Someone once said “What’s in a name?” Exactly who it was that coined the phrase is beyond me, although I probably should know since I quoted them, but hey! I’ll be the first to admit that I am a boxing writer, not a journalist major, and the only person I can quote accurately is Shakespeare. That is only because my wife forced me to watch "Shakespeare In Love" some years back...anyhow, enough of that and on to the topic at hand.

In sports, to become remembered throughout history, one must accomplish something big. In basketball, Michael Jordan became famous for his tremendous skill and scoring ability. In football, Joe Montana became famous for being great in the clutch and being able to win the big game under pressure.

Baseball had home run hitters Hank Aaron and Willie Mays, Hockey had Wayne Gretzky...etc. Each man became legendary for their skills. Boxing is no different of course; the most famous men have been those who have won world titles.

Just winning a world title in boxing just isn’t enough though, especially with so many variations of the belt floating around today. One must be not only a world champion, a feat in and of itself, but they must be a dominant champion to leave an impression. If a champion is not dominant, their name, more often than not, ends up lost in the shuffle of the dozens of other current or former title holders, only to be remembered when the title lineage is examined.

It seems almost unfair, doesn’t it?

Well, boxing has always had one other way for a fighter to be remembered, even a fighter who barely made it past journeyman status. The “Nickname”! More...

For some considerable time I have wanted to write a technical appraisal of the magnificent and timeless Jack Johnson. I have refrained from doing so because Jack, the great Lil’ Arthur as he was known, comes with so much historically vital yet distracting baggage. His story – and ye gods, it is some story even now – is so crammed with political intrigue and controversy that his immense boxing skills are nearly always shoved onto the back burner and mentioned in passing.

Johnson was a giant of a man in every way, but the prime objective here is to demonstrate his wonderful knowledge and mastery of something we used to call the Noble Art. Quite simply, it was the art of hitting without being hit. It was about utter dedication and devotion to an astonishingly difficult and slippery discipline. If you have ever stepped into a boxing ring, even for nothing more than a light-hearted session with a pal, you will know how infernally hard it is to avoid being struck.

I have talked to many young and eager amateurs who have nurtured dreams of stepping up in class. Armed with the firm conviction that their defence is as sound as the good old dollar used to be, they have reeled from sparring sessions with modest professionals in a state of shock and disarray after being clobbered hither and yon. More...