Ear­li­er this week, Mike Sil­ver intro­duced read­ers to boxing’s for­got­ten Jew­ish cham­pi­ons of the ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry fea­tured in Stars in the Ring: Jew­ish Cham­pi­ons in the Gold­en Age of Box­ing: A Pho­to­graph­ic His­to­ry. Mike is guest blog­ging for the Jew­ish Book Coun­cil all week as part of the Vis­it­ing Scribe series here on The ProsenPeo­ple.

Ben­ny Leonard moved with the grace of a bal­let dancer and wore an air of arro­gance that belonged to roy­al­ty.” – Dan Parker

While research­ing the box­ing careers and lives of the 166 cham­pi­ons and con­tenders fea­tured in Stars in the Ring: Jew­ish Cham­pi­ons in the Gold­en Age of Box­ing: A Pho­to­graph­ic His­to­ry, I con­stant­ly found myself moved by the com­mit­ment and courage dis­played by these men as they strug­gled to mas­ter their unusu­al craft and suc­ceed in such an unfor­giv­ing sport. 

What I found remark­able was that a peo­ple with no ath­let­ic tra­di­tion to speak of, and who were per­ceived as lack­ing the qual­i­ties to suc­ceed in such a vio­lent and bru­tal sport, were able to pro­duce hun­dreds of out­stand­ing box­ers, includ­ing near­ly a dozen of whom rank among the great­est who ever lived. But if I had to choose just one of these box­ers on whom to focus, it would be the peer­less Ben­ny Leonard, light­weight cham­pi­on (135 pound weight lim­it) from 1917 to 1925

Ben­ny Leonard is uni­ver­sal­ly acknowl­edged to be among the ten great­est box­ers of all time. As a young 120-pound ama­teur grow­ing up on the Low­er East Side of New York, he was thin and lack­ing in strength. Out of neces­si­ty he devel­oped a speedy and elu­sive style in his ear­ly days as a box­er. As he matured and his frame filled out, Leonard devel­oped a pow­er­ful punch to go along with his superb box­ing skills. But no mat­ter how strong he became, Leonard always con­sid­ered his brain the most impor­tant weapon in his for­mi­da­ble arsenal. 

Leonard was the first Jew­ish sports super­star of the mass media age, and one of the first Jew­ish Amer­i­can pop cul­ture icons. He was writ­ten about and pho­tographed more than any oth­er Jew­ish enter­tain­er or artist of his day, and his whole­some appeal went beyond the sport of box­ing: he cul­ti­vat­ed the image of a good Jew­ish mama’s boy who hap­pened to be very good at punch­ing peo­ple for a liv­ing. It was Leonard’s boast that no oppo­nent could muss his hair in a fight. When Leo John­son, the country’s out­stand­ing black con­tender, attempt­ed to unnerve Leonard by muss­ing his patent-leather locks” dur­ing a clinch, the miffed cham­pi­on flat­tened him in less than two min­utes of the first round. (It was only the sec­ond time in over 150 bouts that John­son had been stopped).

Leonard con­stant­ly strove for per­fec­tion. In his all-con­sum­ing desire to under­stand and mas­ter the art of box­ing, he set about to decon­struct and ana­lyze vir­tu­al­ly every aspect of the sport. He also pos­sessed a warrior’s spir­it and was not averse, when the sit­u­a­tion called for it, to throw cau­tion to the wind and mix it up — but his nim­ble brain was always work­ing over­time, seek­ing out the weak­ness­es in his opponent’s style. When asked by the famous train­er Ray Arcel why as a world cham­pi­on he stud­ied four-round pre­lim­i­nary fight­ers spar­ring in the gym, Leonard replied, You can nev­er tell when one of those kids might do some­thing by acci­dent that I can use.” To sharp­en his alert­ness he would some­times spar with two box­ers at the same time; he stud­ied human anato­my and was always care­ful nev­er to waste a punch. The day after a fight he’d be back in the gym, talk­ing over tac­ti­cal mistakes. 

Leonard was well-spo­ken: he once chal­lenged philoso­pher Bertrand Rus­sell to a debate as to the mer­its of box­ing. He also took his respon­si­bil­i­ty as a rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the Jew­ish peo­ple seri­ous­ly, often box­ing exhi­bi­tions to ben­e­fit both Jew­ish and Catholic charities. 

Ben­ny Leonard retired as unde­feat­ed cham­pi­on in Jan­u­ary 1925, at the age of 28. His face bore few scars despite his 191 pro­fes­sion­al fights — a tes­ta­ment to his bril­liant defen­sive skills. A few days lat­er an edi­tor for the Hearst News­pa­pers wrote a col­umn claim­ing that Benny’s rep­u­ta­tion as cham­pi­on and his numer­ous char­i­ta­ble con­tri­bu­tions has done more to evoke the respect of the non-Jew for the Jew than all the bril­liant Jew­ish writ­ers combined.” 

For the next four years Ben­ny enjoyed the fruits of celebri­ty and wealth, appear­ing in vaude­ville and a Hol­ly­wood ser­i­al and invest­ing in var­i­ous busi­ness ven­tures using a por­tion of the near­ly one mil­lion dol­lars he earned in the ring. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, it all came to an end with the stock mar­ket crash in 1929 and the begin­ning of the Great Depres­sion: Leonard’s for­tune was wiped out and he was forced to make an ill-fat­ed come­back in 1931 at the age of 35

Of course there is more to this sto­ry, but the impor­tant part of the great fighter’s lega­cy had already been writ­ten a decade ear­li­er. Ben­ny Leonard will always remain the gold stan­dard for every box­er striv­ing to achieve per­fec­tion in the tough­est of all sports. 

Mike Sil­vers work as appeared in The New York Times, Ring mag­a­zine, Box­ing Month­ly, and else­where. He has served as an his­tor­i­cal con­sul­tant for 19 doc­u­men­taries and cura­tor for the 2004 exhib­it Sting Like a Mac­cabee: The Gold­en Age of the Amer­i­can Jew­ish Box­er” at the Nation­al Muse­um of Amer­i­can Jew­ish History.

Relat­ed Content:

Mike Sil­ver is an inter­na­tion­al­ly respect­ed box­ing his­to­ri­an and author whose work has appeared in The New York Times, Ring mag­a­zine, Box­ing Month­ly and var­i­ous web sites. He was his­tor­i­cal con­sul­tant for nine­teen doc­u­men­taries and cura­tor for the 2004 exhib­it Sting Like a Mac­cabee: The Gold­en Age of the Amer­i­can Jew­ish Box­er” at the Nation­al Muse­um of Amer­i­can Jew­ish History.