Foreigners (12 page)

Unfortunately, Turpin's victory in the courtroom was
not matched by his performance in the ring. In the middle
of this turbulence, in April 1948, having amassed an
outstanding record of eighteen wins and one draw since
his professional debut two years earlier, Turpin lost on
points to a relatively unheralded journeyman named Albert
Finch. The newspapers claimed that Turpin fought as
though his heart was no longer in boxing, and they speculated
that although his older brother Dick was his next
logical opponent, it appeared as though there was some
kind of agreement that the two would not fight one
another. In fact, it was their mother, Beattie, who had
drawn a promise from both Dick and Randy that they
would never 'go at each other' for money, but his reluctance
to fight his brother had not contributed towards
Randy's loss of form. Those close to Turpin knew that
the real reason behind the fighter's shocking capitulation
to Finch was Turpin's frustration at his inability to persuade
his wife to accede to his demands. In every other area of
his life Turpin was able to insist that people follow his
line, but there was something humiliating about his failure
to control young Mary Stack, and it caused him anguish
to the extent that he was incapable of fully concentrating
on his boxing career.

The loss to Finch in April 1948 was followed by an easy
victory over an unimpressive opponent, Alby Hollister, and
then in September 1948, as the contentions court case with
his wife drew to a conclusion, he turned in possibly the
worst performance of his boxing career against a modest
fighter named Jean Stock. To those who looked on at ringside
it was barely conceivable that the man they were
watching was the feared 'Leamington Licker'. For the first
four rounds Turpin was continually bullied, beaten, and
knocked over, and at the end of the fifth round, much to
everybody's astonishment, he simply gave up and retired.
As in the case of his shocking loss to Albert Finch some
five months earlier, career obituaries were prepared for him,
but most pressmen acknowledged that it was Turpin's fragile
mental state, not his physical prowess, that was the source
of the crisis. In fact, in the dressing room, before the bout
against Jean Stock had even begun, Randy had told his
eldest brother that he did not want to fight and he would
not be at all surprised if he lost. Dick tried to pull Randy
together, as did Jackie, but they both understood that the
humiliation of Mary having been awarded custody of
Randy Junior earlier in the day was weighing heavily on
their brother's mind. As it transpired, the result of the
fight was an even greater embarrassment than the earlier
loss to Albert Finch and, for the first time in his life,
Turpin decided to take a prolonged break from boxing in
an attempt to make sense of his personal life and gain
some peace of mind.

After a five-month layoff, Turpin returned to the ring
in 1949 determined that he would avenge his two defeats
and re-establish himself as a championship-class fighter.
He fought and won convincingly eight times in 1949, and
then four times in 1950, before being once again matched
against Albert Finch, who had recently beaten his older
brother, Dick, to become the British middleweight champion.
On 17 October, 1950, a dominating victory over Finch
established Turpin back at the top of the British rankings.
Peter Wilson's report in the
Daily Express
reflected the
general enthusiasm which greeted Turpin's victory. 'Turpin,
shaven-headed, his sleek brown body gleaming, his blackgloved
fists weaving a deadly pattern of destruction through
the smoke-scrawl over the ring, looked like some coppercoloured
warrior of the Frontier days . . .' Just over four
months later, on 27 February, 1951, in an astounding display
of menace and brutality, Turpin defeated the Dutchman
Luc Van Dam in only forty-eight seconds to become the
European middleweight champion. The ferocity of Turpin's
assault was such that the Dutchman was unconscious in
the ring for a full ten minutes, and the doctor had to
attend to him where he lay. Turpin then knocked out his
former adversary Jean Stock in five rounds, thus avenging
his earlier defeat, and he quickly followed up this victory
with three more sensational knockout wins. It was clear
that there was nobody left in Britain, or Europe, who was
a match for the twenty-two-year-old from Leamington Spa,
and talk now began to turn to the possibility of Turpin
moving up in weight. However, before this idea could be
seriously considered, the London promoter Jack Solomons
hit upon the unlikely idea of the young coloured boy tackling
the great Sugar Ray Robinson.

After the mayor's victory reception at Leamington Spa
Town Hall, Randolph Turpin stayed 'home' for a few days.
He and Jackie would often take a purposeful walk down
to the Cassino Milk Bar, where crowds of girls would
gather around to bask in the aura of the town's most
famous son. Although to many, particularly some of the
older townsfolk, Randolph Turpin would never be anything
other than a coloured bully, his unexpected success meant
that he now walked tall in Leamington Spa. The weekend
after his victory he fulfilled a promise to a friend, Charlie
Hickman, by putting in an appearance at his fairground
boxing booth, which was visiting nearby Kenilworth. All
three Turpin brothers had, in common with most fighters
of the period, earned extra 'illegal' money taking on
allcomers at the boxing booths. The heavy drunks provided
smaller 'pros' with a chance to hone their evasive skills and
practise 'dirty' tactics such as butting or elbowing, or hitting
in the 'breadbasket' so that they could keep these bigger
men at bay. When Turpin appeared at Charlie Hickman's
booth the crowds were astonished, and could scarcely believe
their luck that they were being presented with an opportunity
to witness an actual world champion who, although
he did not box, refereed two bouts. But Turpin's days of
levity and indulgence, which revolved almost exclusively
around casual encounters with 'birds' and triumphant public
appearances, soon came to an end when George Middleton
informed his fighter that Robinson had inserted a clause
in the contract which guaranteed that, in the unlikely event
of a defeat, there would be a rematch within ninety days.
Having consulted with Jack Solomons, the two men had
decided to honour the clause and had therefore signed to
fight a rematch in two months' time in New York City.
They could have simply ignored the clause and taken a
few easy title defences in Europe before eventually agreeing
to meet Robinson, but George Middleton felt duty-bound
to honour the contract and the money being offered for
the rematch was astronomical by any standards. It was
proposed that Turpin would be paid $207,075, while
Robinson, despite being the challenger, would receive the
larger amount of $248,491.

Almost immediately, Turpin returned to train at Gwrych
Castle in Wales where Leslie Salts quickly erected a new
sign which read:

COME AND MEET A WORLD CHAMPION
AT SUNNY GWRYCH CASTLE.
HAVE YOUR PHOTO TAKEN WITH RANDY TURPIN

Visitors arrived in their thousands, and after long days
working out, Leslie Salts sometimes had Turpin autographing
photographs late into the night. Salts claimed that all of the
money from the sale of Turpin's photographs was going to
the Blind Institute, although both Jackie Turpin and George
Middleton had their doubts. Turpin was a good trainer, and
he was always out of bed early and ready to do his exercises
overlooking the Irish Sea and, much to George Middleton's
relief, it appeared that Turpin's relative isolation in Wales was
enabling him to refocus his mind on the task at hand. Every
few days the press would appear at Gwrych Castle and Turpin
would tell them about how he had been relaxing by spending
time in the petting zoo at the castle, or amusing himself
with some knife-throwing or archery. He said that in the
evenings he listened to music or went to the local pictures,
or simply read his Tarzan comic books. What he did not
tell them about were the young local girls with whom he
amused himself, and the vast number of photographs that
Salts encouraged him to sign. However, despite the official,
and unofficial, distractions in the castle, Turpin remained an
assiduous trainer and towards the end of July he even fought
an exhibition bout in Portsmouth on a bill that was topped
by his brother Jackie. After a month's intensive work, the
Turpin entourage was ready to sail to the United States where
Britain's middleweight world champion would make his first
title defence.

On 15 August, 1951, the
New York Times
announced the
departure of Turpin from Britain. 'Wearing a black beret
at a rakish angle, the quiet, smiling champion waved
goodbye to cheering crowds as he boarded a train for
Southampton. Tomorrow he will leave England on the
Queen Mary
for New York. In an unusual outburst of
oratory, Turpin told fans, "Well, I'm on my way at last
and I will not let the British people down. I'm going to
win."' The passage on the luxury ocean liner was largely
uneventful, but because they were travelling in first class
the Turpin party were made to feel extremely comfortable.
Both Dick and Jackie Turpin were among the fighter's
team, along with George Middleton, and Jack Solomons
and his wife, but Leslie Salts had decided to fly to New
York. Everybody, except Turpin himself, seemed to feel
that things would be better if the irritating Leslie Salts
had stayed at home in Britain, but fearful of upsetting
Turpin's mental state nobody had dared to make the suggestion.
The
Queen Mary
possessed a fully equipped gymnasium
and so, after doing 'roadwork' on the deck early each
morning, Turpin was able to keep up his training routine.
Flying, of course, was not a possibility for Turpin, or any
fighter, for since the tragic death of the French boxer
Marcel Cerdan, as he crossed the Atlantic on an ill-fated
flight to New York, promoters had insisted that boxers
minimise all travelling risks. The afternoons on board the
Queen Mary
dragged, and formal dinners with evening gowns
for the ladies and tuxedos for the men were an interesting
novelty for the Turpin boys, and they took great care to
make sure that they were always immaculately dressed. After
seven days, on 22 August, 1951, the
Queen Mary
docked on
the West Side of Manhattan and Randolph Turpin set
foot on American soil for the first time.

On reaching New York City, the Turpin group checked
into the Hotel Edison on West 47th and Broadway, an
acclaimed and opulent hotel close to the lights and glamour
of Times Square. The art deco luxury palace, which
featured an elegant marble and steel lobby, was a hotel that
was familiar with the rigmarole of accommodating sporting
celebrities. To Turpin's great surprise, it appeared that all
of America wanted to know about this 'Limey' who had
defeated the great Sugar Ray Robinson in London, and
both radio and newsprint journalists immediately
descended upon him with questions about how he had
managed to beat Robinson in London, and how he regarded
his chances in New York. Despite his convincing victory
in their first fight, the bookmakers had Turpin pegged as
a six-to-four underdog, but not wishing to antagonise his
hosts, Turpin was careful to appear only modestly confident.
'The Battle of Nations', as the fight was advertised,
would take place at Harlem's famous Polo Grounds at 155th
Street, the home of the New York Giants baseball team,
and a place that was also a popular boxing venue. In 1923,
Jack Dempsey had knocked out Luis Firpo in front of
90,000 fans at the Polo Grounds, and the 61,370 tickets
available for the Robinson-Turpin rematch had sold out
almost the instant they went on sale. American interest
was huge, and the projected gate receipts of $767,626 had
already shattered the record for a non-heavyweight fight.

Jack Solomons and George Middleton limited the
fighter's exposure to the press and Turpin soon settled into
a disciplined training routine at Grossinger's training camp,
where the public could pay two dollars and come and
watch 'The Man Who Beat Sugar Ray Robinson' sparring.
Grossinger's was situated about one hundred miles
north of New York City, high up in the Catskill Mountains.
It was a country-club-style hotel, with a golf course, a
restaurant, and extensive acreage and outbuildings, including
an airport hangar where a ring had been constructed. An
impressive Turpin punished his four American sparring
partners and it was clear that he was in first rate physical
condition and, if anything, even stronger than he had been
for the original bout. Despite the manifold temptations
of New York City, Turpin appeared to be resisting the
lure of the city's nightlife and applying himself to his work
but, as the fight drew nearer, there
were
worries in Turpin's
camp about the fighter's mental state and, once again, the
main problem was women.

Relations between Turpin and his wife Mary had irretrievably
broken down, so much so that they were barely
on speaking terms. It was not just her allegations of Turpin's
violence towards her that had driven a wedge between the
couple, but she was unable to cope with the humiliation
of Turpin's persistent infidelity. Her tight-knit family rallied
to her side and opinions in Leamington Spa were polarised
as to the behaviour of the 'hero' Turpin towards his wife.
There were still some people who had not forgotten how
young Turpin would occasionally harass any who crossed
his path, and no amount of public glory or sporting
achievement was going to change their low opinion of him.
When his wife's allegations of violence became public,
many people shunned both Turpin and his family. However,
there were also those who regarded the Stack family with
some suspicion, and although they knew that the Turpins,
like all families, had their faults, they had no desire to see
them vilified. Whatever the rights or wrongs of the situation,
Mary Turpin had clearly taken all she could endure
and Turpin had boarded the
Queen Mary
for New York
knowing that at some point in the near future he was going
to be faced with very public, and undoubtedly expensive,
divorce proceedings.