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By courtesy of
The News, Portsmouth
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MILLS won his fight against Ingram almost
exclusively by the use of his straight left. Irritated by its
persistent application, Ingram swung and hooked with vagueness rather than
precision, and his leads were short and ill-timed.
Now Ingram was nothing if not game. Never resorting to a
clinch or a cover, as he could have been excused for doing, he took all that
came his way and battled doggedly on for round after round seeking to land
one decisive punch that might wipe out the points that were piling up
against him.
But every time he launched an attack Mills beat him to it with that
classic left, jerking Ingram's head back like a punch ball and never moving
an inch to avoid a blow if a fraction of that distance would suffice.
Mills gave an object lesson in the conservation of
energy, in striking contrast to some of the jumping kangaroos we see to-day.
A good ring general, Mills never made the mistake of mixing it with
his much stronger opponent. Instead, he gradually sapped that strength
with crisp, long-range punching.
There was little fight left in Ingram when he tottered to his
corner at the end of the final round, his features a gory ruin from the
remorseless tattoo of thudding leather he had endured.
By courtesy of The News, Portsmouth
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