Harry Greb. Chances are that name rings no bells for most. And that’s perfectly understandable—especially for the newer generations of boxing fans, and even for many of the older ones. After all, he belonged to a distant era, fighting between the mid-1910s and the late 1920s—over a century ago. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that maybe 1.5%—if that—of those reading this know who he was.
That said, or perhaps because of that, let us introduce you to one of the rarest figures to ever grace the squared circle—a true gladiator of the ring. What follows is a brief glimpse into the remarkable career of a fighter whose legend has stood the test of time.
His real name was Edward Henry Greb, born June 1894 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. But to boxing historians, he’s simply known as Harry Greb—The Pittsburgh Windmill—a nickname that captured his relentless, whirlwind style. A middleweight by weight class, Greb was placed time and again by seasoned boxing scribes among the finest fighters to ever lace them up.
⸻
A Fight for the Ages
It only takes one fight to earn a place in history—and for Greb, that moment came on May 23, 1922, in the boxing mecca of New York City, when he squared off against then–light heavyweight national champion Gene Tunney. For context, four years later, Tunney would famously dethrone the legendary Jack Dempsey—the “Manassa Mauler”—and beat him again in the rematch, in the fabled “Long Count” bout.
Tunney came into their 1922 showdown at 174 pounds—about 12 pounds heavier than Greb. The marine-turned-champion was unbeaten in 53 fights. Greb, on the other hand, had already fought over 200 times. He also entered the ring with a serious handicap: he had suffered a detached retina the year before and was already experiencing severe vision loss.
According to many reports, Greb resorted to every dirty trick in the book to level the playing field—headbutts, rabbit punches, low blows. In the very first round, he broke Tunney’s nose with a headbutt, setting the tone for a wild, bruising 15-round affair.
When it was all said and done, Greb walked away with a hard-earned points victory—the only loss of Tunney’s otherwise pristine career (he retired 65-1-1 with 47 knockouts). A World War I officer, a classical music lover, and an intellectual in private life, Tunney would later admit that he had no idea how he managed to stay on his feet in that brutal first encounter.
The rematch came in February 1923. Tunney, now at 175 pounds (again with a 10-pound advantage), regained the belt in another grueling 15-rounder. They met once more in March 1925, with Tunney tipping the scales at 181 and Greb coming in 14 pounds lighter. Tunney won again, but years later he would still name Greb as the toughest opponent he had ever faced.
⸻
The Relentless Middleweight King
Greb’s nickname wasn’t just for show. He was a perpetual-motion machine in the ring, a fighter who never stopped moving, never stopped throwing, and never took a backward step. From 1923 to 1926, he ruled the middleweight division, claiming the world title by outpointing Johnny Wilson on August 31, 1923. He successfully defended the crown six times—all by decision—against Bryan Downey, Wilson (in a rematch), Fay Kaiser, Ted Moore, Mickey Walker, and Tony Marullo.
On February 26, 1926, at Madison Square Garden, Greb lost his title to the brilliant Theodore “Tiger” Flowers—the first African-American middleweight world champion—in 15 fiercely contested rounds. Their rematch, on August 19 of that year, ended the same way: another loss for Greb. By then, the wear and tear had caught up to him, and the once-indomitable force of nature was fading. He never fought again.
Between 1913 and 1926, Greb fought no fewer than 290 times—some records say 305. His official tally includes 46 knockouts, 64 decisions, 1 foul victory, 3 draws, 5 decision losses, and 2 knockout defeats. An astonishing 168 bouts were declared “No Decision” due to the scoring rules of the era, and one was ruled a “No Contest.”
⸻
A Legend Gone Too Soon
Legally blind for the last years of his career, Greb died tragically young—at just 32—on October 22, 1926, in Atlantic City, New Jersey. He passed away following surgery to repair damage to his already compromised eye—just 65 days after his final appearance in the ring.
A venerable boxing historian once wrote that Greb combined “the speed of Sugar Ray Robinson, the durability of James J. Jeffries, the vitality of Henry Armstrong, and the murderous aggression of Stanley Ketchel, along with a will to win unmatched in the history of the sport.”
And from no less a figure than Jack Dempsey, heavyweight champion from 1919 to 1926: “Harry Greb was the fastest fighter I ever saw in my life—faster even than any lightweight.”
