He typically found a place in a dark corner, at the back

of the auditorium, or in the last row of seats, where he

could observe and gather information for the articles

he would pen that week or sometime in the immediate

or even extended future.

“Hey, George Blair was here tonight. Did you see him?’’

someone would ask. The answer for most people was

usually a resounding no, unless they had a seat in the

recesses of the auditorium or were able to gain access

to a dressing room afterward.

Quiet and unassuming, unless volunteering an opinion

on a fighter or a bout , Blair was a voice for boxers who

otherwise would have been given little recognition,

situated as they were on the tundra of the Upper

Midwest, in cities throughout Minnesota and

neighboring states, far from the spotlight of New York,

Philadelphia or Los Angeles.

He wrote for boxing magazines across the nation,

introducing fighters from Minneapolis, St. Paul and

surrounding cities and towns to a nation in which they

were otherwise unrecognized.

He submitted the results of local matches, usually

published in the agate type of a publication, in addition

to full-length articles to Boxing Illustrated, Ring Magazine

and a Japanese publication that actually paid better than its American counterparts. He is still writing for Boxing World, and he continues to make a significant contribution as the state’s preeminent historian, digging into the archives for information on the early fight game in Minnesota and then compiling it in story form for current and future generations.

He shared his contacts with select members of them local media, setting up an interview with Muhammad Ali in one instance.

Some people knew Blair by name but had never met

him, camouflaged as he was in the background of the

sport. Many avid fight fans knew his work but not him,

had no idea what the man looked like or from what

corner he sometimes emerged to gather information

before quietly receding again into the recesses of the

sport, in a corner of a celebratory gathering for the

victor or perhaps the subdued, quieter surroundings

of the losing fighter.

He will join two fighters, for whom he had high

respect, in this year’s class of inductees, Jim Hegerle and

My Sullivan. “My dad talked about Sullivan a lot, ’’ Blair

recalled. “He and Billy Light. My Sullivan was a good

fighter in his day...some of those guys were even ranked

at the time. There were only eight divisions and one

rating service at the time. If you got in, you were good.’’

Blair watched a film of the fight between Hegerle

and soon-to-be world middleweight champion Gene

Fullmer, a fight some people, perhaps a bit biased,

believe Hegerle won. Yet, it was a close fight, a

competitive fight in which the winner was impressed

with the man he had just defeated. “Jim Hegerle was

a good fighter, tough. He wasn’t a master boxer, but he

could box,’’ Blair said. “For eight rounds that fight with

Fullmer was an even fight, one he could have won,

but he got tired.’’

Blair said that afterward Fullmer and his manager

both told Hegerle that he deserved to be rated among

the 10 best fighters in the middleweight division.

The best local fights Blair witnessed matched Howard

Belisle and Buzz Brown. “They fought twice,’’ he

recalled, “and they went toe to toe for 10 rounds. Belisle

brought boxing back to St. Paul after World War II.’’

The best local fighter in Blair’s estimation?

“Del Flanagan, no question about it,’’ he said. “He and

his brother Glenn, who was more of a brawler type...

although I have to say that I have a film of the fight

between Glenn and Charley Riley in New York and he

out-boxed Riley in that one.’’

The best fighters of Blair’s generation and thereafter are

also those in the estimation of other boxing historians:

Ray Robinson, Joe Louis, Muhammad Ali.

Blair extended his love of the boxing to other aspects of

the sport, beyond merely writing, as he continues doing

to this day.

Hall of Fame promoter Jack Raleigh frequently called

upon Blair to assist in matchmaking for the cards he

promoted in St. Paul. “Nobody ever knew it,’’ Blair said,

“ but I did all of Jack’s matchmaking and the credit was

given to Murray McLean.

The fight game has changed in numerous ways since

those bygone days, diminished in some respects by new

forms of combat on television and the pay-per-view

circuits. Boxing defensive skills have disappeared for the

most part, partly due to the emphasis on slugging it

out, passed on by a new generation of coaches to meet

the television demand for constant contact and action.

Consequently, Blair has less respect for today’s fighters

than for those he saw during earlier decades, in the

1950s, 1960s and 1970s.

Most of today’s fighters would be in preliminary bouts

on the cards of previous generations, Blair insists. The

reasons are clear he says for some of the very reasons

just cited.

Today’s trainers, except perhaps for an anomaly here

or there, do not have the knowledge that prevailed in

the past. They are unable to teach today’s fighters the

skills possessed by boxers who excelled in previous

generations. . “They don’t have the knowledge or

ability to teach,’’ he insists.

In addition, young fighters are rushed today into

headline bouts, even title fights, years before boxers of

the past, who honed their offensive and defensive skills,

gaining valuable experience before they were matched

against higher level competition. As an example, Sugar

Ray Robinson had 75 bouts before he fought for the

world welterweight title. Blair himself came up the old

way, slowly working his way into various aspects of the

sport and now joins those who learned, as he did, in the

Minnesota Boxing Hall of Fame.