Henry Armstrong vs Al Manfredo 2

Four days after disposing of his challenger in Des Moines, the welterweight champion was back in the ring at Minneapolis, where he knocked out Howard Scott in two rounds. Such a schedule was severe even by the standards of 1939, but Henry Armstrong treated the contest with Al Manfredo at Riverview Park on October 9 as another working engagement in the busiest championship reign of the period. Before 5,500 spectators, who paid approximately $8,900, he stopped the Californian after one minute and 35 seconds of the fourth round.

There had been uncertainty over the standing of the match before the men entered the ring. Promoter Pinkie George presented a scheduled ten-round contest, while the National Boxing Association had questioned Manfredo’s eligibility for a championship opportunity because he was not among its three leading contenders. Contemporary reports nevertheless described Armstrong as having retained his world welterweight title, and the bout has since been recorded as a defence of the championship recognised by the National Boxing Association, the New York State Athletic Commission and The Ring. Armstrong weighed 141½ pounds, comfortably below the welterweight limit, while Manfredo was 146¾.

The pair required little introduction to one another. Ten months earlier, at the Arena in Cleveland, Armstrong had stopped Manfredo in the third round of a recognised 15-round title match. Manfredo had been floored for a count of five in the opening round on that occasion, and the return offered him the opportunity to show that the first result had not settled their business. Armstrong, for his part, was making his first appearance since losing the world lightweight championship to Lou Ambers over 15 rounds at Yankee Stadium in August. His welterweight crown remained in his possession, and there was no indication in Des Moines that the defeat by Ambers had diminished his physical condition or appetite for combat.

Manfredo made his best showing in the first round. He used his greater weight and attempted to meet Armstrong before the champion could settle into his familiar rhythm. It was the only session in which contemporary observers considered the challenger to have competed on even terms. Armstrong was not a boxer who generally surrendered ground for long. Shorter and lighter, he moved forward behind a crouch, worked at close range and gave Manfredo neither the distance nor the time required to arrange his punches.

From the second round onward, the contest became increasingly one-sided. Armstrong maintained his pressure, striking to the body and head in rapid succession and remaining close after punching. His method depended less upon a single heavy blow than upon the accumulation of short punches, many delivered while the other man was attempting to hold, turn or move away. Manfredo continued to resist but was forced steadily into defensive work. He could neither keep Armstrong outside with a jab nor discourage him with counters, and the champion’s pace left him with diminishing opportunities to reply.

The same course continued through the third round. Armstrong crowded his man, beat him to the punch and allowed him little rest. Manfredo remained upright and willing, but his responses became less frequent as he absorbed the champion’s body attack. There were no reported fouls and no knockdowns in the surviving accounts of the rematch. The damage was done through sustained pressure rather than one sudden stroke, with Armstrong controlling the distance despite being the smaller man.

By the fourth, Manfredo’s resistance had been reduced to survival. Armstrong drove him backwards and continued punching as the challenger came to rest against the ropes. Manfredo was still on his feet, but he was no longer defending himself adequately or returning enough blows to justify allowing the punishment to continue. Referee Alex Fidler intervened at 1:35, awarding Armstrong a technical knockout. The stoppage was recorded with Manfredo battered and helpless against the ropes.

It was Armstrong’s 99th recorded victory and another brief defence during a reign distinguished as much by its frequency as by its quality. Manfredo had lasted 50 seconds longer than in their first meeting, but the essential difference between them remained unchanged. He could compete while fresh; he could not withstand the champion’s uninterrupted advance. Armstrong left Des Moines with his welterweight position intact and, in keeping with his extraordinary programme, travelled on to meet his next opponent before the bruises from this contest had time to fade.

The schedule of professional fighters in the 1930s and 1940s was extreme by today’s standards, but they regarded it as normal. Then you look at Henry Armstrong’s championship years, and it goes to another level entirely. The man fought like a whirlwind and as regularly as a wind-up Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robot. He beat Al Manfredo on October 9 and was defending the welterweight title again four days later. During that same month, he fought five times in five different cities.

Manfredo was no stranger to him. Armstrong had already stopped him in three rounds ten months earlier, and the rematch followed much the same course. Manfredo reportedly competed well in the opening round, but once Armstrong established his rhythm, he could not keep him off. Armstrong crowded the taller man, stayed on his chest and kept both hands working. He was not merely throwing wildly. He changed levels, attacked the body, rolled beneath counters and punched from positions where most fighters would have been trying to clinch.

By the fourth round, Manfredo was trapped against the ropes and no longer defending himself properly. The stoppage was inevitable.

Armstrong’s greatness was not simply that he fought so often. It was that his entire style demanded enormous physical effort, yet he reproduced it every few days. That workload would be unthinkable now, and I doubt we shall ever see it like again.