MIRACLE MEN
Boxers who deed the odds to make their mark on the pro game despite disabilities
THE fight game is hard enough without the hindrance of a physical impairment. So anyone determined enough to box professionally despite an inherent bodily weakness must have an abundance of heart.
Modern fans will know about Robin Deakin, the Crawley super-lightweight born with two club feet. Deakin recently retired after 11 years and 55 fights as a pro. Admittedly, he lost 53 of these, but the fact he became a prizefighter at all could be called a minor miracle.
But Deakin wasn’t the only boxer with lower-leg disabilities to enjoy a long career in the paid ranks. Harry Legge of Bournemouth was born in September 1919. At age five he contracted polio, which withered his right leg. He had an operation to set his right foot on tiptoe to compensate for a size difference between the legs. To help build his confidence, in the 1930s, Harry turned to amateur boxing and amazed local sportsmen by winning most of his fights.
Eager to turn pro, Legge approached Bournemouth boxing impresarios Bob and Jack Turner to see if they would manage him. But he was told they were already oversubscribed with fighters. Several years passed and Harry kept up his amateur boxing, until finally an offer from Jack Turner arrived. By 1943 fighters were in short supply, with many called up to serve in the war, so Turner was willing to take a chance on Legge, who made his pro debut, aged 23, in June that year.
“I’d been rejected by the Services because of my deformed leg,” Harry recalled. “And as things turned out, boxing restored my shattered ego. I took as many fights as Jack could get me. Licensed fights in the winter and the booth circuit all summer. Sometimes from Easter to October proper fights clashed with booth fights, so my form suffered. It was a crazy way of pursuing a boxing career, and no way to get to the top. But I truly thought I’d get to the top anyway.”
Legge crammed over 160 official fights (84-54-26) into his 10-year pro career along with many unofficial booth bouts. From October 1944 to November 1945 he was unbeaten in 19 contests, including just three draws. In 1945-46 he had 44 bouts and in 1947 a staggering 35 fights. In 1951, he won the Western Area lightweight crown, and despite his busy schedule he was never KO’D and only stopped four times.
At one stage Legge was set to box on a Jack Solomons Harringay Arena bill, but his hopes were dashed. “I’m sorry, Harry,” Solomons said. “I can’t use you on my big shows – I’ve got too many enemies. The world press are at ringside and if you slipped and broke your leg, I’d be crucified.”
“I spent too many years of my mid20s fighting little fights,” admitted Harry. “Too many small venues; too many trips with my little bag; too many journeys to the well. It was ironic that I enjoyed it so much.”
Two other men who deserve a mention are pre-war pros Harry Jennings and the colourfully named Al Capone. Jennings (real name John James Gentleman) was born in Bethnal Green in October 1908. As an infant, his left leg was withered by polio and his right foot damaged by a fall. For several years he couldn’t walk, and for several more he relied on crutches.
Yet eventually he grew strong enough to box and turned pro at 17 under Johnny Sharpe. Remarkably, Jennings notched 153 fights (84-47-22) between 1926 and ’36, facing some of Britain’s best welters and middles.
Capone, of West Hartlepool, had less success than Legge and Jennings but nevertheless made his mark. Despite being born with a club foot, Al fought 80 times as a pro (39-35-6) between 1932 and ’42 and licked two Welsh champions.
A final nod should go to 19th-century bare-knuckle pugilist William Perry, “The Tipton Slasher”, who in spite of a withered leg became champion of England.