First published Thursday, April 24, 1997

WHENEVER old pugs gather to reminisce, one name is bound to break through the surface of boxing memories - that of Mick Gordon, the battling collier of Sutton who took on all-comers, from fairground-booth bruisers to pedigree champions.

And the old ring yarns are given added substance by an old newspaper clipping - presenting an impressively-detailed spread - forwarded by Mick's grandson and namesake, Mick Gordon of Mereland Way, Parr.

It gives an insight into the hardship and muscle-tearing effort put in by the old-time prize fighters. In stark contrast to boxing superstars of today with their strictly-limited ring appearances and multi-million-pound lifestyles.

Mick loved a good scrap, true enough! But he'd another, more pressing reason to take on a mind-blowing schedule of up to five fights a week while still holding down his job as a miner. He needed every copper he could get with, eventually, eight other mouths to feed.

Battling on into the veteran stage, Mick was overtaken by tragedy in 1921 when his wife died, leaving him with seven small children to bring up. His task was eased somewhat when he re-married - but by then Mick had fought his last fight.

And then, when just past his 45th birthday, the sporting fraternity was shocked to learn that the battling miner from Harrison Street, Sutton, had died in hospital from pneumonia. Only a week before his death he'd completed a week's hard slog down the mine. Prescot-born Mick, around whom so many local boxing legends have been weaved, began his fight career in a Sutton Heath backyard, training alongside a knowledgable old boxing character named Joe Heathcote.

Still a teenage pitlad, he took his chance in the local boxing booths before moving up to the major arenas. Still 18, he took on as many as five opponents in a week after working down the pit.

Often he was called in as a last-minute substitute for fighters who had cried off, stepping into the ring with pit grime still clinging to his body.

He quickly earned his nickname of the Fighting Collier - a tag which stuck to him throughout a long career of small purses and gallant failure against top champions. The pocket battleship from Sutton, normally around the featherweight mark, was prepared to take on all-comers of various weights. These included the redoubtable Seaman Heyes, who had just lost out to the legendary British featherweight champion 'Peerless' Jim Driscoll.

Many with whom Mick traded leather went on to become title holders, including Billie Marchant, Billy Benyon and Johnny Basham. In his biography, Basham described his clash with the hard-punching Mick as the hardest of his career.

Sad then, that a virus should finally sound the final bell for a game little battler before he could enjoy looking back, in his twilight days, on a glorious fighting past.