Billy Conn was Irish. And How!
Pittsburgh had entered and subsequently
passed through most of the depression, and things were changing. But in spite
of the growing economy, life was hard, and most men worked in the local steel
mills.
Billy was intent on avoiding the fate of the thousands. As a young man, his mother introduced him to violin lessons. And the boy regularly walked out of his home with the violin case under his arm, only to wind up in a nearby boxing establishment. It wasn't long before Mom found out where her money was being spent.
Billy’s mother didn’t seem too surprised,
and only asked him to do his best in whatever he chose to do with his life.
His boxing exploits began “a little
rough,” but his abilities grew in leaps and bounds, and he quickly moved up
“through the ranks” of local fighters. Ultimately, he became the Light
Heavyweight Champion of the World. But that wasn’t enough for him.
Joe Lewis was at his peak form at the
time, and was The Heavyweight
Champion. Joe had been the first black man to hold the title in almost half a
century, and his demeanor and manners were “a tribute to his race.”
Though Joe outweighed Billy by thirty
pounds, Conn was intent “to get a shot” at the ultimate boxing title. The
battle was arranged, and “the day dawned.”
Billy stumbled a bit in the first few
rounds, trying to get his footing, and to acclimate to such a heady
opportunity. Joe pummeled him viciously, and the fans expected it to be “an
open and shut case.” Were they ever wrong!
The Irishman regained his composure, and
fought back valiantly. The tide began to change! Billy was ahead in points as
he entered the 13th round, and only “the unexpected” would keep him
from claiming the title. Unfortunately for Conn, the unexpected occurred.
For as he entered the ring for the fateful
13th time, he told his trainer that he was bound to knock Joe Lewis
out. The old man grimaced, “But you’re ahead on points, lad. Don’t do it.
You’re on your own if you insist on killing yourself.”
The Fighting Irishman couldn't leave well enough alone. He came out slamming the air like a mad bull. But though Joe had almost succumbed to the Light Heavyweight's fists, he was professional enough to seize an opportunity.
Billy got careless, and fatigue began to
set in. His arms began to droop a bit, and the World Champion hit Billy hard;
again, and again. And Billy went down. And the rest, as they say, is history.
So close to the prize, but so far away.
Obviously, the careless Irishman was
humbled by the experience, and he vowed to fight Lewis again another day. Time
went by, and World War II approached. Then the opportunity came again. The two
champions were scheduled to fight within weeks, when “the unexpected happened”
…again.
Conn and his Father-in-Law never had much
use for one another, and one particular day the feud reached it’s boiling
point. Billy was so outraged, over a matter that has long since been forgotten,
that he “popped” the old boy in “the kisser.” But when he drew his fist back in,…
it was broken. The long awaited rematch with Joe Lewis had to be postponed ‘til
after the War.
The war years put weight on the brash
contender, and his polish and strength had waned. Oh, the rematch occurred, but
Conn went down in the eighth round. It was the end of his proverbial line.
Opportunities are SO precious. Some opportunities come once, and they vanish away
like a fog. Our hero had three opportunities, and for lack of a better phrase,…
“blew it.” And not to diminish his heroism, courage and ability; these were
royally present with him. But when the magic moment arrived, unfortunately he
“gave away the farm.”
We must take advantage of the
opportunities that come. I think God puts a premium on those magic moments, and
lays “Great Expectations” on us at “such a time as this.”
As Pope John Paul II put it, as he spoke
to an American crowd of young people… “I believe in you. I believe you were
destined to be great.”
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