Whenever I travel through Goldfield, I imagine elbowing into the roaring crowd to catch a glimpse of the great lightweight champion Joe Gans as he enters the ring shaded by an umbrella against the blistering September heat.

In the opposite corner is the gnarled and fearsome Oscar "Battling Nelson," who will do anything to win the title fight. More than 6,000 people have taken places in hastily constructed grandstands made of fresh-cut lumber. Swells and speculators, merchants and muckers, have all come to watch the fight of the new century in Nevada's last great mining boom town.

Was it 100 years ago, or just yesterday, that Gans and Nelson tangled for 42 rounds in the afternoon sun and changed the fight game forever?

These days only a plaque commemorates the event, but I believe the Gans-Nelson fight is worthy of a magnificent statute. And I haven't been standing too long in the sun.

Las Vegas promotes itself as "the Boxing Capital of the World," but Goldfield still gets my vote. A century ago today, promoter and Northern saloon owner Tex Rickard staged the Gans-Nelson lightweight championship fight and brought the business of boxing into the modern age.

What a business Rickard did that day.

He raised $50,000 from local business owners to secure a whopping $33,000 purse for the prizefighters and pay for the construction of the boxing venue, which was built in eight days, Joseph D'O'Brian reports in "The Business of Boxing."

Nelson, the white lightweight champion, received $22,000. Gans, the black champ, accepted $11,000 and entered the fight as the favorite of ringside touts. The gate for the fight exceeded $70,000, according to one published report, and Rickard made sure that pictures of the fortune in gold coins being offered the fighters were circulated in the nation's press with a Goldfield dateline.

The extravaganza proved that cleverly promoted boxing matches could draw big-paying crowds and boost local businesses. It also proved that race sells in sport, and the championship fight broke the color barrier and surely influenced future title bouts involving black boxers such as Jack Johnson. Gans is recognized as the first black American boxing champion.

Once word spread of the staggering amount of money that could be generated, elected officials across the land gradually began to rethink their prohibition against professional pugilism. Muhammad Ali saved boxing in the last half of the 20th century, but Gans and Nelson helped take it from the barges and buckets of blood and into concert halls and onto the sports pages at a time the fight game was scorned in civilized society.

Of course, none of that would have been possible had it not been a great fight. Gans was masterful; Nelson was malevolent.

Gans simply pummeled his opponent in the early rounds, winning the first nine easily from the man sometimes known as "the Durable Dane." Gans floored Nelson three times but couldn't put him away despite turning his face to hamburger.

But Gans, too, suffered. Nelson was a ferocious brawler who spilled blood, his own and others', in roped rings across the West. Fighting dirty came as naturally to him as a thumb in the eye and a knee to the groin. He occasionally punched above the belt.

He'd need every dirty trick in his bag to stand in against Gans, who slipped punches and boxed in a fluid, modern style that relied as much on agility and guile as brute strength and the ability to endure punishment. Nelson, meanwhile, was more than happy to take two to deliver one.

By one account, Nelson bled from the ears, eyes, nose and mouth. By the 42nd round, Gans was nearly blind despite having his way with his opponent for most of the afternoon. When the desperate Nelson delivered one too many low blows, the referee stopped the fight and declared Gans the victor.

The roar of Goldfield's boomtown masses have long been replaced by the wind as it rushes through the barren hills and down the long desert valleys. The town has seen better days.

But that's another good reason why a sculptor of great acclaim should be commissioned to carve a statue of Gans and Nelson. Goldfield, the state's original boxing capital, deserves no less.

And since the work of art would be made of bronze or granite, Battling Nelson would be prevented from hitting below the belt.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.