BILLY CONN WAS IRISH AND HE WAS IN LOVE, THE COMBINATION CAUSED HIM TO LOSE THE WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE, JUST WHEN HE HAD IT WON

"Of all the sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these--it might have been . . ."

--John Greenleaf Whittier.

The stark truth of this famed American poet's words has been proven time and again over the years. And there is one fighter in our generation who knows better than anyone how much they mean.

Never did a young prizefighter lose so much in so little time for such a simple act of faith. An act of faith -- in himself.

Ask William David (Sweet William) Conn, better known as "Billy Conn -- The Pittsburgh Kid." Ask him about the night he made the biggest mistake of his young life in a fight with Joe Louis -- and you'll get one of the great stories of the prize ring.

A story torn out of the heart of an Irish boy, who came within six minutes of winning the richest crown in pugilism.

Billy Conn, a slightly oversized light heavyweight, was cuffing the ears off heavyweight champion Joe Louis, one night in 1941, which will be remembered as long as a fight game exists. He had out boxed and even out slugged the much heavier, harder hitting brown bomber and he needed only to stand on his feet through the 14th and 15th rounds to win the crown.

But Billy Conn was young, he was Irish -- and he was in love! This was too much to handle -- so he went out in the 13th round -- against all common sense, against the screening pleas of his gritty little manager, the late Johnny Ray -- to try and knockout Joe Louis.

There wasn't a man who faced Louis, and the latter's prime, who could stand up and slot with him. Billy Conn was no exception.

He dared challenge the lightning -- and the lightning struck him down and left him a battered and defenseless hulk just two seconds before the 13th round ended one of the really great heavyweight fights of all-time.

This one had everything. Not one of the 54,487, who paid more than $400,000 to see it, will ever forget. For they saw a part of their own lives.

There wasn't a man in that screaming mob who didn't know exactly how Billy Conn felt as he went out, round after round, and he took the play away from a man who had been built up as the fighter of the century.

Success had turned the heads of far more mature men than this handsome young Irish boy from the back alleys of the Smoky City. Lady Luck -- beautiful women -- the call of the wild, wherever it originated -- had dazzled men all over the world -- and this night was to be no different as the gladiators toured into each other in the prize fight that epitomized the promotional know-how of the master box office manipulator of them all, the late Uncle Mike Jacobs.

Billy Conn was Uncle Mike's pride and joy. Their are love affairs in sports and this most certainly was one of them. Conn came out of Pittsburgh a few years before with a handsome, boyish physique and a pretty fair record. He had won some good middleweight bouts and was fast and a better than average boxer. But anyone who had suggested putting Conn in with Louis when he first made a hit here in '39 would have been carried off to the nearest cracker factory.

Uncle Mike had a way of sensing things -- particularly when a box office dollar was concerned -- and he sensed a lot of money in this dark haired boy with the infectious Irish smile -- the face of an altar boy and the fighting heart of a combat Marine.

Let's turn back the clock for you, and rerun the Conn -- Louis fight from its inception in the keen, promotional mind of Mike Jacobs, up to its dramatic climax at the polo grounds on June 18, 1941.

After Louis had done the demolition job on Max Schmeling in their historic return bout in 1938, Joe's sailed through the following year in comparatively easy fashion. He fought four times and, despite a bad scare with Two Ton Tony Galento, won four times.

The brown bomber put John Henry Louis, who was blind in one high and never should have been allowed to fight, away in a single round in his first start in 1939. He stopped the aging Jack Roper in one, then Galento in four riotous rounds.., and finished the year by adding Bob Pastor to his list of kayo victims in 11.

Billy Conn, seated beside his manager Johnny Ray, at the Louis-Pastor fight, turned to Johnny and said: "get me that Louis. I can lick him for sure." Johnny knew fighters -- especially Conn -- and as early as 1940 might have thought that Conn could take Louis, but he wasn't ready to take the chance.

Johnny Ray had been a fine boxer in his day and he knew what Conn sensed -- that a fast-moving, good boxer who did not let Louis fight the champions own fight -- could outpoint him. Johnny, however, wanted a few more years of seasoning for Billy. He wanted him built up to 195 or thereabouts. Then he was sure Conn would win that title.

Billy beat Henry Cooper in 1940. He followed with the win over Gus Lesnevich. He scored his most impressive win by stopping the same Bob Pastor in 13 rounds and then and there cemented the chance at Louis for the following summer.

Louis was going through the motions in 41 on what became known as the "Bum of the Month" campaign. Joe fought every month on a transcontinental tour which served as a perfect build-up for his big fight of the year with Conn.

The tub thumpers including Mr. Jersey Jones, who did a sensational job on the Louis-Conn ballyhoo, made much of Louis' "slowness" and pointed out Conn was like a phantom compared to Honest Abe and would make big Joe look ludicrous.

Conn was a shop girl's delight as well, which never hurt any box office. He was photogenic and obliging, and the photogs had a field day. The fact that he had been on a winning streak for three years -- which was true, though he had beaten no legitimate heavies -- also helped the ballyhoo immensely.

At his Pompton Lakes training camp, Conn fired a daily sally of sarcastic comment in the direction of the champion. He said Joe would drop of exhaustion if the fight went past the half-way mark -- and then he'd proceed to knock him out.

Louis wasn't too impressive in training, which added to the legend that the champion might have grown weary of the monthly grind. Joe appeared shiftless and gave the impression he couldn't get overly excited about fighting the good-looking Irish boy who spent all his time popping off from the direction of Pompton Lakes NJ,

Joe simply said, "I'll take good care of Billy when I see him." Beyond that he wouldn't comment.

Johnny Ray told this writer the night before the fight, "I don't see how this kid can miss if he does what I tell him. He's got all the nerve in the world. He knows Louis can punch but he's so damn confident he thinks he can cut Louis up early and maybe stop him. I hope he'll follow orders -- if he does, he should win 10 or 12 rounds. He's that fast."

I kept all this in mind as I sat the following night at the polo grounds where Billy Conn won -- and lost -- the heavyweight championship of the world in a fight I will never forget.

Billy's bride to be, the former Mary Louise Smith, a honey-blond of Pittsburgh was there to watch Billy the kid make his great pitch at Glory. Billy had promised to bring her the title as a wedding present. Keep this in mind as you follow the progress of the fight that followed.

Louis weighed 199 1/2 and Billy only 174 when referee Eddie Joseph called them to the center of the ring for their instructions. Betting had been heavy, with Pittsburgh's big gambling horde dumping a ton of money on the market in support of their fighting Irishmen at the last minute to trim the odds on Louis to 9 to 5 at the opening bell.

Joe started out on the offense, as usual, and Conn made no secret of the respect in which he held the brown bomber. Billy looked like a streamlined Bob Pastor as he set all sorts of speed records for backpedaling in the opening frame. 

Joe raised a nasty welt on the Pittsburghers' right side with a terrific right hand just before the bell ended this frame. Billy slipped to the floor midway in this round in the Bob screamed -- thinking he'd been floored by a punch the mast he was up at one.

Anyone who gave Conn the chance at the end of the second round must've been looking at a different fight. This was all Louis and Joe stung Billy three or four times with left hooks and one wicked right to the pit of the stomach that almost tore Conn in half.  Billy ran for his life most of this round. It didn't seem possible the fight would go much further.

The fight took a most amazing turn in the third and fourth rounds, with Conn ignoring the instructions of manager Ray for the first time. After continuing in full flight for 50 seconds, Conn abandoned his bicycle and started to uppercut Joe.

He scored with a left hook and then to upper cuts. He came off the ropes to jab Louis, two to one, and then opened a slight cut in Joe's left eye. Louis landed the harder body punches when he'd get Billy on the ropes but Conn had all the best of it as he came off them -- constantly getting that uppercut home. The crowd went wild.

In the fourth round Billy gave a hint of what was to prove his downfall when he'd elected to slug toe-to-toe with the bomber. Whether from surprise or what -- I don't know -- Louis stood stock still -- and took for lefts and rights to the face -- without the return. This flurry gave Conn his best advantage of the fight--and evened it -- two rounds for each.

Louis knew, now, that this kid was nothing but trouble and in the sixth and seventh rounds the bomber went out to finish his business. He bloodied Billy's right brow with a slashing hook in the sixth and kept the pressure on all the way. The seventh was a breather for both boys and we called it even.

The crowd was on its feet for almost all of the following rounds.  From the eighth, right through the 12th round -- Conn took the fight away from Louis. Billy won four of these five frames -- losing only the 10th -- by superior infighting and by making the champion look like an amateur with swings that missed by a couple of feet.

The 11th and 12 saw Conn landing repeatedly to the head and apparently getting stronger. Louis was bewildered and, incredibly, seemed to be tiring, though Conn never had a reputation as a puncher.

The crowd by this time was in a near panic. So help me, I saw at least a dozen guys I know, just back of Louis' corner, who had bet heavily on Louis, standing up and roaring their heads off at Conn to come and get him.

This was the stuff dreams are made of. And nightmares!

It was an endless litany and if Billy heard it -- he paid it no mind. Billy Conn was on the verge of the biggest victory of his life.

He had promised the girl he loved he was coming out of that ring at champion. But that wasn't enough. He was going to win the championship by a knockout!

So appropriately the hard luck round -- No. 13 began.

The will-of-the-wisp Conn was no more. Now he was William the conqueror and he met Joe in mid-range with a right to the Chin. Joe took it and then a left hook to the head. But this time Joe was ready with a return hook -- a left that had far more steam behind it than Billy's.

This punch was the turning point of the fight. On it a tottering title went riding. Conn went backwards and the killer in Joe Louis came to life. Joe knew, then, it was now or never. He had to make Conn quit in this round -- or he'd be an ex-champion in the morning.

He went to work with both hands to the head. Conn came right back at him and for the next minute the polo grounds was like an open air or madhouse. There was one constant typhoon of sound -- screams of every kind -- as the pair of them pounded each other with head punches -- exclusively -- for a full minute.

Champions die fighting, you know -- in the Louis knew his fistic life was at stake! If he broke ground now, this Irish kid would never give him another chance.

In Conn's corner, when I stole a glance, I saw something I shall long remember. Little Johnny Ray -- who was rumored to be living on borrowed time with only one lung and a heart condition -- looked like he was about to die in his tracks.

Johnny's tasty face was a delivering mask of terror. He was a fighter and he knew what the end had to be. He knew that no man alive could slug it out with Joe -- and certainly no kid from Pittsburgh -- no kid of 174 pounds, no matter how much heart or ambition he had -- would prove the exception.

Billy Conn didn't know or care about any of this. He knew he had to knock out Joe Louis -- or be disgraced in his own eyes. So he stood there and tried to trade punch for punch.

Louis finally caught him with another left to the pit of the stomach which brought Billy's hands down and made his knees buckle.

The respite was all Louis needed. He came in with a roundhouse right that caught the fighting Irishmen on the side of the jaw. Billy -- the kid with the dream -- went down on his knees and then to his face.

There was a sudden silence. The referee started to count and when it reached five it seemed Billy might make it up. He was on his knees at six and put his left glove on the canvas to right himself.

The blood was pouring down his face and his sweating back was red and raw from the merciless symphony Louis had played on it throughout the fight.

At eight Billy heaved and got one foot under him. In a neutral corner the impassive Louis washed his gallant foe's struggle out of oblivion. He started to move forward -- but Conn failed to make it.

Referee Joseph had just tolled ten when Billy righted himself...but it was too late. On the very verge of victory his big dream had exploded in his face. He had tried -- if anything he had tried too hard -- and he had failed.

His defeat was felt personally by everyone who watched the referee half carry Billy Conn to his corner.

This was what they talked about as they made their way out of the polo grounds that night of '41. This was something that everyone understood, even the most ardent Louis fans.

Victory is one thing -- winning it big, of course, is another.

If Billy Conn had listened to little Johnny Ray.....if Billy Conn hadn't been so anxious to score a knockout for his bride-to-be....

If Billy Conn had run away for those last two rounds....

If..... If....... If........

"Of all the sad words of tongue or pen,