Judge — August 13, 1927 — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Editor, Norman Anthooy. Outlawing the Experts the ringside, or around the mahogany. Bill Me Geeh I" been a bad season for fight experts, whether at who has done his share of prophesying about what he calls modified murder, has publicly promised to swear off experting if his coll would. nd at Geneva, where they’ve been discussing nents somewhat in the spirit of pugilistic pro- Lord Lee of Fareham up and said: “In the dark days of 1914, M. Clemenceau is reported to have said: ‘This war is far too serious to be en- trusted to Generals,’ and he was right. Equally, this question of the relations between England and America is far too serious to be left to the naval experts on cither side of the Atlantic.” Slowly but certainly the world is learning that it cannot study the art of peace from military minds. Ambassador Houghton, a business-trained diplomat, lately dared to say that war ought never to be de- clared except by the vote of all the people. Sweden, which has had no war for a hundred years, has treaties with seven countries pledging the settlement of all conflicts without resort to arms. Any general, admiral or statesman who starts a fight on any pre- text thereby puts himself and his government outside the pale of legality. Military experts sneer at this pretty notion of outlawing war. But the common sense of common men is outlawing the experts. PUES * * * Senator Borah, R. D. (Republican Dry) wants prohibition enforcement made a_ political issue. Otherwise, he says, the noble amendment will become “fossilized and futile “Otherwise” is not the word; it should be “anyho No national majority, if in- deed one can be mustered now, will ever coerce great aggregations of our people into observing a law that they not respect. Over wide areas that law is already a fossil, and the rigor mortis is spreading. Customers Who Come Back I" remains to be seen whether Jack Dempsey, in coming back himself, has also brought back the glamor that has been fast fading from the prize ring. His personality and Tex Rickard’s showmanship are about the only live assets the boxing game has now. His late fight brought out 80,000 of the customers, who hitherto had been in a prolonged sulk. They left Philadelphia last fall wet, woe-begone and Auociate Editors, Richard J. Walsh, Phil Rosa, Jack Shuttleworth, Dramatic Editor, George Jean Nathan wondering how Tunney got that way. They gave Maloney and Delaney a and saw lots of altzing but no wallop. ‘y paid good money to learn that MeTigue had false teeth. From the start of the open-air season, they were notable largely by their absence. Sharkey and Maloney earned less than half the anticipated receipts. “As Cunningham summed it up in the Boston Post, out in California the sport is flat on its back, Florida is completely washed up, the best bout Chicago could offer drew only two thousand people, and in Boston a fight that formerly would have packed ’em in was watched by only twelve hundred. But th recently me has vitality. Bernard Shaw hat killed the ring again and again in the nineteenth century was no savagery of the fighters, but the appalling dullness of most of the fights.” The Dempsey-Sharkey fight was not dull, but the cry of foul has left a bad after-taste. And there is no discernible hope that the meeting of Dempsey and Tunney will be any battle of the giants. But after all, the term harsher word natic three-million dollar g “fan” is derived from the They'll probably get that t the fight next month! * * * On one of the hottest afternoons of the summer a badly-sunburned youth, clad in running pants, his shoes in shreds and his soles blistered, trotted into Times Square, New York. Across his jersey was blazoned the derivative slogan “Spirit of Charles- town.” He had run all the way from Boston; another record broken. Eagerly he peered about for the re- ception committee, the band, the grandstand. But none was there to grect him, Alone in a great city! A tired boy with not much on, no lug; place to go. hundred and si twenty hours ye and no Having promised to ma the two ; miles in forty-eight hours, he was ate and his backers had given him up. It did seem as though one of them might have stuck around to give him, if not the keys to the city, at least a pair of trousers. The traffic bustled by him, not turning its head even so much as to snicker. So at last the newspaper men got him some clothes. We'd like to believe that this incident signifies a reaction against the sillier sort of record-breaking. But that saner day will not have arrived until some- body chokes the man who eats forty-eight pies or chops down a flag-pole-sitter. e Ri Js We comicbooks.com