The Gods of War

"The Gods of War is filled with beautifully-written essays about a sport that is considered anything but beautiful." --Jeremy Hobson, NPR. Award-winning essayist and boxing historian Springs Toledo tells the world that "the greatest of all time" is neither Muhammad Ali nor Sugar Ray Robinson. The greatest - the 'god of war' - is someone beyond their reach, a true anomaly of the ring. The evidence is compelling. See it and decide for yourself. This countdown of the top-ten fighters of the modern era is a literary experience like no other, and it isn't all readers will find in this book. Toledo's writing has been described as "warrior poetry"; he goes beyond the usual factoids, dry text, and threadbare yarns to conjure up legendary fighters as they were. Some of them will punch holes through the pages; others will touch your heart. Reading enthusiasts, sports fans, and boxing's critics are invited to take a new look at the sweet science. It's worth the price of admission.

Sports & Outdoors

Toledo, Springs

Individual Sports

Tora Book Publishing

In his latest collection of award-winning boxing essays, Springs Toledo takes a hard look at the hardest game from a seat next to yours. Where the widely-acclaimed The Gods of War (Tora, 2014) zoomed in at the greatness of the golden era, In the Cheap Seats zooms out for a panoramic view of the wild world of boxing: the true champions and contenders, the stumblebums trying to make a buck inside of six rounds, the fans who swear by it and sometimes swear at it, and the rich assortment of characters large and small that inevitably gather around the ring. Whether you're a purist or a critic, a casual fan or a toe dipper, Toledo proves to be the perfect companion at the fights.

In the Cheap Seats

Murderers' Row: in search of boxing's greatest outcasts

There used to be a particularly dangerous and crime-ridden alley located in what is now the SoHo district of New York City; it ran between ramshackle tenements in a black neighborhood known as Darktown in the early 19th century. "Murderers' Row" was no place for the decent or the delicate. By the 1870s, the term was used in direct reference to the second tier of the Tombs prison, which loomed a half mile from the alley. In 1918, New York was cheering six sluggers in the Yankees batting order who were bringing fans to their feet; "murderers' row" they called them.  Boxing is to baseball what a film noir is to a musical. It's the bad neighborhood of sports. It's no place for the decent or the delicate. It too has a murderers' row: eight elite and notorious fighters from the 1940s who evoke the shadowy origins of the name. One of them was mobbed-up to his eyebrows, another was an unsolved mystery until Springs Toledo exhumed and escorted him into the International Boxing Hall of Fame. The oldest, an ex-con, ended his prime in a San Francisco jail after shooting a rival in an all-night restaurant; that rival stood five feet five and fought light heavyweights--while drunk. Two of them were killers. They were the best of boxing's underclass, barred from title shots because of the danger surrounding them and the color of their skin. No less than Sugar Ray Robinson and Henry Armstrong steered clear of them. Their remarkable stories before, during, and after their bloody ring careers are quintessential Americana--after hours.

History

Americas

"Springs Toledo is the best boxing writer working today, and perhaps the best sportswriter, period. His work combines the rarest of attributes: a literary and poetic grasp of the English language, and a detailed and rigorous understanding of history." --Dr. David Crawford Jones, Ohio State University In January 1919, a Pittsburgh prizefighter married an ex-chorus girl and with her at his side, proclaimed himself ready to thrash "the whole world." It was no idle threat. Harry Greb embarked on an unparalleled 45-0-0 campaign that year, often fighting once, twice, and sometimes three times a week. His motto? "All-comers." His objective? To prove himself the superior of every rival within reach--including Jack Dempsey. By December 1919, Greb was pressing his shoulder up against the limits of human endurance, and moving it. Smokestack Lightning brings you back to an America in the aftermath of war, at the dawn of the Jazz Age and the brink of Prohibition. It is a unique and heavily-researched encounter with the greatest fury fighter of the 20th century. Meet him mid-stride.

Smokestack Lightning: Harry Greb, 1919

Independently published

How did violence become OK? And is there any way back? At some point between George Floyd's killing on May 25 and the invasion of the US Capitol on January 6, America's consensus against political violence crumbled. Before 2020, almost everyone agreed that it should be out of bounds. Now, many are ready to justify such violence - at least when it is their side breaking windows or battling police officers. Something significant seems to have slipped. Is there any way back? As Christians, we need to consider what guilt we bear, with the rise of a decidedly unchristian "Christian nationalism" that historically has deep roots in American Christian culture. But shouldn't we also be asking ourselves what a truly Christian stance might look like, one that reflects Jesus' blessings on the peacemakers, the merciful, and the meek? Oscar Romero, when accused of preaching revolutionary violence, responded: "We have never preached violence, except the violence of love, which left Christ nailed to a cross." If we take Jesus' example and his call to nonviolence at face value, we're left with all kinds of interesting questions: What about policing? What about the military? What about participating in government? This issue of Plough addresses some of these questions and explores what a life lived according to love rather than violence might look like. In this issue: - Anthony M. Barr revisits James Baldwin's advice about undoing racism. - Gracy Olmstead describes welcoming the baby she did not expect during a pandemic. - Patrick Tomassi debates nonviolence with Portland's anarchists and Proud Boys. - Scott Beauchamp advises on what not to ask war veterans. - Rachel Pieh Jones reveals what Muslims have taught her about prayer. - Eberhard Arnold argues that Christian nonviolence is more than pacifism. - Stanley Hauerwas presents a vision of church you've never seen in practice. - Andrea Grosso Ciponte graphically portrays the White Rose student resistance to Nazism. - Zito Madu illuminates rap's role in escaping the violence of poverty. - Springs Toledo recounts his boxing match with an undefeated professional. You'll also find: - An interview with poet Rhina P. Espaillat - New poems by Catherine Tufariello - Profiles of Anabaptist leader Felix Manz and community founder Lore Weber - Reviews of Marly Youmans's Charis in the World of Wonders, Judith D. Schwartz's The Reindeer Chronicles, Chris Lombardi's I Ain't Marching Anymore, and Martín Espada's Floaters Plough Quarterly features stories, ideas, and culture for people eager to put their faith into action. Each issue brings you in-depth articles, interviews, poetry, book reviews, and art to help you put Jesus' message into practice and find common cause with others.

Plough Quarterly No. 27 – The Violence of Love

Self-Help

Arnold, Eberhard

Jones, Rachel Pieh

Tufariello, Catherine

Hauerwas,Stanley

Beauchamp, Scott

Ciponte, Andrea Grosso

Madu, Zito

Olmstead, Gracy

Barr, Anthony M.

Tomassi, Patrick

Relationships

Plough Publishing House

Plough Quarterly No. 34 – Generations

Parenting & Relationships

Lispector, Clarice

Katongole, Emmanuel

Anderson, Matthew Lee

Perry, Louise

Poochigian, Aaron

Telushkin, Shira

Laverty, Rhys

Roberts, Alastair

Esquivias, Óscar

Pelliccia, Monica

Sweeney, Terence

Adoption

"The Gods of War, a collection of essays about the sweet science, is filled with not just great sports writing, but damn fine writing, period." —Writers' Bone "Beautifully written essays about a sport that is anything but beautiful." —NPR “These are exciting stories, excitingly told.” —New England Review Award-winning essayist and boxing historian Springs Toledo tells the world that "the greatest of all time" is neither Muhammad Ali nor Sugar Ray Robinson. The greatest - the 'god of war' - is someone beyond their reach, a true anomaly of the ring. The evidence is compelling. See it and decide for yourself. This countdown of the top-ten fighters of the modern era is a literary experience like no other, and it isn't all readers will find in this book. Toledo's writing has been described as "warrior poetry"; he goes beyond the usual factoids, dry text, and threadbare yarns to conjure up legendary fighters as they were. Some of them will punch holes through the pages; others will touch your heart. Reading enthusiasts, sports fans, and boxing's critics are invited to take a new look at the sweet science. It's worth the price of admission.

NEW EDITION WITH 25 PHOTOGRAPHS 
"I see at least two movies in Murderers' Row, maybe four, each one a Tom Joad journey through the Heart of Darkness."-Charlie Newton\nThere used to be a particularly dangerous and crime-ridden alley located in what is now the SoHo district of New York City; it ran between ramshackle tenements in a black neighborhood known as Darktown in the early 19th century. “Murderers’ Row” was no place for the decent or the delicate. By the 1870s, the term was used in direct reference to the second tier of the Tombs prison, which loomed a half mile from the alley. In 1918, New York was cheering six sluggers in the Yankees batting order who were bringing fans to their feet; “murderers’ row” they called them.\nBoxing is to baseball what a film noir is to a musical. It’s the bad neighborhood of sports. It’s no place for the decent or the delicate. It too has a murderers’ row: eight elite and notorious fighters from the 1940s who evoke the shadowy origins of the name. One of them was mobbed-up to his eyebrows, another was an unsolved mystery until Springs Toledo exhumed and escorted him into the International Boxing Hall of Fame. The oldest, an ex-con, ended his prime in a San Francisco jail after shooting a rival in an all-night restaurant; that rival stood five feet five and fought light heavyweights—while drunk. Two of them were killers.\nThey were the best of boxing’s underclass, barred from title shots because of the danger surrounding them and the color of their skin. No less than Sugar Ray Robinson and Henry Armstrong steered clear of them. Their remarkable stories before, during, and after their bloody ring careers are quintessential Americana—after hours.

Politics & Social Sciences

Social Sciences

See the best price to sell, buy, or rent books by Toledo, Springs. BookScouter helps to compare book prices from 25+ online bookstores and 30+ buyback vendors with a single search.

Books by Toledo, Springs