George LaBlanche, The Marine, Died in Lawrence

George LaBlanche, The Marine

Born George Blais in Point Levi, Quebec on December 19, 1856, George LaBlanche, as he became known, would go on to boxing infamy with a famous illegal maneuver named the “Pivot Punch.” Although slight in size, 5ft 6 inches tall and weighing between 140 to 160 pounds, LaBlanche was powerfully built, good with both hands and began his career fighting men in the heavyweight class. He was scrappy and he was fearless having learned much of his trade in rough lumber camps and later the Canadian military. In 1883 he joined the US Marines at Charlestown, MA and thereafter he was known in the ring as “The Marine.”

On June 11, 1884, LaBlanche was discharged from the USMC and began travelling to rings around the country in earnest. His record doesn't elaborate on why the Marines found him unfit for service.

The Marine's Discharge Papers

His boxing career lasted about 15 years and was sporadically interrupted by time spent in jail for a variety of petty offenses. LaBlanche’s career coincided with the sport’s move away from bare knuckle fighting to fighting with gloves under the Queensbury rules. In August of 1889, George LaBlanche met up with the six year Middleweight title-holder, Jack “The Nonpareil” Dempsey in San Francisco. This was to be a Championship of the World title fight but LaBlanche weighed one pound over the limit so it was declared a non-title bout. Dempsey had the lead for much of the fight, and it was somewhere in the 26^th round (yes, you read that correctly…fights would drag on till one person couldn’t get up) that LaBlanche first used his Pivot Punch on Dempsey, this time hitting him in the neck to no avail. The Pivot Punch, as it has been described, is a punch delivered by spinning like a top…the puncher would miss with a left, spin on around and smack the punchee with a fierce right, using the power of momentum. A  punch like this would be similar to hitting someone with a sledgehammer or baseball bat. In the 32^nd round, LaBlanche delivered his second Pivot Punch and Dempsey went down for a long, long time. It has been said that Lablanche learned the punch, which had never been ruled illegal before this fight, from a British pugilist named Jimmy Carroll.

The Pivot Punch, or the Lablanche Swing was quickly ruled illegal, and although there was no way, on so many levels, that LaBlanche could be ruled a champion, he managed to claim the title whenever possible. The boxing world would remain stunned by this fight for many years to come.

Rules were a bit more fluid then, and he rode high for a while on the fame, but it would appear either that sudden fame got to be too much, or that he was unofficially sanctioned by the professional boxing community. George’s career began a downward trajectory. It was reported that he kicked an opponent during one fight and his life out of the ring got even more chaotic.

A year prior to his match up with Dempsey, LaBlanche had done some jail time (3 months) for promoting a brutal prizefight between two women in Buffalo. The seven round fight lasted an hour and a half and it was said that “both women were severely punished.”

LaBlanche limped along, fighting here and there until 1900 when his professional career officially ended. He would be arrested on a regular basis and given that his name was well known, his indiscretions would make the national papers. Robbing fellow drunks was the most common offence committed by LaBlanche. In 1908 a reporter from the Fitchburg Sentinel was called to the police station in that city, a beat cop had arrested a rather odorous individual with no means of support who had arrived by train in Fitchburg. LaBlanche regaled his growing audience with tales of his days in the big rings and “sprang from his bench and illustrated the celebrated so-called pivot punch.” He also told his audience that he had been roaming the country since his 1889 fight with Dempsey, and couldn’t remember how or when he arrived in Fitchburg. The reporter showed some heart when he said:  “His (LaBlanche) plight is another instance of the changes the beset a man throughout his life, for in the  George LaBlanche who sits in the cell at the central station, few would recognize “The Marine” who once pushed his way towards the middleweight championship and was winning money by the handful.” (Fitchburg Sentinel, 12/19/1908)

Reports would surface periodically about LaBlanche spending time drying out in Tewkesbury but on May 3, 1918, at age 62 George LaBlanche passed away in the Municipal Hospital in Lawrence. George’s visits to Lawrence happened because his sister, Adeline Gagnon, lived in Lawrence with her husband, Esdras. The Evening Tribune reported: “LaBlanche had been a frequent visitor to Lawrence. Several times he has been reported dead but he appeared shortly after to prove he was still very much alive.” His sister Adeline was a well-respected church lady at St. Anne's.

What happened afterwards speaks well of the character of Lawrencians and the deep affection they have always displayed for their athletes, (and LaBlanche had become one of their own by this time): the ex Mayor William White made a “stirring appeal” at a Boston fight for funds to help bury the indigent Marine. $177 was raised and applied toward burying LaBlanche here in the Sacred Heart Cemetery. A mass was held at St. Anne’s and officiated by Father Henri Girard. White served as a pallbearer along with fight promoters Billy Bell, James Crilley, Alderman Maloney, Eugene McCarthy and B.J. Keaveny.

(I went looking for the grave at the Sacred Heart Cemetery in Andover and ended up contacting the Boston Archdiocese who keeps records for this cemetery. LaBlanche is listed as being buried in the family plot which is marked with a simple flat stone inscribed Gagnon, his married sister's last name.)

George LaBlanche never fought professionally in Lawrence but would often pass through they city during his later years. He was a scrappy fighter, an underdog and a bit of an eccentric – qualities that Lawrencians found endearing. Although he wasn’t a homegrown hero, he brought the best of Lawrence boxing together in 1918 to honor him and celebrate his life.

If you'd like a more in depth profile of George LaBlanche click here for an excellent one by Lou Eisen.

Special thanks to BoxingTreasures.com and Dan Cuoco of IBRO for making their LaBlanche photos available.

Note: Pivot Blow First Freak Punch Barred – “During the unlamented bare knuckle days, true

boxing skills were limited. It was punch and pull, tug and wrestle, a round finished when one

of the fighters hit the turf, the pace inevitably slow, the number of rounds and elapsed time

often incredible. Then came gloves, with John L. Sullivan ousted by the clever Jim Corbett,

with Bob Fitzsimmons in the offing and Jim Jeffries in the wings. The armory of the

professional fighter began to grow in the 1880s, when George LaBlanche, the Marine,

introduced the pivot blow. …. It was so difficult to acquire that the fistic poobahs decided to

make it illegal. On August 27, 1889, LaBlanche knocked out the great Jack Dempsey, The

Nonpareil, in the 32nd round for the middleweight championship. However, leading fight

writers of the time refused to recognize LaBlanche as the new titleholder. They decided that

he had used the pivot blow, for some time barred,and they also held that the Marine had

been overweight. Dempsey, they insisted, had not lost his championship. However, the fight

did accomplish the demise of the pivot blow as a professional weapon. Since LaBlanche’s time

nobody has tried to beat the law by reviving it. Nobody would know how. LaBlanche

accomplished the pivot blow by using the heel as a pivot, holding out the arm and swinging

around at full force. The impact was terrific. The Marine said that he hit upon the pivot while

fooling around in training. Many a ring stratagem has been mastered in that manner. The

pivot blow is listed as the freak of freak punches in the professional category. Most of these

freaks are barred by the rules.”

Source: Dan Daniel, The Ring, December 1973, page 32

World Lightweight Title Fight held in Lawrence, MA January 14, 1887

In 1887, a rich, retired doctor used his clout to bring a world title fight to a blacksmith’s shop in Lawrence, Massachusetts.

Lawrence was spanking new when Aaron Ordway arrived in 1847 and like many other country boys he came seeking fortune and excitement.

Bottle from the Joe Bella Collection/photo by Kevin Harkins

Ordway was a respected physician but his fortune came from selling health elixirs like the pictured Dr. Ordway’s Pain Destroyer. Ordway was also a serious boxing fan.

Harry Gilmore

In the winter of 1887, Canadian lightweight champion Harry Gilmore and his US counterpart, Jack McAuliffe were stuck in a Boston tavern, waiting for someone to find a venue safe from a sheriff’s interference. For different reasons, talk of their title fight had both fans and the law very excited.

Jack McAuliffe

During the late 1800s, prizefighting was akin to kidnapping and pugilists could be arrested just for showing up in town. Moneymen became very creative in avoiding detection and many famous fights occurred on barges, in barns and in well-hidden woods. Fighters would hide out in their rooms and the one weigh-in would often happen days before the fight.

Much in the sporting world assumed the fight would take place in Boston. Ordway's plan for providing a secure venue  persuaded nervous promoters to take the fight up north. On a Friday night, January 14^th, 1887 two horse drawn sleighs brought Gilmore and McAuliffe to Morris’ Blacksmith Shop on the corner of Broadway and Methuen Streets. Upstairs from the actual blacksmith shop was a large office-type room used by the Lawrence chapter of the Salvation Army. The group held their revival-style meeting in the office above and their singing blotted out the sound of punches landing on flesh.

Star Taxi, formerly the George A. Morris, Horse Shoer , 15 Broadway

The few who were privy to the location made their way to Lawrence traveling solo and used varied routes. Forty-three men paid between $10 to $25 to watch the fight and most were out-of-town movers and shakers.  The windows were covered up with black cloth and all were instructed to make no noise. Instead of a raised platform,  the ring was outlined with a clothesline. Both men wore skintight gloves, which were meant to protect a boxer’s hands and not their opponent’s faces.

There was a brief scare at the start of the match when two uninformed blacksmiths actually showed up to work. Luckily, the smithies weren’t snitches and were thrilled to be included.

Fights in 1887 lasted as long as the fighters were still standing and in this case it took 28 two minute rounds, over an hour and 52 minutes. Gilmore and McAuliffe inflicted a great amount of damage on each other and the fight was of similar stature to the modern day epic battles of DeMarco vs. Basilio or Ward vs. Gatti . By the 28^th round, McAuliffe’s eyes were so tightly swollen shut that he was fighting on instinct while Gilmore, not as badly marked up, could barely stand. A blind, wobbly McAuliffe managed to land a knock out punch in round 28.

McAuliffe passed a hat around to collect money for Gilmore as the loser got nothing. He also gave the still-unconscious Gilmore his his reserved room. Three Lawrence rooming establishments turned McAuliffe  away and he settled briefly in an area roadhouse outside of the city. Once the news of the fight hit the papers he left the Lawrence area and hid out at the St. Charles Hotel on Middlesex Street in the city of Lowell.

White Street Paint is located on this spot today.

White Street Paint, 15 Broadway photo by J. Godsey

And on Essex Street the carved block letters of the Ordway Building spell out the name of the man who brought a world title fight to Lawrence.

What Aaron Ordway left behind

Reporter Larry Thyne of various local papers including the Lowell Sun was largely responsible for recording the story of the fight. Prior to the fight, Mr. Thyne planted misinformation that kept other reporters away from Lawrence,  frantically searching Boston for the fight.  Two men from the Boston Police News, Captain Samuel Cooke and Ed Holske were credited along with Ordway in using  humble Lawrence as an unexpected location for such a monumental fight.

McAuliffe later said he was given a belt to go along with his title which he hocked immediately and bet the money on a horse in the Brooklyn Handicap. His horse lost.

At his 1897 retirement party,  when asked to turn his belt over for the next champion,  McAuliffe produced a hock ticket.  Master of ceremonies John L. Sullivan  "nearly tore off" McAuliffe's fancy suit.

Mike (Socko) Sarko, Lawrence's Golden Era Journeyman

This picture is on loan courtesy of Al Pappalardo

Salvatore M. Saccuzzo (record here) was born in 1908. He fought under both names, changing Sarkis to Sarko when he left Massachusetts for the bigger boxing world of New York. Mike’s professional career overlapped with that of Lawrence’s more famous fighter, Andy Callahan. That and the fact that his biggest fights were outside of Massachusetts most likely led to Mike's remarkable accomplishments being underplayed within the community.

He fought the iron of his era and was only stopped five times in 86 fights. Placed within historical context, his record says a lot about his toughness and skill level. Mike was a solid journeyman and sometimes described as a Trial Horse – the kind of fighter that up-and-comers had to meet before going to the next level. He was a good opponent for the top ranking fighters because he was competitive and hung in there until the last round.

Mike Sarko fought world champions. He met Benny Leonard three times and Kid Chocolate twice and Jack “Kid” Berg. He fought many contenders such as Ray Miller, Baby Joe Gans and Joe Glick. While he may have lost to these top men, he always gave a good account of himself. 

He stood for nearly three rounds against devastating puncher Ray Miller, the only fighter to stop Hall of Famer Jimmy McLarnin. Mike Sarko didn't back down from any match and earned praise from reporters with words like "tough" and "rugged." 

Mike came back to Lawrence in the summer of 1929. In a bid to win a match with Callahan, Mike lost to another hometown fighter, Lawrence’s Henry Janco. His fight with Janco was very popular within the different factions of Lawrence’s Italian community with Sarko representing the Sicilian community and Janco the Neopolitan one. The match up was compared to the previous battles between two other boxing Italians from Lawrence: the Neopolitan Mike Castle (Cassella) and Sicilian Kid Lewis (Louie Laudani).

A few years back I spoke with Mike’s widow Irene who told me that Mike thought he could make some money with boxing and wanted to give it a try. She hated to see cuts and bruises on her husband’s face and wished the travel would end. Mike did quit at age 24 and eventually became an in demand plasterer.  He and Irene raised very talented athletes of their own, sons Robert and Ronnie. Many who knew Mike in his later years remembered him as a very soft-spoken gentleman who enjoyed staying fit with daily walks. Thanks to his exemplary defensive skills his face didn't bear evidence of his time in the ring and many were surprised to learn he’d ever been a boxer.

While fighters like Mike Sarko didn’t get a lot of fanfare, they were the lifeblood of boxing.

I was told that the orignial photo hung in Stillman's Gym 

I got to thinking about Lawrence fighter Mike Sarko after reading this wonderful article by Carlos Acevedo on Al Singer. Mike was both Singer and Tony Canzoneri's sparring partner and Carlos's article beautifully captures the era.

http://thecruelestsport.com/2012/12/11/lightning-express-the-quick-rise-even-quicker-fall-of-al-singer/