From the archive · September 22, 1927
Gene Tunney vs Jack Dempsey 2
World Heavyweight Title · Soldiers Field, Chicago, Illinois
Record 78-1-3 · 189½ lb
Record 58-5-9 · 192½ lb

The fight
Gene Tunney retained the world heavyweight championship by defeating Jack Dempsey over ten rounds at Soldier Field, Chicago, on September 22, 1927. Referee Dave Barry and judges George Lytton and Sheldon Clark voted unanimously for Tunney, who had won the title from Dempsey 364 days earlier in Philadelphia. Tunney weighed 190 pounds and Dempsey 192. The official attendance was 104,943, producing receipts of $2,858,660. Tunney’s purse was $990,445, and Dempsey received $447,500. The contest was heard across the United States through a radio network of more than 60 stations.
Although Tunney had won their first meeting decisively, public affection for Dempsey ensured great interest in the return. The former champion had not fought for three years before losing his title, but restored his position by knocking out Jack Sharkey in the seventh round in July 1927. Tunney was making his first defence and began as the betting favourite, although the odds had moved close to even by the day of the fight. The contest took place in a 20-foot ring, giving the champion the space required for his movement, while a newly adopted rule required the standing boxer to retire to the furthest neutral corner before a count could begin after a knockdown.
The opening round was cautious and fairly even. Dempsey advanced behind a crouch, trying to work his way inside without repeating the reckless pursuit that had cost him so many rounds in Philadelphia. Tunney moved laterally, kept his left hand active and sought to strike before Dempsey could set himself. By the second round, the champion had established the familiar pattern. He jabbed while moving, met Dempsey’s rushes with straight rights and tied him up whenever the former champion reached close quarters.
Through the third, fourth and fifth rounds, Tunney’s speed and judgement of distance continued to give him the advantage. Dempsey pressed steadily and occasionally forced the champion towards the ropes, but he found it difficult to release combinations before Tunney had moved away. Tunney did not waste punches. He scored with the jab, added the right when Dempsey came within range and then changed position. Dempsey’s best work came when he could make the fight physical, but those passages were brief. The sixth was more favourable to the challenger, whose pressure and heavier punches allowed him to narrow Tunney’s lead.
The contest changed completely less than a minute into the seventh. Dempsey drove Tunney backwards with a right and left, trapping him near the ropes. He then landed a succession of blows to the head, finishing the attack as the champion collapsed to the canvas. It was the first recorded knockdown of Tunney’s professional career. Dempsey, conditioned by the practice of his championship years when a boxer could remain near a fallen opponent, stood over Tunney instead of moving immediately to the neutral corner. Barry repeatedly directed him away and did not begin his count until Dempsey complied.
The official count therefore started several seconds after Tunney had fallen. Film examination subsequently placed the champion on the floor for approximately 13 or 14 seconds, although estimates varied. Tunney watched the referee and rose at nine, having used the available time to clear his head. Dempsey charged when the contest resumed, but Tunney clinched when necessary and moved rapidly around the ring until the bell. Dempsey had created the opportunity he required but had surrendered part of it by failing to obey the neutral-corner rule, a condition his own camp had requested during negotiations.
Tunney recovered sufficiently to reverse matters in the eighth. Returning to his jab and footwork, he caught Dempsey with a right hand and sent the former champion down. Dempsey rose almost immediately, with Barry beginning the count before Tunney had reached a neutral corner. That inconsistency added to the argument surrounding the previous round, although Dempsey required little recovery time from his own knockdown. Tunney resumed control after the count, using the full width of the ring and refusing to give Dempsey another stationary target.
The champion secured the ninth and tenth rounds with cleaner, more frequent scoring. Dempsey continued advancing, but the force had gone from his attacks, and he could not reproduce the combination that had dropped Tunney. The champion boxed with renewed confidence, jabbing, stepping aside and bringing over the right whenever Dempsey followed in a straight line. At the final bell there was no reasonable argument over which man had won the greater number of rounds. The dispute concerned whether the seventh should have ended the championship rather than the eventual decision.
Barry, Lytton and Clark all returned verdicts for Tunney, who had again outboxed Dempsey over ten rounds. Dempsey maintained that the champion had been down long enough to be counted out, while Tunney later insisted that he understood the rule and could have risen sooner had the count required it. Dempsey nevertheless accepted the verdict in the ring and raised Tunney’s arm. The result closed his professional career. Tunney fought once more, stopping Tom Heeney in the eleventh round the following July, before retiring as champion. Their second meeting remained known as the “Long Count Fight,” its seventh round continuing to overshadow a contest in which Tunney had otherwise demonstrated clear superiority.
The House on this fight
As a big Jack Dempsey fan, this fight stands alongside the Jess Willard contest as one of the most publicised heavyweight championship fights in history. More than 100,000 people packed Soldier Field, but it was the seventh round and the long count that made the rematch immortal.
Dempsey finally trapped Tunney and unloaded the sort of combination that had destroyed men throughout his championship reign. Tunney went down badly hurt, but Dempsey failed to move immediately to the neutral corner. That delayed the count and gave the champion extra recovery time. It was frustrating, but I cannot call the result a robbery. The rule was known beforehand, and Dempsey’s failure to obey it cost him his best opportunity.
Tunney showed tremendous composure. He used the count intelligently, survived Dempsey’s follow-up and then dropped him in the eighth. For most of the remaining action, Tunney was quicker, more accurate and tactically superior. He controlled the distance exactly as he had in their first meeting.
Dempsey provided the fight’s defining moment, but Tunney deserved the decision. The controversy has sometimes hidden how well he boxed. Dempsey came within seconds of regaining the championship, yet boxing is full of moments when instinct defeats instruction. He reverted to the old habit of standing over a fallen opponent, and history turned on that mistake.