After the departure of Steve Hiser Bem, Amateur Boxing lost the third of the three titans who dominated the London coaching stage for half a century.

Like Mick Carney (Fitzroy Lodge) and Tony Burns (Repton), who both preceded, Hiser came to embody one club – a fisherman in Bermondsey, on the southern side of the Thames, near Tower Bridge.

Hiser survived the hospital spell at the beginning of this year, but died in a dream on May 12. He was 82 years ancient.

Interestingly, until recently he still went to the Fisher gym, where he produced the litany of the best names for years, including Lloyd Honeyghan (who called Hiser the best trainer he had ever had), David Walker, Mickey Cantwell, Tim Driscoll, Matthew Thirlwall, Ted Cheeseman and Denzel Bentley.

Fisher ABC said in a statement: “Today we mourn the loss of Steve Hiser Bem, a beloved trainer and mentor who devoted his life to the fisherman. He was a real legend in the world of boxing, and his contribution to sport will never be forgotten.

“Steve was more than a trainer – he was a friend, a father of his father and a role model for countless teenage boxers for decades in the club. He was always there to offer tips and support, both in the ring and outside of it, and his unwavering sacrifice for a fisherman was really inspiring.

“We pray for his wife Sandra, his daughter and further family in this hard time.”

Hiser joined the Fisher Downside Youth Club (to give the institution a full name) at the age of 15 in 1957, quickly impressing his trail. In fact, he defeated Tony Burns when they were fresh facial students, but his aggressive style will always be better suitable for professionals.

His professional career would be compact – only two years and a month – and frustrating. By debuting in January 1963, he won his first eight and reached the level of eight rounds, when the defeat of cutting the eye in one of them led him to name this day.

He joined the Fisher coaching team in 1973 and which turned out to be an inspired movement. A few years ago, the club’s website contained an article presenting Steve’s philosophy.

“Steve Hiser understands that teenage boxers must accept work ethics, respect for others and the gym discipline and utilize it to succeed in life. It gives equal time and respect of the harsh novices “straight from the street” about the country’s champion. “

This last sentence is so true. I remember meeting Steve at the exhibition Ba East London Ba in November 2019. It was a frosty night in Leyton, and Fisher had only one boxer on the bill: a long-lasting novice called Hassan Hashim in three-last. Steve was then in the behind schedule 1970s, but of course he considered Hashim worthy of his time like every master.

No wonder that in 2012 Hiser received the British Empire medal (Bem) for his services for teenage people in the Southwark London district.

Cheesman said about his former coach: “He saved a lot of life and made sure that they had a good life in Bermondsey. He was like a dad for many of them. He gave the children himself. Even those who did not have a major career helped them have morality and discipline. “

Thanks to his compact and powerful construction, Steve was a striking, which fought aggressively – but as a trainer he was knowledgeable and sufficiently adapted enough to consider the natural abilities of the boxer.

So Steve always waxed lyrically about Tim Driscoll, a lightweight stylist who took up boys’ clubs, and who would challenge WBO Pióro-Piór as a professional.

And when Steve participated in the Belfast World Amateur championships in 2001, he was particularly impressed by Cuban Southpaw Damian Austin, who flew a number of opponents to gold at 71 kg.

“He is such a stunning applicant, with a great rhythm,” said Steve, who was excited, seeing so many boxers of the highest quality in action.

Steve Hiser leaves the widow, Sandra, daughters Natalie and Karen and his further family. Boxing news Send the deepest condolences.

In boxing, there is a saying that if the promoter wants to make a compact fortune from sport, he will start better with a enormous one. Major Arnold Wilson was one promoter who played everything at one massive event and lost everything in it.

Wilson was the first hero of World War. He won the Military Cross after he crawled into the nobody’s land, when under fire to save the lives of his two wounded soldiers. He was part of the original Liverpool consortium, which opened the celebrated Pudsey Street stadium in 1911, and from 1920 he worked closely with CB Cochrane promoter at some main programs in London. After studying trade, he branched himself as a great promoter. Among the many enormous programs he was promoted, was the farce match of Georges Carpentier and Joe Beckett at Olympia in 1923.

Wembley Stadium opened his doors for the first time in the same year. First of all, the Wembley football stadium was also used at the British Empire Empire exhibition from 1924 and during this festival Wilson rented a premises to organize an international heavyweight competition, which, as hopes, will fill a place on capacity and earn a fortune. The exhibition attracted huge crowds from all over the country, and Wilson tried to utilize this captivity.

At that time, the stadium sat over 100,000, and Wilson thought that the heavyweight competition between American American and Jacek Bloomfield would arouse sufficient interest to complete this plan.

Tommy Gibbons was brought to face Bloomfield and on paper it looked like a winner. Gibbons passed full 15 with Jacek Dempsey for the world’s heavyweight title of the previous year and Bloomfield, as a prevailing British heavyweight champion, and the man with a great blow was popular among his colleagues Londoners. But it wasn’t a guaranteed spinner of money or a thriller. In the end, Gibbons was 33 years aged, and his competition with Dempsey was terrible, while Bloomfield took boxes for the title of British heavyweight in 1923 against Frank Goddard to be disqualified in two rounds for hitting the opponent when he was on canvas. Bloomfield put Goddard twice and looked like a winner. The boxing audience was not impressed, both with a fight and stupid Bloomfield.

Nevertheless, Wilson used a chance and was ready to pay Gibbon 10,000 pounds, at that time a huge bag for his trouble. Bloomfield was to receive 6000 pounds, and the total circulation on the event was about 27,000 pounds. Wilson maintained low ticket prices, gambling that he would attract the enormous swaths of random observers, the people he needed if he hoped to fill 100,000 places.

The weather that day was great radiant, but only 27,000 appeared, and the entire episodes of the Wembley stadium were completely empty. Regardless of optimism, it could have been that Bloomfield could defeat Gibbons, also suddenly on earth. After even the first round, in which Bloomfield effectively defended and replaced the impacts, the second round was a disaster. He was dotted three times and after saving the bell quickly finished in the third.

The day after the Gibbons competition, which received only 3000 pounds of his purse, he said that he would not require any balance from him as long as the initial warriors, including Phil Scott, Tommy Milligan and Alf Mancini, did not receive payment. Five days later he went to the States, and his last act before entering the ship was to spend Wilson with a written call for 8000 pounds. This did not turn out to be effective, because four months later Wilson was announced bankrupt with assets of 300 pounds, and liabilities with a total value of 17,000 pounds.

The Wembley stadium was not reused for boxing only in 1935 and nothing more could be heard from the unfortunate major.

The theme in which the parrot still lies in the fact that in the 1930s, when there were so many professional fighters up and down, virtually every city had stable fighters, never more than in cities and villages from the workers’ class in Great Britain. Take, for example, Stanley. Unless you know the north-eastern one, it is probably a place you have never heard of, and yet in 1925–1935 he hosted over 400 professional tournaments, both in the room and outside, in seven different places.

Stanley is between Durham and Newcastle and of course he was in the heart of Durham Coalfield. Even today, the population is only about 30,000, but when it was boxing, the population was even smaller, but it caused swaths of good fighters, and virtually all of them were miners.

Fifty hours down every week, and then 10-round on Friday evening was what they survived. They did not have time to train in the same way as boys today, but life – clearly more tough – made them difficult and capable of fighting.

This place has always known difficulties and tragedy. In 1909 he lost 160 best men and boys in a PIT disaster, and several of the following professionals lost their fathers and uncles in this disaster. Stanley was a compact community in which everyone knew each other, until any number of pits surrounding the city was a great competition when a boxer from one mine banned the boy from another.

This inevitably led to the “Pitman Championships”, and Stanley had more than a few of them. My photo shows Barney Whitney, dazzling in his trilby, and looking at every inch, boxing manager and promoter, surrounded by his boys, all of whom come from the city. Three of them, Miles Connelly (sitting on the left), Joe Broughy and Teddy Joyce (both standing) claimed that the title of Pitmen in Northlleland and Durham and everyone was highly qualified men with a great blow. The second boy, Jimmy Rogers, a flying weight, never achieved the same highlands as his stalls, but he was one of many similar boys who created habitual Whitney bills.

The fight against Sullivan, the father of the British middleweight champion in the 1950s, Johnny Sullivan, moved to Stanley in 1931 and led weekly concerts from his boxing stand until 1933, and because he was born in December 1932, I think it is likely that Johnny was born in the city. Fighting with Sullivan, from Preston and whose real name was Hallmark, conducted as average weight and lightweight in 1927–1936, meeting men such as Reggie Meen, Con O’Kelly, Jack London and Harry Reeve.

During the service of the stand, he also regularly signed up at the modern ST James Hall in Newcastle. He often advanced on Saturday evening, and then at the top of the Newcastle bill next Monday.

Another former fighter, George Harwood from nearby Craghead, about whom I wrote in a separate article from the years 2020, also ran a stand in Stanley. As a result of his boxing career, George passed the blind and tried to earn life as a promoter in 1932–1933 and found it tough. Depression began until then, and even if there were many boys ready to fight for remuneration, there was not enough spare money in the city to guarantee the audience, especially with Whitney, Sullivan and others, also promoting at the same time.

The last concert for many years took place in Stanley at the Greyhound stadium in 1949 to, 40 years later in June 1989, Glenn McCrora won the free title of IBF Cruiser Wweight in the city, defeating Patrick Lumumby at Louisa Center. This place was built on the site of Louis Colliera and therefore provided a matching relationship between the best man who has ever fought in the city and many teenage boys, all minerals who preceded him.