My favorite movie when I was a kid was "The Fearless Vampire Killers," the daffy satiric Polanski movie featuring the beautiful and ill-fated Sharon Tate, about a couple of hapless vampire hunters. Years later, I got into boxing and am a bonafide fanatic. While watching "Vampire Killers" recently and squinting closely at the character playing Koukol, the hunchbacked servant, I had an epiphany: "That's Terry Downes!"
Terry Downes was a very good English middleweight at a time when the English boxing scene was considered a poor shadow of its American cousin (definitely not the case now). Mr. Downes was known (wrongly) as a pure puncher, and while there is something primal and savage about his performance in the footage available of him, there were more nuances to his game than the domestic press was willing to allow at the time. Sadly, the "Paddington Express" passed away recently, leaving Anthony DeMarco with the mantle of oldest living world champion.
The good news is that the Terry Downes who comes through in the pages of this autobiography (written with a partner) is a cockney-speaking, tough-but-lovable chap who enjoyed boxing, had a successful career as an amateur and a pro, and got out of the ring with his wits and winnings intact. Most boxing tales, and most lives, have a dark side, but Downes comes across as that rare genuine article, a guileless and good-hearted man who lived clean, loved his family, and didn't betray his friends.
The book is straightforward, with a couple of unexpected detours (he was in the American Marine Corps?!), and some tragedies along the way to the world title. Recommended, but good luck finding a reasonably-priced copy. I was lucky enough to scoop mine up from the local library on a blind lark.