Steve Kennedy, Lawrence lightweight, Part 1

Once considered a national lightweight prospect, Steve Kennedy was one of the best homegrown boxers to ever come out of Lawrence. Today his name is known by the few boxing history buffs devoted to the smaller markets.

Steve Kennedy in South Carolina during WWI

I’ve heard stories about once famous boxers dying with nothing but a shoebox full of newspaper clippings. The lucky ones had scrapbooks. Scrapbooks tell us as much about the subject as they do about the person who put it together. Often maintained by loving wives, siblings, mothers or sometime boxers themselves, scrapbooks create a more perfect version of reality. Missing are reports of those losses most irksome to the boxer. Indiscretions newspapers were only too happy to report are not included. Sometimes, when the career has ended and there are blank pages left, the composer will start filling it with their own personal news. It feels oddly intimate to read these scrapbooks. 

Lawrence lightweight Steve Kennedy’s scrapbook was compiled by his kid brother, Dan. Twelve years younger than his locally famous brother, Dan Kennedy would eventually help manage Steve’s comeback attempts during the early 1920s. Few articles were added after 1923. When Steve Kennedy passed away in the summer of 1931 from tuberculosis, Lawrence papers were quick to publish retrospective articles on Kennedy for the next two months. 

Left to Right: Steve Kennedy, Father, Dan Kennedy (circa 1919)

Kennedy’s upward trajectory ended after the first four years of his 13-year boxing career, with the remainder in a sporadic comeback mode. In 1912, Kennedy impulsively pulled out of a golden career opportunity, an unwise decision made during a bout of youthful homesickness. This decision limited his boxing prospects to the New England area. 

Kennedy began as an amateur in Lawrence, MA. On of his early opponents, Young Pendergast, made the mistake of calling the 17 year old a “quitter” after finishing their three round exhibition. Those in charge of the show, sensing a grudge match, allowed the boys to go three more rounds in which Kennedy shredded the doubting Pendergast. The gentlemen at the Unity Cycle Club, Lawrence’s premiere boxing hub, were thrilled with the young prospect but asked him to come back after he bulked up his then-90 pound frame.

Kennedy proved to be a boxing prodigy and the fistically-sophisticated audience of his era greatly appreciated his footwork, feinting and his ability to fight well with both hands.

He earned a devoted fan following and was the darling of the Unity Cycle Club. Manager Jim Crilley, who was instrumental in creating Lawrence’s own golden era (1900 – 1920), took over Kennedy’s career and soon he was fighting big New England names such as the Yelle brothers, Joe Eagan and Tommy Rawson.

In 1912, local boxing events were less frequent thanks to the strike-related turmoil in Lawrence. Crilley took Kennedy along with two other local boys to NYC during what we now call the Bread & Roses Strike. In NYC, Kennedy won the attention of trainers, fellow boxers and promoters as a Lawrence Telegram retrospective articles claims, those in “fightdom in the Metropolis do not care a hoot for a game fighter. What they want and are continually seeking is the class in a boxer’s makeup in preference to his gameness.”  

Crilley brought his boys to the famed Fairmount Gym for their workouts and they were introduced to visiting star Chicago boxer Packey McFarland. McFarland was thrilled to make the swift-footed Kennedy a regular sparring partner. Together with Willie Ritiche a fellow stable mate and lightweight contender the three men became friendly.

On April 26^th Steve fought Charley Twin Miller, a brother of another boxer he’d recently beaten in match in the Bronx. The story goes that Packey McFarland asked that Kennedy be added to his fightcard with Matt Wells. The promoters most excited by Kennedy as a prospect, Pat Donohue and Billy Gibson wanted to see if the Lawrence kid could maintain his composure in front of a NYC audience of 15,000. Kennedy held his own and it is said that for many days the NYC papers were full of talk about the boy from the textile city or the “Strike City” and cartoons were drawn depicting him either performing picket duty or being driven along with streets by soldiers with bayonets.

After witnessing Kennedy’s gym match with Ritchie, Promoters Donoghue and Gibson saw a potential champion and with some stiffening of his punches Kennedy could easily takeover Ritchie’s place as premier Lightweight contender. Donoghue asked Kennedy to have a go at Ritchie the next day and “clean him up” to which Steve replied “I don’t think it’s fair for met to put it over this lad, as he and I have been pals on the road and the gym and it would look raw for me to take him after our being friends all along.” To which Donoghue responded “Well, you’ll take Ritchie or you’ll take the train for Lawrence, now which shall it be?”

Later that night, Kennedy, left along at his rooming house, decided to break curfew and went for a night out in NYC. He had a big scuffle with Jim Crilley when he returned and Kennedy stalked off back to Lawrence. While there is no mention of alcohol in the Lawrence Telegram (March 31, 1923) article that discusses this incident, the Lawrence urban legend has Kennedy coming back to his room somewhat intoxicated.

According to a 1923 article written by friend and former trainer Jack Tilley,the NYC promoters tried to get Kennedy to come back but no amount of pleading telegrams sent to him or his mother would bring him back to NYC.

He resumed his career in Lawrence in the fall of 1912 and went on to win the New England Lightweight crown during an era when the lightweight division was overflowing with talent. His fight with former NE winner Gilbert Gallant was considered one of Kennedy’s finest moments and was the subject of conversation for years to come.