Boxing

ERNIE TERRELL, OVERSHADOWED HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION

by Mike Dunn

In one sense, Ernie Terrell came along at the perfect time. In another sense, the timing of the angular heavyweight boxer with the long left jab and frustrating < if not crowd-pleasing > style couldn't have been worse.

Terrell was born April 4, 1939, in Belzoni, Miss., but he is associated to this day with his adopted hometown of Chicago. The 6-foot-6 pugilist and singer posted a 46-9 record from 1957-73 and, in his prime, was a promiment figure in the heavyweight division. He held the World Boxing Association title from March of 1965, when he decisioned Eddie Machen in 15 rounds, to February of 1967, when he lost a 15-round decision to Muhammad Ali in an infamous unification bout remembered for Ali's ceaseless taunting of Terrell.

Style points

Terrell was a strategist in the ring. He had 21 knockouts in his career, but he wasn't known for the power in his punches. He was known instead for his intelligent, if cautious, manner and his befuddling jabbing-and-holding style. Terrell attempted to get optimum use from the height and reach advantages that he usually enjoyed, with predictable results. A typical Terrell fight would go the distance. Terrell would jab effectively and hold off his foe when he attempted to get inside. Like Virgil Hill or Joey Maxim, he would win convincingly, though not in a way that inspired standing ovations.

Fighting almost exclusively out of Chicago in the early years, Terrell posted a 25-2 record before being matched by manager Big Julie Isaacson with contender Cleveland Williams in April of 1962. Two early victories of note were a first-round knockout over undefeated Joe Hemphill at Chicago Stadium in September of 1958, and an eight-round decision over a part-time fighter and full-time policeman named Tunney Hunsaker in May of 1959. Most know Hunsaker, a decent journeyman, as the man who opposed Cassius Clay in Clay's first pro fight two years later. In the spring of '62, Terrell traveled to Houston to take on the murderous-punching Williams and never heard the bell ring for round eight. Williams' punches did him in the round before.

Climbing the ladder

Terrell bounced back with six straight wins against journeymen before meeting Williams again in April of 1963 in Philadelphia. This time, Terrell won a 10-round decision, by far his biggest triumph to that point. It was evident in the rematch with Williams that Terrell was perfecting the jab-and-maul approach that would serve him well for the remainder of his years in the ring. The second time around, Terrell's tactics enabled him to avoid the big bombs of Williams. He effectively neutralized Williams' power by keeping jabs in Williams' face when the two were at long range, and then clinching the muscular "Big Cat" when Williams attempted to get close enough to deliver the hard stuff.

After beating Williams, Terrell placed himself even more prominently in the heavyweight mix with decisions over highly regarded Zora Folley and Germany's Gerhard Zech in New York. Zech. a lanky lefty with a similarly frustrating style, came to Madison Square Garden with a 27-1 record. On the heels of Terrell's satisfying (if not breathtaking) win over Zech came a decision over fringe contender Jefferson Davis in Miami and a 7-round knockout of future lightheavyweight champion Bob Foster. A knockout over Henry Wallitsch in October of 1964 in St. Louis gave Terrell 12 consecutive wins, a 37-3 overall record, and a spot among the top contenders vying for the crown now held by Clay.

This is where Terrell's timing couldn't have been better. Terrell benefited from the turbulence surrounding the first reign of Cassius Clay/Muhammad Ali as heavyweight champ (1964-67). Terrell was near the top of the ladder in the heavyweight rankings when the World Boxing Association stripped Clay of the title. After Clay upset Sonny Liston in February of 1964 to win the crown, Clay quickly became persona non grata in the eyes of the WBA administration when he announced his alliance with a Muslim sect that embraced a doctrine which referred to white people as devils, was linked with protests and violence, and was perceived to be a dangerous threat to society. Clay, who had changed his name to Cassius X (prior to officially adopting the name Muhammad Ali), was unceremoniously dumped by the WBA. The official reason given was that Clay agreed to give Liston a rematch. The real reason was obvious; the WBA didn't want anything to do with Clay.

Ascending to the crown

The WBA matched Terrell and another top contender of the day, Eddie Machen, in March of 1965 (two months before the controversial Clay-Liston rematch in Lewiston, Maine). The Terrell-Machen bout took place in Chicago. Machen weighed 192 pounds and brought a 47-5-2 record into the ring with him that night. Machen was a few years past his prime but was still a formidable opponent.

Terrell earned a unanimous decision over the defensive-minded Machen in another one of those bouts that didn't exactly inspire poetry with its beauty. For what it was worth, Terrell had his hand raised after the fight and was now the WBA champion. He also became the first in a long line of so-called "alphabet champions" who would follow in years to come as sanctioning bodies evolved and proliferated like barnacles on a submerged dock post.

Terrell successfully defended his title twice. In November of 1965, a week before Ali put his title on the line against Floyd Patterson, Terrell traveled to Toronto and hammered out an impressive 15-round decision over rugged George Chuvalo. In June of 1966, Terrell engaged the clever Doug Jones in Houston and earned another unanimous 15-round nod. Meanwhile, Ali was beating everyone who beckoned for a title shot. After dispatching of Patterson, Ali repeated Terrell's feat when he earned a decision over Chuvalo in Toronto. Ali then went overseas and posted victories in quick succession over Henry Cooper and Brian London in England, and over southpaw Karl Mildenberger in Germany. Ali returned home and knocked out Cleveland Williams, who was just a shell of his former self, in three rounds in Houston. The stage was set for a unification bout between Ali and Terrell. It would take place in Houston in February of 1967.

Showdown with Ali

What most people remember about the Ali-Terrell fight is Ali continually yelling "What's my name?" as he pummeled Terrell mercilessly. During the prefight promotion, Terrell inadvertently referred to Ali as Clay. When Ali took offense to that, Terrell supposed it was part of the hype. Terrell kept using the name Clay after that, infuriating Ali. Terrell said later that he was playing the name game for publicity purposes only and thought that Ali was doing the same. That wasn't the case, though, as Terrell would find out.

Terrell was the underdog against Ali, but didn't perceive himself that way. He went into the Houston ring believing he would win the undisputed heavyweight championship. Victories over quality fighters like Williams, Folley, Machen and Chuvalo had boosted Terrell's confidence. He expected to befuddle and frustrate Ali, just as he had other slick boxers like Jones and Folley and Machen.

It didn't happen that way, of course. Terrell quickly discovered that Ali was much quicker than the others. Terrell didn't have the means to neutralize Ali's amazing hand speed. Terrell also quickly learned that Ali's anger about being called Clay was very real. From the first round, Ali began taunting Terrell, shouting "What's my name?" over and over again. By the eighth round, the bout was totally one-sided and almost painful to watch. Many observers felt that the referee should have intervened and halted matters some time after the ninth round. The ref didn't, though, and the massacre droned on. Someone said it was like watching a butterfly's wings being pulled off.

This was a rare display of viciousness by Ali, who for all his bluster never desired to inflict unnecessary harm. Perhaps the impending court hearing regarding his military status was preying on Ali's mind. Maybe Ali was venting all the anger he felt inside toward the WBA and its hypocrisy and unjust ways. In punishing Terrell, perhaps Ali was vicariously lashing back at everyone who wouldn't accept him because of his color or his boastfulness or his religious convictions.

Whatever the reasons, Terrell paid a terrible price. In this matter, Terrell's timing as WBA champ was poor indeed. During the entire course of his two-year reign as WBA champ, Terrell was overshadowed by Ali in virtually every way. Terrell was a cautious tactician; Ali was speed and excitement. Terrell was a singer outside the ring; Ali was a poet and prognosticator who continually promoted his efforts inside the ring. Terrell's fights were strategically masterful but aesthetically boring; Ali's fights were public extravaganzas played before packed houses in the U.S. and Europe. Terrell's style was plain vanilla: jab and clutch and jab and clutch some more; Ali's style was colorful and creative: float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.

In the end, when the two finally met, the drama wasn't in the fight but in the words. Terrell had used the name "Clay" and paid a terrible, terrible price for it.

Never the same

Terrell continued to box after losing to Ali, but he never fully recovered. Just six months after the Ali debacle, Terrell was in the ring against Thad Spencer in the first round of the WBA elimination tournament. Terrell probably would have handled Spencer before the Ali fight. In the post-Ali phase of his career, however, Terrell had lost his edge. Spencer beat him handily over 12 rounds.

Terrell promptly lost again to hard-punching Mexican Manuel Ramos two months later. Then he retired to pursue his singing career. Three years later, Terrell launched a comeback. For a while, things went well. He won seven straight, including a surprising knockout of highly touted Jose Luis Garcia in Caracas, Venezuela, in October of 1972. His last victory came on Feb. 19, 1973 in Philadelphia, a 1-round KO of Bill Drover. I was at The Spectrum that night and was quite impressed when Terrell's right hand separated Drover from his senses just two minutes into the fight. The comebacking Terrell packed more of a wallop than the Terrell of bygone days, it seemed. His jab wasn't quite as sharp and neither were his reflexes, but he was still good enough to make some noise in the heavyweight ranks, especially after the win over Garcia.

Terrell was matched with New Jersey journeyman Chuck Wepner in June of 1973 in a 12-round bout for a belt called the National Americas heavyweight title. Terrell looked just as good, or possibly better, in the Wepner fight than he did in beating Garcia and Drover. Using his jab to offset the awkward lunges of the crude, ever-crowding Wepner, Terrell maintained control through the entire 12 rounds. Terrell continually beat Wepner to the punch, winning nine or 10 rounds.

The fight was in Atlantic City, though, and the impartial judges at ringside viewed Wepner's performance through New Jersey eyes. Wepner was apparently rewarded for using his face to hurt Terrell's hands. The decision remains one of the worst travesties in boxing history. Terrell fought once more after that, suffering a first-round knockout at Madison Square Garden to young, promising Jeff Merritt, who had a 21-1 record.

Aftermath

After retiring permanently from the ring, Terrell became a music producer and boxing promoter in Chicago. He lives the good life today with his wife on Chicago's south side. Terrell toured with his singing group, Ernie Terrell and the Heavyweights, for 13 years. They performed at the Fountain Blue in Miami, in Las Vegas and many other mostly small venues. Terrell's sister Jean had music and performing in her blood also. She launched a singing career in the late 1950s and eventually replaced Diana Ross with the Supremes. Terrell, who graduated from Farragut High School in Chicago, cites Joe Louis as his early inspiration. ³I became a boxer because Joe Louis was my influence. He was the only hero I knew,² Terrell told writer Tiffany Young for an article that appears on the internet. ³Every time he fought, the whole world would stop. That had an effect on me.²


Mike Dunn is a boxing historian and writer who lives in Gaylord, Mich.

0 comments
 


Bookmark and Share

 

If you detect any issues with the legality of this site, problems are always unintentional and will be corrected with notification.
The views and opinions of all writers expressed on eastsideboxing.com do not necessarily state or reflect those of the Management.
Copyright © 2001- 2015 East Side Boxing.com - Privacy Policy