(Photo by Keystone/Getty Images)

A series that explores the numbers behind the champions, and the stories behind the numbers. This month – Jack Dempsey. 

There’s little to say about Jack Dempsey that hasn’t already been said. He was one of the most famous faces of the 1920s and was largely responsible for boxing’s rise in popularity. With him in the spotlight, boxing nearly surpassed baseball as America’s top sport.

For generations to come, Dempsey was the embodiment of toughness, the king of thrills. Here’s his story, by the numbers …

seconds to destroy Fred Fulton 

Dempsey’s trademark was his explosive style. In July of 1918, he needed only 18 seconds to knock out Fred Fulton, a highly regarded heavyweight contender. “Fulton was carried to his corner … ,” reported the Dayton Daily News, “where he was drenched with a bucket of water and even then did not know what happened.”

bouts with Carl Morris

Dempsey once described Morris as “the only fighter I wanted to murder.” His dislike of “The Sapulpa Giant” stemmed back to early in his career when he’d served as Morris’ dollar-a-day sparring partner. Claiming Morris treated him badly, Dempsey held a grudge for years. 

He got his chance to fight Morris in San Francisco, 1917. Excited by the prospect of punching Morris’ face in, Dempsey pressed too hard and had to settle for an underwhelming four-round decision win. 

Even log walls weren’t safe from Dempsey. (Photo via Getty Images)

They fought a second time months later in Buffalo. This time, Dempsey punched Morris all over the ring for six rounds. When Morris could take no more, he hit Dempsey low to get himself disqualified. 

Later that year in New Orleans, Dempsey needed less than 50 seconds to knock Morris cold. According to most fight reports of the time, Morris was unconscious for four minutes. Police were needed to block customers from rushing the ring, all convinced that Morris was faking. In his autobiography, Dempsey acknowledged the satisfaction of seeing his former employer on his back. “I knew the bum wasn’t getting up,” he wrote. 

bouts during the nine-month span between the second and third Morris fights (Dempsey fought 21 times in 1918).

bouts with Willie Meehan 

Willie Meehan, a chubby, quirky heavyweight from San Francisco, gave Dempsey a lot of trouble in their five fights. They first met on March 28, 1917, in Emeryville, California (sometimes recorded as Oakland). Meehan, with his silly, slapping style, managed to win a four-round decision.

In July of that year, Dempsey avenged the loss in the same venue, also by four-round decision. According to newswire reports of the day, Dempsey staggered Meehan a couple of times during the bout and won the decision with “hard and consistent punching throughout the contest.” 

The inimitable Willie Meehan. (Photo via Getty Images)

In August, they moved their rivalry to San Francisco’s Dreamland Rink, where they fought back-to-back four-round draws. The bouts were dullish, with Dempsey doing most of the serious hitting while Meehan did a lot of slapping and, as The San Francisco Bulletin called it, “hippopotamus hopping.” 

That should’ve been the end of the Dempsey-Meehan squabble, but they met again in San Francisco in 1918. The bout was purportedly an exhibition for a charity drive, and Dempsey claimed he hadn’t taken it seriously. To his surprise, it was recorded as an official contest. Meehan got the “W” by four-round decision. Such a thing would be calamitous to modern fighters, but a fluke loss to the comical Meehan didn’t hurt Dempsey’s ascent to the title. “I got careless with Willie Meehan,” Dempsey said later. 

After five chances, Dempsey was 1-2-2 against Meehan. In the future, journalists would overestimate the importance (and entertainment value) of these four-rounders, particularly writers in California where Meehan, “The Frisco Fat Boy,” was a cult hero. Over the years, Dempsey would describe Meehan as “a clown fighter,” but tricky. As for losing their final encounter, Dempsey wrote in his autobiography, “The decision didn’t hurt me. It was a benefit, and I was too far along to be concerned.”

years as heavyweight champion 

With his demolition of Jess Willard in Toledo, Ohio on July 4, 1919, Dempsey helped usher in what many call the “golden age of sports” in America. Dempsey would reign as heavyweight champion until September 1926. 

successful title defenses 

Modern fans may look at Dempsey’s meager five defenses over seven years and wonder what the fuss was about. But Dempsey was such a phenomenon, and his fights so exciting, that he didn’t have to fight often. He could earn money by making personal appearances, acting in movies or putting on exhibitions. Moreover, Dempsey’s promoter, Tex Rickard, and manager, Jack Kearns, were wary of overexposing the hottest property in sports. 

There could’ve been a sixth defense, for Dempsey spent much of 1924 and ’25 in negotiations for a bout with Harry Wills that never came off. Dempsey was willing, but Rickard was hesitant to match him with a Black challenger, fearing such a fight would inflame racial tensions in the country. In the meantime, Dempsey stayed in Hollywood and got a nose job. 

minutes for a jury to acquit Dempsey of draft-dodging 

In June 1920, Dempsey found himself in a San Francisco courtroom. He was charged with draft evasion during the First World War. Though Dempsey was exonerated, the trial was one of the most widely discussed events of the year. 

Dempsey went on a PR tour to improve his image after the accusations of draft-dodging. (Unfortunately, while trying to prove his blue-collar credibility in this photo-op, he forgot to remove his shiny new wingtip shoes.)

million-dollar gates  

There’d never been a million-dollar gate prior to Dempsey, and the first five such gates in the business all involved him between 1921 and 1927. His opponents for these events were Georges Carpentier, Luis Firpo, Gene Tunney (twice) and Jack Sharkey. Clearly, Dempsey was a money magnet. He drew crowds as no one had before him and few have since. 

Joe Louis had three gates that hit the million-dollar mark in his career, but it wasn’t until the 1960s and ’70s, with inflated ticket prices and the addition of closed-circuit theater coverage, that million-dollar gates became a regular occurrence. 

Read “Dempsey-Firpo: The Legend and The Lies”

seconds for Gene Tunney to rise

In Round 7 of the infamous “Long Count” fight in Chicago, Dempsey knocked Tunney to the canvas. As the crowd of more than 104,000 roared, it seemed Dempsey was on the verge of regaining the title he’d lost to Tunney a year earlier. But Dempsey ignored a new rule that said a fighter must go to a neutral corner in the advent of a knockdown. Instead, he hovered over Tunney, hoping to hit him some more. As referee Dave Barry struggled to move Dempsey away, Tunney took those few extra seconds to recover his senses. He went on to beat Dempsey on points over 10 rounds. It was estimated by looking at the film footage with a stopwatch that Tunney had taken 14 seconds to rise, though the speed of old-time cameras made it difficult to record the exact time.

stops on his exhibition tour 

Faced with financial difficulties after his retirement, Dempsey hit the road, putting on exhibitions. Between August of 1931 and September of 1932, he appeared across the United States and Canada. And these weren’t lighthearted sparring sessions; he occasionally knocked his opponents out, spurring talk that he was secretly planning a comeback. Legend has it that Dempsey quit the tour after looking bad against Kingfish Levinsky in Chicago. In fact, even though Kingfish outboxed him, Dempsey kept the exhibitions going for several more months. With these appearances, the old champ won the public over again, one city at a time. 

Read “Holding The Line” — The lineage of The Ring’s divisional championships, all the way back to Jack Dempsey: