Sport: Snooks Wins

When Negro Heavyweight Ezzard Charles was a young boy in Cincinnati, he wanted to be a fighter like gentlemanly Joe Palooka; later his hero was Joe Louis. The trouble with Ezzard when he finally became a pro: it was a lot easier for him to match his models’ modest manners than their crunching punches.

A 28-year-old bachelor of quiet habits, who likes music and plays the bass fiddle himself, he had managed to outpoint Jersey Joe Walcott in a dull fight this summer (TIME, July 4). That made him heavyweight champion of the world in the eyes of the National Boxing Association (a title good in 47 states). Last week, as he squared off against tired old (34) Gus Lesnevich in Yankee Stadium, he was out to impress the big holdout: the powerful New York State Boxing Commission, whose chairman, Eddie Eagan, thought that Charles ought to prove himself further.

In the final days of training, Charles was reported to be peeved at Eagan, disturbed over the prospect of a small gate,* and annoyed over ruckuses among his backers. Among other indignities, sport-writers had taken to calling him “Snooks,” a nickname they thought aptly distinguished him from the “Maulers” and “Bombers” of the hard-punching past.

A few optimists in the Charles camp hoped that by fight night their man might be mean tempered enough to go after Gus with all guns smoking, but cautious, self-deprecating Ezzard Charles ran true to form. In the near 100° heat of the stadium, Charles fought his usual earnest, crafty and intelligent fight. He beat game old Gus about the head and body, danced out of range when his opponent tried to reach him with sledgehammer rights. Except for round six, when Lesnevich spent himself in a hammer & tongs attack, the fight was all Ezzard’s. When wornout, scar-tissued Gus Lesnevich, his face puffed and bleeding, failed to get off his stool for the eighth round, the fight went to Ezzard on a technical knockout. In spite of the human virtues which had denied Ezzard Charles the true killer instinct of the great fighter, he looked like the best heavyweight in the game.

* A skimpy $75,832, as it turned out, of which Charles and Lesnevich got $18,598 apiece.