Thursday, August 26, 2010

1911-03-14 Packey McFarland ND10 Owen Moran (Bronx, NY, USA)

1911-03-15 The Sun (New York, NY) (page 10)
M'FARLAND ALL THE WAY
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AMERICAN FIGHTER EASILY OUTPOINTS OWEN MORAN.
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Remarkable Science of Chicagoan Bewilders British Boxer--Rushing and Slugging by Moran Easily Checkmated--Big Crowd at Fairmont A. C.

A great exhibition of scientific boxing enabled Packy McFarland of Chicago to score a signal victory over Owen Moran of England in a ten round bout at the Fairmont A. C. last night. A crowd that packed the building expected this result, but nobody looked for such a brilliant performance as that shown by the American.

McFarland's wonderful speed was chiefly responsible for his success. He was lightning in attack and defence. With an unerring left he jabbed Moran incessantly and scored the points so rapidly that Moran was at times bewildered. Dancing in and out with remarkable footwork the Chicago lightweight was so fast in landing blows and avoiding them that he was easily the master.

Moran had natural strength and a hard wallop in either hand, but McFarland's defence was so invincible that very few effective blows were driven home. When Moran found that he was outclassed in scientific boxing he tried rushing and slugging, but McFarland knew how to checkmate him at this style with beautiful skill.

McFarland had the better of every round but the first, which was even up. He kept cool under fire and boxed cleanly and fairly. He did not lose his temper and was the sportsman always. Moran was extremely good natured, laughing repeatedly when hit and made no excuses for his defeat.

The bout was purely one in which real science was displayed by both men and as the veteran Charlie White described it, "one of the classiest seen in New York in many years."

When the bout began McFarland, straight as a ramrod, sparred beautifully for a moment. He feinted with puzzling rapidity and then began shooting in light lefts to feel the Britisher out.

As the battle progressed and McFarland's confidence in himself increased he began to speed up to the top notch. Then it was that Moran discovered that he was opposed by one of the greatest boxers the ring has ever produced. McFarland was as quick as a flash. His hands shot in with great precision. If he didn't lead he was blocking or ducking away from heavy swings.

Up to the third round the men were extremely cautious and very few hard blows reached their destination. But in the third round McFarland put in so many clean cut punches that it was then evident that he had taken Moran's measure. Moran rallied in the fourth round and tried to mix it at close quarters. McFarland was equal to this emergency and showed that he knew as much about this kind of fighting as at long range. The fifth round bristled with fast boxing, but there was such a lack of heavy hitting that the crowd showed some displeasure.

In the sixth round McFarland's speed was greater than ever. He forced the issue so persistently that Moran was driven into the ropes, where he fell from the force of a push, not a punch. McFarland had the Englishman beating a retreat under rapid fire tactics in the seventh round, and for a moment it looked as if something serious might happen.

After that great boxing by McFarland carried him further to the front and he won in a blaze of glory. "McFarland was too heavy for me," said Moran after he had dressed. "He was also too quick; I didn't have my usual speed, though I felt good. Packy isn't a hard hitter but I'll admit he is a very clever boxer. I will box him again at 133 pounds at 8 P. M. and I'll bet $5,000 of my own money against $1,000 of his that I can beat him. I want a longer battle, however."

"I had no trouble at all," said McFarland, who was all smiles. "He didn't hit me more than half a dozen times in the whole affair. I was satisfied to outpoint him, for I simply wanted to show my superiority as a boxer. I ate three square meals to-day and yet I only weighed 134 at scaling time. I don't believe I was more than seven pounds heavier than Moran, who is a clever fellow and a dangerous puncher if he can land. But as he couldn't land, why, he lost."

It was estimated that the reservations paid by members reached the $15,000 mark. The boxers received separate sums for their services but the figures were not made public. It was a satisfactory contest in every particular and one that will not be forgotten in a hurry.

McFarland and Moran went to a Russian bath in 125th street at 5 o'clock to weigh in at 135 pounds. McFarland stripped to the buff and did not move the beam when he hopped on the scales. He said he actually weighed 134 pounds. As Moran prepared to weigh Packy smilingly pushed him from the machine.

"You needn't weigh, Owen," said the Chicago boxer, "I know you are well under the limit."

"All right, my boy," responded the little Englishman, putting on his clothes, "I'm much obliged." Moran declared that he didn't carry an ounce more than 129 pounds. The men had dinner at different restaurants and then went to nearby hotels to take naps. McFarland told his friends that he had sprained a tendon in his right ankle several days ago, but that the hurt was not serious and would not interfere with his work. It was closely figured that when the boxers climbed into the ring McFarland would have about eight pounds on Moran, considered a pronounced advantage. Packy was a strong favorite.

The clubhouse in East 137th street neat Third avenue was the gathering place for a big crowd even before the doors were opened. Hundreds of these boxing fans had no idea of trying to get into the building, but they wanted to see the fun. Taxis, autos, carriages and hansoms brought the members to the doors in bunches. The club officials had gray coated policemen on guard and nobody was admitted without a membership ticket.

Inside the building the seats were soon occupied until more than 2,500 members were ready for the fun. Among them were many well known men, including William Travers Jerome, James Mahoney, William S. Devery, Eugene McGuire, Bob Vernon, P. J. Dwyer, J. G. Follansbee, George Considine, Fred Houseman, Tom Sharkey, Dave Johnson, John A. Drake, A. B. Hudson, Anthony Drexel Biddle, Philadelphia Jack O'Brien, Kid McCoy, Tom O'Rourke, Patsey Haley, Jesse McMahon, Ed. McMahon, James Rowe, Willie Shaw, Alderman Brown, Arthur McLean, Alderman C. Smith, Deputy Superintendent of Buildings Halberstand, James Clancy, William Brennan, James Kenny, James Meehan, Jr., James Meehan, Sr., Frederick Humphries, Commissioner Henry Brittner, Assemblyman J. Silverman, former Sheriff Tom Foley, Eddie Curry, Alderman Johnny White, Markie Mayer, William Smith, Honest John Kelly, Max Blumenthal, Bob Rose, Henry Tobin, Sim Walton, Algernon Daingerfield, Joe Vendig, Harlem Tommy Murphy, Tom Costigan, John Walters, Frank Moore, Dick Lee, John J. Murphy, Willie Shea, Edward Barrow, Harry Shafer, One Round Hogan, Dan Tone, Pal Moore, James DeForest, Emil Thiery, TOm Messenger, Joe Norton, Paul Armstrong, Wilson Mizner, Sam Brenner, Abe Attell, Joseph Hughes, Harry Pollok, Lester Doctor, Harry Von Tilzer, Nat Goodwin, George F. Johnson, Ed. Downey, Robert Davis, Sam Lewis, Roach Lewis, Jack Cooper, Dan O'Rourke, W. J. Connor, Gus Rogers, John H. O'Brien, Frank O'Brien, Edgar Murphy, Warren Barbour, Charley White, Ben Coffey, Eddie Foy, Dan O'Reilly, Jakey Josephs, Morris Rose, Michael C. Padden and George Rauchell.

Just before McFarland and Moran appeared One Round Hogan, Frank Klaus, Tommy Maloney, Johnny Marto, Joe Coster and other fistic celebrities were introduced. Then came the star lightweights and the crowd received them with enthusiasm.

McFarland's seconds were his brother Johnny, Young Corbett, Bob Cannon and Emil Thiery. Moran was handled by C. J. Harvey, Jeff Berry, Jimmy Johnston and Fred Sears. The referee was William Joh.

When they stripped for action it was seen that McFarland was a bit taller, with a longer reach. He seemed to be trained very fine. Moran was sturdier in build and, although lighter, he appeared to have plenty of raggedness. They shook hands at 10:30 o'clock.

First Round--They sparred a moment until McFarland moved in with a light left, Moran smothered it. McFarland led again with the same result. As Packy continued to force it, Moran countered on the ribs. McFarland put a slight left on the throat and in a quick mix Moran hooked the right to the ear. They came to close quarters, each punching the body. Then McFarland tried left leads until he found an opening for an uppercut. Moran mixed it to a clinch and on the break they stood off and sparred to the bell, with honors even and no harm done.

Second Round--McFarland quickly put in lefts to the nose and mouth, dancing away from a hard counter. He cut out the pace with more jabs until Moran clinched. Then Moran rushed with a double swing, Packy backing to the ropes. They exchanged swings on the head and McFarland put hot shot into the stomach. Moran clinched and McFarland used a free hand. Packy was so fast in his attack that the Briton received several swift jabs in the face. Then Moran began to cut loose, but he found that McFarland had a superb defence. It was pretty work with the round in McFarland's favor.

Third Round--McFarland put a sharp left on the ear and bored in to a clinch. Moran rushed, but the Chicago man ducked and clinched with great skill. At short range they both used body blows and then at long range Moran missed a right uppercut for the jaw. McFarland cut out an even faster pace, jabbing with the left and hooking the right into the body. Moran stood up and countered stiffly, but McFarland continued to do the leading. Moran missed more short jolts and getting into a clinch they roughed it a trifle. They were sparring at the gong, the round being just a shade in Packey's favor on work and blows landed.

Fourth Round--Moran put a solid left on the eye as McFarland came in with the usual jabbing tactics. McFarland paid some attention to the ribs and Moran countered hotly on the mouth. Moran stood close then and swung left and right to the body and jaw, but the blows were glancing and did no harm. McFarland forced the scrap until Moran dashed in with a left in the ribs. They exchanged swings and also landed hard wallops in the body. McFarland put the right over to the jaw a moment before time was up, but the Briton only laughed. The round was McFarland's by a shade.

Fifth Round--Moran rushed in with a left in the stomach. Packy backed away to the ropes. Moran stood close for a mix, McFarland jolting him on the jaw with a quick left. McFarland put in swift bodyblows, Moran countering heavily on the neck and wrestling in a clinch that followed. McFarland landed a left over the eye and rushed Moran to a corner, where the Briton cut loose with a heavy swing on the ear. They mixed it to a clinch, after which McFarland met a wild rush with a belt on the neck. Moran mixed it again, but McFarland outpointed him. So far the blows of both men lacked steam and some of the members hissed. The round was McFarland's.

Sixth Round--Moran jumped in with a hard left on the mouth. McFarland responded with a quick volley of jabs until the men were locked. Packy put a stiff left on the chin and when he rushed in to follow it up Moran ducked and sprinted away. McFarland kept after him, however, and never let up in his jabbing tactics until Moran suddenly jarred him with a right on the neck. Then Packy blocked a moment, after which they mixed it and both landed solid blows on the head. Moran was driven to the ropes, where he fell, but he jumped back into the ring and ran into a hard mix just as the bell rang. McFarland's round on points.

Seventh Round--Moran ran full tilt across the ring and put a left on the neck. McFarland mixed it and with a right hook on the chin he made Moran clinched. McFarland was chain lightning in his attack and Moran was forced to counter for a moment. Then Moran rushed wildly and both landed long swings on the neck. Moran's mouth was bleeding, but he wore a smile and met another advance with a solid right hand punch on the jaw. Packy came right in, however, with the inevitable left, also driving in the right to the jaw with such force that Moran went into the ropes. McFarland's round and the crowd in an uproar.

Eighth Round--Moran rushed, as usual, but he received a sharp left in the mouth. Packy stood up and outboxed his man for a moment until Moran bored in desperately. McFarland then put in three quick lefts that rocked Moran's head and made the crowd laugh. Packy's left was a beauty and Moran could not block it. McFarland also used a right hook with some effect until Moran rushed like a bulldog into a clinch. McFarland received a hard punch on the ribs but he paid no attention to it and proceeded to outpoint the Britisher to the gong. McFarland's round.

Ninth Round--McFarland walked into a clinch and on the break Moran landed a hook on the neck. Moran also swung left and right but did no harm because of Packy's great blocking. McFarland then stood up and shot lefts into the Briton's face. Moran finally countered in the stomach. In a half clinch Moran tried a jumping hook, but it was smothered and McFarland then feinted his man into knots. Packy's left went squarely to the mouth and Moran mixing it drove him to the ropes. Moran tried a left shift and missed the head by a foot just as the round ended. McFarland's round on points.

Tenth Round--Moran blocked a couple of lefts and then began to swing for all he was worth. His blows did not land, as Packey slipped away, but McFarland quickly came back with left and right on the head. Packey also cut loose with another volley of punches, all of which reached Moran's head. In a hot mix Moran pounded the ribs, but McFarland started another attack that made Moran duck and clinch. McFarland met a rush with a great right in the stomach and before the round ended he caught Moran on the jaw with a right swing. It was McFarland's round and he won easily on points.

A partial knockout ended the first preliminary in the second round. The principals were Artie Edwards and Mickey Finnegan, featherweights, who came on for four rounds. Finnegan had received some hard punches when he suddenly let fly a long hard righthander that landed flush on the jaw and put Edwards out of it.

Walter McGirr and Jimmy Smith, welterweights, came next in a heavy hitting bout scheduled to go four rounds. Referee Jon stopped proceedings at the end of the third round after McGirr had been floored.

Another bout of four rounds brought together Kid Fisher and Jimmy Dempsey, lightweights. The latter was overmatched and in the second round, when he was receiving hot shot from Fisher, the referee interfered.

Light heavyweights, Bobby Handy and Billy Howard, followed in a mix arranged to go six rounds. A sledgehammer left squarely on the nose made Handy sit down, blinking and gasping, in the first round, and as he had no further chance the referee waved him out of the ring amid roars of laughter.

Willie Green and Kid Alberts then clashed for six rounds at light weights. These men possessed some real cleverness, and they boxed so evenly for three rounds that the crowd enjoyed it immensely. In the fourth round they slowed down, both tiring, but Green doing the more effective work with blows in the body. Alberts tried to force matters in the fifth, but his blows had little steam and Green had the better of it. The pace was so slow that some of the members whistled waltz music, while others cried "Take 'em off!" They fought fast and furiously in the last round. Alberts landed several jarring blows on the neck and jaw, while Green kept on driving in wallops to the breadbasket. On the whole the bout looked like a draw and the fickle crowd applauded as the men went away.

Babe Davis and Young Roach were introduced for a four round exhibition. They were strong looking feathers and proceeded to mix it strenuously. Both were staggered by smashes on the jaw before the first round was a minute old. They slugged without a breathing spell in the second round until Davis began to cover up on the defensive. Davis rallied in the third and soon had Roach's nose bleeding. Davis poured in all kinds of blows then and finally knocked Roach down with a hook on the jaw. The latter wanted to continue, but the referee said "Enough!"

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