Only twice in boxing history was an amateur champ given a shot at a title in his first professional engagement. That was in 1892 when Jack Skelly, of Brooklyn, head of the amateur featherweight class, took on George Dixon, acknowledged the world’s king of professional feathers; and when Peter Rademacher, U.S. Olympic champion, in his first pro bout, tackled Floyd Patterson in a battle for the heavyweight crown. In each case the amateur was knocked out. The handicap was far too much for Skelly, good clever kid though he was, and Dixon kayoed him in the eighth round. Rademacher was stopped in the sixth. However, it will always remain a pleasing possibility that Warren Barbour might have fared better than Jack Skelly or Peter in an invasion of the pro ring, for he possessed every asset of an excellent professional. When he won the amateur heavyweight title in Boston on April 12, 1910, by a clean knockout, Barbour was a trim athlete, over six feet and one-half inches tall; he scaled 204 pounds in fighting togs and could jab, block, counter, and duck blows far better than most of our top professionals today. He was far superior to Rademacher as an all-round pugilist. Such men as referee Charley White and Jim Corbett, former world heavyweight champion, believed him good enough to fight Johnson, and were not alone among experts in thinking so. In my book, he was the greatest amateur boxer I had ever seen, even better than Floyd Patterson or Billy Rodenbach of New York, whose rating was extremely high in A.A.U. boxing circles. While Barbour was training in Jack Cooper’s New York gymnasium, he asked to have some big men about his own heft brought along to spar with him. Cooper complied by sending for his friend Jim Corbett. I was sitting with Cooper watching some workouts, when Barbour made the request. Corbett was admiring Warren’s style when our talk was interrupted by Cooper. Jim stripped for a turn with the gloves and was happy to get such a sparmate. But having heard that the aspiring youngster was somewhat of a walloper, Corbett was cautious at the start. Then he let himself out, and after a couple of rounds Corbett said frankly that Barbour was a wonderful heavyweight prospect both as a puncher and a scientist. “Your future as a professional is bright if you’ll go for it,” Corbett told Barbour. Then turning to me, Jim added, “I’d like to manage him.” Young Barbour’s reputation spread far beyond the walls of Cooper’s gym, where he continued to take daily workouts with pros and amateurs. A few weeks after the Corbett session, another former world’s heavyweight champion, Jim Jeffries, who was at the time training in the gym, tried him out there. Cooper, who often sparred with President Theodore Roosevelt in Washington, knew Barbour’s father well. He broached the subject of professionalism to him several times, but Warren’s dad wouldn’t think of such a move. He was purely an amateur at heart, a big financial supporter of amateur athletics.