Remembering Scottish Boxer Walter McGowan (1942-2016)
By Donald “Braveheart” Stewart
With just over 30 fights and retired before he hit 30, you would be forgiven for wondering why he should have an adoring public or deemed to have had sufficient time to make his mark; but he certainly did. He was a wee man in a wee nation and Scotland loved him as much as they had other heroes like Dick McTaggart or Benny Lynch.
Walter McGowan, 32-7-1, 14 KO’s, was a wee man in size, but a giant in stature.
It is just over a year since he slipped from us in a nursing home, but memories are writ large; opinions are held longer.
Born in the height of the Second World War and brought up in a working-class district, McGowan’s rise to fame came mainly as a flyweight. He shared his stylistic approach to the boxing ring with his contemporary great, Ken Buchannan, 61-8, 27 KO’s.
There are many who would argue over who was the more able in a ring – McGowan or Buchanan – but both gave the world and their country plenty of points upon which they could debate.
For McGowan fighting was, almost magically in his blood as he was the son of a fighter – his father fought under a pseudonym – Joe Gans – in homage to another great boxer. Whilst the father was never going to contest championship bouts he gave his son a hunger and style that served him very well in his future career.
First though he had to contemplate his own size.
Walter always knew he was going to be small, so he originally looked at being a jockey. He was down the races at Hamilton regularly but by the time he was a teenager he was seen in rings with gloves on and not in racecourses in racing green; his choice had been made.
He won 122 out of 124 amateur fights including an ABA title and by 1961 it was time to go professional.
It is understandable that, with such a fantastic amateur record, he was thrown into a title fight early, against Jackie Brown in only his third professional fight for the Scottish title. McGowan lost on points; 7 fights later he got his revenge as well as the British and Commonwealth belts in 1963 in Paisley.
1964 saw him named as the official challenger for the European title against Italian Salvatore Burruni. Again, McGowan fell short and it was a points loss over the full 15 rounds and that made him think again, about size.
The next year, in 1965, he moved up to bantamweight, fought another Italian in Tommaso Galli and got a draw from the judges but gained the plaudits from the Italians who thought he won!
It was unfortunate, but by now it was clear that McGowan was a bleeder.
It may have been what helped him retire so early, but by 1966 it was far from his mind as he got in the ring again, yet another rematch, with Burruni.
This time McGowan was far better and boxed fantastically well as he won the world flyweight, the lineal championship and the Ring Magazine titles from Burruni in the Empire Pool, Wembley.
What McGowan did next was to scoop back the British and Commonwealth titles – in September 1966 he beat Alan Rudkin for them.
Then in December of 66 it was back to world level duty as he went in against Chartchai Chionoi and defended his world title. Unfortunately, as he boxed in front of the King of Thailand, in Bangkok he lost the world crown as he was stopped in the 9th with a bleeding nose.
The rematch, back in the UK was a bloody affair as McGowan bled from the eyes and the forehead throughout the fight. It was stopped in the 7th round; McGowan lost again.
He then went on to lose both the British and Commonwealth titles in 1968 in the fight of the year – another rematch – to Alan Rudkin.
Though he continued for 6 more contests, the cuts and the bleeding were taking their toll. He never lost again, and always fought against non-British boxers but the time had caught up with him.
November 1969 was his final fight against Domenico Antonio in Italy. McGowan won on points but as he came out of that ring, I wonder, did he know it was all over? Was he aware that for the very last time he was going to hear the first and fight till the last bell as an active boxer?
With 32 wins, 7 losses and 1 draw he hung up the leather gloves; he was 27 year of age. Like many former boxers he found retirement quite difficult with periods of alcoholism and dementia towards the end.
Of course, such an end sounds so undignified considering how much he gave to the sport that he loved. The shock though tells us a great deal about how much esteem he was held in and the fall meant we looked at his life, his career and got, once again proud to have had him represent aw the wee men – in Alba we hae hunners o wee men… Pure hunners BTW…*
* Translation for non Scots is: –
all the little males – in Scotland we have many little males … A great deal as it happens…
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