Tony Zale to Bill Kelly: "Rocky Graziano could blast
your head off with either hand. Let him get in close
and he'd put your lights out."
TONY ZALE GAVE IT ALL HE HAD
by Bill Kelly
Facing Tony Zale in the ring was depressing, like
sitting next to Don King in a life boat. Slugging it
out with Zale was tantamount to being locked in a
closet with a Doberman pinscher. He was the greatest
charge of the light brigade to ever step into the
ring.
A fighter named Steve Mamakos paid Zale the ultimate
accolade. He said being in the ring with Tony Zale
was like being inside a volcano.
Zale could be meaner than a peach orchard boar; he
cleaned up the middleweight division like Wyatt Earp
cleaned up Tombstone. He took to fighting like
Carrie Nation took to bars. Most of his fights were
as one-sided as a drive-by shooting. He was like a
serial killer on a rampage. He was more savage than
scientific.
And yet, the record books might not have been polite
to Tony Zale if it were not for his three
unforgettable battles with Rocky Graziano.
None of
three private wars inside of 21 months went over six
rounds. The punishment they absorbed finished them
both as fighters. In Zale's case, his fight with
Marcel Cerdan three months after he regained the
title from Rocky on June 10, 1948, was his finale.
Fifty-two years should be long enough to dim
memories, but the pictures of their three furious
assaults simply won't turn off. Quantrill's burning
of Lawrence, Kansas was a standoff compared to these
barn-burners.
It is suffice to say that both Zale and Graziano
would have vanished into the ring record books
virtually unnoticed if they never would have faced
each other in the ring. Lucky for us, fate
maneuvered them into one of the most exciting
rivalries on the modern era, a feud comparable to
Pep vs. Saddler, Robinson vs. LaMotta, Ali vs.
Frazier, Ketchel vs. Papke. It put them on the map
the way Knute Rockne put Notre Dame on the map. Or
Bela Lugosi immortalized Dracula. Otherwise, they
would have rode off into the sunset as forgotten as
an abandoned puppy in an animal shelter.
Tony Zale was not the best middleweight to ever step
into the battle pit but he was a goring, stomping
bull of a man who dodged no one. He walked the plank
at a time when the middleweight division was known
in boxing lore as "Death Valley." They controlled
the battlefield: Rocky Graziano, Al Hostak, Billy
Soose, Fred Apostoli, Steve Belloise, Georgie
Abrams, Marcel Cerdan, Nate Bolden, Marty Servo,
Solly Krieger. The twilight didn't belong to the
gods, it belonged to these guys.
Born Anthony Florian Zaleski on May 29, 1913, in
Gary Indiana, Tony spent most of his time at the
local amateur boxing club when he wasn't working in
the steel mill. He developed a body as hard as a
banker's heart. He won 50 of his 95 amateur bouts
inside the distance losing only eight fights.
An over anxious manager had him fight 28 times the
first year. That sort of arithmetic would discourage
Einstein. After losing five of his last nine scraps
he lost interest and retired at age 21. Art Winch
and Sam Pian, two renown managers convinced Zale to
make a comeback. From 1937 to 1948, under their
guidance, he ran up an impressible streak of wins,
before fighting three murderous fights with the
great Al Hostak.
The first fight was held on June 29, 1940 in
Chicago. Although Hostak was NBA middleweight
champion, it was a non-title fight. Zale won a
10-round decision, which earned him a title shot in
Seattle. Hostak was a powerful puncher who had
racked up 47 kayos. Along the way he developed
broken and cracked knuckles that proved a permanent
handicap.
Hostak piled up an early lead in the title scrap in
Chicago on July 19, but Zale caught up with him in
the 13th. Zale was middleweight champion to most of
the world -- the New York Commission recognized
Ceferino Garcia. Hostak and Zale fought for the last
time on May 28, again in Chicago. Zale knocked out
Hostak in two rounds.
Garcia lost his title to Ken Overlin in 1940 and
Overland lost it to Billy Soose a year later. When
Soose moved up to the light heavyweight class, the
New York Commission declared its title vacant. It
was decided to match Zale with the No. 1 contender,
Georgie Abrams, for the undisputed middleweight
championship.
The Zale camp studied films of Abrams and recognized
him as a fighter with the speed of ocelots -- but no
power behind his punches. He was taken as much for
granted as a janitor. You imagine Buster Douglas
felt like this. Abrams dropped Zale for the nine
count in the first round. The Man of Steel staggered
back to his corner like a drunk looking for a place
to crash.
His handlers were able to revive him between rounds.
In the second round an accidental butt ripped
Abrams' left eye open. To his credit, Abrams
finished the fight and lost a close 15 round
decision. Tony Zale was crowned World Middleweight
Champion.
On February 13, 1942 Zale moved up to the
lightheavyweight division and lost a decision to
Billy Conn. He served out the war as a petty officer
keeping sailors in sharp while stationed in Puerto
Rico. While keeping in shape, he remained inactive
until his discharge in December 1945. Returning to
the ring, he scored 6 fast knockouts over worthy
opponents before defending his title against a
fight-fan's fighter named Rocky Graziano on
September 27, in New York. Rocky had made headlines
by knocking out unbeaten Billy Arnold, Al "Bummy"
Davis, Freddie "Red" Cochrane, Harold Green. and
Marty Servo. Neither man had an intention of going
15 rounds.
Zale told this writer, "We both knew it was the end
of the line for the loser."
The "Man of Steel" was thirty-two, with twelve years
ring experience under his belt and a champion who
hadn't defended his title since 1941. Graziano was
twenty-four, a local brawler and favorite who had
never been knocked out. Since turning pro in 1942 he
had racked up 32 kayos in 54 bouts, losing six
fights by decision.
The excitement generated by the thirty thousand fans
who had gathered at Yankee Stadium that night
crackled like sparks on a San Francisco trolley wire.
Rocky was magnificent during the early rounds. He
dropped Zale in the second round and had the
champion soaking up punches and holding on for dear
life. It seemed impossible that Zale could survive
rounds three, four, and five; bursting, bone-hurting
punches carved up his face and Graziano built a
bonfire in his ribs.
The crowd was in an uproar as the clang of the bell
signaled the start of the sixth round. Zale told
this writer, "I came out in the sixth with a broken
right hand. I knew I had to finish him or I was
through."
A desperate "broken" right hand to the breadbasket
forced Rocky to drop his guard. A stunning left hook
to the jaw sent Graziano kicking. The crowd went
wild. They each received $78, 892.82 -- a record for
a middleweight fight.
"We earned every cent of it," Zale said. "Rocky hurt
me plenty. It took me weeks to recover from that
fight."
The rematch was held in Chicago on July 16, 1947 in
a scorching 105 degree heat. "Tony was the only
fighter that had ever knocked me out," said
Graziano. "I was there for revenge. It was no boxing
match. It was a private war, and if there hadn't
been a referee, one of us would have wound up dead.
The fight lasted only 18 minutes, but I still get
nightmares thinking about it!"
Smothering punches came with blinding speed and
neither man gave ground. The heat was so intense
that by the fifth round, Zale said, the Vaseline
used to protect his eyes had melted and "was running
into my eyes." Tony floored Rocky but New York's
favorite delinquent bounced up without a count and
waded into another barrage. It was Pier Nine-like
punishment. Between rounds, the referee wanted to
stop it. Rocky pleaded for one more round. That's
all he needed.
The two sluggers beat one another until the older
Zale couldn't raise his arms to defend himself.
Zale's eyes were globs of creole gumbo. Graziano's
face looked like the inside membrane of eggs. Tony
was hanging over the ropes as helpless as a tackling
dummy on chains. The referee stopped it. Zale's
seven year reign as champion was over.
Eleven months later, on June 10, 1948, Zale and
Graziano fought for the last time. They fought in
Newark, New Jersey. No one since Stanley Ketchel had
ever regained the middleweight championship from the
man to whom he lost it. But after three rounds of
fighting in the tradition of Basilio-Robinson, or
Hearns-Hagler, Graziano went down for the count.
Following their mind-boggling series, Graziano
continued to walk through minor opponents before
being knocked out by Sugar Ray Robinson in his last
hurrah. He was elected to Boxing Hall of Fame in
1971, 13 years after Zale received the same honor.
Zale, meanwhile, defended his crown against Marcel
Cerdan. But, as Zale admitted to me, the Graziano
fights had taken everything out of him. On September
21, 1948, in Jersey City, the Frenchman hammered
Zale around as if he were a bean bag. Before the
start of the 12th round, Zale pitched forward off
his stool and hit the canvas. Marcel Cerdan was the
new middleweight champion of the world.
Zale said he had not given himself enough time to
recover from the Graziano series before fighting
Cerdan only three months later. "Or I would have
beaten the Frenchman easily."
Tony Zale died on Thursday, March 20, 1997, leaving
behind a record of 67-18-2 with 44 knockouts.
I asked Zale what his most memorable fight was. He
said it was his rubber match with Graziano, when
they drew 21,497 fans and $335, 646. "I can't think
of any fights where I didn't give the fans their
money's worth," he said.
And I couldn't either. **********