Judge — November 30, 1929 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

rver have T seen ay futile and fussy and generally N punk a set of prize-fights as the agitated flutterings discoursed in the ring of Madison Square Garden ona recent evening under the working title of “Flyweight Championship Elimination Tournament.” but when thes« irritating gnats leit the ring after forty rounds of tay, face-tag and squat-tag, it occurred to me that nevertheless there probably was not a man in the meag about the ring, with the exception of such professional fighters, active or erstwhile, as chanced to be present, who was man enough to enter the same ring and lick the worst flyweight on the card. This bald and rheumy-eyed old midget by the name of Something or-Other (probably Kid) McCoy. king not of a stein | or spittoon-throwing or chair-swing- ing contest in the fee in a twenty-four-foot ring under the attendance "in my opinion, Now Tam spe back room of a « resort, but of a boxing mateh rules of civilized fist-fighting and the supervision of a referce, and my point is that the so-call verage American knows most nothing ibout boxing. He cannot defend himself against a fifth-rate profes- sional boxer even though he be con ceded an impost of anywhere from fifty to one hundred and _ fifty pounds of beef and blubber. To be explicit, I would back this Some- thing-or-Other McCoy, who weighs not more than one hundred and fif- Cc teen pounds, to bat the upholstery out of Mr. Big Bill Edwards, late of Arren Princeton, who weighs —approxi- mately three-eighty, in less than six rounds, and if it be argued that Mr. Edwards has grown pokey with the years, then [will offer the sam: wager as to Mr. Will Cunningham, of Boston, Mass.. an All-American center at Dartmouth College as recently as 91 My only stipulation would be that the length of the contest be set at ten rounds to protect my bet, believ- ing that, in spite of the abundance of blue-and-white-tiled athletic parlors which are muleting puffy citizens of their funds, preying on the pathetic instinct for athletics, the for thirty football again! average Ox his shadow minutes. Tam dealing with th at American delusion and fallacy familiarly expressed in the great American threat to give somebody a damned good bust on the nose. The simple fact of the matter is that we have no more instine tive talent for busting one another on the nose effectively than we have for throwing the screw-ball or the fifty-six- pound weight. Not only would the worst of the fly- weights in question, whom I took to be this Mr. MeCoy, citizen cannot own JUDGE By Westbrook Pegler ss, elude, lacerate and exhaust. the rdless of weight in the course of iverage citizen ten rounds under orderly rules, but he would be quite likely to win by a technical knockout or by default in half that time be the layn nose is incapable of Late Srocx Savesmax—IVell, I guess I'll have to get a job playing USE in who spexks so lightly of busting people on the ping at the pace that would be set ya professional pri . He would collapse and perhaps dic lure in mid-ring before the he too discreet to Here and there formal for him b -fighter, especially by a of heart- nd of round five, or would ve his corner for round six. one sees an amount of random, in- the fist-fighting between petulant citizens in course of a life-time, but 1 will hi to that such mad-fighting as I have observed has been uniformly terrible. Behind the common desire and the somewhat less common exe- cution of the desire to bust persons on the nose there is only 3 impulse to let fly with one blow or sock, and this one, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, consists of the most naive gesture known to pugilism, a right-hand lead for the face. If it lands high or wide or short, the belligerent has no recourse but to rush into a clinch and he tight because he is un matter of footwork, composure Lis aught in’ the and , and only knows enough that if he pulls back to cock himself for another such lu his adversary will then take a sim free-hand right swing at his Then, when he has closed in, neither balance to realize ORIOL Cras he nor his opponent knows enough about infighting to work one hand free to hook at the heart or liver, or whale away with circular swings at the sensitive portions of the back. So they hang tight, chattering evil comments on the fore- bears of one another, and wrestle about, upsetting tables and trampling on the satin slippers of the ladies. Finally someone ina slept-in dinner-jacket, wearing one or more quilted ears, to wit, a broken-down preliminary fighter how serving as house-houncer, patiently pries them apart and cither invites them to drink and make up or bunts them down the front and rear stairs, respectively. It is not the sincerity but the technical talent and sical Jay fist-fighter which I under- although his sincerity as often as not is » too. I had the honor of bein cramped compass of a low resort in Jate house-detective of the New York Giants, and it chagrined me to reflect after- ward that, although I had studied the tricks of perhaps (Continued on page stamina of the oper fist-fought in Chicago by Mr. Cozy Dola once books.com