Sporting Bygones: Listeners were left breathless by deeds of Cockell and Turpin

Men like Bruce Woodcock, Freddie Mills and Dai Dower on the domestic front, Rocky Marciano, Willie Pep and Sugar Ray Robinson across the water were as well known to us as today's footballers and cricketers are to their generation. Every town worth its salt had a boxing venue; a boxing correspondent enjoyed as much space and more travel than any football writer; big fight nights were family gatherings.

With Raymond Glendenning commentating – Eamonn Andrews would come later – and the unflappable W Barrington Dalby doing his inter-round summaries the drama was all-encompassing and no matter how we tried we could not get the kettle to boil for a pot of tea in the 60 seconds it took for the blood to be wiped away and Dalby to give us the score.

But of all the British fighters around in the early Fifties perhaps the two who grabbed most of the attention were Don Cockell, a heavyweight from London who would unsuccessfully challenge Marciano, and Randolph Turpin, the lasher from Leamington who would achieve the impossible and beat the great Sugar Ray before – with an inevitability which was obvious even to a primary schoolboy – losing his world middleweight crown when the pair were re-matched.

Cockell and Turpin were proof that Britain could find fighters who were willing to take on the mighty Americans; that they did not always win – neither here nor there – hardly seemed to matter.

The build-up filling acres of newsprint (we didn't have hectares then); the fight itself, breathless on the wireless; then the film at the cinema followed by stories of riches beyond the dreams of young men from Balham, Leamington and Yorkshire.

That it was a chronicle of pain, suffering and untimely, early deaths for our two heroes was not part of the plot in those days when title fights were over

15 rounds, not today's health-and-safety driven 12.

Turpin turned professional in 1946 and quickly put together a record of 16 successive wins before being held to a draw by Mark Hart. His progress continued with only fleeting setbacks and he earned the British middleweight title with a revenge victory over Albert Finch in 1950.

The European title was impressively acquired and with his aggressive style and outgoing personality Turpin was seen as the brightest star in British boxing. That status was put to the test when the flamboyant Sugar Ray Robinson arrived in London for a 15-round fight on July 10, 1951 and – to the nation's delight – Turpin emerged as world champion.

The glory was not to last, Turpin's first defence at the Polo Grounds in New York, two months after the night of his life, being stopped with eight seconds of the 10th round remaining.

That was the start of Turpin's decline although his career enjoyed a brief renaissance when he beat Cockell to win the British and Commonwealth light-heavyweight title then he had the chance to regain the world middleweight title but lost over 15 rounds to Carl "Bobo" Olson in New York.

He fought on desperately as the debts mounted until retirement came after a second-round knockout at the hands of Yolande Pompey in 1959. He went into the pantomime of wrestling but he was on a downward spiral which ended when he took his own life in May 1966 at the age of 37.

Cockell was the Balham boy who never knew his father and grew up the son of Kate Cockell, a domestic servant from Battersea. He was a blacksmith by trade and threw his first punches in the booths which were part of every fairground before boxing as an amateur then turning professional in 1946.

Four years later he was crowned British light-heavyweight champion and in March 1951 he beat the Frenchman Albert Yvel to claim the European title. Further success came against former British middleweight champion Albert Finch before Cockell's progress was briefly halted when he was stopped by American Jimmy Slade after being on the canvas five times in the first five rounds.

Then came the fight of his life thus far, against Turpin who had moved up to light-heavyweight after being beaten in their second fight by Robinson. Cockell went down three times before the fight was stopped in Turpin's favour in the 11th round and conceded that making the weight had been hard; the decision was made to campaign at heavyweight.

The switch of divisions brought immediate success with two quick wins then a victory over the great Tommy Farr – idol of pre-war Britain and revered as the man who had taken Joe Louis the distance in 1937 – earned him a fight for the British and Commonwealth titles.

Johnny Williams, the holder, was beaten on points and Cockell followed up with wins over Roland La Starza and Harry Matthews (twice) which propelled him into a meeting with Marciano in San Francisco on May 16, 1955. It was a dreadful anti-climax.

We read of Marciano punching low, using his elbows and hitting late but Cockell had no complaints when the fight was stopped in the ninth round. There were tears in the playground at our hero's demise and we complained, as only boys can, at the unfairness of it all.

Two more defeats followed for Cockell and he retired in May 1956 with a record of 88 fights, 66 victories, 38 of them knockouts, 14 defeats and one draw.

He later worked as a publican, farmer and maintenance man before dying of cancer in Tooting on July 18, 1983.