GREAT MOMENTS IN CANTERBURY SPORT BOXING

Press, Volume CV, Issue 30956, 12 January 1966, Page 9

GREAT MOMENTS IN CANTERBURY SPORT BOXING

TJOXING is the last of the gladiatorial sports surviving in the Western world today. It is the only sport in which two individuals set out to hurt each other —the only sport where blows are aimed at the head with intent to put an opponent out of action. Skill and stamina are very necessary ingredients of boxing, but the vital requirement, the one that rouses spectators to a frenzy, is courage. On the night of April 9, 1964, Dion Murphy, the only boxing idol to appear in Christchurch since World War 11, displayed raw, naked courage to beat Kimpo Amarfio over 10 rounds and to send a crowd of more than 4000 continuously cheering, screaming fight fans into almost an ecstacy of delight The air in Canterbury Court could have been cut with a knife when the two boxers climbed into the ring, with the brand new gloves shining pristinely on the immaculately white towel. Murphy weighed 9st 611 b, three pounds heavier than Amarfio, but the Ghanaian looked twice as strong. The atmosphere, full of the smell of stale sweat and resin, became electric as the opponents gloved-up. The arc lights made the 20ft square ring the cynosure of more than 8000 eyes; the boxers appeared like an etching in black and white; wagers were still being made when the opening gong sounded. There was an immediate, urgent hush broken by the sound of boxing boots swishing on canvas, the slap of leather as Kimpo Amarfio bustled Murphy from the start, scoring twice with right and left swings to Murphy’s face. Murphy countered with left jabs to the face and a left rip to the Ghanaian's middle. The crowd relaxed its tension in cheers at the end of round one; here were two boxers, with vastly different style and physique, who were

both out to win and no pulling punches. Amarfio, bulletheaded, with heavily muscled jaw, thick, flattened nose, thick lips, no neck and enormous shoulders, had only two punches—left and right swings. But he pivoted his body to put plenty of weight behind the

swings—they were not stiff-arm slaps. His punching was very quick, and he had no conception of the orthodox—delivering the punches from any position at any angle. Murphy, startlingly white against his opponent’s black, was the orthodox boxer in the classical British stance; using a very fast, but not hard left jab on counterattack: jabbing his left in his opponent’s face, then using it to rip him in the body in a blur of speed. The boxers were very evenly matched over the first six rounds and it became excitingly more and more apparent that it was a real test of strength as well as skill. Murphy blocked most of Amarfio’s swings, all aimed at his head. But those that did land took great toll of Murphy’s strength. The right side of his face was swelling visibly at the end of round five.

Murphy scored many more clean blows. His left was like a trip-hammer, lightly thudding on Amarfio’s face. It ripped in viciously downstairs- Murphy several times tried to nail Amarfio with a right-cross but missed on every occasion except one. When he did land a per-fectly-timed, solid right cross, Amarfio did not even shake his head at the impact. In round seven, Murphy scored with a two-fisted attack to the body—it was clear that his handlers had advised him that Amarfio’s head could have been made of concrete for all the effect Murphy’s punches were having.

Then Murphy missed badly with a vicious right hook, and his defence was wide open for a second. Amarfio caught Murphy in the solar plexus with the first left swing that he had aimed at the body. Murphy wilted visibly. Murphy fought back gamely when he appeared beaten. Amarfio took no notice at all of Murphy’s counter-punches. He finally dropped Murphy with a wild right swing to the jaw. Murphy hit the canvas with a dull thud.

Murphy struggled up on the count of nine. He staggered back on the ropes. He said after the fight that he was almost out on his feet, and could hardly see Amarfio. He weaved by instinct, but Amarfio landed two hard swings on his unprotected face. The bell, hammered madly by the

time-keeper to be heard above the seas of sound sweeping over the ring, sounded the end of the round and the saving of Murphy. Amarfio was out of his corner and on to Murphy like a panther in round eight. Murphy went down for a count of three. The referee, Norman Fisher, grabbed Amarfio’s hand and half-raised it. Amarfio’s second leaped into the ring, thinking Amarfio had been awarded the fight on a t.k.o. He scuttled back as Mr Fisher led Amarfio to a neutral corner and completed a compulsory eightcount on Murphy. Murphy weathered the remainder of the round, defending by instinct. Amarfio threw away the fight by swinging wildly, aiming all blows in the direction of Murphy’s head but not connecting cleanly at all. In round nine, Murphy began jabbing back, almost out on his feet. Amarfio punched madly, almost blindly. The cheering rose to a crescendo as Murphy began to battle back. Amarfio, who had been expending his strength in prodigious blows that hit nothing, tired visibly. When round nine ended, Murphy thought the fight was over. He put his tired left arm round Amarfio’s neck; the crowd went mad with delight. The ring announcer began to climb into the ring. All was mad, frenzied chaos. Finally, Mr Fisher made both boxers understand that there was stall a round to go. And it was not an anticlimax. Murphy, punching straighter as always, was beating the swinging Amarfio to the punch. He had Amarfio in trouble but could not put the Ghanaian down. The final bell went and victory came to -Murphy—split decision, but a decision greeted only by wild, congratulatory cheering from a crowd which had cheered continuously over the final four rounds. Both gallant boxers received a genuine ovation for their skill and pluck. Murphy’s courage has not been questioned since.