Bare fists [antikvár]

PREFACEWhy a prize-fighting book? As a labour of love, certainly; as a challenge. Because I like telling stories from the beginning; because boxing has enriched my 40-odd years of life; because it has drawn me into it and helped me understand what little I do understand of the human spirit; and because boxers, for all the lies they tell in a ring, know the truth of human frailty as well as anyone. I am very proud that this is a book about boxing and boxing people. Contemporary material provided vital sources and previous works by other writers, which have already enriched the story of this peculiar piece of our sporting héritage, are acknowledged. HarperCollins have asked me to update the book to include the 20th Century. This has been a stränge task, as bare-knuckle boxing died out with the advent of gloves in the latter part of the 19th Century. It has remained in certain areas of British society, but as it is now very much against the law, it is an area shrouded in mystery and untruth - and to be honest, a far cry from the glory days of the Regency Era, or even that magnificent 'final fling', the Sayers-Heenan fight of 1860.1 confess to a sneering disinterest in fads like 'Ultimate Fighting', the silly club antics of those who would choose to imitate Brad Pitt's Fight Club movie, and fail to see any merits in the unlicensed scene which was prevalent in Britain from the 1970s onwards. The anti-heroes which these activities produced should not be confused with the great ring artists of the heyday of bare-knuckle boxing. Nevertheless, the story of bare-knuckle fighting did not die out overnight and therefore, as clownish as some of the modem heirs may seem, it is right to acknowledge their existence. Stories need to finish. I have also taken the opportunity, following a series of constructive reviews, to add in extra détails to the original text and a new chapter on the writers, patrons and supporters of the sport in its greatest days.Bob Mee, September 2000