Martial Arts in Sherlock Holmes Canon & Premium Tobacco Pairings Vol. 3 Boxing
::: BOXING IN SHERLOCKIAN CANON :::
It is for me, in pugilism proper enough, where it hits home Sherlock Holmes is no wall-to-wall cozy. No fully armchair detective. Sure, I have been made to understand that in recent Sherlock movies starring Iron Man, there is much focus on fisticuffs--but I won't ever see those. So as always here in this series within a series, we stick to canon to show us the way. Off then we go upon our path and sans "metallic argument" [COPP] and bearing in mind that Watson noted Holmes as: "an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman.” [STUD] Speaking of Doc, "Watson, have no compunction about shooting them down." [REDH]
I feel as though I should at least partially digress.
"I don’t know none o’ your friends.” “Oh, yes, you do, McMurdo,” cried Sherlock Holmes, genially. “I don’t think you can have forgotten me. Don’t you remember the amateur who fought three rounds with you at Alison’s rooms on the night of your benefit four years back?” “Not Mr. Sherlock Holmes!” roared the prize-fighter. “God’s truth! how could I have mistook you? If instead o’ standin’ there so quiet you had just stepped up and given me that cross-hit of yours under the jaw, I’d ha’ known you without a question." The Sign of the Four [SIGN]
There, we see a victorious Holmes--but it doesn't always shake-out in exactly that way. In The Adventure of the Empty House [EMPT] Holmes scrubs through the letter M of his chronicled character collection mentioning "and Mathews, who knocked out my left canine in the waiting-room at Charing Cross." Whilst not mentioned as boxing per se or even as an empty-handed wallop, my headcanon tells me it was a right cross that done it. But, of course, not in a ring. Speaking of ring--Ring Lardner couldn't have done it much better than the next and (probably not) final entrant...
In one of my favorite canon scenes from The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist [SOLI] Holmes trounces Mr. Woodley: "...when who should walk in but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking his beer in the tap-room and had heard the whole conversation. Who was I? What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a string of abuse by a vicious backhander, which I failed to entirely avoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight left against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me. Mr. Woodley went home in a cart."
Man, I love this stuff. If I might step away from both canon and the written word for a short paragraph, this is why Rathbone is my movie reel Holmes, not Brett. Jeremy Brett does not capture what I feel to be this important Holmesian aspect any more than would Tony Randall as Felix Unger (to whom I often draw comparisons). So much so, that I overlook Basil's time-hopping into hard-boiled. Mostly.
::: ON THE SPORT OF BOXING :::
It is hard to envision two ancient men vying for an ancient woman and settling upon a foot-race to decide who goes home (cave) together. This is hard to envision because it most likely never happened. The two males would engage in a round of Jeopardy!, of course. Come to think of it--they'd probably just hit each other in their heads with their fists until one quit and/or realized that her thighs were a bit too chunky anyways. What I'm saying is that proto-pugilism finds its roots in the ::: very ::: roots of personkind.
From antiquity's swatches of leather (at times adorned with spikes) to today's poofy red gloves and many points in-between--boxing--throughout its development is the truest contest held between humans. Sure, one might posit lay-and-pray MMA, but nope. Boxing is the bloodsport par excellence and old as time. And also for almost as long, crooked as a banana... it adds to the charm and takes minimally from the in-the-moment spectatorship of the spectacle. Fat guys who sit behind desks all day can still throw shade on "bums" who quit on the stool in round 9. What a great sport. I used to write about it, you know.
We need Fury vs. Usyk now. The worst of boxing is seen in bullshit mandatory defenses decreed by alphabet soup entities and also in immediate rematch clauses. As goes the Heavyweight Division, so goes the sport of boxing. See? I still got it!
::: BOXING AND PREMIUM TOBACCO PAIRINGS :::
As to pairing the sweet science with cigars, think spicy but not too terribly strong--one must be titillated but not tipsy. Corojo is close but might lull a person onto their heels. Habano is the obvious ball-of-foot choice then. Say Ecuadorian Habano in terms of the wrapper and Nicaraguan in terms of guts but not fully; with some Dominican cut in. Might I recommend a Toro format, in case the bout goes as long as championship rounds? Yes, I definitely will. As for pipe tobacco, let's look no further than the Marquess of Queensberry Rules, drafted in 1865 London and published two years later. An English Blend, then. A hearty one. heavy on the Latakia.
::: BONUS MATERIAL :::
(Two more bits of mainly just the facts, ma'am bonus as a reward for my Sherlockian readership who have braved both sports talk and cigar chat.)
In The Gloria Scott, we find Holmes reminiscing to Watson on his own university days "Bar fencing and boxing I had few athletic tastes, and then my line of study was quite distinct from that of the other fellows, so that we had no points of contact at all." [GLOR]
Also and finally at long last, this from Mr. Sholto in The Sign of the Four “We did know, however, that some mystery--some positive danger--overhung our father. He was very fearful of going out alone, and he always employed two prize-fighters to act as porters at Pondicherry Lodge. Williams, who drove you to-night, was one of them. He was once light-weight champion of England." [SIGN]
In closing, if I dare to say that after beginning the previous paragraph's opening sentence including the word 'finally.' & not even to mention I believe I alluded to the same sort of thing even earlier--Holmes can be seen as the complete detective. In him are both Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. This leaves the action-freak Watson loose to be both icing on the combative cake and narrator beyond compare.
::: COMPANION READING :::
::: REFERENCE MATERIALS :::
I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere (Trifles)
McMurdo's Camp
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