IT was very sad to hear of the death of Henry Cooper. The catchphrase I always associate with Henry was “Enery’s hammer”.

This was a description of the formidable left hook with which he despatched a number of fellow pugilists.

To describe Henry as merely a puncher would be a mistake. He was a very accomplished boxer, never one who followed the philosophy of taking two punches to land one. He dominated a British heavyweight division that included Joe Erskine, Dick Richardson and Brian London.

Joe Erskine was a fine boxer but still ended up spread-eagled over the bottom rope after being hit by “Enery’s hammer”.

Henry will chiefly be remembered in a boxing sense for that night in 1963 when he knocked Cassius Clay (later Muhammad Ali) to the canvas. A beautiful left hook stupefied Clay, leaving him in deep trouble, only for the bell to rescue him.

Regaining the sanctuary of his corner, Clay was able to recover his senses with some assistance from his trainer Angelo Dundee.

Henry subsequently lost the fight but his elevation to hero status was assured.

Retirement came in 1971, but Henry continued to endear himself with the public long after his boxing days were over.

He attained fame and popularity but always remained true to himself. That is why we loved him.

Derek Parker, Bishop Auckland.

RE. Henry Cooper, I also have fond memories.

A few years ago I accompanied a friend to a recording of A Question of Sport in Manchester.

On arrival we were shown into the Green Room whilst the recordings were made.

It had been a long day and I kept wondering when the refreshments would arrive.

When they did I quickly made it to the table, only to come eyeto- eye with Marvin Hagler, the world light heavyweight champion at the time. He’d obviously had the same idea.

“No, after you, Marvin,” I said, as diplomatically as possible.

As I surveyed the feast over his shoulder, the door in front of us was flung open to reveal the massive frame of Frank Bruno.

He seemed to catch my eye and strode over to me booming: “Hello Henry”.

He strode towards me, hand outstretched and I meekly offered mine and waited for the expected crushing.

He came straight towards me but, at the last moment, veered away and grasped the hand of the man behind me in the queue, Henry Cooper.

I clearly remember the Henry Cooper era and followed all of his fights live on the radio..

I later had a very interesting chat with him about his career and his epic battles with the likes of Joe Erskine, Brian London, Dick Richardson and of course, Cassius Clay.

I found him to be a humble gentleman who still had no animosity over the way his title was “stolen” from him by a poor refereeing decision. But, of course, that was a time when the referee’s decision was final and to be respected.

Henry McLaren, Brancepeth, Durham.