Boxing Nicknames: Kid Chocolate was No Bon Bon

The history of boxing boasts a colorful assortment of powerful and menacing nicknames, but some monikers are laughably inappropriate and highly inaccurate. Others are downright silly. You might even wonder “What were they smoking?”

Keep in mind that boxers rarely pick their own nicknames. It’s generally considered bad form and even arrogance. One notable exception is Muhammad Ali, but The Champ was considered brash and arrogant when first he proclaimed “I am the Greatest.” However, Ali backed up his claims and in time, just about everyone agreed he was the Greatest. Ali was also known as The Louisville Lip for his penchant for mouthing off and arguing with opponents and sportscasters.

Here are some picks from Fikkle Fame for nicknames that don’t really do much justice to the boxer:

Kid Chocolate (say choc-o-lotte) was a 1930s Cuban boxer who won the Jr. Lightweight championship in July of 1931, as well as New York’s featherweight title in 1932. His real name was Eligio Sardiñias y Montalvo. Kid is a common enough boxing nickname and Eligio was not the first or last boxer to be called Chocolate either. There’s a middleweight, Peter Quillin, who is called the new Kid Chocolate (say choc-o-lit), so why was Eligio’s nickname one of the worst? He was called the Cuban Bon Bon. Kid Chocolate was often criticized for his wild party ways during his short heyday, but in spite of them, he managed to rack up an impressive record of 136 wins (51 by knockout), 10 losses and 6 draws. The Kid was no creampuff in the ring so let’s lose the Bon Bon part.

Sam Langford was an outstanding boxer, also from the early 20th century. Jack Johnson beat him once but refused to take him on again. Jack Dempsey said Sam was the only boxer he feared facing in the ring and he never did. Sam was called the Boston Bonecruncher and the Boston Terror, but was most well-known as the Boston Tar Baby. In the old Uncle Remus story, the Tar Baby was a doll made of tar and turpentine that Brer Rabbit got stuck to when he punched it, so it meant the harder an opponent tried to fight him, the worse it got for the opponent. Even in his old age, Sam Langford was affectionately referred to as “the old Tar Baby” in Jet Magazine. Sam was discovered living in poverty and going blind in Harlem and money was raised to help him. The term has since caused controversy as a racial slur and the Uncle Remus tales have fallen into near oblivion. So his Bonecruncher and Terror nicknames work better these days. The funny thing, though, is Sam was not even from Boston originally. He was from Weymouth Falls in Nova Scotia, Canada.

Mississippi native, Henry Jackson, Jr. began boxing as Melody Jackson. He later switched to Henry Armstrong, and embarked upon a fearsome career which would earn him handles such as Hammerin’ Hank, Hurricane Henry and Homicide Hank. The worst out of these is a toss-up between Melody Jackson and Homicide Hank, but Melody was his real middle name. Perhaps Homicide Melody would have been the worst. In any event, Homicide is not a good choice for any boxer. (Look up Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini). Henry Jackson, Jr. holds the distinction of being the only boxer to hold 3 titles at the same time and also, for defending the Welterweight championship more than any other boxer. Maybe they could stick with Hurricane Henry for him.

Next we have all the boxers who have been named after their occupations. It’s hard to imagine them wanting to be constantly reminded of some of these jobs. There’s Carmen Basilio aka the Upstate Onion Farmer and Fred Apostoli aka The Boxing Bellhop. Of course, there are exceptions. Even after 13 years in the ring, Tony Thornton, The Punching Postman, worked for the post office in Bellmawr, NJ. Tony passed away after a motorcycle accident in August 2009. He liked his job and was amused by his nickname. Tony once told a reporter: “There were other names, like ‘TKO Tony’ and ‘Thunder Thornton,’ but the ‘Punching Postman’ stuck.” Well, if a boxer doesn’t think his nickname is the worst, who are we to complain? Besides, it really could be worse.

Take Garth Panter, a talented pugilist described by boxing historian, Mike Casey, as “a tough crowding fighter.” Garth was called the Toy Bulldog. When you compare that to Jake LaMotta’s moniker, the Raging Bull — well, it’s just another one of those “what were they smoking?” moments. Garth’s other nicknames, Ol’ One Punch and Mr. Perpetual Motion, were so much better.

It’s a natural thing to have preconceived notions about some words, so those who confer nicknames would do well to consider a boxer’s eventual legacy before handing out nicknames like Prettyboy and Honeychile.