Longest Boxing Match: History, Records, and What It Really Means

When you think of a longest boxing match, a contest that stretched far beyond the standard 12-round limit, often fought under outdated rules with no time limits. Also known as bare-knuckle marathon fights, these battles were less about skill and more about endurance—where the ring became a test of will, not just technique. The record holder? A fight in 1893 between Andy Bowen and Jack Burke that lasted 110 rounds—over seven hours—with no winner declared because both men collapsed from exhaustion. No judges, no stoppages, no gloves. Just two men, a dirt floor, and a crowd that refused to leave.

This wasn’t an outlier. In the late 1800s, bare-knuckle boxing, the raw, unregulated form of the sport before gloves and timed rounds became law. Also known as prizefighting, it was the norm across England and the U.S. Fights could go on for days. Fighters trained for weeks just to survive one bout. The boxing rules, the standardized guidelines that eventually ended these brutal marathons. Also known as Marquess of Queensberry Rules, they were introduced in 1867 to make boxing safer—limiting rounds to three minutes, requiring gloves, and introducing a ten-second count for knockdowns. But change didn’t happen overnight. Even after the rules were written, some rural matches ignored them for decades. The longest match under official rules? A 1947 bout in New Orleans that went 14 rounds—still brutal, but nothing like the 110-round nightmare.

Why does this matter today? Because the longest boxing match isn’t just a footnote—it’s a reminder of how far the sport has come. Modern boxing is about precision, strategy, and recovery. Back then, it was about survival. The fighters who went the distance didn’t win trophies—they won the right to walk away. And that’s the real legacy. Below, you’ll find posts that dig into how boxing has changed: from the psychology of aggression to why modern fighters avoid street fights, and even how terminology like "match" versus "fight" carries weight. These aren’t just stories—they’re threads in the same fabric. The same ring. The same fight.