Time Tunnel: How War Has Affected the Heavyweight Title

by B. R. Bearden

19.04 - With the war in Iraq taking up a lot of my TV time, I got to thinking about how different things are now regarding war and boxing. There have been three times in boxing history when a war had a very marked impact on boxing, especially in the championship ranks.

The last time boxing was heavily influenced by war was during Vietnam, when Muhammad Ali refused military induction. No matter which side you take concerning Ali and his stand, there is one thing undeniable; stripping Ali of his title in 1967 jumbled up the heavyweight championship picture for years.

In 1971, when the US Supreme court ruled in favor of the Louisville Lip, there was a chance to settle the champion question. But by then fans were split on who was actually the champion. Some sided with Joe Frazier, who had beaten Jimmy Ellis for the "vacated" title, while others stuck with Ali, the "People's Champion". Even after Frazier defeated Ali in one of the greatest heavyweight contests there were still those who refused to acknowledge Ali wasn't the champion. Frazier lost to Foreman in 1973, and Ali won the title back from Big George the following year and for a brief, final glory time was champion again.

And that should have put the confusion to rest. But with the coming of the dreaded "sanctioning bodies", who are little better than robber barons, the situation muddied up again. After Larry Holmes, there was a flurry of champions who came and went so fast, it was hard to keep up with who held what belt. Tyson changed that and unified the title and Lennox Lewis has at least consolidated enough of the belts to earn the position of heavyweight champion.

In an early day there was less confusion. You could have one, and only one, champion per weight class. What a concept! And in 1941, the heavyweight champion was Joe Louis and the light heavyweight was Billy Conn. In order to take a shot at Louis's title, Conn was willing to drop the light heavyweight belt. After all, he had held it successfully for two years and could always go back for it if he lost to Louis. Such are the thoughts of the confident.

Conn lost to Louis in one of the greatest fights of all time, and a rematch was immediately in the works. But a broken hand sustained by Conn put the rematch on hold for months and the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941, but it on hold indefinitely.

The boxing commision decided that championships would be frozen "for the duration of the war". Louis and Conn went off to tour for the troops, fighting exhibitions and getting older. Other champions followed suit; Tony Zale set aside his middleweight crown to join the Navy for example. And Joe Louis would hearten many when he declared, "We'll win this war, because we' re on God's side."

Not only boxing, but all sports and other vocations were put on the back burner for World War II. Ted Williams, perhaps the greatest pure hitter in baseball history, flew fighter planes (and again in the Korean War!). The actor Jimmy Stewart flew bombing missions over Germany (His son would later die fighting in Vietnam). And on the other side of the Atlantic, German ex-champion Max Schmeling, who had angered Hitler by losing his rematch with Louis, was forced into the paratroopers and spent the war on the front lines.

How much did World War II sidetrack boxing? Joe Louis defended his title twice after the outbreak of the war; beating Buddy Baer in one round in January, 1942, and Abe Simon in six in March. And from then on, until February 1946, not a single title bout was held above the weight of lightweight. For four years there were no title fights for the welterweight, middleweight, light heavyweight or heavyweight crowns.

By the time hostilities ended and the championships could be contested, Louis was 32 and Zale 33. Billy Conn proved to have lost his greatness somewhere during the war and failed in a disappointing rematch with Louis five years and a day in the making.

World War I also had it's affect on the sport. Georges Carpentier, so good that he had held, in succession, the welterweight, middleweight, light heavyweight, and heavyweight titles of Europe, left the ring to fight for his native France. Twice decorated, he emerged from the war as a true hero and resumed his boxing career, winning the world light heavyweight title but losing his bid for Jack Dempsey's heavyweight crown.

Dempsey had not served in the war, and was called a "slacker" because of it. He was taken to Federal court and faced years in prison if it were proven he deliberately avoided serving. After a trial that ran for months, Dempsey was acquitted when a Naval officer came forward to testify that Jack had tried

to enlist but somehow the paperwork got lost in the shuffle. Still, he was a slacker to many, and when he fought Carpentier many Americans were pulling for the Frenchmen. After easily defeating the smaller Carpentier, Dempsey was still not a popular champion because of the war and his lack of service. When an ex-Marine named Gene Tunney came along, it was again the war veteran against the slacker. Only in defeat did Dempsey gain the respect of the fans, who realized they didn't care for the cultured Tunney after all.

During World War II Dempsey trained troops and managed to work his way to the Pacific and demanded the right to lead the men he trained when they landed on Okinawa. An officer told Dempsey, "You stay here with me, Jack. We can't afford to lose you."

Dempsey replied, "Sir, I trained these boys and they look up to me. I go where they go." At 49 years of age, Dempsey put to rest the "slacker" charges when he went ashore with the troops.

Three great eras of heavyweight boxing, that of Dempsey, Louis, and Ali, all affected by war. And out of it what to make of the men themselves? Should Dempsey have gone to fight in Europe? Or Ali in Vietnam? Did Louis give up his prime years to fight exhibitions only to have the IRS rake him over the goals later for back taxes without regard to his service? Or did they all cope with the situation in their own way, as best they knew?

Perhaps Dempsey spoke for all boxers, whether they served or not, when he told author Roger Kahn, "You know, in World War I they said I was a slacker. In World War II they said I was a hero. They were wrong both times."