Word: turpin
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When Sugar Ray Robinson lost his world middleweight crown in London two months ago to Britain's Randy Turpin, the question rose on both sides of the Atlantic: Was Robinson getting too old for the ring? (He is 31.) One evening last week 61,370 fight fans jammed into New York's Polo Grounds* to learn the answer. Though U.S. bettors had made ex-Champion Robinson a 2-to-1 favorite, there were plenty of skeptics and loyal Britons (including Ambassador Sir Oliver Franks, who wired his best wishes from Washington) who were sure that Randy would take...
...basis of two hard, short rights to Robinson's head. After this, the American begins piling up points. Round after round he does most of the moving, most of the punching. But it is not an altogether convincing performance. He throws too many punches and lands too few. Turpin seems to be pacing himself better. Although his right, with which he often leads, is a clumsy downward punch, his left is straight, hard, and quick. Several times Robinson's head snaps back from it: Both noses are red. In the third Robinson hits Turpin three times...
...eighth, an even round, the tide begins to turn. Turpin bounces around as though he has just begun the fight. In the ninth he lands some good lefts and takes his second round. Both fighters miss often. So far it is a tense, interesting, but not spectacular battle. The crowd is restless and a little disappointed...
...Almost before the audience knows what has happened, Robinson's left eye is a great blob of blood. So much of the blood is over Turpin that from the distance it looks as though he may be the one who is cut. Robinson seems to come to life, moves in savagely. He hurts Turpin badly and then knocks him flat on his back with a right to the jaw. The conclusion drawn from the first nine rounds--that Robinson could not hurt the champion--is proved wrong in an astonishing second. Every spectator is up on his feet, screaming. Turpin...
...Afterwards everyone stands around limply wondering how Turpin managed to stand up under the beating. "Him and Lamotta has de hahdest two haids in de world," a fan says, shaking his head. The standee is $270 poorer. His enthusiasm is gone. "Guess I hafta walk home," he mutters to no one in particular and starts down the long flight of stairs. The entertainment is over...