Stab and jab, Pep

Willie Pep, aka “Will O’ the Wisp” because of his defensive prowess, qualifies as one of the 20th century’s greatest boxers. It’s a shame that Pep, who died from Alzheimer’s disease last week at 84, is remembered primarily because of his incredibly dirty fights with archrival Sandy Saddler.

If the old term Pier Six brawl accurately describes a slugfest, their four bouts from 1948 to 1951 were Pier Niners. It’s astounding that both men survived to fight again, again and again, though each was suspended briefly by the New York State Athletic Commission for roughhouse tactics.

Films or tapes of Pep-Saddler reiterate the point. Rabbit punches, holding and hitting, rubbing the laces of a glove or sticking a thumb into the other guy’s eyes and hitting on the break were standard procedures for both men — and that was just for starters. They did so much wrestling in the ring that pro grapplers like Gorgeous George and Antonio Rocca must have been insanely jealous.

Saddler won three of the fights — all for the featherweight championship of the world — but really there were no winners. Both are members of the Boxing Hall of Fame — Pep’s lifetime record was 230-11-1, Saddler’s 144-16-2 — but the mere mention of either’s name conjures up memories of, well, Pier Nine.

Back then, in the postwar era, boxing still mattered. Even in the lower weight classes, American fighters held sway rather than the foreigners who dominate today. And great rivalries always have given the sport its special flavor: Robinson-LaMotta, Zale-Graziano, Dempsey-Tunney, Louis-Schmeling, Leonard-Duran, etc. Pep-Saddler was one of the best and certainly the most illegal.

Saddler died in 2001, but Pep survived the ravages of Alzheimer’s for five more years. Anybody who loved boxing was Willie’s friend and, perhaps ironically, he tried to keep this shadiest of sports on the up-and-up in his native Connecticut as an inspector for the state’s boxing commission.

District promoter Elroy Johnson, a loudly lovable jabberwocky, was uncharacteristically subdued when he called a few days ago to talk about Pep. “My man Willie died,” Johnson explained.

He first encountered Pep nearly 20 years ago when Elroy, then just 21, called the commission in search of a license to promote in Connecticut.

“I was talking to somebody who worked for the commission, and he didn’t seem to understand what I wanted,” Johnson recalled. “So I said, ’Let me talk to your boss.’ Then somebody came on the phone and said, ’This is Willie Pep.’

“I said, ’Willie Pep? I thought you died.’ I told him what I wanted, and he said, ’Kid, if you were willing to ride 81/2 hours on a train to see me, you’re my guy — I’m gonna teach you the business.’ So we talked all day — he was impressed that I knew a lot about boxing history — and he became sort of my partner. His advice on how to sign fighters, how to arrange fights and a lot of things was invaluable over the years. … I felt like I was in a movie or something because you don’t get to meet a really great fighter like that every day.”

Certainly there was no question that Gugliermo Papaleo, to use his square handle, was a great one. He became featherweight champion in 1942 at age 21, and nobody was better at slipping some punches and dancing away from others. Noted author W.C. Heinz once described Pep this way: “When I watched him box, it used to occur to me that if I could just listen carefully enough, I would hear the music. He turned boxing contests into ballets.”

Not, however, against Saddler. Pep said he never fought dirty unless his opponent fought dirty, and Sandy was more than willing. So Willie retaliated in kind.

“I stepped on his toes, and he said, ’Ouch!’ ” Pep said after the one time he beat Saddler, by decision. “So I figured if I stepped on his toes enough, I’d win the fight.”

That time he did, but without doing honor to himself and his great career. Too bad.

“Boxing has a lot of rotten people, but Willie was one of the good ones,” Johnson said sadly. “When you finished talking to Willie, he would never say goodbye. He wound up all his conversations by saying, ’Stab, jab and keep your [butt] off the floor.’ ”

Somewhere, we may assume, Willie Pep is still doing so.

R.I.P.