Boxers and Film Stars

There are other sports in which people get injured the most obviously being boxing.  My Dad hated professional boxing because of the prevelance of brain damage but when I went to the veterinary college he advised me to join Pat Mulcany's gym, wear head gear and learn how to protect myself.   There I met the Ingle lads who were all involved in amateur boxing.  Two of them worked in the college laboratory and stables.  I became friendly with Jimmy the eldest of the popular family. After I qualified and came to Britain I was glad to hear that he had won bouts as a professional.  One day nearly twenty years later a client from Luton brought me a greyhound with a broken leg.  He also had a friend in his van.   I was so engrossed in getting the dog on to a stretcher and into position for the X-ray machine that I never recognised the friend as Jimmy until I had examined the film.    After I reduced the fracture we had much to talk about.

While I was a student the most famous boxer I got to know was Jack Doyle.   He was born in Cork in 1913.   At the age of sixteen he joined the Irish Guards and was stationed in south Wales where he learned to box.   He was six foot four and attracted attention wherever he went.   He won his first ten fights within two rounds by knocking his opponents out.      It was not just other boxers who came to watch him.  His good looks brought women to see him and to hear his melodious volice.  They were not bothered about his fights ending quickly; they learned that he would not leave the ring without entertaining them with a song.  Jack went on a tour of the United States to resurrect his career.  Jack retained his interest in singing and being matched fot fights but lost the will for the hard training involved in keeping fit. 

He did win a couple of minor bouts before being matched with Buddy Baer  (younger brother of the champion Max Baer) for a substantial purse.  He was knocked out in the first round.   When he returned he had got a taste for fine wine and had lost his focus on training.  His brilliant career was halted at White City in 1933 when he met the future Heavyweight Champion Jack Peterson.   Sadly for his growing number of fans he was disqualified for hitting below the belt.  He met Eddie Phillips in '38 at Harringway and lost again.  His fans still retained faith in him and when he met Phillips again at White City before war broke out  60,000 people came to see him one more time.  Once again he let them get home early after a song.

It was 1941 when I first met him.  I was in digs in Lower Mount Street.  The house was on the right hand side of the street leading to Blackrock.  The landlady was Miss Kerr and she kept five or six students.  For twenty six shillings a week she gave us a warm bed, breakfast and dinner.  I was not there long before we had surprising lodgers ----- none other than the 'Gorgeous Gael' Jack Doyle himself and wife Movita who had starred with Clark Gabel in 'Mutiny on The Bounty'.  The other students were shy about speaking to such illustrious names.   I spoke to them and soon developed a friendship.   After a few days while I was polishing my shoes Jack asked me if I would do theirs.   They were a bit muddy after a walk in Phoenix Park.   I had to wash them first and leave them by the fire for a few hours before I could hope to get a shine on them.   When I returned them next morning they were delighted that they looked new again.  Of course they were not half as delighted as I was when Movita gave me £5.  I remember Jack being persauded to try and get himself in condition for one last fight at Dalymount Park in 1942 but he was far from fit and did not last the first round.  However the crowd went home happy because he sang three songs.  After appearing on stage at the Theatre Royal in Dublin Jack and Movita went on a tour of Ireland and drew big crowds in many country towns.

While I was doing locums for British vets in 1947 I read in an Irish paper that the famous couple were among the record crowd at the Clark Cup coursing meeting.  Herewith the picture by courtesy of my friend Ann Marie O'Brien of the Greyhound and Sporting Press at Clonmel.  I must mention another true friend who writes for this newspaper.  He is the highly respected Gerry McCarthy.  There has been no greater authority in the greyhound world since the death of Edwards Clarke in Britain.  Gerry and his charming wife, Kay, had serious illnesses in the last year and everyone in greyhound sport wishes them a complete recovery.

Jack moved back to London and I lost touch with him until 1953.   One day I had a runner at Park Royal.   The R.M. told me in the weighing room that an old friend was upstairs and was looking forward to seeing me.   When I asked for his name he said with a smile  “He hasn’t changed and you’ll know him when you go in the bar.” I guessed it might be Jack.  I was right and he had the same old habits.   He did not offer me a drink so I knew he was skint.   Whenever he was in the money in our days in Mount Street he was generous whenever he was in funds.   The dog won the race and I had to stand Jack another drink.  I cant remember the dogs name but I know that his dam was Angie's Abbey.  I had bought her and her brother, Abbeyduff for small money because the dog had no tail.  It was thought that he was not able to turn.  In fact he was a close railer and he also won me a cup at a coursing meeting in Waterford.