Max Baer and Barney Ross by Jeffrey Sussman

Author:Jeffrey Sussman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: undefined
Publisher: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers
Published: 2012-04-13T04:00:00+00:00

Having already invested in Baer’s future, Lorimer enlisted a highly capable middleweight named Bob McAllister to tutor the young fighter, who turned out to be a good, although impatient, student. He would absorb what he thought necessary and discard the finer points. Nevertheless, from 1929, when he first fought Chief Caribou, to 1930, he won 23 fights, 19 by knockout. He lost two fights to more skillful opponents, Les Kennedy and Ernie Schaaf, both of whom he would defeat years later. He was not only developing a reputation as a fighter who could pack a wallop (the “Livermore Larruper,” the “Livermore Butcher Boy,” inter alia), but he was also becoming a magnet for beautiful young women who wanted to take the handsome hunk into their arms and beds. Fleischer writes, “For the girls were beginning to gang up on this enticing combination of Hercules and Adonis in the first of the amorous dramas, staging him as a ‘Squire of Dames.’”[6]

Throughout his boxing career, Baer was the guy who always wanted to party, to have a good time. He loved joking with both men and women, and could stand at a bar entertaining the crowd with humorous stories and comedic quips. Although a party animal, he was not a drunk. Max Baer Jr. said that his father would hold a drink in his hand, take a few sips, and never finish it. He would have the same glass in his hand at the end of a party that he had been holding at the beginning.

While bevies of nubile young women kept Baer’s testosterone flowing, he suffered an emotional defeat in August 1930 that almost KO’d his career. He was scheduled to fight Frankie Campbell for the Pacific Coast Championship. (Frankie’s real name was Francisco Camilli, and he was the brother of Dolph Camilli, a future brilliant first baseman for the old Brooklyn Dodgers who would be recorded as one of the best first basemen of the 1940s.) Campbell was well aware of Baer’s powerful right fist and diligently avoided extending his chin as a target. He managed to sidestep, duck, dance, bob and weave, and jerk away from most of Baer’s wild swings. At one point early in the fight, Campbell landed a solid punch that sent Baer to the canvas; Campbell then turned and walked back to his corner. There, he grinned and waved to his cheering fans.

Max scrambled to his feet and rushed at Campbell, who—hearing the pounding steps of his opponent coming from behind him—began to turn his head. It was too little, too late. Baer landed a powerful blow to one side of Campbell’s head. Campbell crumpled, like a dead marionette, to the canvas, lay there for a moment, and then regained his strength and slowly managed to get up just before the referee could count him out. Back in his corner, he said to his manager, “I feel like something has snapped in my head.” Nevertheless, using quick jabs and well-aimed rights, he skillfully outpointed Baer in the next two rounds.

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