by A B Facey
The man running the show knew Mr Strong, and after an excited greeting and warm handshake, he asked him to referee the fights and he agreed.
The people filled the marquee – at a guess I would say there were over three hundred. When announcing the names of the boxers, the Manager told the crowd that Bill Strong had agreed to referee the fights. A local boy, Patsy Armstrong, won the first fight on points. In the second match (middle-weight), the local lad was knocked out in the second round. The heavy-weight match went on for the full four rounds and the Negro won on points.
Jock and I waited for Bill Strong and when he joined us we went and had a cup of tea and a sandwich. He told us while we were having our tea, that the Negro was a push over for anyone who could box. He said, ‘Why don’t you take him on Bert? You would beat him easy with that straight left of yours.’ I said, ‘No, not me. He’s too big for me. He didn’t look too good but he may be kidding because that bloke he beat didn’t know anything about boxing.’ ‘That is it,’ Bill said. ‘The Negro should have put him down in one or two rounds, but he was puffing and blowing and so badly out of condition I didn’t think he would last the four rounds. The other chap didn’t have any idea of how to protect himself. I feel sure that the Negro has been drinking a lot of beer. There’s an easy fiver for you there Bert, what about it?’ Jock joined in and also wanted me to have a go. I didn’t like the idea as that Negro (they called him Darkey Brown) was about fifteen stone and I was under twelve stone.
When we finished our tea we walked around the show ground and another big crowd had gathered in front of the marquee. They were having a job to get challengers. Then the Manager called out, ‘I will give anyone two pounds for each round that he can stand on his feet against Darkey.’
This was too much for Jock – he called out, ‘Righto, here’s your man.’ He pushed me forward and a roar went up from the crowd. I felt awful, I could have flattened Jock. This was just what I didn’t want but it was done – I either had to show cowardice or take a belting. I had to get up on the platform and stand alongside of this big dark man – I must have looked small next to him.
The Manager (whose name I found out was Mick Flynn) got onto the stage and again announced the terms of the contest. He said, ‘Five rounds of two minutes, and I will pay him two pounds for every round he stays on his feet, and I will give him ten pounds if he can defeat Darkey within five rounds.’ This extra round troubled me – why an extra round? Mr Flynn said that this would be a special contest and it would only cost the people two shillings and sixpence to see it. I didn’t like it one little bit but there was no getting out of it, as the marquee was filled in a few minutes.
Bill Strong was asked to referee the fight but he refused, saying he had worked with me and it wouldn’t be fair to Darkey. So Mick Flynn announced that he would be referee and he asked me my name: I said, ‘Just call me Punch.’ (That’s what I was called as a kid and what the men on the gang called me after the fight with the Ganger.) He also asked me my weight and looked surprised when I said, ‘Eleven stone ten pounds.’ I didn’t feel very pleased with the groan from the crowd, as Darkey’s weight was fifteen stone four pounds. He looked a perfect type for a boxer and wasn’t I scared.
Bill Strong came into my corner as they were putting the boxing gloves on me. I had taken my coat and shirt off and also my boots. I preferred to box in my bare feet because my only chance was to be able to move around fast. Bill told me to keep moving away from Darkey and to keep pushing my straight left into his face as he came in. If I could I was to try and land it into his stomach just above the belt. He said he felt sure I could beat him. Now all was set. The time-keeper asked the referee if all was ready. The gong sounded and the fight was on.
Darkey came out of his corner and charged at me, swinging punches in all directions. I dodged and ducked and never had time to think about trying to hit him. I was all over the ring and I felt sure that Darkey would try and end the fight in the first round. He would have done just that if one of his terrible-looking swings had landed. We seemed to be fighting a long two minutes before the gong went to end the first round.
As I sat in my corner Bill Strong said, ‘You’re doing fine. Just keep it up.’ ‘But I haven’t hit him yet,’ I said. He said, ‘No, but the most important thing is he hasn’t hit you yet either.’ The gong went to start the second round.
This time Darkey didn’t charge at me. He came out very steadily but still looking menacing. I moved away as he tried to land a punch on me. This happened several times, then I noticed he wasn’t trying to protect himself – his face or stomach – he seemed bent on landing a punch that would end the fight. I was careful and kept moving sideways or back. Near the end of this round, as Darkey came in after me, I suddenly ducked under a right swing and put everything I had into a left, straight into his stomach. He stopped and doubled up as the gong went.
Bill and Jock were delighted as it was the first punch I had used during the two rounds. The crowd gave me a cheer. I don’t know if it was meant as sarcasm or praise but it gave me courage at the commencement of the third round. Darkey was a changed man – he didn’t want to mix it with me. He kept in a crouching position with one glove protecting his stomach, so I knew that punch must have hurt him. I started to drive straight lefts to his face, hitting him on the mouth and nose. His nose started to bleed freely and his head went back with a jerk each time my left landed. This sent the crowd wild. There was no doubt now that they were all on my side. This third round was my best. I must have hit Darkey with a dozen good straight lefts. When I went to my corner Bill said, ‘Keep it up. You’ve got him.’
About halfway through the fourth round I almost met with disaster. I was intent on landing another stomach punch that I felt sure would end the fight, when a long right hook from Darkey landed flush on my chin and I fell on my side to the floor. I could hear the referee counting four, five, and by the count of seven, I was on my feet again. Darkey came after me and he looked twice as big as usual. He threw punches at me from all directions but I had recovered enough to keep moving away and sideways. Then the tide turned in my favour. Darkey rushed me and I met him with another perfect straight left to the stomach. This doubled him up – in fact, he fell with his gloved hands resting on the floor. At the count of four the gong went.
I went to my corner and Bill said, ‘What’s up with Darkey?’ He hadn’t reached his corner and was bent over vomiting onto the ring floor. The referee went over and spoke to him for awhile, then made an announcement declaring me the winner as Darkey was not able to continue. Bill, Jock and most of the crowd went wild.
I got dressed and went to see how Darkey was. He said he was much better but very sore in the stomach. Mr Flynn paid me the ten pounds and asked me if I would like to travel with his show. He said that the show would only last about one more month, and he would like me to be with them. He offered me two pounds a week with all expenses paid, and said, ‘If you like, you can book on with me for next spring.’ He intended to take a troupe through the eastern states commencing in South Australia in July. He said that if I wanted experience, here was my chance.
So I booked with the show known as ‘Mickey Flynn’s Boxing Troupe’. We showed at Katanning, Albany, Bunbury and finished in Northam in the third week of November. Darkey left us at Albany. This was hard work but exciting, and I had some wonderful experiences. I had eleven fights during this short period and I won every one of them. Then the troupe broke up until the next spring so I went home to see my stepfather and the others.
47
MARKING TIME
I got a job as a linesman with a surveying firm, Goyder and Davis, surveying land throughout the outer wheat-belt of West Australia. The Head Office was on a farm at Corrigin. There were seven men in the gang and I was employed to do axe-work, cutting a line through the bush and scrub for the chainmen and for the theodolite.
It was a good-paying job – three pounds a week plus food. We worked six eight-hour days and
had Sundays off. A cook was employed and we made camp at convenient places and travelled to work in a buggy drawn by two beautiful horses.
We travelled into many districts surveying land for the new settlers. This was a lonely, quiet job but I liked it and the work was much easier than wheat-lumping. We were given a fortnight’s holiday for Christmas so I went home and had Christmas at my stepfather’s place. After the holidays we all came back to the surveying job. I loved the bush and stayed on with the job until April 1914. We were all put off then as Mr Goyder became ill and had to stop work for several weeks. I returned to Perth.
My stepfather, who was a life member of the Subiaco Football Club, took me to their training ground and introduced me to their captain, secretary and several of the players. He said, ‘This is my boy.’
They all welcomed me and invited me to join in the training. At that moment they were practising marking and kicking for goals. Several were guarding the goal-posts while others were trying to kick the ball through from some forty-five to fifty yards distance. They were using drop-kicks and punt-kicks. I was able to do both of these kicks fairly well and I did well at marking (or catching) the ball.
I was now six feet tall and weighed just over thirteen stone. I must have pleased the captain because he invited me to come and train with them again on Thursday evening. I did this and did much better and so I was then invited to try my hand playing in the team. My stepfather said it was most unusual to be put in the team after only two practices.
So I played League Football. The first few games I wasn’t very good. I was on the receiving end of many spills and bumps, but I got used to the tricks of the game – and believe me, there were many – and they were not all in the rule book. I started to give as much as I got and sometimes a little more, and was respected. I liked the game very much. I played football until June when I had to leave to rejoin the boxing troupe.
I had kept up skipping and ball-punching and had done a bit of boxing. I used to have a few rounds with any boxer that was training for a match when I happened to be at home. At times I sparred with Alf Morey, Dick Cullen, Mick King and many others from time to time. I loved boxing and was always ready to have a few rounds. Even when at work in the bush, I always had boxing gloves, a punching-ball and a skipping-rope with me. Several of the chaps I worked with used to have a spar with me but I always promised not to hit them too hard. I wanted to practise, so with my workmates I always went easy, but even sparring lightly kept me very fit.
I was looking forward to starting again with the troupe and was thrilled at the chance. I was sorry to have to leave football but boxing had more appeal for me.
48
MICKEY FLYNN’S BOXING TROUPE
We sailed from Fremantle in the last week of June on the Orontes (one of the Orient Line ships) for Port Adelaide. In the troupe there were two heavy-weights and two middle-weights, as well as a light- and a feather-weight boxer. We had all been schooled by Mr Burns and had known each other as boys – in fact, all except me had been recommended by Mr Burns for the trip. The sea was very rough and I became too seasick to train on the trip.
We arrived at Port Adelaide and got a shock when we found out what was expected of us. We found that there was more hard work involved than boxing. Travelling with the troupe was very tiring – we didn’t get enough sleep. In fact the only time we got a real rest was when we were travelling by train from place to place. We were busy most of the time; loading our materials and luggage on horse-drawn lorries to be taken to the place where we would then erect our marquee for the show (mostly this was on a show ground or sports oval or public reserve) and put in the seating. We would reverse the procedure when the show was over. We also had to take our place as a boxer or a challenger at all the towns and places where we showed. Some of us had to mix with the crowd and appear as strangers to the troupe – if there weren’t any challengers coming forward, then one of us in the crowd would accept a challenge, using another name. We only took up the challenge to fight our mates of our own weight. This was done as a last resort to get the show started.
It was amazing how the public responded to this. It also gave the local boys the idea that they could hold their own with us because when we fought each other, we always fought for a draw. Our boss offered good money to anyone who could defeat any one of us over four to six rounds.
The charge for seeing a fight was two shillings for adults and one shilling for boys. In large towns we would stage four to six fights each day, and sometimes we would stay a whole week in one town. This was according to the size of the crowds we received. Two to four hundred paying patrons was considered very profitable. We were all paid two pounds a week plus our living and travelling expenses.
We showed at Adelaide and several towns in South Australia; then travelled into Victoria and showed at Ballarat, Maryborough, Castlemaine, Bendigo and Melbourne; then at Sydney and Newcastle in New South Wales.
Despite the hard work, my trip with the troupe was a wonderful experience. I had some twenty-nine fights and was lucky enough to win them all. I had what was called a perfect left straight and most of my opponents were inexperienced and not very fit, and were easy targets. Most of them weren’t able to go more than two or three rounds.
Two heavy-weights I fought had a lot of experience – there was one in Melbourne called Merchant. But he couldn’t keep out of the way of my left. He was a hard puncher and his left and right hooks had plenty of sting in them, but I had a long reach and could keep him away. Each time he tried to get in close my left stopped him, and the way he moved in made the punch more damaging. His face was badly swollen and one eye was closed so that at the fourth round of our six round bout, he retired.
The other boxer that gave me a tough bout I met in Newcastle – this fight was over six rounds also. He gave his name as Morgan and was the best opponent I met on tour. He was six feet three inches tall, about thirteen stone in weight and had been sparring with champions such as Bill Lang, Dave Smith and Jerry Jerome. He was a lively boxer and I feel sure he hit me with every punch in the book. I had to cover up, duck and dodge all around the ring. Twice in the first and second rounds he hit me so hard that my legs felt like jelly – I felt I had met my Waterloo – but I managed to stay on my feet. When we came out for the third round he must have thought he had me because he rushed straight at me and didn’t protect himself. He must have been carried away by the crowd. I put everything I had into a straight left and it landed flush on his chin. He stopped, his head jerked back with the impact and his hands dropped leaving his face unprotected. I drove a right hook to his chin and he took a nose dive to the floor and was counted out. For a few seconds I didn’t realise that it was over and I had won. I felt that I had got the worst of it and was very lucky to win.
In August we received the news that Britain was at war with Germany and there was talk that Australia was sending a force of twenty thousand troops. Everybody was talking about the war and Germany’s invasion of Belgium. I was now nearly twenty years old.
Mr Flynn asked us all if we intended enlisting and we asked him what he thought about the war. He considered for a few minutes, then told us to please ourselves. He continued by saying, ‘Some of you could be ruined for life by going to a war. It is not a picnic. I went through the South African war so I know. Don’t any of you go taking any notice of the Government’s promises. They will tell you anything to get you in but when you “do your bit” as they call it, you will soon be forgotten and so will the promises – don’t you forget that. Now you must do as you think right. If some of you leave the troupe I will have to stop the tour, so think over what you wish to do and let me know as soon as you can. We have been a very happy troupe and a very successful one. I must say we have done very well – the best and most profitable troupe I have ever had and some of you have a great future in boxing if you take it on professionally.’
The rumour about sending troops became fact: twenty thousand troops were required and the Comm
onwealth Government was calling for volunteers. This caused a lot of excitement. We all felt that we should go – we were fit, and another thing that appealed to us was that we would be travelling overseas and would be able to see what the other part of the world was like. So we had a meeting and decided that those who felt they should volunteer could do so.
We called Mr Flynn into the meeting and told him of our decision. He was quiet for awhile, then he said, ‘Well, what are you going to do? Enlist here, or do you want to go back west to enlist there?’ Most of us came from Western Australia and we wanted to enlist in our home state. Mr Flynn was very nice about this (his home state was New South Wales). He told us that those who wished to return to the West would have their fares paid on the first ship to sail from Sydney. He would pay our wages until the day we landed back at Fremantle. He left after ordering us to pack all the troupe gear and our own things, and be ready to move to Sydney.
Mr Flynn intended to store all his gear for the time being and see what happened. With so many young men rushing off to serve their country his immediate future with the boxing show was uncertain. I asked him if he thought of enlisting as he wasn’t very old – he was just a little over middle-age and a lot of men of his age were volunteering. He promptly replied, ‘Not me. You boys can have this one all to your- selves. I have had all I want of war. I didn’t see much of it, but what I did see was enough to satisfy me. It’s not pretty. Don’t go off thinking that you’re in for a bit of fun – it’s not like that.’
So three days later – in the second week of September – six of us boarded the P and O line’s passenger-ship Moultan at Sydney and set off for our home state, Western Australia. The ship called at Melbourne, then sailed straight for Fremantle, arriving near the end of September.
