Tony Canzoneri was a premier fighter in his heyday, but Lou Ambers eclipsed him. We'll never know how Canzoneri would have fared against Lew Jenkins, Fritzie Zivic and Henry Armstrong, but Ambers beat them all. Convincingly. Ambers had 228 fights and lost but 8, a better record than Sammy Angott, Davey Day, Bob Montgomery or Beau Jack. He split with Henry Armstong and said Hammerin' Hank refused to fight him a third time. Armstrong said Ambers wouldn't fight him. All this touched off a lifetime feud deserving of Oprah Winfrey.

He was born Luigi D'Ambrosio on November 8, 1913, in Herkimer, New York. He started fighting in 1929 in contraband shows for a miserly $5 a fight. He fought every three weeks against fighters absent in the longevity lists. Using superior agility and speed, he hammered away in true bulldog style until he or his opponent was battered into submission. He came up in a long-lost era when the certifiably best fighters in each division were pitted against one another, regardless of the consequences.

The record book lies like falsies. It shows Ambers fought a total of 102 pro bouts from 1932 to 1941. What it doesn't show is that he sharpened his tools in 80 fights under the pseudonym "Otis Paradise."

It happened this way: While hanging around smoke-filled gyms, Lou met Nicanor Rafael, a manager who took an interest in him the way Houdini took an interest in miracles. Or Evel Knieval was attracted to danger. Rafael said he could line Lou up with some bootleg fights which were thriving in the slum sectors of central New York and Pennsylvania at the time. So they piled in Rafael's beat-up buggy and traveled to Kingston, New York.

The card had already been filled but when a fighter named Otis Paradise had failed to show up by fight time the promoter said Lou could take his place. Nobody informed the ring announcer of the change, so he introduced Lou as "Otis Paradise." So the skinny kid who had slept in Central Park and barely avoided sheer starvation, climbed into the ring and bombed out his opponent in one round. As time went on, fans turned out in droves to watch "Otis Paradise" mop up of a bunch of lofty lighties. He went from town to town cleaning up the opposition like Crazy Horse emptying one fort after another. Stay tuned. His story is unique in the annals of Fistiana. Returning to Manhattan he was spotted by Al Weill on June 27, 1933 while engaged in slug-fast duel with Tony Scarpati in the Coney Island Velodrome. Al consented to take over the management of Lou Ambers. It was like the meeting of Robinson Crusoe and Friday. Rockne and The Gipper. There was no stopping Ambers with Weill at the helm. Together, they were the perfect storm.

Lou never knew what happened to the real Otis Paradise. He could have ran off with Amelia Earhart or he could have been picked up by Hannibal Lecter while hitchhiking in Hackensack for all Lou knows. Privately, Lou suspects he spent his life boasting about how he slugged with sluggers and mauled with maulers while running up an improbable string of wins on the bootleg circuit.

Weill found an enchanting impromptu in Lou's boxing style that carried him all the way to a lightweight title fight. On May 10, 1935 Ambers lost a grueling 15 round decision for the lightweight title against tough Tony Canzoneri. "He was my idol, and he beat me because I was nervous," Lou said. " I had sparred with him at Madam Bey's Training Camp a couple of years before. When Weill says 'We're gonna fight him again,' I could hardly wait."

In July, Lou decisioned Fritzie Zivic, a rhinoceros, whose fists were among the deadliest weapons in the ring. Dirty fighting began with Zivic until it took on the fear of drive-by-shootings and serial killers on the rampage. Other fighters hyperventilated at the mere mention of his name. But Lou took him on without a sword and a cape.

On St. Paddy's Day in 1936, Ambers fought Tony Scarpati again, this time in Brooklyn. Scarpati was a strong fighter with an abundance of stamina and a master in rough-house tumbling. In the seventh round Scarpati went down, never to rise again. Lou cried. "I told Al Weill, 'I'm going to quit fighting." Lou said. But Weill convinced him to continue. "Don't quit, go and rest up," he told Lou. The next fight Ambers had was for the benefit of the Scarpati family.

On Sept. 3, 1936, Ambers won the lightweight title from Canzoneri, then lost a non-title go with Jimmy McLarnin, who walloped him something fierce. On May 7, 1937 he retained his World Lightweight Title by again outpointing Canzoneri. On Sept. 23 he fended off Pedro Montanez's bid for the title with a remarkable demonstration of ring generalship.

Boxing is a game that lends itself only to the daring. Canzoneri retired with a total of 44 kayos in 181 fights. He was knocked out only once, by Al ( Bummy) Davis, in the last fight of his career ( Nov. 1, 1939).

On July 17, 1938 Ambers' fight with the crouching, weaving Henry Armstrong drew 20,000 delirious fans into Madison Square Garden. Newspapers called it "one of the fastest, most furious and savage bouts every fought." Armstong was out to become the first man in the history of Boxicana to hold three world titles simultaneously -- featherweight, welterweight, and lightweight. The suddenness of Hammerin'Hank's attack flustered Ambers and in the fifth round he went down a flash before the bell, which saved him from a knockout. In the sixth round Ambers went down again under a non-stop barrage of stunning blows. He got up at the count of eight, and for the rest of the fight Ambers worked expertly at his trade, storming "Hammering Hank" with street-brawler lefts and rights. At the final bell Armstrong's mouth was obliterated by tears of intricated flesh. Armstrong looked more like the hammered than the hammering. His face resembled a reflection in a hub cap.

"He beat me in a close fight," Ambers said. "He had about ten stitches in his mouth. I thought I won. I cut his mouth. I cut his eye. Maybe he was the better man that night, but the following year I took the title back from him. There was to be a third fight. I was in training when Al Weill called and told me Armstrong backed out. He wanted no part of me.

(Author's Note): When I asked Ambers and Armstong to pose together for me at the Boxing Hall of Fame Banquet in Los Angeles, they both refused, or even refused to acknowledge one another. That's how bitter their lifetime feud was).

In 1940 Ambers decisioned tough Al ( Bummy) Davis, then lost his lightweight title to Lew Jenkins on May 10th. "Lou knocked me down three time in the third round, so Weill tossed in the towel," said Lou. "You're all done, Lou, he tells me. I says, No, Al. Give me one shot. Let me fight him again."

I couldn't make the weight the first time around. I barely came in at the limit. When you get older in the fight game, you're gonna weaken. Well, when I fought him ( Feb. 28, 1941) the second time he knocked me down in the seventh and Al threw in the towel right away -- before the referee could stop it. I could have continued, I know it.

"When you're younger, you see a right hand coming, you just step aside. That night, with Jenkins, I couldn't get out of the way. I got hit and went down. But oh, how I loved to fight! I fought about forty fights in one year. These sissies today fight once or twice a year. They couldn't have taken the pace we took. I had 238 fights counting the bootleg fights. I lost 8. Those were the good old days.

"My contract with Weill still had a few years to run, but he made me quit. 'I'm not going to see you abused,' he told me. 'I won't let you fight again and I have you tied up so you can't fight for nobody else.'"

Lou ranted and raved, but Weill wouldn't give in. "You've got money...annuities. You're not going to starve. You're my baby, my boy. I'm not going to see you on queer street," Weill told Ambers. Their manager-fighter relationship was as rare as rubies.

So Lou joined the Coast Guard and served his country honorably during World War II. When I interviewed him he lived in Phoenix, Arizona.

"There were a lot of tough boys fighting at the time," Lou recalled. "It was very hard." He counted Fritzie Zivic among his toughest foes and said Zivic would have cleaned up the division if he were fighting today. Fritzie's fame had spread around Pittsburgh sporting centers and he was in great demand. Nobody would fight him. But Weill knew he had a good fighter in Ambers, so he took the match. Lou tells it better than I can:

"In the seventh round, he threw a right and I stepped back holding my mouth open. He hit me on the chin and broke my jaw. Blood gushed from my mouth and Weill started to throw in the towel. 'Don't do that, I'm going to finish this fight,' I told him. For the next two rounds I beat the devil out of him and took the decision. But I knew I was in a war. The doctors bandaged me up like Frankenstein."

As for Lew Jenkins, Ambers said he would have achieved all-time greatness if he would have been as dedicated to his profession as to gaiety.

"Lew's sparring partner's were Haig & Haig and he loved to spar with big rig trucks on his motorcycle," Ambers laughed. "Personally, I think the guy was born with a lose screw."

And Henry Armstrong? Ambers wouldn't talk about him. His idea of sharing a sentence with Armstrong was cruel and inhuman punishment. Likewise, mentioning Lou Ambers had the same effect on Henry Armstong as a wet holiday. These two guys had so little in common they didn't even hate the same people -- except for each other. I mean, Daniel got along in the lion's den, and Johna got along in the whale, but these two guys would never get along. Yet separately, I found them both to be wonderful fellows. Lou Ambers was elected to Boxing Hall of Fame in 1964. No fighter in the history of Fistiana deserved it more. Except, with apologies to Lou, Henry Armstong. ****

A Bit About Bill Kelly

From 1965 to present Bill Kelly has written for dozens of magazines and newspapers either as a staff writer or free-lancer. His 15,000 published articles include modern crime and gangsters, celebrity interviews, old West gambling stories, treasure stories, tales of the old West, and boxing. His most memorable interviews were conducted with John Wayne (Wayne's last interview), Henry Fonda, Rocky Marciano, Muhammad Ali, Joe Louis, Sugar Ray Robinson and Ike Williams.

His California tabloid experience includes The Los Angeles Herald Examiner, Orange County Register, Valley Tribune, and Valley Star, where he doubled as Managing Editor and feature writer.

Kelly's magazine experience includes Gambling Scene Magazine, Poker Digest, Treasure Search, Oklahoma State Trooper, California State Trooper, Virginia State Trooper, Boxing Digest, Boxing Illustrated, KO Magazine, Hollywood Studio, Country Review, Sports Illustrated, and too many true crime magazines to list here.

Kelly's true crime stories, and his book, Homicidal Mania, can be viewed on http://www.cybersleuths.com/

For additional true crime by Bill Kelly: editor@crimemagazine.com

His stories on New Mexico History are currently running in the On-Line New Mexico Magazine: http://www.southernnewmexico.com

Autographed copies of Bill Kelly's books, Gamblers of the Old West ( $25 plus $3.50 shipping & handling) and Treasure Trails and Buried Bandit Booty ($14.95 total) can be purchased by contacting the author at: wildbill@cosmoaccess.net

Bill is currently looking for a publisher for his manuscript, Empty Saddles. This book contains interviews with 50 of the 1940 B-cowboy movie stars including Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, Bob Steele, Sunset Carson, and many more. This book is the result of 25 years research and writing, and Kelly considers this his finest work to date.

Bill Kelly is a writer for hire. His Kelly's Korner was at one time syndicated and well received. He is especially interested in reviving this column for an interested tabloid.