BY THE NUMBERS: Jack Britton by Don Stradley • Illustration by KronkAAArt Few fighters were as smooth as Jack Britton (1885-1962). Born William J. Breslin in Clinton, New York, his quick hands and deft footwork led reporters to call him “The Boxing Marvel.” Here’s his story by the numbers.
his opponent would lay off it. This always resulted in his rival spending an inordinate amount of time focusing on the ear, trying to hit it. Britton, slicker than ice, would easily shift away and counter. Besides, the joke was on the opponent, because the ear was dead. Britton called it his “tin ear,” or his “cushion,” and claimed he could take punches on it all day and not feel them. • “A big bruiser smashed that ear for me at a gym when I was just a kid learning the ropes,” Britton said in 1941, “and when I got home and saw that puffed mass, I nearly died of fright.” Upset by the swollen ear, he vowed that no opponent would ever hit him flush again. “Learning to protect that ear made me clever, and pretty soon no one was hitting me anywhere.”
notorious manager » Dumb Dan Morgan, one of boxing’s most remarkable characters, managed Britton for most of his career. Though Morgan managed other fighters, he was especially fond of Britton. The two remained close even after Britton retired. Unfortunately, Morgan’s sneaky work behind the scenes – and his nonstop mouth – sometimes overshadowed Britton’s talents. Britton didn’t care. He and Morgan were tremendous together, as successful a pairing as has ever been seen in the business. Dumb Dan claimed to know a bit about everything, including the best way to develop a fighter’s chin. It involved chewing on tough chuck steak instead of much softer sirloin cuts. There must have been a lot of chuck steaks on Britton’s table, since he was KO’d only once in more than 340 bouts. If money was too scarce to buy chuck steak, Morgan proposed a cheap alternative to hardening a fighter’s jaw: dog biscuits. years old at the time he retired » After 25 years in the business, Britton retired in 1930 at 44. Some states in those days had a mandatory retirement age of 38, so Britton was considered one of the ring’s truly ancient performers. He credited his style for helping him last so long. Just before his final bout, he said, “I always depend on speed and cleverness, and seldom tried for a KO. Maybe that’s why I have fought all the best boys in the country.” In retirement, Britton mentored his son Bobby, an acclaimed amateur boxer who compiled a pro record of 48-56-10, with 19 knockouts.
Cauliflower ear » Britton’s left ear was so misshapen that he used it to distract opponents. He did this by leading with his head slightly cocked. The ghastly appendage would lull his rival into something like hypnosis. When Britton saw that his opponent’s eyes were preoccupied with his ear, he’d pop the guy. Britton knew it was hard to not stare at his damaged ear. Referee Billy Roche described it as “one of the most elaborate cauliflower ears I ever saw.” • Another way Britton used the ear was to spread rumors before a bout that it pained him, and that he hoped
fights* » This is believed to be the most professional fights of any champion, accomplished by way of 1,473 rounds. Not counting his no-decision bouts, Britton’s record is now given on BoxRec. com as 104-30-20, with 30 knockouts and five no-contests.
bouts with Ted “Kid” Lewis » There are rivalries, and then there are rivalries. And then there was the rivalry between Britton and Lewis. As one sportswriter put it, these two met “as often as corned beef and cabbage.” When they fought for the second time in 1915, Lewis won on points and was declared the official welterweight titleholder. Britton took the title from Lewis in 1916, only to lose it back to him in 1917. Britton reclaimed the laurels on St. Patrick’s Day 1919, this time by a knockout in the ninth. This may have been Britton’s finest hour. “Lewis did not land five clean blows,” reported The New York Times as a testament to Britton’s defensive skill. • Legend has it that Lewis and Britton disliked each other and never shook hands before or after their many contests. In their final bout in 1921, Britton even took a swing at one of Lewis’ cornermen, objecting to Lewis wearing a new invention: a rubber mouthguard. Still, some journalists felt the animosity was a ruse, and that the extended series was little more than a traveling roadshow.
no-decision bouts » For those not born during the Benjamin Harrison presidency, some explanation of no-decision bouts might be due. In Britton’s time, professional boxing was outlawed in many states. Laws were passed in certain areas permitting athletic clubs to host boxing, but unless there was a knockout, there’d be no decision rendered. The law was designed to curb gambling, but it was silly; it allowed talented fighters such as Britton to simply dance around an opponent for six or 10 rounds. He risked nothing but collected a payday. Worse, writers on press row sometimes accepted bribes to say a certain fighter won. (A ruthless manager might also race to the nearest telegraph wire, informing news desks that their fighter had dominated, whether he had or not.) Though many of these no-decision or “newspaper” contests were competitive, just as many were glorified exhibitions. Still, customers were happy to buy a ticket to see fighters they’d only read about. To witness the Boxing Marvel in person, even in a no-decision event, was something special.
turns as welterweight champion »
in his 1961 autobiography. The old ring master was down four times but managed to hang on until the final bell. “I felt sorry for him,” Walker added. “He was standing there, with tears in his eyes, as I left the ring with his title.” Ring announcer Joe Humphries roused the Madison Square Garden crowd to stand up and pay tribute to Britton, which resulted in what the New York Daily News called “probably the greatest ovation that ever was accorded a fallen champion.”
Britton was the first three-time champion at welterweight. His third reign was probably the most impressive, as he was getting older but still fending off such opponents as Pinky Mitchell, Dave Shade, Jock Malone and Frankie Maguire. Britton was 37 when he lost the title to 21-year-old Mickey Walker on points in November 1922. “He was one of the shrewdest ring generals the game ever saw,” Walker wrote
sketchy bout with Benny Leonard » In a 1922 money grab, welterweight boss Britton defended his title against longtime lightweight champion Leonard. Britton had the bout won when Leonard dropped him with a body shot in the 13th round. Inexplicably, Leonard then rushed forward and
struck Britton while he was down. This drew Leonard an immediate disqualification and left the crowd at New York’s Velodrome puzzled. Though both fighters were greatly admired, many suspected the bout was a fraud. For what it is worth, one of Leonard’s trainers claimed years later that the fix was in from the start. Who knows?
*The number varies a bit depending on the source.
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