Rickard, however, didn’t care about reputations for fakes or quibbles in the past. Despite his inexperience with the professional sport, with unwavering nerve to handle any man, Rickard was eager to make a match with Gans. A fight to the finish between Nelson and Gans at Goldfield would settle the claim to the world title once and for all. The new promoter was determined to make it the grandest event the world had ever seen.
With Gans lacking a manager, Rickard had difficulty at first getting the offer into his hands. Rickard had heard that Gans was in San Francisco and requested help from W. W. Naughton, sports editor of Hearst’s paper in San Francisco. With his contacts, Naughton located Gans and relayed the offer. In wiring Rickard that he would take the fight, Gans agreed to any terms Nelson demanded, so desperate was he for a fight.
Once Rickard had his contestants, he turned on the publicity spigot and it ran until the day of the fight. He knew how it felt to see gold stacked on the gambling table, and he created quite a stir when he displayed the entire $30,000 purse in twenty-dollar gold pieces in full view through a window of the John S. Cook Bank of Goldfield.
Matching Gans with Nelson created its own publicity. The two fighters’ styles couldn’t be any different. Nelson was the younger and a dirty fighter. Gans was a veteran technician and gentleman. Battling Nelson was born in Copenhagen in 1882. His nickname, the “Durable Dane,” captured his superhuman ability to withstand pugilistic punishment. As Tracy Callis summarized, “Nelson was one of the roughest, toughest men to ever enter the ring, no doubt about it. He could box a little but rarely did. He preferred to brawl.”7 His offense was punishing. Nelson was known for his “scissors hook,” a “short left hook aimed at the liver or kidneys with his thumb and forefinger extended to give a painful pinch or stab” through the thinly-padded gloves.8
Once when Columbia rowing coach Dr. Walter B. Peet examined the Dane for his endurance, he found the boxer’s heartbeat to be an incredible 47 beats per minute compared to the norm of 72, a heartbeat he said that was only found in the “colder-blooded animals which survived the days of antiquity and the cold of the Ice Age.”9 Consulting with surgeons and the curator of the American Museum of Natural History, Peet and his experts agreed that calculations of Nelson’s head revealed the “thickest skull bones of any human being since Neanderthal man.”10 And yet for all his brute strength, amazing endurance, and age advantage (Nelson was in his prime at 24 and Gans at 31 was considered old), Billy Nolan, Nelson’s manager, worried about a loss to the sterling technical skills of the master boxer. But he knew Gans was dead broke and could be forced into concessions.
Nolan ruthlessly sought to preserve his man’s title. With the pounds Gans had added fighting in the welterweight division, Nolan threw his force into the weight issue. He knew that shedding the pounds to make 133 would be such a terrible strain on Gans’ body that it would tax his stamina and give an advantage to Nelson, who would have no trouble making the weight. Because Gans was financially desperate and without a persuasive negotiator, Nolan was able to call the shots in the Articles of Agreement and claim an unequal percentage of the purse. Gans would get $10,000—Nelson $20,000 of the $30,000 total fighters’ purse. In addition, Gans had to succumb to the unheard of triple weigh-ins before the match. Gans argued for a single weigh-in at noon, but Nolan stipulated that there must be three: noon, 2:30 and 3:00—when the match was set to begin. Nolan was skeptical that Gans could make the initial weight restriction, but if he did, Nolan didn’t want him to try to re-nourish himself before the fight and take on any weight after reducing to the initial limit. He wanted him worn out at the start of the fight.
Gans’ New Manager: Out of the Frying Pan into the Fire
Getting to Nevada proved stressful enough for Gans. In his biography of Tex Rickard, Charles Samuels states that Gans “was so broke that he had to borrow train fare to get to Goldfield with his white trainer, Frank MacDonald.”11 The arrival of his train at the newly constructed Goldfield station brought out the crowds. The miners were especially taken by the humble man and throughout Gans’ stay in Goldfield they were decidedly in the champion’s corner. He was a man of the people. Everyone said Gans had the kind of true magnetism that drew you to him. As acting president of the club, Larry M. Sullivan was at Gans’ arrival to “officially” greet the fighter and chauffeur his small entourage of two through the throng of 1500 cheering miners.
During the short drive to Tex’s saloon, The Northern, Sullivan learned that Gans had no manager and in fact had no money to pay for his appearance and the weight forfeiture amount necessary for the fight to go forward. Nelson’s manager demanded $5000, a sum which Sullivan graciously offered to pay, with only one string attached: that Gans allow him to be his new manager.
Gans had been shanghaied again. Sullivan dropped MacDonald at The Northern and told him to “drink up” at the new manager’s expense. He then showed Gans through the Sullivan Trust Company where dozens of bookkeepers sat at desks working on stock orders that had come in that day through the mail as a result of the tremendous publicity. He ushered Gans into a private office where he introduced the boxer to his partner and general manager, George Graham Rice. In that back room outfitted as luxuriously as any Eastern bank, Gans was told about “the deal” they were going to make with him in exchange for paying his forfeiture fee and training expenses during his stay in Goldfield.
Joe Gans (left) could not afford the $5000 forfeit deposit for the Goldfield fight. A generous donation for the fee and expenses was made by “Shanghai” Larry Sullivan (right) in return for allowing him to manage the Old Master. Sullivan’s celebrity never matched that of the fight’s promoter, Tex Rickard. While the publicity from the “Fight of the Century” helped to create the last gold rush on the western frontier, by early 1907 the L.M. Sullivan Trust Company was bankrupt (courtesy the Central Nevada Historical Society, Tonopah, Nevada).
It is attributed to Rice that “the Negro champion did a little dance of joy and thanksgiving on learning that all his new and generous manager required was a promise that he would defeat Nelson. ‘If you lose,’ Shanghai Larry explained in the kindliest tone of which he was capable, ‘you’ll never get out of Goldfield alive. My friends are gonna bet a ton of money on you. They will kill you if you don’t beat Nelson by a mile.’”12
Gans explained “he could beat Nelson with one hand, if necessary, and that he was eager to win as decisively as possible to redeem himself in the eyes of the sports world.”13 According to Rice, Gans simply promised “he would do his best.”14
Gans’ comment about beating Nelson “with one hand” would prove prophetic in the 33rd round when his hand would break, and the stakes of this fight would be for more than a pot of money. Gans would be fighting for his life.
After a private conversation between Rice and Sullivan, Gans’ new manager came back to tell him that he would have to prove his good intentions by turning over his end of the purse to the Sullivan team so that they could bet whatever they could get at the best odds. Gans had come into town with nothing hoping that he could win a little over $10,000. Now, the only thing he knew was that if he lost, he would lose his life.
Saturday, two days before the fight, Billy Nolan took issue in what Rickard saw as another scheme to stall the fight to worsen Gans’ perilously unstable physical condition. Nolan argued about the color of the canvas, and Rickard called his bluff by saying that he planned to give the canvas a light coat of dust and that what was good for one boxer would be good enough for the other. Rickard knew that Gans had gotten the short end of the deal and openly admitted that Gans had “exhibited the patience of an Arizona monk throughout these squabbles.”15
Sunday, September 2. The town was crowded and the stakes were high. Rooms had been sold out the week before. Miners poured in on burros and ponies and they slept on the ground, wrapped in blankets. Two hundred Pullman cars had been chartered to transport fight fans, one hundred of them on the Southern Pacific coming in from California, ma
ny of the cars serving as hotel rooms, limited as they were in the mining town. Dining cars well-stocked in libations substituted as saloons for the visiting sports.
Betting increased on the day of the fight. Rickard bet on Nelson. The Sullivan Trust had “wagered $45,000 on Gans against a total of $32,500 put up by the followers of Nelson.”16 It should be noted that this amount was considered peanuts to the Sullivan Trust. The company had within thirty days bought an interest in a mine, signed up the governor of the state to become president of the company in name, capitalized the mining company for 1,000,000 shares, sold them directly to the public, and used the profits to pay off the property and net $150,000. In the words of Rice, it “put the company on Easy Street again.”17
Expert opinion from fighters such as John L. Sullivan, Bob Fitzsimmons, Terry McGovern, Young Corbett, Tom O’Rourke, and George Considine held that Gans would win. Both fighters had legendary careers in the ring. Gans had already won over 100 fights, Nelson close to 50. In the days of no decision contests, Gans had won more than were recorded. The simple and most amazing fact was that Gans had won more battles than any boxer in the history of the world.18 The betting started at 10 to 8 and then moved to 10 to 7 in favor of Gans. Telegraph keys flew bets all over the country. Confidence ran high on both sides of the bets, but Gans was clearly the people’s prince and favorite. Miners bet heavily on Gans. New York actor Nat Goodwin, coming in from Ocean City, California, commented that he was willing to take two cases of wine against an automobile on Nelson. The largest individual bets laid down on the contest were denominated in mine stocks. Jim Riley, owner of the largest gambling casino of Tonopah, wagered 250,000 shares of a mining company, valued at $25,000, against 400 shares of a local Goldfield mine, with controlling interests in the companies resting on the outcome of the battle.
Nelson’s manager ran out of things to complain about, so he whined about suspicious betting around town. But Rickard and Esmeralda County Sheriff J.F. Bradley assured everyone that nothing was amiss. Gans’ camp assured everything was on the up and up. Rickard had long ago put Gans’ past reputation to bed, attributing his problems to a crooked jockey. Rickard had to quell suspicions, but his patience was running thin fearing the shenanigans that Nolan might pull. It was suspected that Nolan would try to stall the fight to further weaken Gans. According to boxing historian John McCallum, Nolan was trying to cause Gans to become so weak from the excessive weight loss that he would have to quit at the last minute.19
While Gans was running and sweating the weight off in a Turkish bath, Nelson was cool as a cucumber. Nolan had told him that Gans was going to quit and he told the press that his fighter didn’t need to train the day before since he weighed in at 131 pounds stripped. So Nelson spent the morning sightseeing on country roads.
Fight Day, Monday, Labor Day. The newspaper accounts all reported pretty much the same story. Boxing writers of that day were, if anything, meticulous to a fault. Never had they heard of three weigh-ins before a fight. First weigh in at noon: The weight limitation is 133 pounds. Gans weighs in at 133 stripped and Nolan protests. He says that Gans must weigh in with his fighting gear, shoes, gloves, and boxers. Sullivan tries to protest, but he had absolutely no experience dealing with professional managers in the fight game, and Nelson’s camp refuses to concede the requirement. At 2:30 Gans must make the weight in his fighting clothes. Gans speaks to the press: “I will win just as sure as the sun shines. Nolan and Nelson have shown right along that I am the one man in the ring that they fear, and even after the match was forced on them Nolan tried to crawl out of it by asking me to make a weight he thought I could not possibly do. I have given in on every point just to secure this match. I am betting everything I can get my hands on, and I have got to win. I will have the Dane chopped to pieces and asleep inside of 15 rounds.”20
On the morning of the biggest fight in history, September 3, 1906, at Goldfield, Nevada, the San Francisco Examiner carried cartoonist T.A. “Tad” Dorgan’s interpretation of Battling Nelson’s predicament. Nelson’s manager, Billy Nolan, must have perceived the same in that he tried to exact ever more concessions from Gans to force the fighter into conceding the match. Tad Dorgan became an authority on boxing. He was a prolific creator of phrases (including Joe Gans’ moniker, the “Old Master”) popular in the vernacular: “yes, we have no bananas,” “twenty-three, skidoo,” “for crying out loud,” “the cat’s meow,” and “drug-store cowboy.”
One-Thirty-Three Ringside. “Battling” Nelson gives his comments to the press: “I am going to give Gans an awful beating, and I think he will be begging for mercy long before the twentieth round is reached. I should not be criticized for asking him to make the weight in his togs, as he is a welterweight, and if he wants to fight for the lightweight championship he must make the recognized weight—133 at ringside—in togs. I will let Gans wear himself out, and then I’ll come through and get him. Watch me. There will be crepe in Coontown on Labor Day while the Danish descendants are celebrating.”21
At 2:30 P.M. Gans scales in at 133 pounds ringside, in full fighting togs. This was an enormous burden for Gans, who entered the ring in a weakened state. He had shaved every hair from his body and tied his shoes with thin strings to shave ounces from his total weight.
Tex Rickard announced to the officials that the sale of tickets was at $76,000, a world gate record for receipts. Moving into ringside seats were boxing celebrities and prominent socialites: Nat Goodwin, who as a result of coming to Goldfield had signed on with George Graham Rice to promote his mining stocks; Senator George Nixon of Nevada, president of the Nixon National Bank of Reno, who would partner after the fight with Wingfield to consolidate a mine merger that would capitalize $8 million of stock into $26.5 million, earning them $3.5 million of stock in fees and $1 million in direct profit; Charles Clark of Montana, lawyer to his father, Senator William Clark, the “Montana Copper King” who was involved in a million dollar bribery election scandal where he was kicked out and then reappointed to office; Boxer Jimmy Britt and Willie Britt; Harry Corbet; Jimmy Coffroth, number 1 promoter in the country before Rickard, and California boxing tycoon who would in 1916 build the Hippodrome Agua Caliente in Tijuana, where Sea Biscuit would win the Caliente Handicap in 1938; boxers Eddie Hanlon, Tim McGrath, Jack Grant and his brother Peter; referees Jack Welch and Eddie Graney; and many other political and sport luminaries.
2:40 Ringside. Battling Nelson enters the ring and Gans follows close behind, both men wearing heavy bathrobes. Point men for both camps join the group. Soon there is a flurry of action among the officials and the various law enforcement agents around the ring. Rickard is forced to tell each side that the timekeeper is nowhere to be found. Already frustrated with Nolan’s game-stalling antics, Rickard tries to accommodate both parties. Nolan objects to any Californian being selected. But when Rickard chooses Goldfield resident Bert Ulmer, the Gans camp objects, Sullivan having a bone to pick with the local boy. Word around the ring was that the betting was now 100 to 60 on Gans.
Gans Pre-empts the Double-Cross
Gans’ cool head at the last minute perhaps saved the bout from being fixed against him in a double-cross. He didn’t want his own manager to control the fight in any way. He turned to the newspaper men at ringside and told them that he wanted to make sure for the record that “he did not want any of his men to enter the ring or throw the sponge for him ... that the end would be only if Siler asked him if he had enough or was counted out.”22 The crowd cheered at Gans’ bravado and the assurance that Gans would not allow his untrustworthy manager Sullivan to double-cross him.
Realizing he was missing his cue, boxing manager Larry Sullivan, now club president, emcee and supposedly master of ceremonies, jumped into the ring to read telegrams sent to the match. From the famous John L. Sullivan: “Regret cannot see fight. It ought to be a corker. Regards to all my friends at the ringside. Please announce that I will match the winner for $10,000 aside, the men to fight in Goldfield.”23
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br /> Then he read what has become one of the most famous telegrams in all of sports, from Gans’ mother in Baltimore: “Joe, the eyes of the world are on you. Everybody says you ought to win. Peter Jackson will tell me the news, and you bring back the bacon.”24
The fighters shed their robes. Gans wore blue trunks and Nelson wore green with red, white, and blue ribbon. Sullivan announced that the men weighed 132½pounds each, and Nolan came out arguing that Gans should have been made to wear the bandages. When the crowd heard Gans’ response that he didn’t want any tape anyway, they cheered wildly. Then Gans flashed a handful of money to see if Nelson would take his bet “at any odds.” Nelson refused and Nolan threw a fit of objections. The ring was cleared.
Sullivan began, “Ladies and gentlemen: The battle will be for the lightweight championship of the world. There are about 300 deputy sheriffs in this town to preserve order and to be on the outlook for trouble.”25 The posse of sheriffs had dressed notably in their slouch hats, corduroy pants, and open vests displaying a variety of .45-caliber pistol handles from their well-worn holsters. Wanting to assert his authority over the crowd, he continued, “I warn you all against jumping into the ring during or after the fight.”26 The warning seemed unnecessary for the obviously well-behaved crowd.
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