The night James Jeffries catapulted to the world championship

                       JEFFRIES A KINGPIN 

(Los Angeles Daily Times, Sat., June 10, 1899)

By Direct Wire to The Times

CONEY ISLAND SPORTING CLUB (N.Y.), June 9 -- (Exclusive Dispatch) Big Jim
Jeffries of Los Angeles is the champion pugilist of the world. At the Coney
Island Athletic Club tonight he defeated Robert Fitzsimmons in a fast and
vicious contest that went eleven rounds. He fought with the coolness and
precision of a veteran, and at no time was he in danger of meeting with
defeat. It was a fair and square contest, marked by a brilliant display of
science on both sides, and was fairly and squarely won. The young
Californian showed himself a master at every point in the game, and won as
he pleased after he had taken the measure of his opponent.

To those who had seen him before he offered the greatest surprise. He was no
longer a clumsy, awkward boxer, hesitating to lead or to follow an
advantage, but a finished fighter, keen and alert for an opening, and swift
to take and follow an advantage when it came to him. He came to the ring in
superb condition, and the first round that he fought had no apparent effect
upon him. As he stood over the prostrate form of his bleeding and
unconscious opponent he looked fit to go on for another hour. He was
punished throughout the fight, for no man who never before met reverse,
without being hit hard and often; but he stood up to it with a lion-like
courage, and never faltered.

He showed an entirely different method of boxing. He crouched very low, with
his left arm extended, and Fitzsimmons seemed lost as to the best method of
finding him. His defense was nearly perfect. He also showed wonderful
improvement in footwork and hitting power. He was as lively as a lightweight
on his feet, and repeatedly ducked the undercutting swings of his opponent.
He has stopped cuffing and chopping. He punches and hooks and swings with
the precison of a finished boxer.

It was a great battle, and the young victor will probably remain the
champion for years to come. He has size, weight and speed, and the
comparative ease with which he defeated Fitz, whom they all feared, will
give him wonderful confidence.

Jeffries won a fortune by his wonderful victory, and furnished one of the
greatest upsets in the history of pugilistic betting. Hundreds of thousands
of dollars were placed on him at the ruling odds of 2 to 1. Fitz was
regarded as a sure winner, and was liberally backed. It was admitted that he
was at a disadvantage, as far as youth, weight and reach were concerned, but
his backers relied upon his dly. Fitzsimmons tried all his tricks and
devices, but was either blocked or countered harder than he led. After the
seventh round the young Californian had things all his own way. The eighth
round was all his. He sent the Australian staggering against the ropes with
a left-hander and again landed his left. Fitz went to his corner dazed.

Fitz came back fairly strong in the ninth round, only to be beaten back. It
was all Jeffries' way, and there was consternation in the Fitzsimmons
corner. The crowd saw the inevitable result, and there were hoarse yells for
the Californian to go in.

In the tenth round Fitz was beaten to a standstill, and it was only the call
of time that saved him. He was down twice, and was done for when he
staggered to his corner.

The end came after a minute and a half of fighting in the eleventh round. It
was left and right from Jeffries, and the Australian, who had always never
known defeat, dropped down unconscious. His seconds frantically called to
him, but their words fell upon deaf ears. Referee Siler and the timers
called off the ominous count of ten, and there was a roar of applause that
shook the building up. A new champion was heralded.

Jeffries' seconds swarmed around and embraced him, and in an instant
hundreds of spectators broke for the ring. The police stopped the advance,
and while Jeffries slipped through the ropes and ran for his dressing-room,
Fitzsimmons, still limp and unconscious, was carried to his corner. He was
some time in reviving, and then did not know he was beaten or that he had
been in a fight.

                            FIGHT BY ROUNDS

CONEY ISLAND SPORTING CLUB (Ringside.) June 9 -- When time was called for
the first round Bob dances as Jeffries feints. They break instantly, and
Jeffries is short of a left jab for the head. Jeffries is short with a left
again, but touches the wind and puts a left on the neck.

Second round -- Jeffries misses a left for the head, and Bob rushes and puts
a left on the neck and a right over the heart. Jeffries closes into a light
clinch, then, crouching, pushes a left to the stomach, but his right swing
only grazes Bob's shoulder. Jeffries rushes two lefts to the wind and then
jabs the face twice with the left. Fitz swings a right to the shoulder.
Jeffries shoots a straight left to the jaw and Bob goes down squarely. He is
soon up and starts to rush, but his left and right drives for the head are
neatly blocked.

Third round -- A clinch to open. Fitzsimmons missed a left, and Jeffries
comes back with a left on the nose, and the claret shows on Fitzsimmons'
face. Bob plants a good right over the heart, and after an exchange of
left-handers, Fitzsimmons pokes the left to the neck, and Jeffries comes
back hard on Fitzsimmons' ribs with a left, and a right to the stomach.
Jeffries jabs the left twice to the face. Jeffries puts a stiff one on the
stomach with the left and repeats it a little later. Fitzsimmons hooks a
left to the ear, and his right goes over Jeffries' head, and an instant
later Jeffries ducks another one. Now Jeffries ducks into a stiff left,
catching it on the mouth. The men were sparring at the bell.

Fourth round -- Jeffries misses a left, but ducks Fitzsimmons' right swing.
Fitzsimmons misseds a left for the stomach, and Jeffries puts a good right
over the heart. His left for the wind is stopped, but he shoots a hard left
to the neck. Fitzsimmons smiles and hooks a right to the ear: Jeffries
planting a sledge-hammer right over the heart. Another miss of Fitzsimmons'
right draws Jeffries' right to his ribs. Fitzsimmons puts a light left to
the mouth and brings his right to the ear, and Jeffries ducks into a stiff
left swing. He rushes Bob to the ropes, good footwork carrying Fitzsimmons
out of danger.

Fifth round -- Bob puts a left straight on the mouth and Jeffries misses a
left for the head. Fitz cuts the eye with his right. Both miss lefts. Bob
shoots a left to the bad eye and swings to the ear with the same glove. Bob
puts a left straight on the mouth, and Jeffries misses a left for the head.
Fitz cuts Jeffries' eye with his right. Both miss lefts. Bob shoots a left
to the bad eye and swings to the ear with the same glove. Jeffries sends a
left to the wind and a right to the ribs. Fitz rushes and puts a left on the
neck, and Jeffries misses a savage left swing.  Jeffries shoots a straight
left to Fiz's mouth and Fitz tries a left for the solar plexus. Jeffries
plants a left on the chin, then jabs the face with a short-arm left.
Fitzsimmons misses two lefts, and Jeffries hooks the right, sending Bob to
his knees. He is up in a jiffy, and Jeffries pushes a right on the ribs and
a left on the nose, Bob replying with a light left on the head. At the close
Jeffries jabs. Fitzsimmons gets a left on the stomach. Jeffries' work has
pleased his friends, but Bob's friends feel as confident as ever.

Sixth round -- Fitz was up and ready ten seconds before the gong. He swings
a right to the back of Jeffries' ear, then jabs the latter's face with the
left, Jeffries countering with his left on the mouth. Bob jabs a left to the
chin, but misses a right, and Jeffries swings a left to the forehead.
Jeffries ducks with a right hook on the ear. They swap left-facers and Bob
misses a right swing, Jeffries smashing the wind with the right. Bob puts
Jeffries across the ring.

Seventh round -- Fitzsimmons runs Jeffries across the ring, but is short
with the left, and Jeffries sends a hot left to the face. They come
together, Jeffries' right slapping Bob's side, sounding like a drum.
Jeffries barely touches the chin, Bob stopping handsomely. Jeffries clinches
against the next two leads, but Bob puts a right on the ear. Jeffries
answering with a right on the ribs. Fitzsimmons lands a light left on the
neck, then a straight left to the mouth. Both miss lefts, then swap rights
on the head. Fitzsimmons stops Jeffries' swing, and puts two lefts on the
mouth and neck, cutting the mouth severely. Jeffries' left goes over the
shoulder and Bob digs a right wickededly under the heart. The gong then
sounds.

Eighth round -- Jeffries' legs are worked upon vigorously by his attendant.
Bob puts a left to the neck, but misses a right swing. Jeffries sends a left
to the ribs. He missed a right swing. Jeffries put a left to the ribs, Bob
putting a straight one on the mouth. Bob put a left to the neck, but misses
a right swing. Bob misses a right, and Fitz jolts Jeffries with the left;
then shoots to the mouth and follows again to the jaw. There are two
clinches, and Jeffries shoves a right to the ribs, Fitz reaching the chin
with his left. Fitz sent a straight left to the eye, Jeffries touching to
the stomach with his left. Bob sent a left over Jeffries' shoulder, and
Jeffries swings his left a foot over Bob's head. A straight left on the jaw
sends Fitz reeling to the ropes. Out in the center he clinches, then swings
a hard left to Jeffries' head. The bell rings.

Ninth round -- Jeffries jabs a left on the mouth. Another left from Jeffries
to the mouth, and then he hits to the neck. The men swap rights. Jeffries'
left draws more blood from Bob's nose. Bob misses a right, and Jeffries puts
a right on the ribs. Jeffries' left finds the chin and Jeffries pokes a left
to the face. Bob comes back with a straight left on the mouth. Jeffries
swings twice with the left on the head. Fitz hooks a left to the neck. They
swap lefts on the head. Bob plants a left on the neck.

Tenth round -- Jeff springs in and hugs Bob. After the break he pokes a left
to Bob's chest, then a left to the jaw, Bob replying with a left on the eye.
Fitz misses a left hook, ducking nicely Jeff's right, and is stopped by
Bob's elbow. Bob puts a left on the cheek, Jeffries missing his answer. Fitz
misses a left and a right swing, and Jeffries jabs a left to the mouth. Fitz
crowds him to the corner. Jeffries shoots a straight to the jaw. Bob falls
flat on his back and takes eight seconds to arise. When he gets up Jeffries
swung a right to the neck, and again Bob is down. He gets up, but is sent to
his knees by a left, when he arises he clinches and the bell is heard. Just
as the bell sounds Fitz swings a wild left. Fitz is very groggy.

Eleventh round -- Fitz was up briskly for this round. He misses a left for
the head. Jeffries clinches. Fitz misses a right jab, Jeffries jolting the
neck with a left. Fitz uses a left on the stomach and a right on the chest.
Fitz misses a right, and Jeffries plants a right over the heart. Jeffries
sent a straight left to the mouth, sending Bob's head back, but Bob is still
there. He puts a left on the shoulder. Jeffries puts a right on the wind and
a left to the eye. Two more lefts from Jeffries on Bob's head, then Jeffries
jabs the left twice like lightning. Now two left swings go to the neck and
jaw, and a right swing is sent to the point of the jaw and the Cornishman
falls prone.

He falls on his side and rolls over on his back. The referee counts 1, 2, 3,
4, 5, 6. Bob rolls over. Then 7, 8, 9, 10. Fitzsimmons is out, and Jeffries
is champion of the world. The referee waves his hands to the seconds to
carry Fitzsimmons to his corner. They lift him, still unconscious, and sit
him in his chair. He revives rapidly.

Meanwhile, a shouting, cheering crowd surrounds Jeffries in his corner. Fitz
sits disconsolate in his chair, and the Californian crosses the ring and
shakes hands. Jeffries leaves the ring in the center of a shouting, howling
mob.

It was a great fight, and was fought on its merits. It is another
illustration that youth and strength are too big handicaps for age to
encounter. Fitz left the platform a few moments after the battle.

                            OUT OF THE WEST COMES A GIANT

(Associated press Night Report)

NEW YORK, June 9 -- James J. Jeffries, another sturdy young giant, has come
out of the West o whip champion pugilists. At the arena of the Coney Island
Athletic club tonight he defeated Robert Fitzsimmons, world's champion in
two classes -- middleweight and heavyweight -- in eleven rounds of whirlwind
fighting. He came to the ring a rank outsider, and left it the acknowledged
master of the man he defeated. He was never at any time in serious danger,
and after the size-up in the early rounds of the contest, took the lead. He
had the Australian whipped from the ninth round.

It was acknowledged that Jeffries would have an immense advantage in weight,
height and age, but the thousands who tipped and backed his opponent to win
were sure that he was slow, and that he would, in that respect, be at the
mercy of the pastmaster at the science of fighting whom he was to meet. He
proved, on the contrary, that he was just as fast as the man he met, and
beat him down to unconscious defeat in a fair fight.

Jeffries is a veritable giant in stature, and marvelously speedy for his
immense size. Less than a year ago he appeared in New York a great, awkward,
ungainly boy. Today he is the lithe, active, alert trained athlete. The men
who prepared him for his fight worked wonders with him. They taught him a
nearly perfect defense, improved his foot movement and instructed him in the
methods of receiving punishment. If he cares for himself he will probably be
able to successfully defend the title for many years.

The defeated pugilist was as good on the crispy morning when, on the plains
of far-away Nevada, he lowered the colors of the then peerless Corbett. He
was just as active, just as clever, just as tricky and just as fearless of
punishment. He went unfalteringly to his defeat. He was the aggressor even
at the moment when he was bleeding and unsteady, and when he was stunned by
the blows he received, he reeled instinctively toward his opponent. He was
fighting all the time, and punished his opponent, but found him a different
opponent than any he had met, and in a difficult attitutde to fight.

Jeffries fought from a crouching attitude that was hard to get at. He held
his head low, his back was bent down, and his left arm was extended. He kept
jabbing away with the left, and found no trouble in landing it. It was there
that his superior reach told. That giant arm served as a sort of a human
fender to ward off danger. He showed an excellent defense, and the ability
to use both hands with skill. He is game, too, for he never shrank from his
punishment. It was a great fight to watch, and it commenced and ended amid
scenes of intense excitement. It was all very dramatic.

The men fought before a crowd of 9,000 persons, and stood up in a great beam
of blinding white light. It was like a thousand calciums, and it showed
their great white bodies in strange relief. When the blood came it was of
more intense red than usual.

There was no suggestion of interference from the police. Chief Devery
occupied a seat by the ringside, but he never entered the ring. When it was
over he sent Capt. Kenney to clear the ring. The contest was pulled off
without wrangle, and was devoid of the brutal elements that Chief Devery
alleged that he feared.

Never was a crowd handled with greater order and less friction. It was all
perfectly orderly. There was absolutely no confusion attendant upon the
assemblage and housing of the big crowd. Several thousand of those who were
provided with tickets came to the beach late in the afternoon, and their
action relieved the pressure during the early hours of the evening. The
lateness of the hour at which the contestants were announced to appear kept
the crowd from seeking the Coney Island Club house very early, and Coney
Island, with its merry-go-rounds, Ferris wheels, gilded cafes, jugglers and
bespangled dancers, furnished ample amusement and entertainment during the
wait.

It all made a strange scene. Crowds thronged the streets and surged around
among the stands and stalls of the ready-tongued fakirs. The lights of the
curious town were never brighter and the strange devices that made
apologetic music were never worked harder. The many places where liquids
were sold were packed to overflowing, and everywhere the buzz of
conversdation was freighted with fight talk. It was on everybody's lips.
Enthusiasts touted their favorites. Here Fitzsimmons would win a walk; there
Jeffries was a sure victor. The newsboys shouted late extras that told all
about it, and fakirs offered the latest pictures of the two giants who were
to fight.

There was plenty of money read on both sides, but nobody liked the odds. The
Jeffries men wanted 2 to 1 for their money, and the Fitzsimmons men were
slow to give it. The great house filled very slowly, and it was after 9
o'clock before the police had to bestir themselves and clear the aisles.
Time seemed to drag, and the absence of any preliminary contest gave the
crowd a fight appetite. They began calling for the performance at 9:30, and
at 9:45 o'clock were demonstrative.

Jeffries was the first of the principals to appear. He came through the main
entrance and walked the length of the hall at 9:20 o'clock to an
accompaniment of cheers, while Fitzsimmons, who was accompanied by his
Spartan-like wife, gained the building and dressing room by a rear door. The
disagreement as to the conditions of clinches and breaks was discussed and
settled outside of the ring, and there was but little delay when the terms
were agreed upon.

Fitzsimmons entered the ring at 10:08 o'clock, and was made the occasion of
a rather theatrical demonstration. Julian was first, and then came the
fighter. The seconds were next in line, and then followed two men bearing a
great floral piece that was almost funeral in its appearance. It was
inscribed "Good luck to the Champion," but the flowers were wilted.
Fitzsimmons bowed ceremoniously to it.

Jeffries was next in the arena, and like his opponent, got a demonstration.
Fitzsimmons looked lanky and think, but his skin was clear, his eye bright
and his step elastic. He made a great display of American flags at his
waist. Jeffries looked sturdy and massive, and seemed a little nervous. He
got the worst of the assignment of corners, for the electric lights shown
into face, and he blinked at them in a nervous sort of way. Siler, too,
looked colorless and ill at ease.

And, without too much further delay, they began fighting for the
championship of the world.