Baer rolled over onto his hands and knees. He had trouble locating Louis, then he turned to face him and got to his feet at nine. Louis knocked him down again. Buddy struggled up, turning uncertainly to meet Louis' rush. Alternately he punched back at his tormentor and clung to him, but nothing slowed Louis' attack. Louis threw a right upper-cut and Baer went down on his back, his hair flying as his head struck the canvas. He was still trying to stand up when the referee counted 10. The time was 2:56 of the first round.
A few minutes later Louis sat hunched on a rubbing table in his dressing room, eating an apple and telling the reporters in a soft voice that he would donate his next purse to the Army Relief Society. Baer, sucking an orange through puffed lips in his dressing room, said that Louis' next opponent "better go in there armed with a baseball bat." The fans, streaming out of the Garden onto Eighth Avenue, compared this with Louis' other great fights. And more than one cynical old fight manager mused on 40% of $189,701, and wondered what their world was coming to.
