Ike Williams vs Bob Montgomery 2

Ike Williams became the undisputed lightweight champion by knocking out Bob Montgomery in the sixth round at Municipal Stadium in Philadelphia on August 4, 1947. The two champions each weighed 134 pounds for the scheduled 15-round contest, with Williams defending the National Boxing Association title and Montgomery placing the New York State Athletic Commission championship on the line. An attendance of 30,501 made it one of Philadelphia’s largest outdoor boxing crowds of the period. Referee Charley Daggert completed the count over Montgomery after 2 minutes 35 seconds of the sixth round.

A genuine personal hostility accompanied the championship settlement. Montgomery had stopped Williams in the twelfth round of their first meeting at Convention Hall on January 25, 1944, after subjecting the younger man to a severe beating. Williams subsequently complained that Montgomery had fought foul and promised to avenge the defeat. Montgomery, for his part, had resented Williams since the latter’s damaging victory over his friend Johnny Hutchinson. The division had remained divided since Sammy Angott’s temporary retirement in 1942. Montgomery acquired New York’s recognition, while Williams became the NBA champion by knocking out Juan Zurita in 1945. Their second meeting therefore offered both revenge and a final answer to the disputed championship.

Montgomery began in the same assertive manner that had brought him victory three and a half years earlier. He moved inside Williams’s jab and attacked the body with both hands, bending the younger champion at the waist with short hooks and uppercuts. Williams attempted to establish his left jab and had success when he kept Montgomery at the end of it, but the contest quickly became a close-range struggle. Both men punched with full force and showed little interest in conserving themselves for the later rounds. The exchanges continued until the bell, and on occasions the hostility carried them beyond it before Daggert could separate them.

The second and third rounds favoured Montgomery. He continued to force the fighting, crowding Williams and striking beneath the elbows whenever the younger man raised his guard. Williams answered with the straighter punches and occasionally checked Montgomery’s advance with a hard left, but he was allowing himself to be drawn into the sort of rough contest the older man preferred. During the third round Williams suffered a serious cut over his right eye. The injury gave Montgomery a clear target and revived memories of their first meeting, when Williams had been unable to withstand the older fighter’s sustained pressure.

Montgomery concentrated on the damaged eye in the fourth, bringing the left hook over Williams’s lowered right hand and following with punches to the body. Williams’s face was marked, and blood was entering the eye, while Montgomery appeared increasingly confident. Contemporary reports described the Bobcat as building an advantage through the first five rounds. Williams continued to land his jab when he made room, but too often abandoned it in favour of trading at close quarters. The fifth was fiercely contested, with neither man willing to yield. Montgomery’s body attack remained effective, and the strain of the contest was beginning to show in Williams’s expression and posture. To much of the crowd, it appeared that Montgomery might again have found the means to master him.

Williams altered the pattern at the beginning of the sixth. Instead of meeting Montgomery immediately in another exchange, he returned to the jab and used it to hold the older champion at a more favourable distance. Montgomery, who had expended considerable energy in forcing the first five rounds, slowed sufficiently for Williams to set his feet. The change was brief but decisive. Williams suddenly drove a short right hand to the chin. The punch landed with full force and transformed the contest at once. Montgomery’s legs weakened, his expression became vacant, and he reeled backwards towards the ropes.

Williams followed with both hands before Montgomery could recover. Rights and lefts drove the New York champion through the strands until his upper body was hanging outside the ring. He slipped back towards the canvas near the ropes as Daggert began the count. Montgomery managed to rise at nine, but he was badly dazed and unsteady. Williams resumed the attack immediately, striking him with another succession of heavy punches as he attempted to remain upright. Montgomery went down for a second time, sinking to his knees near the ropes. He made another effort to rise, but Daggert completed the count and ended the contest at 2:35.

The finish was abrupt because Montgomery had appeared to be winning. His body punching, pressure and attention to Williams’s injured eye had placed him in command of much of the contest. Williams’s victory did not result from a gradual wearing down of his opponent but from one short right hand delivered at the precise moment Montgomery’s pace had begun to slacken. Once the opening had appeared, Williams attacked with the speed and severity for which he had become known. Montgomery’s courage carried him to his feet after the first knockdown, but it could not restore his balance or protect him from the second assault.

Williams left the stadium with both recognised versions of the lightweight championship and with the defeat of 1944 avenged. At 24 he had developed considerably since their first meeting, adding a more reliable jab and greater control to his natural punching power. Montgomery remained one of the outstanding lightweights of the decade, but at 28, he had been overtaken by a younger rival capable of ending a fight with a single clean opening punch. The championship was no longer divided. Williams had settled the matter in Philadelphia and established himself as the leading lightweight of his time.

Ike Williams and Bob Montgomery did not need anyone manufacturing bad blood for them. Montgomery had given a younger Williams a savage beating in 1944, knocking him through the ropes and stopping him in the twelfth. Williams believed he had been fouled and carried the grievance for more than three years. By the time of the rematch, both men held claims to the lightweight championship, so this was personal business with the undisputed title at stake. Around 30,000 people packed Philadelphia’s Municipal Stadium to see it settled.

Montgomery started like a man who thought he still owned Williams. He drove punches into the body, kept his head low behind the shoulder and opened a cut around Williams’s eye. He took the second, third and fourth rounds, while the fifth was close. Williams had the better jab and the younger legs, but he was too angry to box sensibly for long. Both men wanted to hurt each other, which made the fight harder than it needed to be.

The finish in the sixth was what separated a great puncher from merely a hard one. Williams briefly returned to the jab, steadied the distance and then attacked without warning. He struck Montgomery with both hands, drove him through the ropes and dropped him for a count of nine. Montgomery got up because he was proud, not because he had recovered. Williams swarmed over him again and put him down for the finish.

For me, this was Williams coming of age. He had taken punishment, resisted the urge to fold and found the exact moment to release his power. Montgomery was still a fine fighter, but the younger man had caught him. Williams gained revenge and proved himself the one true lightweight champion.