Jim Norris, a gregarious, bushy-browed Irishman, was co-owner with Arthur Wirtz of the
Blackhawks and Chicago Stadium, owner of numerous thoroughbreds, and, for more
than a decade, the de facto czar of boxing. As president of the International
Boxing Club (IBC), Norris arranged and promoted 47 of the 51 championship bouts
held in the United States
between 1949 and 1955. He was also creator of “Friday Night Fights,” which was
broadcast live from the Stadium and became one of the most popular television
shows of the fifties.
JAKE LaMOTTA AND SUGAR RAY ROBINSON. |
One of the highlights of Norris’s reign was the sensational middleweight title bout between Sugar Ray Robinson and Jake LaMotta on February 14, 1951, which went down in Chicago boxing lore as “the second St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.”
When
Robinson stepped into the Chicago Stadium ring that night, his record as a professional
was a stupendous 122-1. LaMotta was responsible for the “1”—he had defeated
Sugar Ray in the second of their five meetings in the early 1940s. Now, after six years, their paths crossed again
because Robinson had outgrown the welterweight class, of which he was world
champion, in two ways—it was difficult for him to stay under the 147-pound
weight limit, and it was impossible for him to find worthy challengers.
Both
fighters were 29 years old, but that was all they had in common. Robinson was
tall, lean, lithe, and even elegant; he was now carrying 154 pounds on his
five-foot-11 frame, but his chest was only 36½ inches and his waist 28½.
LaMotta was built like a fireplug; though only five-foot-eight, he sported a 42-inch
chest and 33-inch waist. After strenuously reducing for several weeks, he came
into the fight just half a pound below the middleweight maximum of 160.
The fight
drew a crowd of 14,802 and a national television audience of millions. From the
opening bell, LaMotta forced the issue. The man later portrayed by Robert
DeNiro in Raging Bull stalked
Robinson, battering him with body blows and forcing him to retreat from lefts
to the head. LaMotta dominated for the first eight rounds.
The tide
turned in the ninth. Now LaMotta’s spirit was willing, but not his body. All of
a sudden he was a stationary target for Robinson’s harassing jabs and punishing
shots to the midsection throughout the ninth and 10th rounds. LaMotta flashed
back to life in the 11th, briefly backing Robinson into a corner and flailing
at him with both hands. When Sugar Ray broke free, he took command for good. “I
came out fast and got going after that,” he said.
“LaMotta was
finished,” Wilfrid Smith wrote in the Tribune, “but he would not quit. Throughout the 12th
round Robinson hit the fading champion with either hand. He jabbed and hooked
and all that saved LaMotta was an ingrained desire to walk toward the man who
dealt him punishment.” LaMotta did not land a meaningful punch in the 12th, but
he absorbed plenty. Late in the round, Robinson was hammering him so savagely
that George Gainford, Robinson’s manager, yelled, “Stop the fight! Stop
the fight!” Referee Frank Sikora, however, did not act.
LaMotta had
never been knocked down in his career, and against Robinson he retained this
distinction by sheer stubbornness. By the 13th round he was virtually
defenseless. For two minutes Sikora glanced nervously at the Illinois boxing commissioners sitting
ringside, as if looking for advice, while Robinson continued to pound LaMotta.
Jake was bleeding from the mouth and from the left eye when he staggered back
against the ropes with his arms at his sides. Finally, Sikora moved in and
stopped the contest.
Robinson was awarded a technical knockout.
It was later suggested that LaMotta’s reputation for occasional brutality in
the ring had led Sikora and the other officials, perhaps unconsciously, to
allow him a taste of his own medicine before calling a halt to the carnage.
“You never got me down, Ray,” LaMotta said as the two fighters bumped gloves. (This was memorably re-enacted by DeNiro in Raging Bull.) “You never got me down.”
Back in the locker room, LaMotta admitted that this had been the
toughest of his six fights with Sugar Ray. “I just ran out of gas,” he said. He
had lost 17 pounds in the past few weeks, including four pounds the day before
the bout. The drastic weight loss had sapped his strength, and no fighter could
hope to beat Sugar Ray Robinson at less than a hundred percent.
It took more
than two hours for the exhausted LaMotta to summon the energy to get dressed
and leave the Stadium. Robinson spent a portion of that time soaking his left
hand in a bucket of ice. “No bones broken,” Dr. Vincent Nardiello assured reporters.
“He just hit Jake so hard and so often with it that it’s thoroughly
bruised.”
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