Paul F. Kennedy
There has never been a fighter like Billy Conn. Handsome as a movie star and tough as a junkyard dog, Conn threw combinations with the beauty and speed of later masters Sugar Ray Robinson and Muhammad Ali. The kid from the East Liberty section of Pittsburgh began boxing professionally at age 16, as his manager Johnny Ray fed him older, more experienced pros in a “baptism of fire.” Conn developed quickly. At age 19 and 20 he defeated most of the world’s best middleweights, a division rich with talent. Still growing, by age 21 he won the world light-heavyweight title. After dominating that division, he sought greater challenge in the heavyweight division. He beat three of the best heavyweights, one by knockout and two by easy decision. Only one challenge remained - the great heavyweight champion Joe Louis. Their first fight remains one of boxing’s all-time classics, ranked by some as the greatest fight ever.
Conn’s story transcends boxing. He pursued and eloped with the love of his life, the beautiful Mary Louise Smith, despite her father’s vehement and public opposition. Conn and his father-in-law tangled in a chaotic brawl at a lavish christening party at the Smith home. Billy starred in a Hollywood movie, The Pittsburgh Kid, and developed friendships with big stars like Bob Hope, Robert Taylor, and Frank Sinatra.
Through all the glamour Billy remained the unpretentious “kid” from gritty Pittsburgh, the city he loved. He became an icon of that city, of the downtrodden Depression-era working class, and of the American Irish.
Conn’s place in boxing and American folk history has been neglected and forgotten in recent decades. His story of a poor kid with talent and spirit who went for it all is one worth reading.
Pittsburgh native Paul F. Kennedy has written over 60 articles for the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, mostly about local history, including Pittsburgh’s impressive boxing history. He has published articles, poetry, and short fiction in such diverse publications as Boxing Digest, Loyalhanna Review, Laurel Highlands Scene, Miraculous Medal, and Pittsburgh Quarterly. In 2001 he published A Pittsburgh Gamble, a novel that takes place in Pittsburgh during the 1960 Pirate-Yankee World Series.
Paul is a graduate of Central Catholic High School in Pittsburgh and Indiana University of Pennsylvania. He has a master’s degree from Carnegie Mellon University. He currently lives with wife Patricia in Greensburg, Pennsylvania.
As a child, Paul heard tales of the days of the great Pittsburgh boxers, of the time when the Pittsburgh area owned five of the eight world titles between 1939 and 1941. He heard of how Fritzie Zivic won the title from Henry Armstrong, and of how Charley Burley was the best fighter never to hold a title. But the most heralded legend was of how an undersized Billy Conn, young, handsome, and talented, had the great Joe Louis beat, only to lose by getting too cocky and trying to knock him out. As a teenager in Pittsburgh’s Point Breeze section, Paul witnessed Conn, who lived in nearby Squirrel Hill, taking long solo walks through the neighborhood. Though elderly at the time, Conn still had a rugged look and formidable physical presence.
Paul has had the good fortune to gain access to the Conn family’s vast treasure of information about Billy’s life and career. Billy Conn - the Pittsburgh Kid, his first biography, is the result.
Fifty-five thousand fans at the Polo Grounds were on their feet screaming for Billy Conn and Joe Louis in one of the greatest fights in boxing history. Conn, the "Pittsburgh Kid," had come to symbolize the city of his birth, that archetypal heartland furnace, city of smoke and grime. Pittsburgh, like America, had endured twelve years of the heartbreaking Great Depression, but its hero Billy Conn was a shining beacon of hope. He was handsome - beautiful even - with looks that put movie stars to shame. He found fame and fortune in New York, but he always came home, and he always would. He had beaten everybody they threw at him. Time after time the experts said he wasn't ready, that he was in over his head. Time after time he had proven them wrong. At age 19 and 20 he beat all of the best middleweights in their prime. At 21 he won the world light-heavyweight championship, and dominated the division so thoroughly that he had to fight heavyweights to find a challenge. Though barely 170 pounds, he had beaten the heavyweight contenders with ease. He was still only 23. They said he could never beat Joe Louis, perhaps the greatest heavyweight champ of all time. He was proving them wrong again. He had taken the fight to Louis for twelve thrilling rounds, baffling him with speed, beating him up inside, taking the big man's punches, even staggering him in the previous round. Billy had scaled just 169 that morning to 200 for Louis, yet it was Louis who was hurt, and losing.
At her home in Pittsburgh Billy's mother Maggie lay in bed dying of cancer, praying hard for him. Four miles away in a Manhattan hotel his beloved Mary Louise, whose family wouldn't let her marry him, stood in the bathroom with the shower turned on because she could no longer bear to listen. At Forbes Field they stopped the Pittsburgh Pirates game to broadcast the fight over the Public Address system.
In the corner before the thirteenth round Johnny Ray, his trainer and manager, told him to stay away, to sit on his lead - three more rounds and the heavyweight title, the "greatest prize in sports" - was his. Ray, a grizzled and scarred veteran of many ring wars, had found him in the streets of East Liberty and taught him to box. But the kid had inborn talent that couldn't be taught - speed, toughness, the will to win, and overwhelming confidence.
The bell rang for the thirteenth round. "Stay away from him!" "Stick and move!" "Play it safe!" his corner men yelled. Play it safe? That's one thing the cocky Irisher had never done. He put in his mouthpiece and declared, "I'm gonna knock him out!"
