THE GREAT sadness about the career of Joe Bugner is that he was an excellent heavyweight and one of the best-ever British champions, but he failed to capture the heart of the nation’s boxing public.
Bugner, who passed away on September 1 at the age of 75, was perhaps never forgiven for getting the decision over the revered Henry Cooper in their 1971 title bout.
In addition, fans considered him excessively cautious. They couldn’t understand why this 6ft 4ins, 215lbs man didn’t fight with greater urgency. But Bugner had wins over good fighters in a long career that ended with a very respectable mark of 69-13-1, 41 KOs.
Bugner was born in Hungary and brought to Britain as a child after the Soviet Union invasion of his homeland. He was a schoolboy discus champion and, as an amateur boxer, although inexperienced, put up a plucky fight against the far more seasoned Billy Wells in the semi-finals of the London championships in 1967. The following year, Wells boxed for Britain in the Olympics.
There is so much one could write about Bugner.
There were his two fights with Muhammad Ali, a gutsy stand against Smokin’ Joe Frazier and, obviously, the controversial win over Cooper. After losing to Ron Lyle in 1977, there was a five-year spell in which Bugner boxed just once, but he returned in 1982, having reinvented himself as ‘Aussie Joe’ – he was now based in Australia, where he had moved with his second wife, Marlene.
It seemed Bugner’s boxing days were over after Frank Bruno rather brutally stopped him in 1987. But, no, Bugner made a comeback after eight years, even winning a championship of sorts; something called the World Boxing Federation heavyweight title.
Bugner was 48 and his opponent in the WBF title bout, Bonecrusher Smith, was 45; Bonecrusher quit after one round, claiming a shoulder injury. No one could say Bugner’s life wasn’t interesting.
I wasn’t there at the very beginning of Bugner’s pro career, but I was able to cover a number of his fights from ringside, including a tragic bout at Shoreditch Town Hall against Ulric Regis, a heavyweight from Trinidad who died from a brain injury four days after the fight.
It didn’t seem a particularly punishing contest, so it was a shock when we learned that Regis had passed away. Some believed that the Regis tragedy led to Bugner being overly cautious.
It’s a possibility. Bugner had won 11 of his last 13 bouts by KO going into that fight, which included two wins over Paul Brown, a Birmingham heavyweight of modest talent who had KO’d Bugner in three rounds in Joe’s pro debut.
I remember Bugner being offensive-minded in several of his earlier fights, especially when he blew away the Scottish slugger Terry Feeney in the first round. So, maybe Regis’ death did contribute to a certain hesitancy in Bugner, or maybe it was just that as his career progressed, he was meeting fighters who were harder to stop. It was something of a question mark.
Bugner’s manager and trainer, Andy Smith, was protective of his fighter, both from a boxing viewpoint and on a personal level. He was invariably on hand when Bugner was being interviewed and, in my experience, Andy politely but firmly steered away any questions about the Regis fight.
I have to believe that Bugner’s loss in his debut was essentially a fluke, with Brown lobbing over a big right hand and Bugner somehow getting his chin in the way. At least, that’s how it was described to me by those who saw it. Certainly, in terms of ability, there was no comparison between Bugner and Brown.
Bugner wasn’t a particularly fast or explosive heavyweight, but he was big and strong, had a sound chin (I’m disregarding the pro-debut KO loss) and an excellent jab; good fundamentals, if you will. And when he let his hands go, he could look the part of a world-beater.
The fight that, for me, stamped Bugner as a heavyweight of genuine potential was when he outpointed hulking US opponent Jack O’Halloran, of Boston, at the Royal Albert Hall in 1969.
People were shocked at how huge O’Halloran was when he arrived in the UK. Matchmaker Mickey Duff told me that he almost sacked his US agent (I believe that would have been Dewey Fragetta at the time) when Mickey set sight on the hairy chested, 6ft 6ins, 240+lbs Bostonian.
I remember that fight well. O’Halloran had quite a deft jab and Bugner, giving away almost 27lbs, struggled with the visitor’s height, reach and sheer bulk.
It was a close contest after seven rounds, but Bugner went all out in the eighth and final round, taking the fight to O’Halloran and outpunching and outfighting him. Bugner needed to win the last round to win the fight – and he won the round clearly.
Bugner went on to have wins over a string of opponents with respectable credentials. Boxers such as Birmingham’s Johnny Prescott, Carl Gizzi of Rhyl – who both boxed for the British title – Eduardo Corletti, the Italian-based heavyweight from Argentina who had sprung a surprise by outpointing George Chuvalo in London, durable George ‘Scrap Iron’ Johnson, former British champion Brian London and colourful Chuck Wepner.
These were all matches made with impeccable timing. Brian London never boxed again after losing to Bugner. Wepner was halted due to suffering a cut over the eye that referee Harry Gibbs decided was too severe to allow the bout to continue; Wepner’s manager and trainer Al Braverman angrily protested that the cut was “just a scratch”.
Perhaps it was by Wepner standards – just three months before meeting Bugner, the ‘Bayonne Bleeder’ had been allowed to continue into the ninth round despite being practically covered in blood against Sonny Liston.
Yet it always seemed Bugner never got full credit for his wins, as if critics and fans alike somehow found his performances disappointing.
The Times noted “prolonged booing and whistling” from the crowd after Bugner’s points win over Ray Patterson – Floyd’s younger brother – at the Royal Albert Hall in 1970.
Bugner was the underdog when he challenged Cooper for the British, European and Commonwealth titles at Wembley Pool in March 1971. Referee Gibbs’ decision in Bugner’s favour (by a quarter of a point under the scoring system used in Britain at the time, which was actually a one-round margin) was highly unpopular.
For me, Bugner edged it. I thought he was doing more than Cooper in the early rounds, and while the older man came on with pressure later in the fight, it was Bugner who finished stronger in the final round.
The BBC showed a full recording of the fight the next evening and Harry Carpenter’s commentary was pro-Cooper.
“The onus is on Bugner to come and take the titles,” Carpenter commented firmly at one point.
For me, this is a common misconception – that it’s not enough for a challenger to win rounds narrowly, that he has, in effect, to dominate. Carpenter’s scoring philosophy, as expressed in this fight at any rate, could explain why he was convinced that the decision in Bugner’s favour was flat-out wrong. In the 15th and final round, Carpenter declared that Bugner’s only hope was to win by knockout.
“He’s made an effort in this last round, but it’s too late to make any difference,” Carpenter informed the viewers. But Mr Gibbs deemed otherwise.
“Reputations counted for nothing, and do not forget that in this country a challenger does not have to produce something out of the ordinary to wrench away a title,” Gibbs noted in his autobiography, Box On.
“Whoever is in front at the end is the winner; there is no leaning towards a champion, but on the other hand, no leaning the other way in an attempt to be over-fair.”
But while the Cooper win didn’t endear Bugner to the boxing fraternity, I think everyone agreed that he was gallant in defeat against Frazer in their Earls Court 12-rounder in 1973. Dropped in the 10th round, Bugner rallied to buckle Frazier’s knees with a right hand.
Yet there was an inconsistency about Bugner. He put up a commendable battle against former champion Ali in a 12-round fight in Las Vegas, but drifted through 15 rounds in a passive performance in their title fight rematch in Malaysia.
Bugner was jeered after struggling to a split decision over Juergen Blin in a European title defence, but impressively knocked out Blin in the eighth round of their rematch.
He let a winnable fight slip away from him against contender Lyle in Las Vegas, but was devastating when knocking out British rival Richard Dunn in the first round.
There was an inconsistency about Bugner and too often a sense that he had more to give than he actually displayed. Frank Warren promoted Bugner in a series of fights in the early 1980s. Bugner looked good when stopping US import John ‘Dino’ Dennis in the third round on one of these shows.
“Bugner at last gave the sort of all-action, aggressive display he has often promised but rarely delivered,” Harry Mullan reported in Boxing News.
But, four months later, a much smaller Marvis Frazier outhustled Bugner in Atlantic City, winning every round on one judge’s card.
Looking good one moment, disappointing the next. That seemed a pattern in Bugner’s career. His last major fight came against Bruno on a Barry Hearn promotion at Tottenham Hotspur football stadium in October 1987.
Now 37 years old, Bugner held the Australian flag aloft in the ring before the bout. He was game but no match for the younger, more powerful Bruno, who belaboured him into defeat in eight rounds.
In what I thought was a touching post-fight interview, Bugner said he would retire (well, he did for eight years). “I think the fans will miss me tremendously, because I think they always need a bad guy in the gang – and I was it,” Bugner said.
And that was Joe Bugner. He took the blows, he took the boos, but he had his moments.
I’ll always remember him with affection. And, yes, the British fans surely did miss you, Joe, when you were no longer around. I believe you were right about that.
