Foreigners (13 page)

That Turpin would be unfaithful to his wife was hardly
a surprise to any who knew him. After all, he had not even
been faithful to Mary Stack while they were courting, and
his reputation as a fit, handsome man who liked to chase,
and be chased by, the ladies was well earned. However,
'managing' women was something that a man with a controlling
personality like Turpin's was unsuited to, for he could
hardly expect to exercise authority over every woman that
he was involved with. His manager worried about his interest
in women for different reasons, for it had long been assumed
that too much sex sapped a fighter's strength and made him
vulnerable in the ring. Most fighters were encouraged to
stay away from 'female temptation' for at least five or six
weeks before a bout, the belief being that this pent-up frustration
would result in a ferocious outpouring of energy
when it was time to fight. However, Turpin's normal schedule
of regular fighting, plus his inability to pass by a pretty
girl, meant that this theory was never really tested in his
case. Sugar Ray Robinson, on the other hand, not only
believed in the theory, he practised it. In his autobiography
he wrote, 'One of the big sacrifices in being a champion
is sex. If you're a fighter, you need your energy. You can't
leave it with a woman, even if she's your wife.' He believed
that abstinence gave a fighter both a physical and a psychological
advantage. 'In abstaining from it, you're not only
stronger, but you
think
you're stronger. You're meaner because
your nervous system is on edge. And when you walk into
the center of the ring for the referee's instructions and stare
at your opponent, you dislike him more than ever because
he's the symbol of all your sacrifices. But for a weak one,
a sneaker, as trainers call them, sex works the other way.
When he goes into the ring, he's got a guilty conscience.
He doubts his stamina. He believes that his opponent is
better conditioned than he is. Mentally, he's beaten before
the bell rings.'

George Middleton's biggest fear was that the alluring
sights and sounds of New York City would prove an irresistible
distraction for his fighter, for after all Manhattan
was a world away from the drab, run-down, post-war East
Midlands. Initially, Turpin seemed to be handling things
with level-headed maturity, fielding journalists' questions
and saying all the right things about the training facilities
and his American sparring partners. However, as the
fight drew closer things began to change. When they had
initially checked into the Hotel Edison, the Turpin party
had been greeted by a high society coloured lady who
seemed to specialise in facilitating negro celebrities and
making them feel at home. She informed George
Middleton that the following morning there would be a
reception in Harlem with food and entertainment where
the negro 'smart set' would like to meet Randy. Although
George Middleton cared little for such distractions, and
would have preferred his fighter to skip the appointment,
the Turpin brothers and, more importantly, Jack Solomons,
were keen to oblige. Solomons feared the negative publicity
if it ever leaked out that Turpin had snubbed coloured
society, while the Turpin brothers were simply curious to
see how coloured Americans lived. The following morning
they arrived at the grand Harlem brownstone to discover
that, even at this early hour, a party was already in full
swing. The society host was keen to introduce the world
champion to everybody present for, after all, he was the
guest of honour, but she seemed particularly keen that
he should make the acquaintance of a strikingly attractive
young coloured woman in her early twenties called
Adele Daniels, who, according to the hostess, was particularly
excited to meet the world champion. Dick Turpin
looked on and mentioned to George Middleton how
attractive the young woman was, but Middleton's reply
neatly summed up his concerns. 'A bit too good-looking,'
was all he said. During the course of the next few days,
Turpin appeared to be focused and the move to the
Catskills took place without incident. However, George
Middleton's concerns appeared to be well founded when
Miss Adele Daniels began to appear whenever his fighter
made a public appearance, and then, much to Middleton's
consternation, Turpin began to leave Grossinger's and
accompany her on private shopping trips when he had
finished his daily training sessions.

On the evening of 10 September, 1951, less than three
weeks after Turpin had stepped off the
Queen Mary
, hostilities
with Sugar Ray Robinson began anew. After the first
fight in London, Robinson had candidly declared, 'You
were real good. I have no alibis. I was beaten by a better
man,' but Robinson had absolutely no intention of allowing
this to happen again. Having been bullied and outmuscled
in London, Robinson weighed in 3 lb heavier for this fight
and was determined to master the Englishman's strength
and awkward crouching style. He remembered Turpin as
being 'built like a heavyweight', and he never understood
how a mere 160 lb were packed into his body. 'He should
have weighed 190,' said Robinson. This time Robinson was
prepared for Turpin's 'ruffian' tactics and, like the 61,370
people packed into Harlem's Polo Grounds, he was
convinced that he would recapture the world title that he
had 'accidentally' relinquished at the end of his gruelling
European tour. His confidence was reflected in the bookmaking
which, despite his being the challenger, made him
a heavy favourite. As referee Ruby Goldstein signalled the
fifteen-round championship bout to begin it soon became
clear that, although Turpin was moving well, Robinson
was now in first-class condition. His punching was crisp
and his attention was fully focused on the task at hand.
As the rounds unfolded it was apparent to George
Middleton and the champion's brothers that Turpin's work
rate was not what it had been in London, for his tempo
kept dropping and he was occasionally taking breaks on
the ropes and simply bobbing and weaving to avoid
Robinson's precise punching. An early vicious left hook by
Robinson had shaken Turpin to his boots and, unlike the
fight in London where Turpin had continually pressed the
attack, he was spending the greater part of this fight
covering up and counterpunching.

As the fight moved into the tenth round, the bout
remained even on the referee's scorecard with four rounds
for each man, and one round drawn, but the partisan crowd
were now beginning to show signs of worry for it was
clear that this Limey's victory had been no fluke. Turpin
was a hell of a fighter, and the crowd soon received further
proof of this fact when midway through the tenth round
a swinging right from Turpin caused a cut over Robinson's
left eye that began to gush blood at such a rate that it
seemed inevitable that the fight would soon be stopped
and Turpin would retain his title. Sensing his chance of
regaining the world crown slipping away, Robinson cut
loose into Turpin's body with hard punches and then
followed up with right and left hooks to the head. Instead
of backing away and defending himself, Turpin unwisely
tried to meet fire with fire and was caught by a swinging
right cross which sent him spinning to the canvas. The
crowd roared and the referee began a count which Turpin
could clearly hear. He rose at seven and shook his head as
he tried to regain his senses, but he was immediately pinned
back against the ropes by another ferocious assault by
Robinson, who slashed at a sagging opponent who was
suddenly proving to be an easy target. Normally a referee
might have allowed the fight to continue to the bell, thereby
giving the champion time to have a breather and come out
fresh for another round, but on this occasion – Robinson
having hit Turpin thirty-one times in just twenty-five
seconds – Goldstein waved his hands in the air and stopped
the fight with a mere seven seconds of the round remaining.
The ferocious baying of the Polo Grounds crowd, and the
referee's awareness of the recent death in the ring of a
fighter named Jose Flores, probably encouraged Goldstein
to draw proceedings to a halt. Randolph Turpin's reign as
world middleweight champion was over; it had lasted just
sixty-four days.

After the fight an unhappy Turpin claimed, 'He should
not have stopped it. With only seven seconds to go I was
perfectly keen.' It is certainly possible that a revived Turpin
might have emerged for the eleventh round and opened up
more damage on Robinson's badly cut eye, forcing the
referee to stop the fight, but the referee had made his decision.
Randolph Turpin was no longer champion of the
world, and Jack Solomons began to immediately negotiate
for a deciding fight, insisting that this was something that
both fighters would welcome. However, most fight fans
knew that Sugar Ray Robinson would be in no hurry to
once again risk either his reputation or his title against a
warrior like Turpin, at least not in the foreseeable future.
Back at the Hotel Edison the Turpin party licked their
collective wounds, while in the streets of Harlem thousands
of revellers celebrated long into the night. A few
days later, as Turpin, with newly straightened hair, made
ready to board the ship that would take him back across
the Atlantic Ocean, those in Turpin's party noticed that a
beaming Adele Daniels was standing at dockside eagerly
waving off the former world champion boxer. Nobody
said anything to Turpin about the woman's presence,
although it was clear that not one among them either
approved of, or trusted, this coloured American woman
who may well have disrupted Turpin's preparations more
than they had initially realised.

Before Turpin had left Britain for the rematch with
Robinson, George Middleton had already arranged for his
fighter to undertake a nationwide tour of music halls and
theatres on his return home. There was no provision in
Turpin's lucrative contract for the tour to be curtailed, or
the money altered, in the event of Turpin losing his world
title, so this was a piece of shrewd business on Middleton's
part. When the defeated champion returned home, he was
relieved to discover that his popularity had by no means
been adversely affected by his recent setback. In fact, there
was considerable excitement when both George Middleton
and Jack Solomons announced that not only were they still
trying to negotiate for a third Robinson bout, but there
was the distinct possibility that in the meantime Turpin
would challenge the American Rocky Graziano for a huge
sum of money. American bouts aside, Turpin remained
British and European middleweight champion and the
British public were clearly still willing to spend money to
see their sporting hero defend these titles.

Soon after their arrival, Turpin made it clear to George
Middleton that he was not altogether keen on the theatrical
tour, but he could not argue with a weekly income in excess
of £1,000 for barely breaking sweat. The main staple of
the 'performances' were exhibition bouts with either his
brother Dick or Jackie, and perhaps a little work on the
punchbag and a display of his prowess on the speedball.
In each city an appeal was made to promising fighters to
come out and spar a few rounds with the champion, but
after a near-tragedy in Birmingham few took Turpin up
on his offer. During the second performance on a midweek
night at the Birmingham Hippodrome, a local lad went
two rounds with Turpin, but on leaving the ring he suddenly
collapsed. In the end the young man recovered, but members
of the public were now very cautious about risking their
health against Randolph Turpin. Moving from town to
town, doing little more than shadow-boxing alongside
singing and dancing acts, clowns, and even pet acts, the
novelty of this way of making money soon wore off.
Luckily, by the time December rolled around the tour was
over, for most of the theatres needed their stages for
pantomime season, and Turpin was once again free to turn
his mind to the more pressing business of his boxing career.
In June 1952, having decided to temporarily step up a division,
Turpin won the British and Empire light-heavyweight
title, stopping a gallant Don Cockell in the eleventh round
despite the fact that his opponent outweighed him by
12 lb. However, by this stage, it was becoming evident to
those close to Turpin that the fighter was experiencing
serious difficulties managing his finances.

Although Turpin had recently made plenty of money
by appearing on stage, in addition to the large sums that he
was earning from boxing, the fighter was spending his income
at a reckless rate. After the Robinson defeat in New York,
Turpin had informed a surprised George Middleton that
in future he wished to take total responsibility for his own
financial affairs. Up until this stage in Turpin's professional
life as a fighter, George Middleton had countersigned
all of Turpin's cheques and made sure that the boxer's
accounts were kept in order. When Turpin informed him
of his intentions, Middleton was alarmed, but he knew
that he was dealing with a grown man and the last thing
that he wanted to be accused of was being overly interfering
or, even worse, stealing from his fighter. George
Middleton knew that he had done his best to instil in his
charge the idea that a boxing career is relatively short, and
that it can all be over with just one punch, therefore Turpin
should be prudent with his money. And Turpin had
listened, but Middleton was unconvinced that his words
had done little more than pass in through one ear and out
through the other. George Middleton agreed to Turpin's
demands, but he once again suggested to Turpin that he
save his money in the bank, or invest it properly, but he
chose to say nothing further and simply made the arrangements
for his fighter to take charge of his own financial
affairs.

After the Robinson rematch Turpin suddenly realised
that he was a rich man. Unfortunately, with his new-found
wealth came friends and hangers-on who fed Turpin's ego
and whom he, in turn, was able to help out by allowing
them to share in his fortune. If a virtual stranger needed
a car, or a 'loan' to escape from pressing debt, or money
to buy a pub or a business, Turpin was able to put his
hand in his pocket and oblige. His own family were given
houses and cars, and he bought himself a pair of pet
monkeys and a big house in Warwick. If he felt like a
break in the south of France or Spain, he would take
family and friends, paying for their flights and accommodation,
and picking up the bill for everything. His sister
Joan, who was a frequent recipient of his generosity, often
warned her younger brother to be less extravagant and to
remember that it was his money and not anybody else's.
However, casually tossing handfuls of banknotes into the
air, 'Licker' would remind her that yes, he knew that it
was his cash, which was why he would do with it exactly
what he pleased.