Whatever may have been written in newspapers over the years – and most of it seems better suited to a gaudy, lurid paperback novel – Benny Lynch was one of boxing’s true geniuses. He was a fighting phenomenon. The sweating, heart-breaking business of preparing for a fight was not for him. He never did discipline himself to hard work, for he found that it came naturally to step into a ring and quickly dispatch his opponents.
Lynch’s short life is generally regarded as a twentieth-century tragedy, however this book dwells but briefly on the seamier side of wee Benny’s day-to-day existence. It is Lynch the boxer, the perfect ring gentleman and genius that the author prefers to remember.