Robinson spent the last of Louis’ best years as the uncrowned welterweight champion. By the time Robinson won a world title, Louis, still the heavyweight champion, had returned from fighting dozens of exhibitions during World War II and he visibly slowed down.

Louis embarked on a foolhardy yet financially necessary comeback after retiring in 1949, and the next year Robinson became an international star by going 5-0 (4 KO) during his one-month European tour and causing a stir everywhere he and his entourage went. His next bout was the famous “St. Valentine’s Day Massacre,” where he battered Jake LaMotta for the middleweight title.

Two non-title bouts led to another European tour for Robinson in 1951, and this time he brought along a much larger team and his iconic pink Cadillac. He popped champagne corks well into the early morning hours and his first several opponents were a step below the others he fought during his last visit. In fact, Robinson initially earned a disqualification loss against Germany’s Gerhard Hecht for kidney punches, likely a product of his copious social time. The German commission overturned the result and ruled the bout a No Contest, bowing to Robinson’s star power and championship influence, but the damage was done.

Robinson wasn’t undefeated, but he hadn’t lost in eight years. A win over former European middleweight champion Cyrille Delannoit brought Robinson to 129-1-2, and even a nullified disqualification stung. It also exposed a hole in Robinson’s game, which was using spinning and rabbit punching to combat his tendency to struggle on the inside against a strong opponent. Many U.S. referees overlooked it, and the Hecht fight suggested the European referees may not.

British and European middleweight champion Randolph Turpin’s record was a far more modest 40-2-1. He was managed for a time by a local shop owner and, apart from a couple of tattoos on his forearm, Turpin was quiet and understated. For British boxing fans who may have felt Robinson was too flashy, too pretty, too celebrated, Turpin was the ideal foil.

The gulf in talent and actual boxing skill wasn’t what heavy pro-Robinson odds suggested. Turpin was an accomplished amateur and he avenged both of his professional losses. He was a fighter with potential who came from a boxing family. It’s just that Robinson had money behind him. Robinson had the power to negotiate on his own behalf and make demands other fighters couldn’t fantasize about. In the real world, that counts.

Robinson’s manager George Gainford hooked up with London promoter Jack Solomons and arranged a deal that would see Robinson take home an overall purse and gate percentage similar to that of LaMotta, the previous champion. Robinson was to take home a huge majority of the gate, and in the meanwhile he met with France’s president Vincent Auriole, played golf and continued the party.

Back in the U.S., a smattering of boxing people suspected the 30-year-old Robinson may have aged too much. Among them was former junior welterweight champion Mushy Callahan, long retired and by this point a famous stunt and fight coordinator in Hollywood, who said: “Sugar Ray Robinson is getting old, but he’s apparently still the best in the business.”

While Robinson trained just outside of Windsor Castle as his team fielded visitors and curious onlookers, Turpin trained in the solitude of Gwyrch Castle in Wales. An envoy of about 500 fans voyaged to his training camp, which made the Leamington Spa fighter choke up and tell one reporter: “This is the first time a crowd has bothered to meet me before a fight, but it does me good. I have never felt better."

Somehow Turpin wasn’t affected by the throng of onlookers clogging London streets around Piccadilly Circus for the weigh-in. Robinson and his entourage attempted to drive through the crowd in his Cadillac and arrived a half-hour late amid (almost certainly hyperbolic) reports that the crowd might have been larger than the sea of humans celebrating V-Day, the day Allied powers celebrated victory over Axis powers six years earlier. Instead Turpin easily made weight, dismissing concerns that the younger fighter might prematurely outgrow the division.

Authorities then arranged a special meeting to confirm the rules about fighting inside and kidney punching, specifically for Robinson. It was likely a precaution to avoid an embarrassing end to a main event that could crown the first English world middleweight champion since Bob Fitzsimmons in the 1890s, but Robinson never got much of a chance to commit in-ring sins against Turpin at Earls Court Arena that evening.

A fighter ruled by rhythm and timing, Robinson often found himself losing rounds early in fights against stubborn opponents as he tried to figure out the correct approach. Turpin didn’t merely trouble Robinson, though. He suffocated the American star, and by Round 3 Robinson’s sweet and styled hairdo was in disarray.

When Robinson pulled away from clinches to dance and move, Turpin leaped at him with punches that landed and caught Robinson completely off-guard. On the inside, Turpin mauled and kept his gloves in constant motion, which even meant landing regular rabbit punches. In Round 5, a series of left hooks rocked Robinson to his core, and he was cut over the eye by a headbutt in Round 7. He looked to referee Eugene Henderson for help, and none would arrive.

Turpin had fought several eight-round fights, but nobody knew what would happen once the fight reached the rounds beyond that, where Robinson was expected to catch up. Indeed the pace slowed enough for Robinson to find moments in the last five or six rounds, but he also absorbed another left hook that hurt him in Round 11.

Robinson’s hand speed and snappier technique shone through in 12 and 13 before the fight slowed to a crawl in the last two rounds.

Just seconds after the final bell, Turpin’s glove was thrust toward the ceiling, certifying him the new middleweight champion and British boxing’s new hero.

Whereas Robinson’s first pro loss was and still is dismissed as a young fighter losing to a much larger rival, Turpin’s triumph couldn’t be negated the same way. Robinson was firmly a middleweight and he had every advantage but home court. The sellout crowd of 18,000 that night was correct to shower their man with praise.

Unfortunately for Turpin, the burden of fame and the weight of expectations crushed him, as did Robinson in their rematch two months later. Robinson, perhaps the all-time pound-for-pound king, and for good reason, proved elite in most rematches throughout his career and remained near the top of the middleweight heap for almost another decade. But it was Turpin who reminded the world that Robinson was just a man.