Sandy Saddler: The Lil’ Terminator
Photo Credit by Bettmann/Contributor via Getty Images
The single greatest featherweight ever is Willie Pep. It’s practically an impossible point to argue against. Arguably the greatest defensive fighter in the storied history of the sport - simply listing Pep’s accolades is probably an exercise in futility. His record stands for itself, as does his impeccable control of the ring with procedural, dancing steps to lead opponents into his selections and outmaneuver them all day long whilst barely sustaining even a scratch. Not a single movement was wasted - it was all in the smallest of moves having the maximal effect. Pep was a genius and an artist as much as any fighter you could ever find.
Joseph ‘Sandy’ Saddler, the probable second greatest featherweight at best, stood as the complete opposite of Pep in every way. Pep was all about controlling engagements; Saddler wanted to force rugged confrontation. Pep lacked the firepower to kill, so he made his selections as precise and purposeful as any; Saddler was arguably the most horrific puncher in the entire division’s history and didn’t care what he missed so long as he could continue his assault. Pep set traps and played the world’s greatest matador; Saddler looked to trap and charge like the world’s meanest of bulls. Pep fought like he was an artist trying to paint a masterpiece with careful, subtle efforts; Saddler fought like he wanted to maul his adversary with rugged aggression. Willie Pep was the greatest featherweight, but Sandy Saddler was the most terrifying.
He proved that by pursuing and cutting Pep down to a thorough stoppage in three of their four confrontations. Only one of the greatest performances in a boxing ring, that, unfortunately remains sought after footage, saw Pep managing to see the final bell by outworking, outboxing and outfighting Saddler and his face was still battered beyond recognition in the process.
According to Saddler’s record of nearly 162 bouts, he was stopped only once - in his second fight. In the footage we have of Saddler, it was rare to ever see him even discouraged or even rattled. With only an unyielding, killing goal in mind, Sandy Saddler was the quintessential hunter, walking his opponents down, drawing their fire and then battering them until they couldn’t stand. Of Saddler’s 144 victims, only 36 of them saw the final bell and those that did appeared to be nothing less than broken and beaten.
To find a fighter to create parallel comparatives for Saddler is easy enough: George Foreman was not just a protege of Saddler (Sandy’s cousin Dick Sadler was Foreman’s principle trainer) he was a heavyweight variant of the featherweight great. Although Foreman relied more upon his raw power to intercept opponent entries, he was willing to pressure like Saddler and lead them into killshots. What did separate Saddler from Foreman appeared to be how both weaponized attrition. Foreman’s was about that singular, moving force colliding with the opponent and making them collapse until its vaunted weight. Saddler, though, pursued and ripped his enemies up to the ribs before mauling them up close. Foreman could be called a big man’s Saddler and Saddler a small man’s Foreman, but Big George was about the big moments whereas Saddler’s preoccupation minded itself towards breaking bodies.
Differences aside, the bread-and-butter of how both pressured were comparable. Primarily, Saddler would look to cut his opponents off and put them into the corner or into the clinch. Like his arch-rival Willie Pep, Saddler’s steps were more measured than they were fleeting. With Saddler, the intention was to corner and then expend energy battering the opponent unconscious.
To keep the pursuit up, Saddler employed a varied combination of a cross arm guard and a long guard. Long guards are an employment of using outstretched arms to take strikes on the forearms or shoulders and to close the distance into the clinch. They benefit fighters who want to be aggressive and impose their strength. Taller, longer pugilists utilize the long guard because it also forces their opponents to close the distance into a closer range; the elbows and forearms will catch shots. However, long guards are more demanding to pull off in boxing than in other combat sports, such as Muay Thai, because long guard practitioners typically will have to use kicks and knees to close the gap or to maintain range. In boxing, that luxury is no longer available and foot movement has a higher priority. To make ends meet, Saddler would fix in a cross-arm guard too.
Cross-arm guards have the fighter hold their rear hand high and slightly outstretch their lead hand. Ideally, the right hand acts as both a feeler - to parry shots upstairs - and feeder - to constantly threaten with the right hand. The lead hand, at its extension, is capable of hand-fighting and jabbing to keep control of range. Ideally, a cross-arm guard is about maintaining constant contact while catching-and-pitching back. These two guards, in combination, could make it difficult for opponents to get through even if they manipulated it because Saddler would fold the rear arm across his chest or quickly reposition.
Note how Saddler’s arm length allows him to probe, touch and frame and set up other offenses.
Saddler’s goal to get a hold of his opponent and his arm length then acted as ancillary threats with a caveat. Because Saddler is constantly on the offensive, he has to touch and engage constantly. As a result, his ringcutting and shot selection has to be on point to keep those engagements on his terms.
Many of Saddler’s jabs work as throwaways or potshots to force an opponent to circle to his right, where he threatens a right overhand. In reality, Saddler’s money punch is his left hook or shovel uppercut - the success to which it lands is crafted through the jab and the overhand’s threat. When Saddler throws, it is a rapid transfer of weight to enforce his god-given power and drive the opponent back even more. If they anticipate hook, Saddler will break rhythm and commit to straight rights, body and head to keep them guessing and back towards the lead hand. If not, they just keep moving backwards.
If anything else, Saddler’s offensive ringcraft would not be as punishing if not for his commitment to the body. He will alternate his jabs, hooks and uppercuts to the midsections, slowly debilitating them as he pushes his opponents backwards. To cut off their escapes or to sustain his pressure, he’ll use right hooks or straights to the body with maximum force. By changing his mixups and constantly feinting, Saddler can keep his man guessing about which way to move while slowly and methodically breaking their will to flee and try to stand their ground.
Unfortunately, a closer range is exactly what Saddler would look for. As soon as he was within reach of them, Saddler would look for underhooks or overhooks to convert to a single collar tie or wrist control. Once he had control of an arm (usually with wrist-control) and pushed the head down to break their posture, he would begin firing uppercuts without even a modicum of restraint.
If he couldn’t convert to a collar tie, Saddler was content to use overhooks or underhooks to make chest-to-chest contact and deliver consistent shots relative to his head position until he could create the space for those collar ties.
On the ropes, the possible damage would only accumulate dramatically. There, Saddler would also grab wrists or employ frames to continue the mauling. If they got away, Saddler would continue to use throwaway or successful offense to convert to collar ties or handtrap the wrist.
In a word, Saddler’s tactics were not the kind of allowances that would be allowed in the modern boxing scene. Even back then, Saddler gained notoriety by being too rough and willing to bend the rules. Combined with an iron will and ungodly durability, Sandy Saddler was going to get to an opponent at some point. It was how they dealt with the terminator that often determined how intelligent and gritty they were. Willie Pep, as great a ring general as you could ever find, constantly struggled to find routes away from Saddler’s unrelenting hounding.
When the components of Saddler’s game came together, he didn’t just beat his opponents down. He mauled them with the rarest of fury.
That said, Saddler had evident limitations with his game. The most obvious is that his best defense was often his best offense.
Because Saddler wanted to close range and hold, he was liable to be caught quite a bit upon entry if he couldn’t slip nor smother. A clever outfighter, for instance, could trick Saddler into standing square and counter him on the spot or force longer exchanges, whereupon Saddler usually struggled. Likewise, Saddler could overcommit and be turned. His durability and conditioning allowed him to hide how much effort and time he had to devote to an attritional, incredibly physical style and is indicative that it wouldn’t quite have worked for others without the New Yorker’s physicality or propensity to bend the rules. In short, Saddler had to resign to taking shots in order to enforce his game; were he not Sandy Saddler specifically, that strategy may well not have worked.
(You may have noticed quite a bit of Willie Pep clips in here. I want to take this time to shill out for how incredibly great their fourth fight is. A high level of ringcraft and both men fouling each other. It ought to make you incredibly disappointed their second bout isn’t available.)
Perhaps the greatest weakness, however, was that Saddler was demonstrably more effective if he was the one pressing. Saddler’s guard made it tricky to hit him upstairs at range because of his proactive catching and pitching, but a determined combination puncher could cross counter over his forearms (e.g. Ali-Foreman) or target Saddler’s endlessly-exposed midsection and then go upstairs.
Against a willing infighter, especially one who positioned his head under his own, Saddler became far less efficient and imposing in close. Because he doesn’t have the space to uppercut or hold, a shorter man could smother the lankier Saddler and force him to work. Saddler did employ counter uppercuts to punish entries versus said fighters, but the point still stood: If he couldn’t put them on the backfoot and they could him, he found himself in a gritty attritional battle whereupon he no longer held control of how the engagements happened. Ergo, in the opinion of this writer, someone with the infighting prowess of a Henry Armstrong, barring being hurt on entry, may have made Saddler’s life a living hell.
Nonetheless, Sandy Saddler stands as one of the most prolific, accomplished fighters in ring history. His three victories over Willie Pep, among anything else, inform that he wasn’t just an offensive tank. Sandy Saddler was an intelligent terminator and looked to take advantage of everything he could to win and hurt the men standing in front of him until they were a ruined, unconscious figure on the canvas. Boxing’s featherweight division has had its share of power punchers and knockout artists - the fact that Saddler is considered its most accomplished says something.
Thanks for reading.