GorDoom
03-29-2006, 02:28 PM
Rinty's legendary king's hall victory
Down memory lane with Malcolm Brodie from The Belfast Telegraph
It was just a chance lunch time meeting at the corner of North Street and Royal Avenue.
"I've thrown in the heap," said noted boxing manager Frank McAloran. Baffled I asked him what was he talking about.
"The titles - all gone," he replied.
McAloran, former Irish featherweight champion, most pragmatic of men and not a self-seeking publicist, was returning from visiting British Boxing Board of Control Ulster secretary Jack Woodhouse with the sensational news his protege Rinty Monaghan had relinquished FOUR flyweight titles - World, European, Empire and British.
"You're kidding - that can't be true," I said.
"No, if he cannot breathe he cannot fight - it is as simple as that," confirmed Frank who had watched him repeatedly struggle during training on the Cave Hill.
Yet, a few years earlier he was a physical fitness fanatic working in the Belfast shipyard, doing four mile runs, chopping down trees, swallowing a couple of raw eggs at a farmhouse then washing them down with a pint of goat's milk.
There was disbelief when the story appeared in The Belfast Telegraph that night. Monaghan had developed sinus and pulmonary problems after he had won the world title on an epic night at the King's Hall on March 23, 1948.
Promoter Bob Gardiner, who with George Connell, brought big-time boxing to Belfast during the 40s and 50s succeeded against the odds in getting Scotland's Jackie Paterson to defend his title against Monaghan in Belfast.
What a coup but the grapevine indicated southpaw Paterson, a product of the famous Anderston Club, Glasgow, had difficulty making the weight; he walked the streets at 9st4lbs and fought in the ring at 8stone.
Paterson's entourage on the eve of the fight, was holed up in the basement of Glasgow, West End house where the boxer sat in front of a blazing fire with the training woollens on, perspiration pouring from him and, eventually after painstaking hours, he squeezed five and half pounds from a shrivelled body.
Paterson made the weigh-in five minutes late and, fortunately, came in just below the stipulated poundage.
And so the scene was set for Rinty to write a chapter of Irish boxing history against the Scot who had won and lost against the Ulsterman in two previous fights.
This was now the unification battle. Whoever won was the champion of the world.
Paterson, pale and gaunt, took a seven count with a left hook in the second after some cautious sparring. He knew his only tactic was to get it over quickly as the stamina drained from his body. He pushed forward and caught Rinty with a right - the only moment of threat.
This was how Johnny Caughey (The Timekeeper), then boxing correspondent of this newspaper, described the seventh and final round: "It opened with Paterson landing a crisp two-handed volley to Monaghan's head. Rinty retreated momentarily and the Scot, probably thinking he had dazed his opponent, went forward to consolidate his score.
"That was the opening for which Monaghan had been waiting. He answered with a full-power right hook to the chin, Paterson being spreadeagled for a nine count. In the 10,000 crowd's roar over this match-winning punch the count was barely audible but Paterson staggered groggily to his feet just beating the toll.
"He was practically defenceless and Monaghan, pouncing for the kill, caught him in a corner with a shower of lefts and rights to Paterson's unprotected chin until he gradually slumped unconscious to a sitting position in which he was counted out. Ireland had its first world champion since Jimmy McLarnin in 1934 and first home-based boxer to become a world title-holder."
I left ringside and caught a taxi to Rinty's home at 32 Little Corporation Street. Bonfires were lit throughout Sailor Town. "We want Rinty" shouted the ever increasing crowd of fans but it was two hours later before Rinty arrived to start the sporting party of all time in Dockland.
After defeating Italian Otello Belardini in a non-title bout, Monaghan successfully defended his title against London's Terry Allen at the King's Hall in September, 1949.
Rinty, the name came from wonder dog Rin Tin Tin who starred in many films, sang "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling", "I'm Forever Chasing Rainbows" and "Hello Patsy Fagan" at the end of each fight and later, despite failing health, entered the cabaret scene with his Popeye act and then got a number of menial jobs while Paterson was stabbed in a drunken pub brawl in South Africa, 1966, dying penniless and psychologically wrecked. A sad end, far from the roar of that King's Hall crowd.
Rinty's last job was a petrol attendant at the Shamrock Garage near the Corporation Street Labour Exchange. One day a local radio station announced he had died in Belfast but before we started producing his obituary I asked one of our reporters to check it out.
When he arrived at the garage, there was the bold Rinty whistling and pouring petrol into a car.
The cub reporter said to Rinty "Malcolm asked me to check if you had died!" Rinty retorted: "Tell him I'll give him advance warning so when it happens he can have the first lift!"
That was typical of John Joseph Monaghan who lived life to the full and enjoyed every minute of it. He had no enemies. When he died on March 3, 1984, at the age of 63, fans turned out in their thousands to pay their final respects.
Down memory lane with Malcolm Brodie from The Belfast Telegraph
It was just a chance lunch time meeting at the corner of North Street and Royal Avenue.
"I've thrown in the heap," said noted boxing manager Frank McAloran. Baffled I asked him what was he talking about.
"The titles - all gone," he replied.
McAloran, former Irish featherweight champion, most pragmatic of men and not a self-seeking publicist, was returning from visiting British Boxing Board of Control Ulster secretary Jack Woodhouse with the sensational news his protege Rinty Monaghan had relinquished FOUR flyweight titles - World, European, Empire and British.
"You're kidding - that can't be true," I said.
"No, if he cannot breathe he cannot fight - it is as simple as that," confirmed Frank who had watched him repeatedly struggle during training on the Cave Hill.
Yet, a few years earlier he was a physical fitness fanatic working in the Belfast shipyard, doing four mile runs, chopping down trees, swallowing a couple of raw eggs at a farmhouse then washing them down with a pint of goat's milk.
There was disbelief when the story appeared in The Belfast Telegraph that night. Monaghan had developed sinus and pulmonary problems after he had won the world title on an epic night at the King's Hall on March 23, 1948.
Promoter Bob Gardiner, who with George Connell, brought big-time boxing to Belfast during the 40s and 50s succeeded against the odds in getting Scotland's Jackie Paterson to defend his title against Monaghan in Belfast.
What a coup but the grapevine indicated southpaw Paterson, a product of the famous Anderston Club, Glasgow, had difficulty making the weight; he walked the streets at 9st4lbs and fought in the ring at 8stone.
Paterson's entourage on the eve of the fight, was holed up in the basement of Glasgow, West End house where the boxer sat in front of a blazing fire with the training woollens on, perspiration pouring from him and, eventually after painstaking hours, he squeezed five and half pounds from a shrivelled body.
Paterson made the weigh-in five minutes late and, fortunately, came in just below the stipulated poundage.
And so the scene was set for Rinty to write a chapter of Irish boxing history against the Scot who had won and lost against the Ulsterman in two previous fights.
This was now the unification battle. Whoever won was the champion of the world.
Paterson, pale and gaunt, took a seven count with a left hook in the second after some cautious sparring. He knew his only tactic was to get it over quickly as the stamina drained from his body. He pushed forward and caught Rinty with a right - the only moment of threat.
This was how Johnny Caughey (The Timekeeper), then boxing correspondent of this newspaper, described the seventh and final round: "It opened with Paterson landing a crisp two-handed volley to Monaghan's head. Rinty retreated momentarily and the Scot, probably thinking he had dazed his opponent, went forward to consolidate his score.
"That was the opening for which Monaghan had been waiting. He answered with a full-power right hook to the chin, Paterson being spreadeagled for a nine count. In the 10,000 crowd's roar over this match-winning punch the count was barely audible but Paterson staggered groggily to his feet just beating the toll.
"He was practically defenceless and Monaghan, pouncing for the kill, caught him in a corner with a shower of lefts and rights to Paterson's unprotected chin until he gradually slumped unconscious to a sitting position in which he was counted out. Ireland had its first world champion since Jimmy McLarnin in 1934 and first home-based boxer to become a world title-holder."
I left ringside and caught a taxi to Rinty's home at 32 Little Corporation Street. Bonfires were lit throughout Sailor Town. "We want Rinty" shouted the ever increasing crowd of fans but it was two hours later before Rinty arrived to start the sporting party of all time in Dockland.
After defeating Italian Otello Belardini in a non-title bout, Monaghan successfully defended his title against London's Terry Allen at the King's Hall in September, 1949.
Rinty, the name came from wonder dog Rin Tin Tin who starred in many films, sang "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling", "I'm Forever Chasing Rainbows" and "Hello Patsy Fagan" at the end of each fight and later, despite failing health, entered the cabaret scene with his Popeye act and then got a number of menial jobs while Paterson was stabbed in a drunken pub brawl in South Africa, 1966, dying penniless and psychologically wrecked. A sad end, far from the roar of that King's Hall crowd.
Rinty's last job was a petrol attendant at the Shamrock Garage near the Corporation Street Labour Exchange. One day a local radio station announced he had died in Belfast but before we started producing his obituary I asked one of our reporters to check it out.
When he arrived at the garage, there was the bold Rinty whistling and pouring petrol into a car.
The cub reporter said to Rinty "Malcolm asked me to check if you had died!" Rinty retorted: "Tell him I'll give him advance warning so when it happens he can have the first lift!"
That was typical of John Joseph Monaghan who lived life to the full and enjoyed every minute of it. He had no enemies. When he died on March 3, 1984, at the age of 63, fans turned out in their thousands to pay their final respects.