From the start, sad-eyed Bill Rosensohn had seemed woefully outmatched by the knee-and-gouge plug-uglies, opportunists and gamblers who feast on big-time boxing. Struggling to promote June's heavyweight championship bout between Floyd Patterson and Challenger Ingemar Johansson, Rosensohn was cast as a beleaguered crusader, a gallant in a button-down shirt who did not smoke and did not chew, and did not play with boys who do.
When the rakish Swede unexpectedly knocked out Patterson in the third round, Bill Rosensohn appeared to chronically ingenuous sportswriters as the white knight that boxing had been looking...
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