Irish Danny Morgan strode into the Liffey Irish Pub for lunch wearing a smile wide enough to cover County Mayo itself, his ball cap emblazoned in front with a shamrock and his handshake as firm and sincere as you’d get from a long-lost relative in the Old Sod itself.
He was in fine form if for no other reason than he would attend a U-2 concert that night, drawing to mind a previous occasion when certain members of the Irish band paid a visit to the dressing room to extend their greetings before his fight against Steve Collins in Dublin.
Morgan had with him at the Liffey a folder of drawings to share with a luncheon companion. In his spare moments Morgan might grab a pen or pencil with one of those NFL tackle-size hands of his and begin sketching almost anything, although he likes in particular to do caricatures of boxers accompanied by humorous captions.
His drawings are eye-catching and well done and the humor he attaches to them will draw a chuckle or encourage a smile, a departure from what his artwork in a ring once created in opponents.
Morgan’s artwork then was confined mostly to gymnasiums in Indiana, Oklahoma and the Twin Cities, his brushstrokes applied wearing ten- or twelve-ounce Everlast gloves.
“He could box,’’ recalled international referee Denny Nelson. “Jab, jab, jab. Busy, busy ,busy. In and out. He was very active.’’
Morgan comes from a talented and athletic family. Two of his brothers, Glenn and Mike, won multiple Upper Midwest Golden Gloves titles before making their marks as professional fighters. Brothers John, Gordy and Marty were exceptional wrestlers at the University of Minnesota later for U.S. Olympic teams.
You cannot grow up a Morgan and not be touched by one of the two sports. “Boxing was like drinking a glass of water,’’ Dan said. “It was just something you did.’’
The Morgan clan was led by their father, Jim, a highly respected Hall of Fame inductee himself who refined amateur and professional fighters during a distinguished career. Dan has three children of his own, sons Seamus and Barry and daughter Madeline. He served in Iraq as a marine in 2009-10 in the Red Bulls platoon when being in condition paid off in even more important ways. He was reminded of its importance whenever duties included running to the top of a strategic hill.
Dan Morgan built an enviable record after turning professional, winning 40 of 44 fights 28 by knockout. The four losses on his ledger came during the final six fights of his career, three of them in World title matches.
Whenever Dan recalls his upbringing it includes the guiding words of his father. “We’d come home wanting to hang out with some of the neighborhood kids, but dad said ‘no, get your bag, you’re going to the gym,’ ’’ Dan said. “He drilled into us that you had to stay in condition.’’
“He was always in good condition, always in shape,’’ said Hall of Fame fighter Mike Evgen who sparred with Morgan. “And he was tough as nails. You could hit him with a brick and he just kept coming. He could take everything you threw at him.’’
You had to be tough to survive young adulthood in the Morgan family. “I sparred with my older brothers and they took turns beating on me,’’ Dan recalled.
Morgan became an itinerant professional fighter. He lived for a time in Indianapolis where he had three fights and branched out for others in cities easily accessible, such as Louisville. Later in his career he relocated to Oklahoma City, where he had 15 fights. “There was a dinner club there that gave us regular fights,’’ he said. “It was a good setup.
Morgan fought only three times in his home state, all on cards in St. Paul. His career ended with knockout losses in three title fights: He was stopped by unbeaten Christophe Tiozzo in France for the WBA Super Middleweight title. Later he lost to Michael Nunn for the same title in Mexico City and finally to Marc Randazzo in Rosemount, Illinois, for the WBC Continental Americas Cruiserweight title. In the only other loss of his career he was stopped by Steve Collins in Dublin, the night U2 paid a visit to his locker room.
While training in St. Paul during his early career, Morgan could occasionally look up in the gym-nasium and spot a fellow working on the heavy bag, at other times seated on a chair in the gym, perhaps writing in a notebook.
The man was August Wilson, the Pulitzer Prize winning playwright and dramatist, whose works Denzel Washington is transferring to the screen. Wilson, who reportedly worked on much of his drama “Fences’’ that Washington made into a movie, was writing in St. Paul at the time and was studying boxing for some of his stories.
“He would work on the heavy bag and actually train with us sometimes,’’ Dan recalled.
Once again, the interests of an artist, a literary one in this case, and the sport of boxing had crossed paths. Those pathways can lead various places. For Irish Dan Morgan they have led directly to the Minnesota Boxing Hall of Fame.