Ringside Report Remembers Fallen Boxing Warrior Jim Murray (1969-1995)
[AdSense-A]
By Donald “Braveheart” Stewart
In October 2020 we had, in Scottish boxing terms, a tragic anniversary of an event that we wish never happened.
In the very hotel in which he made his professional debut, on the 26th March 1993, Scottish boxer, father, brother, and son, bantamweight Jim Murray, 15-2, 5 KO’s, lost a British title fight and then lost his next fight – to remain alive. At the Hospitality Inn in Glasgow we witnessed a tragedy that was of epic proportions for his family and for the sport of boxing in the United Kingdom.
What marked this out was that never before had such a real tragedy also been the scene of a disgraceful tragedy as the end of the fight brought fighting outside of the ring to draw the curtain down on a terrible evening. The scenes of people having what we would, in Scotland, call, “a square go” with each other were the background against which the paramedics, trying to attend to Murray and of his family and supporters trying to come to terms with what had just happened, that was broadcast nationwide; that night Glasgow looked bad.
One of the most distressing of all scenes was that of Murray’s sister being manhandled away, clearly in distress and it served as a cogent reminder of what we are watching; a real life event, in real time, that reminds us of why this sport that we love is a really dangerous business.
Jim Murray 15-2, 5 KO’s, was born and made in Lanarkshire. Born in Lanark he settled in Newmains and became the toast of the town.
His first 16 fights had been the rehearsal for a night his family and the town had wanted to see for years. This British title fight with defending champion, Drew Docherty was his destiny.
He was already the Scottish bantamweight champion, having won the title in 1994 in that very same venue, the Hospitality Inn on the 18th November against Shaun Anderson. He managed to defend it once in the January of the following year against Louis Veitch at the Scottish Exhibition Centre before that fateful night in 1995.
Murray had trained hard for the fight, often seen out running in the village he was a man that everyone knew and wanted to do so well. Those that knew him, sparred with him, trained him and cared for him, called him a dedicated boxer and were aware that this night meant so much for him.
He was primed for this fight, perhaps, according to some who knew him, including his father, that he was too pumped up for that fight.
The people around him and his audience, however, saw a man who was in command in the fight throughout it. He had not over trained nor had he under trained but the coiled spring that was let loose in the ring that night had an engine like he had never had before. Some thought it was not really him…
On the 13th October Murray, who had twice knocked over Docherty, was sailing to the end of the fight and at the end of the 11th round was told by his corner, another 3 minutes and you will be British champion. On the brink of victory when tragedy struck. It was a tragedy that his superstitious mother, Margaret had warned about – she was not sure he should have been fighting on Friday the 13th.
By the later rounds there had been no tiring in him. For those in the corner it felt unnatural as Murray was unyielding
Hold on for 3 minutes and he was the British champion…
3 minutes and Jim Murray, pride of Newmains, British champion…
It was 3 minutes too far…
Caught with a shot in the twelfth and final round, he slumped to the floor. It was not a devastating punch nor one you would expect someone to fall to the canvass in quite that fashion. He slumped. It was a man who looked the peak of fitness and then the epitome of pain.
He deflated.
In seconds there were people around him. People who cared and realized there was something far wrong. His family, in the crowd, realized too but the antics of the demented few delayed sufficient calm to make the exit dignified.
On the canvass Murray was suffering a fatal bleed in his brain. He needed to get to the hospital and the ambulance took him straight there. As the family arrived to support their brother and son, one of his brothers saw red when he saw the vultures of the press who had also made their way there and were over eager to get the story. He made his feelings strongly known to the press and then was made to go apologize by his mother thereafter; we make our women of dignity.
He was alive for two days before the family agreed to switch off the life support. Jim Murray was 25 years old.
Just over a year before Bradley Stone had died of a brain hemorrhage in York Hall, London. Promoter, Frank Warren, responsible for the promotion of both fights, established the Murray Stone Fund to finance MRI scans for every British fighter in memory of both of them and in light of the fact that up until 1995, in the modern era, a British boxer had died each and every year.
It is not Jim Murray’s only legacy.
Jim Murray can still be seen in Newmains.
In bronze.
A statue to honor his time as a boxer in the town was unveiled one year later. Outside of his gym, Bradley Stone is similarly remembered in a statuesque pose.
His sister, in the BBC documentary that details his life and end remarked, “My brother died doing something he loved but the changes that came about afterwards and the MRI scans through the Murray Stone Fund mean he didn’t die for nothing. His death saved a lot of people’s lives.”
Fight: The Jim Murray Story, BBC Scotland, can be seen in some territories, here.
[si-contact-form form=’2′]