Jack Johnson stands as a monumental figure in the annals of boxing, embodying a spirit that seems plucked straight from a bygone era of legends. Born in 1878 to parents who had been slaves, this native of Galveston, Texas, defied societal norms by becoming the first Black world heavyweight champion. His journey was marked by determination, intelligence, and an unyielding desire to forge his own path. Johnson’s story is one of incredible achievements, especially when considering the deeply racist environment of the times, and he moved through life with an indomitable self-belief, undeterred by the prejudices of society. He battled much more than just his opponents in the ring, and on most occasions, he emerged victorious.
Intent on escaping the poverty that defined his family’s life, Johnson took up boxing as a way to make money. His early days were spent in brutal bar fights, where blindfolded Black men fought for the amusement of drunken white audiences. The last man standing would earn a bit of the earnings, and Johnson often found himself as the last fighter in the ring. Progressing to more formal bouts, he defeated John ‘Klondike’ W. Haynes, the self-proclaimed ‘Black Heavyweight Champion,’ in 1900. But a pivotal moment in his career came in 1901 when he was knocked out by Joe Choynski, a respected heavyweight. Both were arrested due to the illegal nature of the fight, and during their shared time in jail, Choynski mentored Johnson on becoming a more defensive fighter. Choynski was astounded by Johnson’s agility and predicted he should never get hit, given his graceful movement.
Johnson developed a unique style that set him apart. Instead of launching into aggressive attacks from the start, he often toyed with his opponents, engaging more with the audience than his rival. This tactic was strategic, allowing him to stretch bouts and maximize financial gain. As a fight wore on, he’d unleash his power and skill in the later rounds, easily dispatching less capable opponents.
Standing tall and muscular, Johnson was capable of delivering devastating punches, yet his fighting style was often dictated by circumstance. He carefully managed bouts with lesser white opponents to avoid angering predominantly white crowds, sometimes physically supporting opponents to lengthen the fight. But when provoked, he could respond with overwhelming ferocity. A famous tale recalls his 1909 “exhibition” match with Stanley Ketchel, where a mighty punch from Johnson allegedly dislodged Ketchel’s teeth, leaving them embedded in Johnson’s glove.
In 1903, Johnson claimed the World Colored Heavyweight Championship by defeating Denver Ed Martin, paving the way for victories over the likes of Joe Jeannette, Sam McVea, and Sam Langford. These victories marked the zenith for a Black heavyweight, as the opportunity to fight for the true world title remained out of reach, held then by James J. Jeffries who, like his predecessor John L. Sullivan, refused to face Black fighters. Johnson persistently challenged Jeffries, who declined every time, even after Johnson defeated Jeffries’ own brother in Los Angeles. Jeffries maintained he would not tarnish the heavyweight title by facing a Black man.
Johnson’s seismic opportunity came post-Jeffries’ retirement, as Tommy Burns took over the championship. Though initially reluctant due to financial reasoning, Burns eventually agreed to fight Johnson when offered a hefty purse by Australian promoter Hugh D. McIntosh. In 1908, in Sydney, Johnson won effortlessly, bewildering the white public as a Black man secured one of the most prestigious titles in sports, challenging the entrenched racial hierarchy of the time.
The necessity for a ‘Great White Hope’ became critical for the white public, leading to Jeffries shedding an astounding 100 pounds to return for a match against Johnson on July 4, 1910, in Reno. Billed as “The Fight of the Century,” Johnson systematically thwarted Jeffries over 15 rounds before Jeffries’ corner conceded. Jeffries conceded, “I couldn’t have reached him in a thousand years.” There was no doubt about Johnson’s superiority, and even John L. Sullivan admitted that Johnson had fought with honor. Despite enduring racial slurs throughout the match, Johnson maintained his composure and smiled, even under duress. However, the victory incited riots across America, resulting in the deaths of over two dozen people, most of whom were Black, raising questions whether these conflicts were genuine riots or celebrations mischaracterized by a resentful white public.
Johnson’s endeavors continued, though he ultimately lost the title to Jess Willard in Cuba. His career record stands at 73 wins, 13 losses, and 10 draws, with many losses occurring late in his life when his peak skills had waned. Nevertheless, the breadth of Johnson’s legacy surpasses this brief recounting. He was a fiercely independent man, whose open relationships with white women subjected him to significant, sometimes life-threatening, risk. His curiosity extended beyond boxing, as reflected in his forays into fashion, invention, and literature. Not just a boxer, Johnson—always adamant on living as a free individual—died in a car accident in 1946.
