By Mike Lockley
IN HIS dotage, Jimmy Batten, former British light-middleweight champ who faced Roberto Duran, talks with the slow, deadpan assertiveness of a veteran hard man. He possesses the deliberate, no-nonsense tones of the grey-haired London faces portrayed in Guy Ritchie films such as Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch.
To an extent, that ruggedness passed me by as a staff writer for Boxing News some 45 years ago. Here, it stirred and simmered slowly and deliberately.
Back then, the Millwall champ was something of a pin-up puncher, his picture even adorning the front cover of a teen pop magazine. “Thinking about that upset me, really,” Batten said, his eyes trained on mine, “because I can’t do it anymore.”
Today, Jimmy is battling Parkinson’s disease, diagnosed three years ago, and, he says matter-of-factly, a result of his 49-fight career spent during the days of 15-round title fights.
Alarmingly, he insists he was warned of brain damage before being outpointed by Duran in Miami in 1982. He would go on to have six more contests. “I have my health problems,” he shrugged.
Batten, aged 68, will not be prised open by praise. Batten, his eyes fixed on me throughout the interview, has earned the right to say it as it is – matter-of-fact sentences delivered without the cushion of belly-laughs.
“I got married too young,” he offered as an opening shot. “A lot of children early, a mortgage, I hadn’t grown up.” Wed at 20, he and his wife would divorce decades later.
A surprise Sunday call from the Millwall idol, now living in Kent, brought the memories flooding back. Jimmy, a member of Terry Lawless’ all-conquering Canning Town gym that also boasted Maurice Hope, Charlie Magri, Kirkland Laing, Mark Kaylor and Jim Watt strutted his stuff during my years at BN. He possessed the trademark Royal Oak gym traits; tight guard, stiff jab, educated pressure and superb conditioning.
On reflection, there was always something of an edge to Jimmy. After he outpointed George Walker at York Hall, Bethnal Green, in 1980, the then ex British champ rounded on me in the dressing room and growled over the trade paper’s coverage of his bouts.
As I trudged away, one well-known East End fight figure pulled me to one side and advised: “Next time he does that, hit him to the body, Mike.”
Batten has lived a life – and then some. The former outstanding amateur – he was unbeaten for an incredible five and a half years – gained outright ownership of a Lonsdale Belt, famously halting Wolverhampton’s former champ Larry Paul in what looked, on paper, a very dangerous defence of the title.
There were those who believed Paul would prove too much, but Larry fell apart in the fourth.
“That was a great fight,” said Batten. “We had an argument at the weigh-in, he said he was going to knock me out and I told him, ‘you want to try now?’ He caught me with some good shots.”
After a pause, Jimmy said: “I think he quit.” Whisper it, but so did others.
In retirement, Batten worked as an actor, appearing in The Bill and The Detectives and, on the big screen, The Krays and Tank Mallin. He was a minder and driver, doorman, boxing trainer and singer.
“I’ve got a better voice now than I had back then,” he said. I waited for the champ to break into a smile. He didn’t, instead scrutinising my features for reaction.
I laughed for him.
Others who rose to the top during Mickey Duff, Mike Barrett and Harry Levine’s dominance of the domestic game, have voiced unhappiness about their lot. Batten is thoroughly content with his achievements.
And he is rightly proud of the 10 hard rounds he gave Duran at the Orange Bowl, Miami, in 1982. Batten not only faced one of the all-time greats, he pushed those hands of stone all the way.
“I told everyone I was coming to win,” he recalled. “I went in the ring thinking I was going to box like I’d never boxed before. I moved it, moved it and moved it. It was a close fight, the decision (scores, 99-93, 98-94, 98-92) was ridiculous.”
“Terry Lawless was a good man,” he stressed. “Maybe I should’ve earned a bit more money, but I had a good career. I would’ve liked to have fought for a world title, I’m not saying I would’ve won one, but I would’ve liked to have fought for one.”
Batten, a grandfather to six, has every right to be more than happy with his ring achievements. After only two losses in 18 – both to Peter Cain – he was pitted against Albert Hillman for the vacant British light-middleweight title. Jimmy won the 1977 Albert Hall battle in the seventh.
“I’d been in with Albert Hillman as an amateur,” he said. “I was confident I’d win that fight, I put it to him to the body. It was all planned.”
The belt was put on the line against Paul and tough Tony Poole, who dragged Batten to the brink of defeat. In their gruelling 1978 clash, Jimmy was badly hurt by a crippling body shot, but survived the storm to prevail after 13 relentless rounds. Poole was pulled out with a badly gashed nose.
That was a draining, punishing defence – and it was the reason, Batten states, for the disaster that struck in his following outing.
Just 10 weeks after being taken to a very dark place by Poole, Jimmy faced strong, but crude, Frenchman Gilbert Cohen for the vacant European title. At Wembley, the warm favourite was knocked out in three.
“After Poole, I should’ve had a break until after Christmas to heal my body,” said Batten. “I had a broken nose for a start.”
Worse was to follow – on the domestic scene, Batten’s bubble was burst by Welshman Pat Thomas who took his British title in nine. “That was a good fight,” I ventured.
“That was a terrible fight,” Batten replied firmly. “He came out for the second round and butted me, my eye went, I couldn’t see.”
Batten rebuilt with five wins and was then outpointed by Chris Christian. That was his cue to up sticks to Chicago where he had four fights before facing Duran.
“My uncle lived there,” he said, “he had a building company and he got me a job as a builder. Chicago was lovely, a lovely place and the money was good. It was a good life.”
Batten returned to Britain in 1983, scored a fine win over future champ Jimmy Cable, fought in South Africa, squeezed in another Chicago bout, and called it a career after being stopped in six by Prince Rodney for his old British title.
In truth, the decision was forced upon him after tests showed signs of brain damage. Alarmingly, Jimmy is adamant the doctors told him something he already knew.
Batten no longer follows the sport. “I used to, but I don’t now. Maybe I shouldn’t say it, but the fighters today don’t seem as good as in my day. Duran, Hearns, Leonard, Hagler – I don’t see anyone in that category.” Jimmy Batten may have become something of a footnote in British fight history, yet he’s among the very select band of domestic boxers to face one of the Four Kings.
What’s more, he gave him one hell of a scrap.
