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  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 ev
ening 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.

  That Turpin would be unfaithful to his wife was hardly a surprise to any who knew him. After all, he had not even been faithful to Mary Stack while they were courting, and his reputation as a fit, handsome man who liked to chase, and be chased by, the ladies was well earned. However, 'managing' women was something that a man with a controlling personality like Turpin's was unsuited to, for he could hardly expect to exercise authority over every woman that he was involved with. His manager worried about his interest in women for different reasons, for it had long been assumed that too much sex sapped a fighter's strength and made him vulnerable in the ring. Most fighters were encouraged to stay away from 'female temptation' for at least five or six weeks before a bout, the belief being that this pent-up frustration would result in a ferocious outpouring of energy when it was time to fight. However, Turpin's normal schedule of regular fighting, plus his inability to pass by a pretty girl, meant that this theory was never really tested in his case. Sugar Ray Robinson, on the other hand, not only believed in the theory, he practised it. In his autobiography he wrote, 'One of the big sacrifices in being a champion is sex. If you're a fighter, you need your energy. You can't leave it with a woman, even if she's your wife.' He believed that abstinence gave a fighter both a physical and a psychological advantage. 'In abstaining from it, you're not only stronger, but you think you're stronger. You're meaner because your nervous system is on edge. And when you walk into the center of the ring for the referee's instructions and stare at your opponent, you dislike him more than ever because he's the symbol of all your sacrifices. But for a weak one, a sneaker, as trainers call them, sex works the other way. When he goes into the ring, he's got a guilty conscience. He doubts his stamina. He believes that his opponent is better conditioned than he is. Mentally, he's beaten before the bell rings.'

  George Middleton's biggest fear was that the alluring sights and sounds of New York City would prove an irresistible distraction for his fighter, for after all Manhattan was a world away from the drab, run-down, post-war East Midlands. Initially, Turpin seemed to be handling things with level-headed maturity, fielding journalists' questions and saying all the right things about the training facilities and his American sparring partners. However, as the fight drew closer things began to change. When they had initially checked into the Hotel Edison, the Turpin party had been greeted by a high society coloured lady who seemed to specialise in facilitating negro celebrities and making them feel at home. She informed George Middleton that the following morning there would be a reception in Harlem with food and entertainment where the negro 'smart set' would like to meet Randy. Although George Middleton cared little for such distractions, and would have preferred his fighter to skip the appointment, the Turpin brothers and, more importantly, Jack Solomons, were keen to oblige. Solomons feared the negative publicity if it ever leaked out that Turpin had snubbed coloured society, while the Turpin brothers were simply curious to see how coloured Americans lived. The following morning they arrived at the grand Harlem brownstone to discover that, even at this early hour, a party was already in full swing. The society host was keen to introduce the world champion to everybody present for, after all, he was the guest of honour, but she seemed particularly keen that he should make the acquaintance of a strikingly attractive young coloured woman in her early twenties called Adele Daniels, who, according to the hostess, was particularly excited to meet the world champion. Dick Turpin looked on and mentioned to George Middleton how attractive the young woman was, but Middleton's reply neatly summed up his concerns. 'A bit too good-looking,' was all he said. During the course of the next few days, Turpin appeared to be focused and the move to the Catskills took place without incident. However, George Middleton's concerns appeared to be well founded when Miss Adele Daniels began to appear whenever his fighter made a public appearance, and then, much to Middleton's consternation, Turpin began to leave Grossinger's and accompany her on private shopping trips when he had finished his daily training sessions.

  On the evening of 10 September, 1951, less than three weeks after Turpin had stepped off the Queen Mary, hostilities with Sugar Ray Robinson began anew. After the first fight in London, Robinson had candidly declared, 'You were real good. I have no alibis. I was beaten by a better man,' but Robinson had absolutely no in
tention of allowing this to happen again. Having been bullied and outmuscled in London, Robinson weighed in 3 lb heavier for this fight and was determined to master the Englishman's strength and awkward crouching style. He remembered Turpin as being 'built like a heavyweight', and he never understood how a mere 160 lb were packed into his body. 'He should have weighed 190,' said Robinson. This time Robinson was prepared for Turpin's 'ruffian' tactics and, like the 61,370 people packed into Harlem's Polo Grounds, he was convinced that he would recapture the world title that he had 'accidentally' relinquished at the end of his gruelling European tour. His confidence was reflected in the bookmaking which, despite his being the challenger, made him a heavy favourite. As referee Ruby Goldstein signalled the fifteen-round championship bout to begin it soon became clear that, although Turpin was moving well, Robinson was now in first-class condition. His punching was crisp and his attention was fully focused on the task at hand. As the rounds unfolded it was apparent to George Middleton and the champion's brothers that Turpin's work rate was not what it had been in London, for his tempo kept dropping and he was occasionally taking breaks on the ropes and simply bobbing and weaving to avoid Robinson's precise punching. An early vicious left hook by Robinson had shaken Turpin to his boots and, unlike the fight in London where Turpin had continually pressed the attack, he was spending the greater part of this fight covering up and counterpunching.