The last of a dying breed.
Photographer Matt Hoyle created a series called Fighters in which he tried to capture the “fighting spirit which stays within” ageing fighters. Some of the fighters had previously fought against each other, back in their day, and Hoyle wanted to “give a dignity to them and let their power shine through”, while at the same time “wanted their vulnerability from years by to show.” Really compelling.
Ruby was a big fan of boxing. In the ’50s and ’60s, she had a small room turned into a den, with the only TV in the house, and on the night of a fight, she’d sit on the edge of the couch, yelling and swinging along with the boxers in her little shirtwaist dress. Granddad took Ruby took a boxing match only once, in the 1940s, and she was loudly rooting for the boxer the man in front of her was against. He turned around and said, “Lady, you need to shut up!” so she socked him across the face with her handbag. Granddad pulled her out of the match and never took her back.
After retiring from the ring, Bat (short for Battling; aka the Durable Dane, born Oscar Nielsen) dabbled in fight promotion and vaudeville. In January 1954, “a pathetic little man of 80 pounds, his mind a complete blank,” Bat was committed to the Chicago State Hospital; a month later he was dead of lung cancer at age 71. With 68 wins, 19 draws and 19 losses, Bat once said that although he had “lost several fights,” he had never been beaten.
“You’d think that as a heavily tattooed boxer with a mohawk, cruiserweight Juan Carlos Robles would be maxed out on badass cred. Well, not quite. Robles wears a necklace… made from his own finger. THAT HE CUT OFF HIMSELF.
Following a 2007 motorcycle wreck that left him with a broken kneecap, fractured forearm, and dislocated elbow, Robles didn’t have the insurance coverage to amputate a pinkie finger that was mangled by road rash… So he went home, put towels over the kitchen table and blocked off a working area with several two-by-fours. He put gauze around the area and twisted soldering wire around his right pinkie to slow the flow of blood. “Then I put a wood chisel on it and dropped a 15-pound weight on the chisel,” Robles said. “The piece shot out about six feet like a missile.”
(via BAD. ASS.)
[thanks, jeff, you sick sonuva…]
had to reblog to get the photo!