Talk given at 'Last Round' in Madison 6/6/09

Good evening.....

I know you are all asking yourselves: “Why on earth would a smart guy like Dick Murphy, pick a lightweight like Terry Tynan to speak on such an important occasion as the Last Round.?” Tynan, who never won a national title, and drove coaches crazy with his 'weight problems' Tynan, who maintained that roadwork was for suck-ups And Tynan, who, repeatedly won the “Chin Up-- Hands Down” award and never had a decent left hook.

I get It-- Here I am in the company of major players. like Dale Lang, the greatest marketing mind in the publishing world; Bob Ranck, a legal giant and former law partner of Alan Simpson, my favorite Republican. Bob Morgan, a published author and gifted orator. And finally, Jim Mack, an accomplished attorney and the Sage of Beaver Dam.

A simple answer: Dick, in his infinite wisdom, knows that, due to exceptional defensive skills, I was seldom hit and, therefore, I remember events of the past more clearly than most of my teammates.

Try to think of me as the Bob Uker of Wisconsin Boxing. I wasn't great, but I was there.

For instance, I remember when I first arrived in Madison in September 1951, a shy 18 year old kid from Chicago, full of ambition and confidence, sporting a pearl gray fedora with turned up brim. Murphy and Ranck, our conservative co-captains, looked at me with disdain, pretending they had never seen pegged pants or blue suede shoes before. There they were, fashionable in their white bucks and preppy sweaters, rolling their eyes and acting superior. I knew then, that life here was not going to be any 'walk in the park.' This could be a long 4 years. What's worse--Murphy was my landlord.

The friendliest guy I met was Charlie Magestro, a Golden Glover from Milwaukee. He lived above me on Frances St.
He wasn't my roommate, but, close enough. While trying to nap before one of our four tournament matches, he was up there, banging his guitar, stomping the floor to 'Chena lunza menza moti...' in his strongest baritone, I can hear it to this day.

One evening on State St. when confronted by a group of city kids We ended up between two buildings duking it out side by side. Thanks to the brick wall at our backs and Magestro's deadly right cross, we survived. Little did I know that I would be the unhappy recipient of that powerful punch-- he knocked me out a month later.

Charley became like a brother to me. Once , when I was lucky enough to have a date, he even loaned me his car—not to drive-- just to sit in.

Together we made the Chicago Tribune after receiving the honor of Co-Captains of the '55 team.

In our 2nd year when I informed him I was getting married, he almost cried.

I did, in fact, get married in February of 1953 to Joan Philbin whom I liked since 4th grade.
Many of you knew Joan. She lost a battle with lung cancer in 1993. At our wedding, fraternity brother, Bob Morgan was standing up for me-- except when he wasn't standing. A brief fainting spell from long hours of fasting Mildly embarrassed, he recovered and carried on in true Badger style like the champion he was and, in my book, always will be.

Through the years, Bob has been a confidant and constant source of encouragement. When he's your friend you get a bonus, his brother, Tom. Tom is finishing up a book on addiction that will save countless lives. Patti and I are ever grateful to Tom for helping us cope with her son's illness. Ryan has been healthy for over 3 years now and looking forward to being a father later this month. The Brothers Morgan are one of the most treasured of the many gifts I have received from the sport of boxing.

So many others, both living and passed, have had a profound effect on this wonderful experience. Dave & Dick Miyagawa, Gene Rankin, Warren Jollymore, all the fans and teammates including those before and after our years of service-- It's been great to know you,

My first coach, Bud Beyer, and others who nudged me along on the road to Madison : John McGovern, Father Crawford, Pop Howard, Joe Keating, Rudy Davis, Joey White, Tom Keneally and my most important mentor and fan, win, lose or draw, Bob Tynan. On many Friday evenings, before expressways were built, he would make the grueling round trip from Chicago and back in all kinds of weather. I love you, Dad. Thanks for being there for me I wish I had said that more often when you were here.

Bronco Telkes was a neighborhood idol and a perfect role model. He boxed for DePaul University and, in fact, lost a 'hometown decision' to Irish Dick Murphy in Madison in '51. Just kidding__ Bronc would be the first to say Murph won fair and square.


Vern Woodward was wonderful to me from day one. He pinned the name 'Terrible' on me and it stuck.
It was a great nick name because it gave the person using it a choice as to how it was being applied. You all recall his characteristic gentle, patient persistence. How I regret the things I said to him as he helped me lose ¾ of a pound before the Nationals at Penn State in '54.

By the way, we won the title that year. It didn't get much publicity, being in Pennsylvania, but one of the most exciting bouts in Badger Boxing History took place when our own Bobby Meath upset the highly favored Pete Potter of Virginia with a 3rd round knock out and went on to win the championship. I wish you could have seen it. One of Bob's last bouts and his greatest.

My last bout was in the1955 Nationals at Pocatello, ID. There, I won a very personal honor that I cherish. I was sure I had won the bout and so was John. When the decision went to my opponent, a very surprised local lad, my coach, our coach, John J. Walsh, the epidimy of decorum and fine manners , elaborately brought his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose for the whole place to see. I couldn't believe it then and you probably don't believe now-- but, it happened. What an honor! And, What a man!

I'll conclude with a little narrative rhyme I wrote in his honor in 1995 titled “The Coach”







I used to be a boxer
Tough fights—I've had a few
Amateur clubs in Chicago
Then up to Wisconsin U

There I met a distinguished dude
Said 'Attorney' on his door
I think it was a cover
Cause he proved a good deal more

For Boxing was his real 'know how'
'I'm the Coach' I heard him say
With humility, he whispered to me:
“Best in the NC double A”

Such self deprecation I truly admired
In a a man of his position
“If you fight for me, I can guarantee
You will be in top condition

I said OK but what's the pay?
A frown then crossed his brow
“Why young man that's not the plan
Hard cash we can't allow

For Glory is the main reward
For all your sacrificing
The skill to maim will bring you fame
And females most enticing

A more convincing gent I never met
So I signed on right away
He got me a job cooking corn on the cob
Then to Murph's for a place to stay

The next 4 years were loads of fun
I've got the scars to prove
He taught me to punch and do without lunch
Many pounds did we remove

He took us to towns from coast to coast
His honor to defend
He would say “Now look, as I said in my book
A left hook is a boy's best friend





I admit I was a wise guy
Had an excuse for every loss
But out of respect for his age I suspect
I'd pretend he was the boss

I know I tried his patience
Those times we would debate
Though the top of his head would grow a bit red
He could always articulate

Once for a rest I joined the Marines
Far enough from his voice it would seem
But on network TV, whom did I see?
Himself, coaching the Olympic Team

I know I grew to love him
Like a father? Probably not
More like a beloved teacher
Who truly cared a lot

So, Here's to you, Sweet Johnny Walsh
May the legend live forever
I'm here to advise I, now, know you were wise
Thanks for memories I do treasure


And you, my dear friends, will always be a part of those memories.

Thank you.