both boxers. Although purists noted that Bavin was the far better boxer in the technical sense.

Earning his first main event and 10-rounder in May 1974, Jim and fellow Croweater Phil Barrett were matched for the South Australian Middleweight Title at Adelaide's Chrysler Sports Club. Although Barrett was coming off four consecutive defeats he had long earned a healthy respect from Jim. "Don't worry about Phil," says Bavin "He'd always give you a good fight!"

Both gave a good fight that night with Bavin opening a cut over Barrett's eye and seemingly doing enough to take the points. Referee from Melbourne, Max Carlos, thought otherwise and crowned Barrett as state champion. From promoter Geoff Goodfellow to boxing sage Gus Mecurio, and down to the rank & file, all felt Bavin earned the decision.

Now a ranked middleweight Bavin took on what appeared to be a tough and dangerous assignment in Wellington, New Zealand against Lance Revill, one of NZ's most accomplished amateurs. A bronze medallist in the Commonwealth Games Revill had recently turned professional and seemed on a short route to the big time. Maybe the Kiwi crowd had mistakenly assumed Bavin was selected as nothing more than target practice for Revill but Jim quickly erased that misconception by testing Revill all the way even though he dropped the decision, albeit honourably.

Accepting a 10-rounder in Marrickville, Jim met Samoan Logan "Rocky" Taitin, a rough cuff who had done a bit of damage on the Sydney club circuit. For the first half Bavin took the points when he wanted them and seemed set for a decisive victory.

But mid-fight Jimmy had what could be tagged his moment of truth. Thinking to himself "Why am I here for? What am I doing here?" Bavin withdrew into himself for the remainder of the fight content to just get the job over. The result was a drawn bout.

By the time Jim was walking through Adelaide airport he was an ex-boxer. There would be no change of heart or any misguided comebacks.

Although he still had much juice in the tank to continue as a regular main event boxer, the pragmatist in Bavin had weighed up the options. With only sporadic boxing promotions in Adelaide, and TV Ringside downsizing its Melbourne cards, Bavin saw the only alternative as travelling for bouts to Sydney and Brisbane.

Raising a young family combined with his solid work ethic, Bavin closed down his boxing career on entirely his own volition. A realist Bavin harbours no grudges and displays a total absence of bitterness with his tenure in boxing. Often he will revisit his career with a healthy portion of Bavinesque dry humour. The Bavin manifesto is a fundamental one - life goes on.

In the closing scenes of "On The Waterfront " Marlon Brando mumbles to Rod Steiger the now much quoted lines: "I coulda been a contender! I coulda been somebody!" Jim Bavin was a contender and is a somebody.

Australia's blue collar poet Geoff Goodfellow, an acute judge of character, offers of Jim Bavin, "He's a winning bloke too - you won't find many better than Jimmy Bavin!" Anyone who has been in Jimmy's presence will present no disagreement.

-- Michael Macdonald, Melbourne, Victoria 2010.
Thanks to Jim and Wendy Bavin, Geoff Goodfellow, Joshua Bavin, Colin Betty, Terry Grinsted, Mike C Ryan, Bev Will and Tracey Davids.

Paraplegia Can't Keep This Boxer Down

Hank Stanley, 77, died IN FOOTSCRAY on January 14, 2011. He Had Long Been Victorian boxing's #1 favourite. We re-run a profile from the Sunday Press 27 years ago. Click on the image to read full copy.

700 boxing Ryans

Even knowing that the treasure chest of world boxing, BoxRec, holds more than a million fight results, and hundreds of thousands of names, from the late 19th century to our 21st century, I was still surprised by the extent of the Ryans who boxed pro.

It took more than an hour to roll them all out. Seven hundred Ryans.

Barney, Bill, Blackjack Billy and Battling Larry Ryan.

Bluey and Boko Ryan. Frenchy and Fritz Ryan.

Dave Rocky Ryan, Denver Johnny and James J Ryan. Irving and Itsy Ryan.

A good Australian middleweight in the 1960s, Jim Ryan. Probably got tired of the too-common surname and went for a time as Sonny Reon. Sonny, aka Jim Ryan. Sonny Reon (latin pronounce?) had a starting streak of 16 wins as a teenager; he beat Arthur Larrigo six times in 1967. But after a win over Mick Croucher, Jim Ryan lost six of his last seven against topsters Mahanga, Blair, Delargy, Taupola and Billy Bell.

Lightweight Johnny Ryan in the 1940s kept taking on the best – and losing. Norm Gent, Ken Bailey, Tommy Watts, Joe Crisafi beat him.

Ryan sounds Irish, a lot of the clan hailed out of Tipperary. So how about these boxing Ryans - Frenchy, Fritz and Dago.

Frenchy Ryan from Moxee, Washington won six of 20 in depression years. There were two Fritz Ryans and each won his only pro fight.

Dago Ryan came not from old Napoli but from Dallas, Texas. Dago drew twice with a Dallas rival Duke Trammel and ND'd his third . . so he never tasted defeat or victory.

The big boys of the Ryan Clan adopted catchy first names. Blondy Ryan was a Pittsburgh heavyweight whose southpaw stance failed to save him from nine knockouts in the 1930s including one by contender Lee Savold.

Blondy kept climbing through the ropes until 1943. Last go Bearcat Jones, a Pennsylvania neighbour who'd lost 13 fights straight, outpointed him.

Dicky Ryan won heavyweight attention as The Raging Bull. The Omaha, Nebraska puncher racked up 44 KOs in 55 contests, a chart dented at the end by four sometime heavyweight champions, Vladimir Klitschko, Nikolay Valuev, Shannon Briggs and Hasim Rahman. These four delivered sleeping tablets on Dicky Ryan.

Back to the 19th century, Ryans were donning gloves. Itsy Ryan, a Brooklyn lightweight; and middleweight Boko Ryan who gets only one entry in BoxRec (a KO16 win, suggesting it wasn't his only pro contest.)

Who have we got right now carrying the name. Ryan has tended to be a forename these days. Ryan Langham was sunk wearing it. Aaron Ryan from England lost his first three starts in Australia.

Wonder if there are as many fighting Jones listed in BoxRec? Smiths? Wilsons? Leave it to somebody else to dig that mine.

– Mike C Ryan.

Boxing Bookcase Jack Kearns, Kolossal kidder

Just finished reading "The Million Dollar Gate" by Jack (Doc) Kearns, as told to Oscar Fraley.

Kearns was Jack Dempsey's manager. The front cover calls him "the greatest fight manager of them all." The book is a great read.

Oscar Fraley was an established writer in The Ring magazine and he probably taped these grandiose tales. If Boxrec with its millions of fight results had existed before the book was published in 1966, Fraley might have put some cautions on the Doc's claims.

The great boaster admits "gilding the lily has always been my way,"

He reports that before becoming a manager he boxed "a career of some 60 bouts" which "proved that I could punch." To begin with he knocked out Jolly Rogers in 12 seconds flat in Butte. BoxRec lists nobody called Jolly Rogers (the Doc flying his pirate colours early?).

In Boxrec, Kearns' career inside the ropes came to a total of TWO bouts. It records him KOd in 3 by Maurice Thompson, and KOd in 9 by Billy Lauder. Doc was the manager of both Thompson and Lauder.

In his book Jack Kearns says he fought Louis Long. A boxer managed by Kearns, Aurelio Herrera, fought Louie Long three times.

Says he fought Fritz Holland (who beat Les Darcy two out of four). Holland didn't turn pro till 1910, when Kearns had been a manager for six years.

Says he boxed a draw with Mysterious Billy Smith, ex-world welterweight champion.

The Doc says he fought Martin Flaherty. The nearest to this in Boxrec is Tim Kearns, who beat Flaherty in Brooklyn when Jack Kearns was a teenager.

Says he fought Nick Burley. The Yukon heavyweight, Burley, won more than half his bouts by knockout and faced world heavyweight champs Corbett, Fitzsimmons and Jeffries. Our spinner was a lightweight to welterweight.

Jack Kearns writes, "I boxed the Australian Tommy Tracey in Portland and Vancouver" . No mention in Tracey's BoxRec record.

As becomes obvious, Kearns is plucking as many names for Fraley out of the thin air of half a century ago, as he can get away with.

"I wasn't ever going to be a world beater as a fighter," says the Doc. So he turned to promoting.

The tall stories he put over to the newspapermen drew ever larger crowds.

"I became a dealer in adult fairy tales," he says unblushing in the book.

* "The Million Dollar Gate" is one long fairy tale. A great read at that.

– Mike C Ryan.

It's Goodbye to Gus

They buried Gus Mercurio in Melbourne on December 20. A boxing identity for more than 40 years, Mercurio died a fortnight earlier during heart surgery. Gus was 82.

He came to Australia from Milwaukee, Wisconsin at 28. Later Gus told reporter Nat Crafti [FIGHTER May 1971] about his ring career, 65 amateur fights and 36 professional fights.

BoxRec credits Gene Mercurio, 21, of Milwaukee,Wisconsin, for two pro fights, losses.

Likely the record giant confused names.

Gus Mercurio was the original commentator on the Channel O-1O fights, and later became the smoothest moving referee in the land. At the time of his death he was president of the Australian Boxing Hall of Fame.

Television Channel SBS finished a documentary chapter of Who Do You Think You Are? starting with Gus' son Paul Mercurio, months ago. Since then the Mercurio chapter is booked for Sunday evening, Boxing Day, December 26. Has the funeral been delayed to chime in?

# Watch for a 1975 FIGHTER front cover showing Gus Mercurio the cowboy referee.

– Mike C Ryan.

Tink's Terrific Total

JOHNNY Famechon was about to go on 'This is Your Life' and Brian Tink was standing beside him.

Tink could be called the Famechon of the Amateurs. His 468 contests set the Australian record. Tink won 399 bouts and was never stopped by a fellow Australian.

From his debut (which he lost) - aged nine, weighing 4 stone (25 kg) - Tink grew up to win six Australian titles in Flyweight, Lightweight and Light-welterweight divisions.

He stood 5 ft 10 in. tall during his whole senior career.

After an international bout he weighed 1 1/2 stone heavier two days later!

The smooth mover from Dubbo, NSW is the only Australian to win both junior and senior national flyweight championships in one year, his 17th – matching the feat Randolph Turpin attained in Britain.

Next year, 1976, Tink was a flyweight at Montreal Olympic Games, our youngest Olympic boxer.

Add a year: meet the Australian lightweight champion.

In 1978 Tink went up to light-welterweight to win the national title, leaving the lighties open to his Dubbo gym mate, Stan Ferguson.

FIGHTER Magazine, back cover, May 1978

Lightweight again in '79, Brian Tink in Madison Square Garden's Felt Forum gave Azumah Nelson a close go, after which Azumah turned professional.

Tink was never close to joining the money ranks himself, despite temptings. He kept a letter Ambrose Palmer sent, the great trainer inviting him to join his Melbourne Stadium stable. And a Brisbane caller said he represented Reg Layton, offering $30,000 for a Tink pro debut.

"Any job you get tired of after three years - and pro boxing is a job," Brian Tink offers an unusual explanation.

The eighties brought Tink a World bronze in Montreal, and a Commonwealth Games bronze, with wins over NZ and Wales – having first stopping Tony Jones in two rounds to gain the selection.

The swansong of Brian Tink was runner-up to Renato Cornett in a split decision in the 1984 N.S.W. Olympic trials as a light-welter.

His long career was coached by his father Bucky Tink, by Colin Kirkness, Alan Metcalf and Steve Cansdell, Australian pro light-heavyweight champ. They all contributed to his combination of speed and defence, with Cansdell exceptional.

Joe Bridges, editor of 'Amateur Boxer', called Tink 'the Dubbo Dynamo'. In this picture taken from Bridges magazine, Brian Tink with flying hair and furious fists knocks Koby Mivanai of Kenya out of their fight and into hospital. It was World titles opening series in Belgrade. In later bout Belgrade crowd booed points decision given to Bienvenido Lazo of Cuba over the Aussie dynamo.

Today Brian Tink and his ex-sparmate brother Wayne run Murrumbar Pet Meat, a fresh meat company, and keep 1,500 merino sheep on the grazing land established by their dad.

+ Two scraps in the old FIGHTER. We suggested Tink trim his hair, because when it bounced judges might score he'd been hit. Long locks were the fashion. Brian ignored the suggestion.

Another item reported that Les Hall challenged Brian Tink to 'stop dodging' him.

Thereupon Tink beat Les Hall five times!

– Mike C Ryan.

Shamateurism takes over

The singlets are off. The helmets are off. The reign of amateurism is way, way off, as the World Series of Boxing goes into its second month around the world.

The International Amateur Boxing Association (AIBA) all through the 20th century used to spout "simon pure." Now it falls for the big bikkies. IMG the sporting agency offered its "commercial guidance" and its "marketing efficiency" to put a new face on fistics.

Show me the money and I'll swap principles.

Teams of the best amateurs from many countries have switched continents to box for cash purses bigger than the average main event pro.

Australia's Trent Rawlins, heavyweight, and Luke Boyd, bantamweight, flew to join US teams.

It is not yet clear whether the snow white International Olympic Committee (IOC) will leap the river and join the switch.

The AIBA owns 75 per cent of the Swiss company pulling the purse strings of World Series of Boxing. IMG owns 25 per cent.

Can we expect the IOC Olympians to keep their paws out of the bucket?

Boxing has been the last sport that banned professionals from Olympic Games competition.

The national federations of the 195 countries under AIBA's banner are all said to be "stakeholders" in World Series of Boxing.

Prelim thoughts: It's going to be far better to watch, at any rate.

It will put present pro boxing in the shade.

– Mike C Ryan.

Wale sinks a sub

OMOTOSO left hook flush on Juan Godoy

Australia's Nigerian-born welterweight , Wale Omotoso pulled another packed house of 2,000-plus to Murray Thomson's Knox Netball Centre promotion on Friday, November 26. Wale, now tagged 'Lucky Boy', was meeting a substitute when his original opponent, Muhammad Abdullayev pulled out.

Omotoso notched his 16th KO in 18 victories, against Argentinean, Juan Alberto Godoy.

Juan A Godoy echoed a famous name: his forerunner, Arturo Godoy, went 15 rounds with Joe Louis.

But Juan was no heavy. At 65.2, 1.4 kgs lighter than Wale, the lean Latin looked lighter still. He had won 25 bouts, with 10 KOs.

Wale, with a body of chiselled ebony, stalked from the outset. Godoy bobbed and weaved, and ducked and dived, gamely trying to stay in the game, but it seemed obvious it was only a matter of time.

Murray Thomson trains and promotes Omotoso. The champ has four belts ... so far.

The end came at 2 mins 51 secs of the 4th, when a flurry of punches from Omotoso sent the South American reeling over backwards, badly dazed. His cornerman from Argentina rightly threw in the towel to halt the affair.

In the first 4x3 preliminary, muscular New Guinean, Kartu Arang (54.60), won a split decision over taller, leaner, Scott McLaughlin (55 kgs).

I thought it clearly Arang's fight, with cleaner punches, as did two of the judges.

McLaughlin, a new arrival from Scotland, was turning pro after an amateur career. He started each round well but Arang finished most rounds the stronger.

Clinton Johnson (78.20) took a majority decision over Moses Ioelu (78.30) in a tough bout over 6x3s. Two judges gave Johnson the nod, the other scored a draw. Both boys took some hard blows, in a match which see-sawed dramatically.

Stocky Manny Vlamis (80.4) put rangy New Zealander Jeff Stutt (78.4) down for the full count with a body blow in 2 minutes flat of round one in a scheduled 6x3.

Vlamis' swinging haymakers did the trick. He hit too hard with effective if not text-book bombs. He was exciting to watch. Rocky Graziano, the undisciplined champ of the late 1940s, sprang briefly to mind.

– CARY YOUNG.

The Greatest – choose from two

Manny Pacquiao, the amazing Filipino, has just won his latest world title in seven different weight divisions.

The southpaw puncher banged up Antonio Margarito so badly over 12 rounds in Texas on November 13, that pictures of the loser's frightfully bruised face were displayed in all media. The bout was for the WBC's vacant light-middleweight title, between actual welterweights.

Pacquiao started out in 1995 as a light-flyweight. He won the WBC world flyweight championship in Thailand, December 1998, and lost it to another Thai nine months later.

In June 2002 the PacMan was three divisions heaver, winning the IBF super-bantam (junior-feather) title from a Colombian in Tennessee.

He won the WBC super-feather (junior-lightweight) in March 2008 by split decision 12 from the great Juan Manuel Marquez; and three months later claimed the WBC lightweight title by tko9 of David Diaz in Las Vegas.

Fighting non-title, weighing 142 1/2 pounds Pacquiao bagged a great name, Oscar De La Hoya, in eight rounds in Las Vegas in December 2008.

Another great name, Ricky Hatton, fell in two rounds to Pacquiao who weighed 138 lb, for the IBO light-welterweight bauble in Las Vegas, May 2009.

In November 2009 in Las Vegas at 144 pounds the Pacman kayoed Miguel Angel Cotto for the WBO welterweight title.

He defended that once -- then last week in Texas he gave Margarito a pounding and took the vacant WBC light-middleweight.

Manny was 11 cm shorter than his latest opponent; he has been relatively shorter than all his opponents since the featherweight years.

He weaves and keeps punching, demoralizing them all.

Now I want to recall the other man in fight history who compares to Manny Pacquiao in quantity and quality.

Henry Armstrong. Hurricane Henry Armstrong. Homicide Hank.

Armstrong (birth name Melody Jackson) began highly unpromisingly in 1931. He lay on his face knocked out in his very first fight, a four-rounder. And he lost two of his next three.

Thereafter recovering, in a long and great career Henry Armstrong notched 101 knockout wins.

The prime period, six years after that glum start, occupied less than 12 months. Henry KOd Petey Sarron for the world featherweight title in six rounds at the Garden in October 1937. In May 1938 he jumped a stone to beat world welterweight champion Barney Ross over 15 rounds. And in August 1938 he took the lightweight crown from Lou Ambers. These were the days of only one world title per division.

"I don't believe the feat (three in a year) will ever be seen again," wrote the all-time great boxing writer, Nat Fleischer. How right!

The three-titles span then would cover five titles now. Likewise, Sugar Ray Robinson didn't bother with the sub-divisions between his welterweight and middleweight crowns, and his light-heavyweight bid [light-middle, super-middle].

A month after becoming lightweight king, Henry Armstrong relinquished his feather crown. And he lost the lightweight back to Ambers a year later.

But Hurricane Henry kept his welterweight rule. He beat the best in a run of a dozen successful defences, mostly himself weighing only lightweight. Eventually Fritzie Zivic took over the welter title in two fights lasting 27 rounds in 1940/41.

Henry took Sugar Ray Robinson the distance in 1943. Armstrong was going well in California till 1945.

Pacquiao or Armstrong? Who was greater? Adding Sugar Ray, make the choice out of three.

The sham and the shame

Danny Green is set to meet B J Flores of Arizona in Danny's hometown on Wednesday, November 17, having washed his hands of complicity in the Briggs sham.

Sham contest is what the lengthily-named but little-experienced Professional Combat Sports Commission of West Australia called the quick dive Paul Briggs took – 34 seconds to be exact – on July 21.

The commission ruled that this was a sham contest but NOT a dive. Call it a flop, then, that Briggs took: sank to his knees when a left poke went over his pate and barely grazed the top of his head.

On last week's ruling, Danny Green told the Perth press the findings were not his concern. "My concern is to defeat B J Flores. The findings clearing me was always an inevitable outcome.

"Everyone in this country knows I fight with honour and integrity. Always have, always will."

It seems Danny Green was the only man in boxing who didn't know, when the Green Machine made the match, that Briggs was a spent force. That two title fights in the USA had ruined him. That the NSW commission refused to allow a Green v Briggs matchup to contaminate the Eastern seaboard. That it was virtually no contest.

Commission chairman Simon Watters refused to release its full report. He admits knowing that the commission doctor at the weigh-in had concerns about Briggs.. but "I don't believe he relayed those concerns to us."

The blame went back to Sydney trainer Billy Hussein. Billy is preparing an appeal. "They don't know me, said Billy, "I'm appealing everything. I've got the best lawyer in Australia pound-for-pound." [Fighter knows Billy Hussein is an honest dealer].

Watters again. What about Briggs getting knocked down in a spar? "We became aware of certain matters after the event.

"Once we grant approval for a contest under our current Act we don't have the power to revoke the permit."

POST SCRIPT.
Will Benjamin (B J) Flores provide 100 per cent opposition? He's undefeated in 25 contests with 14 KOs. Though he lives in Arizona, one of his rare appearances in the home state was against "Ali Supreme" – down and out in round one.

Flores hasn't fought for fifteen months.

– Mike C Ryan.

Our Oyewale – oi, oi, oi!

The poster bills him "undefeated world champion in the making," a neat summation of Wale Omotoso. The Melbourne welterweight won all his 17 fights, 15 by knockout. Fighters Factory is bringing the acid test for Omotoso, in the match of the year, Muhammad Abdullayev.

Abdullayev won Olympic Games gold, was world amateur champion, and stretched Miguel Cotto eleven rounds in Madison Square Garden.

The Uzbek, Abdullayev, boxed in old-Soviet Uzbekistan and the USA, on one Australian visit crushing Philip Holiday's ill-advised comeback.

For this master match, Omotoso v Abdullayev, Melbourne's Knox Netball Centre on November 26 mightn't be big enough. Murray Thomson , 'Modest Mr T', still has time to consider switching the match to 7,000-seater Festival Hall.

The name Oyewale Omotoso was not an easy catch-on; abbreviating it to Wale did not catch the light hogged by an audacious 'Man', Anthony Mundine.

Omotoso needs a nickname. Any suggestions? Send to fighter-online for your small part in OO's climb.

Kali wins at home

After his world title shot in May, Kali Meehan returned to the ring in Sydney on September 2. Australia's best-ever heavyweight, Meehan boxed a 12-rounder against Evans Quinn, a Nicaraguan based in Miami, Florida. Kali outscored the back-mover on the judges' cards by eight, four and three points.

PERTH puncher Adam Forsyth stopped Chicago cruiser Chris Thomas in round four, his eighth KO in nine starts. The ex-amateur champ always looked a pro.

Fammo rediscovered

Boxing historian Gary Luscombe made a find. In an auction lot was a bundle of brand new 1971 'Fammo', the Johnny Famechon autobiography. "Unread, unsold, still wrapped in bundles. Never hit the shelves of a bookstore. Sat in a box at the back of the bookstore for nearly forty years."

A joint venture with Gary and Fam is having the books signed by the 1969 world champ. To obtain this gem for your shelf inquire at Garyluscombe@hotmail.com.

Luscombe was an amateur welterweight at the Sandringham gym when Earthquake Carter trained. Buying his first boxing book, a Bev Will 'Fighter Lady', started something in Gary. Thirty-five years on he has over 700 volumes.

After The Fight

KALI Meehan lost the WBA final eliminator in Rostock to Ruslan Chagaev on a 12-round points decision.

The Uzbek southpaw is a decade younger than 40-year-old Meehan. Chagaev won by five, six and eight points on the judges' cards.

Michigan trainer Stacy McKinley and Mark Janssen's cousin Seb worked Kali's corner.

In a probable boxing first, Magic Mark back in Australia watching Foxtel kept a telephone line open ten thousand miles for the hour of combat to pass Seb directions.

Meehan was not troubled to face a southpaw – he'd put three knockouts on Colin Wilson. But the 21 months that passed since his last combat blunted his edge.

Keen Kali Mean for history

Australian fighters have won fistfuls of world boxing championships in the course of more than a century.

From Bantamweight, Jimmy Carruthers, to Light-Heavyweight, Hitman Harding, undisputed champs of the 20th century.

But we have not won the World Heavyweight Title - not since Bob Fitzsimmons downed Gentleman Jim Corbett with his solar plexus rip in the 19th century.

This weekend could rewrite history. Our New Zealand-born, Australian citizen, Kali Meehan meets Ruslan Chagaev for the WBA Heavyweight Title in Rostock, Germany on May 22.

The World Boxing Association was the original world body.

Kali Meehan had his first shot at a heavyweight title five years ago. He ran Lamon Brewster to a split decision over 12 rounds in Las Vegas. A great bout, not a great title. The WBO (World Boxing Organisation) crown.

Kali Meehan won the now long-delayed opportunity when he pushed DaVarryl Williamson off #1 rung in the WBA with a smashing six-round knockout word for word at M