*1938*
The year in which Benny Goodman released his Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert album. June 21st thereof, in the second fight of their famous rivalry, Joe Louis retains the world Heavyweight title with a first round knockout of former world champion Max Schmeling.Louis/Schmeling I ended, as I hope ya know, in a twelfth-round knock-out victory for Mr. Max Schmeling. Langston Hughes scribed re: the outcome: "I walked down Seventh Avenue and saw grown men weeping like children, and women sitting in the curbs with their head in their hands. All across the country that night when the news came that Joe was knocked out, people cried."
Hitler too, weighed in, via contacting Schmeling's wife, sending flowers and the message: "For the wonderful victory of your husband, our greatest German boxer, I must congratulate you with all my heart." In this, the duo's rematch, again set in a sold-and-bursting-out Yankee Stadium with a garnered gate of a million plus bucks -- Democracy and Fascism did again give it a go.
Mr. Schmeling began where he stylistically left off, upright and flicking jabs. Previous to their first bout, he had let it be known he'd saw how to beat Mr. Louis. This, was that, all over again. Except prior to fisticuffs, the New York Athletic commission had ruled to bar Joe Jacobs, Schmeling's manager, from ring-side. Too, Doc Casey had backed out of working with him. Due to a public relations infraction and fear of bad publicity, respectively. Max Schmeling paced nervously for hours before the fight. Transversely, the Brown Bomber napped some two hours prior to pugilism.
Also as in their first meeting, Arthur Donovan was the third man in the ring. The legendary ref wasted no time in stepping in to halt the action -- just over 90 seconds, precisely -- after Louis landed a body-shot which had Max a-howlin'. Meeting back at center-ring, Schmeling was met by a right cross to the mug which put him down for a three-count. The bombing continued, then in an even more severe head-hunting fashion. After three clean and unanswered shots to the beard, the German was tuchus'd again, this time for the count of two.
Seconds later, Schmeling was downed yet again in. Center-ring this time. His towel was thrown in. Mr. Max Schmeling would spend the next ten days hospitalized and suffering from several cracked vertebrae at the on-slaught of Mr. Joe Louis. Louis was turned away from his hospital visit, as Schmeling and his camp cried foul over an illegal kidney punch they feel began the post-haste dismantling. No formal complaints were complained.
A great line was penned here by on Mr. Jack Guenther of the United Press re: Mr. Baer's last bout, "Buddy Baer came in at 250 and went out at 2:56." That's funnier to talk than to write.
*1942*
Bing Crosby's White Christmas was numero uno on los chartos amigos, and some-one's lazy neighbor somewheres probably still had their Christmas lights blaring on January 9th – the day of this rematch of a controversial 1941 bout. This time, Joe Louis retains his world Heavyweight title in this his twentieth defense thereof with a first round knockout of Buddy Baer, in Madison Square Garden. The fight was held as a benefit for the New York Auxiliary of the Naval Relief Society."On Christmas Eve 1941, Baer was involved in a car accident. Baer and his trainer, Issy Kline, were riding in a car driven by Jerry Casale, a training camp assistant, when it collided with another car, which was driven by a Wilma H. Wilkins. The following day, United Press reported: "Heavyweight challenger Buddy Baer of California suffered face scratches and bruises. . . . Physicians said his injuries were so slight they would not interfere with the Louis bout." "After Baer was knocked out by Louis in their rematch, he sued Wilkins and her husband for $150,000 in damages. Kline, Casale and Griefenhein also filed suit against the couple. Baer's attorney, Howard A. Lawn, said the suit was delayed until after the fight rather than jeopardize attendance. The Associated Press reported on January 23, 1942: "The bill of complaint . . . said the heavyweight had suffered torn muscles and tendons in the right shoulder area. These made normal use of the right arm impossible and caused its numbness whenever Baer received an ordinary punch on the head."Mr. Joe Louis' trainer, Mr. Jack Blackburn had told the champ that his arthritis and weak heart had him thinking he wasn't strong enough to make it up and down the ring-steps for fifteen rounds. To which the Brown Bomber replied, "If you get up those stairs with me, I'll have Baer out before you can relax."
-BoxRec
A great line was penned here by on Mr. Jack Guenther of the United Press re: Mr. Baer's last bout, "Buddy Baer came in at 250 and went out at 2:56." That's funnier to talk than to write.
Ya know what? I did a round-by-round write-up of this bout elsewheres, replete with a Gurkha Crest review, free of charge...
1.Feeling out, verily. Rocky and Mongoose. Two well apt names even within a seeming lull. Gurkha gives me notes of aromatic tobacco in a brown paper bag. I get some nuances being hid by red spices with a musky under-belly. Burn is a ribbon off a Djeep outdoors lighting. Pouring off foot smoke and into my smoke-hole smoke. Rock pawed some lefts, Moore a decent right.
2. Rock gets it on the button with a shortish right off a left feint and is down for a four-count. Tying up, lotsa in-fighting. Marciano bleeds from a busted nose and still noodle-legged at the round's end. He ends it with a half-hearted flurry. HERE is an interesting LA Times article about this round from Moore's perspective. Sweet chewy flirtation is on now. Creamy but not a pillowy sort. A firm mattress. Mulling spice spilt all over the sheets. Very leather, yes? Yes. Kinky. Leather has a sharp dustiness to it. Marciano's poker face is lacking. Eyes are a' poppin'.
3. Spices come back a bit and a roasted pepper hits the retro-hale. Moore is really out-thinking Marciano on the inside, particularly and most notably. Cut reopens over Rocky's left peeper. Marciano scores a hard right -- maybe his first true zetz of the evening. Rocky Marciano is in the fight gentlepersons; lands solid left at the bell. I taste honey... thin and fragrant. Foot-smoke is amazingly prolific. What's the announcer say? Something like Moore is a trickster but 15 rounds is a long time. Eerily ominous, that. Pace of Gurkha is blazing.
4. Moore gets the ring cut off on him, squeaks out, eats a right. Gets in a situation on the ropes. Archie rocks Rock now. Moore comes away with the brunt of the oy gevalt. Moore's hands are lower now, gets his chin out there and Rocky finds it. Archie's dazed, for sure -- but makes Marciano miss a lot more than he lands. At the bell, both men appear fatigued. Moore lands a half-strength short throat-punch from under-neath post bell and Rocky has the most unreadable or perhaps potentially misjudgeable smile as he heads a bit queerly to his corner. Gurkha is medium+ profiled and nada as to strength. Honey lends orange rind from mulling spices and rejuvenates it to its own orange blossom end. Finish is a sharp aromatic tobacco with red spice ghostings. Re-touch attempt is a near inferno inducing thing.
5. Marciano looks punched out on the stool. Not to be out-done, Moore's hair is an unholy mess. The Mongoose is just so hard to hit. Marciano has such a so simplistic way of hitting. I'm almost frustrated just watching. I do wish Moore would keep his hands higher -- for appearance sake, at least. More blood from Marciano's nose. Lull of a round, but one controlled by Archie Moore. Mulling spice drops hard off the table like a Super Jew curve-ball and the primary is vacated. Oak shaving in. Char notes in. Slight chemical vibe on the finish. Leather thickens in work-boot fashion. Burn attempts to even on its own. Slight caramelized sugar in remaining red spice section of mullings.
6. Moore don't worry much about getting in a corner, because he don't worry much about getting outta said corner. Seems to be more upper body movement on the part of Rocky. He gets lower, too. And then suddenly, a right hand fells Moore off not much more of a set-up than I made mention of already. Officially, it was scored a four-count. Moore goes straight to the ropes and Marciano throws leather by the ton, digging in down and up-top on Moore. Lotsa pennies in the jar body work with lotsa fight to go. Marciano does a solid minute of brutalizing with a lead right, including another knock-down to the count of eight at the 10-second mark. Moore's got his left but it ain't a lot. Marciano eats that left as soon as he lets up on those exaggerated bobs and weaves. Moore gets back to his corner and looks shellacked and shell-shocked. Red fruit brings chewiness back in this time far more sweetly -- lip-smackingly so. Charring note is a sorta balance. the black crumbs on a slice of jelly toast. Burn is nice. Ash nice, too.
7. Marciano spends much of this fight seemingly half-gassed. This round, 3/4 so. Moore scores a couple rights and looks amazingly fresh as a daisy, when you'd expect far more of a black-eyed Susan. Marciano is back to too straight up & down of a posture. Gotta be his bad back, methinks. Last minute of seventh looks a lot like last minute of sixth -- except: no damage. Moore won the round but at its end, had virtually no legs under hisself. Gurkha: fruity work boots, please insert yer Village People construction worker joke here. I roll off an inch+ of ash. Smoky note. Construction is far superior to the previous Crest I did that write-up of. Burn re-wobbles.
8. Moore's right eye closes up, or darn nigh. Marciano takes the lead. The ol' Mongoose is having trouble getting loose of the ropes -- and it's not due at all entirely to Marciano. Whenever Rock takes the lead, as he does now, the bout has the motion of occurring in the ocean. Slowish rights and lefts swung wide, feet dug in, bobs weaves feints slow as them punches... it sounds harmless, but in watching it -- it's menacing as heck... amazingly powerful. Nonetheless, the round is fought at a near odd half-speed. Moore circles left off the ropes, settles at another set of ropes, but his tired frame allows momentum to rock him further left still, toward and into a Marciano good right. He's saved by the bell but looks as spent as 88 cents at yer local Walmart. Chocolate malt note comes in where the previous offering's dry cocoa failed. Smoke continues to pour and now thickens whiter. For all the smoky-smoke -- not a lot of room note... an aromatic and leathery tobacco. "I think the end is close..." Spooks the announcer yet again. Pace of Gurkha slows.
9. Why the fight ain't stopped on the stool is beyond me, gentlepersons. Moore still gets a nice zetz in, straight pawing through the widely thrown barrage. A right hand snaps Marciano's head back, and is returned with a left which downs Moore for the somewhat anti-climactic ten-count. 1:19 of the given round. Sharper and drier on the palate tongue cheeks. Not the most pleasant of mouths. I take a swish of seltzer. A sip of seltzer. Another. Ash is quite white and silver in spots. Flaky but not loose sheath.
Remember that round-four Marciano grin. It's there again with a greater grimace influence at fight's end when the ring announcer, dropping his Kreskin leanings, states his certainty at Rocky going for 50-0 and never looking better. This was Marciano's last fight. He retired with a record of 49-0, with 43 KOs. The Mongoose Archie Moore seemed ill-impressed at the in-ring post-pugilism addressing.
THE CIGAR
La Gloria Cubana
Glorias Extra Natural
6 1/4 x 46 Robusto
w. Ecuadorian Sumatra
b. Nicaraguan
f. Dominican & Nicaraguan
K A P L O W I T Z SCALE
K least, Z most
Construction ICombustion W
Flavors W
Body I
Strength L
+
Sweet L
Sour P
Salty P
Bitter O
Savory I
+
Complexity I
Nuance O
Transition W
Texture W
+
Animal W
Sweet L
Spicy O
Woody I
Vegetal O
Earthy L
Chemically n/a
Sweet L
Spicy O
Woody I
Vegetal O
Earthy L
Chemically n/a
SMOKE TIME
70mins
FINAL GRADE
****A-****
EDITOR'S NOTE
Get yer own Glorias Extra at Cigars City NOW. You tell 'em Kap sent ya; I'll take this opportunity to thank them for this kind sampling.