What I watched: The 1946 heavyweight title rematch between Joe Louis and Billy Conn. The fight was broadcast on June 19, 1946, on local New York television (probably NBC?). A Pathe film version is available on YouTube.
First, a note on method: Sports are a vital part of television history, from the dominance of live sports on early TV to the mammoth rights deals of today. Similarly, television is a vital part of sports history. However, the archive of sports on TV is partial and inaccessible, particularly when compared to scripted programming. It’s hard to find full games and events from seven years ago, let alone seventy. That makes sports problematic for an exhaustive survey like this – they can’t be left out, but often there’s not much to go on.
One exception to this is boxing. Because big boxing events were rarer than, say, baseball games, and because of an active culture of tape-trading amongst boxing fans, there are filmed boxing fights going back to the nineteenth century. Also, boxing is a sport I actually follow. So I’ll be regularly checking in on big boxing matches that aired on TV, and also use the occasion to note other important moments in televised sport.
What happened: In 1941, Billy Conn had given up his light heavyweight title to challenge Louis, despite not putting on any weight. Even more remarkably, he did very well against Louis. Most observers had Conn outpointing Louis through twelve of the first fifteen rounds, out-maneuvering the bigger man. And then, in the thirteenth, he went wild looking for the knockout and got knocked out himself, committing one of the most infamous mistakes in boxing history. After the fight, Conn jokingly attributed it to Irish “thickness”, but it speaks to the psychological effects Louis’s invulnerable image had on his opponents.
If the newsreel footage is any indication, the rematch wasn’t the most scintillating encounter. Most boxing writers would note that both men’s skills had declined since 1941 due to a mixture of age and ring rust. Despite watching combat sports for a decade, I don’t have the grasp of technical nuances that a writer like Connor Reubetsch does, but it seems to me that Louis was reluctant to engage. When Conn did move forward, however, he came out the worse from the exchanges, stung by Louis’s superior power. This stalemate continued with occasional interruptions until the eighth round, when Louis finally cracks Conn and knocks him out after another failed attack.
What I thought: For a Southern Ontario kid like me, the name “Joe Louis” immediately conjures up the image of semi-plastic French Canadian snack cakes. But for Americans in the 1930s and 40s, it had a whole bunch of other connotations. Louis was the heavyweight boxing champion of the world, at a time where this put one among the most famous men in the world. His accomplishments – eleven years as champion, with twenty-five title defenses – were almost mythical, cultivating an air of invincibility. More than that, Louis was a symbolic figure. He became an icon for American racial diversity and inclusivity, particularly through his rivalry with German Max Schmeling and service in World War II. Unlike the previous black heavyweight champion, Jack Johnson, he was palatable enough for white Americans to embrace him. He became a symbol of resilience in a trying era.
Of course, like any myth, one can pick away at it with fact until it becomes a shadow of its former self. Louis was undoubtedly the greatest heavyweight of his era, but his record-setting reign was inflated by the four-year gap of World War II and a number of sub-par opponents (the famous “Bum of the Month Club”, including – and I am not making this up – a man named “Johnny Paychek”). To describe the Louis/Schmeling rivalry as antiracism vs. racism is a simplification, albeit an inspiring one for African-Americans at the time: Louis represented a country that was still deeply segregated, and Schmeling was no Nazi. But Louis is such an iconic figure that these facts seem like quibbling.
Billy Conn is a less frequently remembered figure. He was the light heavyweight champion in a period where this was seen as a stepping stone towards the much more prestigious heavyweight gold. The heavyweights were put on a different level than other weight classes in the early era of boxing, and this wouldn’t change until at least the 1980s. Instead, he is most remembered as the man who came close to dethroning Louis but fell tragically short.
This particular match was a massive event, taking place at Yankee Stadium. From a sporting perspective, the intrigue was in seeing if Conn could replicate his success in the first fight and not make the same mistake. But the fight also had a sentimental importance. It was the first fight for both men since the end of World War II, and as such a resumption of the normal flow of American life. As with so many boxing matches, it was also a clash between two ethnic minorities (African-Americans and the Irish diaspora) that were both heavily represented in New York.
The fight also has an important place in TV history. It was broadcast on television throughout New York, and an estimated 146, 000 people watched this broadcast in bars and other public places. This was at the time the most-watched television program, as well as the most-watched boxing match, in history. We don’t know exactly what they saw, but we do know that a hundred thousand plus were exposed to the promise of television, a device that could bring exclusive events into their homes. This fight didn’t instantly put a television set in every household, but it was the beginning of an explosive growth in television that would take the better part of the next decade.
If the Internet had been around in 1946, there might have been a backlash towards Louis for this lackluster performance, and by the time he fought next there would probably be a consensus that Louis sucked. But Louis, while never again appearing as dominant as he once had, would remain a popular athlete on top of the boxing game for another five years. Conn, on the other hand, had essentially reached the end of his career, and would retire after two more fights and an exhibition bout with Louis. Louis and Conn would both be inducted into the Hall of Fame, but there’s no question that the former eclipses the latter in boxing history. When it comes to the history of television, however, both men stood together in a crucial origin point.
The year in televised sports: There was a good deal of sports on television in 1946 besides Louis-Conn, even if few saw it. The BBC, having resumed broadcasting this year, aired Wimbledon, England cricket tests that took place in London, and a few amateur soccer matches (although not the FA Cup, soon to be a fixture on British television.) US networks broadcast a lot of local sports, although schedules from this era are hard to come by. I haven’t been able to find much video footage for these events, but British Pathe has newsreels and some B-roll footage for Wimbledon. Apparently this was before they figured out where to put the camera for tennis matches.
What else is on?: In New York, WNBT’s broadcast of the Louis-Conn fight was opposed only by an unspecific “Film” on WABD. Other parts of the country would have to wait for the newsreel.
Coming up next: Glimpses of the BBC’s first year back.
The Eternal Couch Potato 