Judge, 1932-01-02 · page 12 of 36
Judge — January 2, 1932 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Letters of a Self-Made Athlete" This is a humorous letter from a young hockey player ("Bull") to his father, written in the style of early 20th-century sports fiction. The satire targets the brash, unsophisticated American athlete and social climber. Bull describes playing hockey in New York and Montreal, flirting with a French-Canadian woman named LaRue at games, and getting penalties for on-ice misbehavior. The humor derives from his malapropisms ("bowl of referees"), crude attempts at romance, poor financial management, and casual references to supplementing his income through wrestling. The top cartoon shows a man bribing an official with pickles—satirizing contract fraud or bribery. The bottom illustration depicts an ornate social event, likely mocking the pretensions of newly wealthy or athletic men attempting to navigate high society. The overall joke: self-made athletes are uncultured, financially irresponsible, and comically out of place in refined settings.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
TDGE LETTERS OF A SELF-MADE ATHLETE M on Crter Papa: Don't get scared now. I got the above from a book of French stories I picked up in Montreal. This week we hopped down to New York and played the Rovers, and from now on life for me is sto be just a bowl of referees. I wy you how that of mine an old man who is a ref. Pp came down from Bostor nd was he see me? J n oyster loves whiskey ! A doll called ria LaRue faced off the puck for us. This LaRue is easy on the eves all right and takes a seat right behind the penalty box. "I can see that it’s up to me to bring a little romance into her life. So when Demonet comes down the ice I e him the shoulder—w ham! Cleo’s old man skates up. “Two minutes for you,” he yells and skims off, hummi: Well, I find that LaRue knows her hockey what's more, speaks frog. “Ca va, mon gars?” From then on I take two raps a period from Gus, and Eddie, our er, gets sore and slaps a fine on me. Hor- s ‘turning x sissy onus. I go around to LaRue and date her up for Boston. We ought to have a pretty good time if such a thing is ever been heard of in Boston. I can’t save any dough with this outfit. Not so long as these simple French boys (oh, yeah!) use the dice they do. ‘be I'll take some of those wrasslin’ offers I had last ear. I could go for some of that easy sugar those canvas- back ducks are chipping off. My old pi ech, is knocking ‘em dead in C hi Au revoir, cherry. And mind the appl Your son, Bull. “With each jar of these pickles, madam, there's a free thirty-page book on how to play contract.” “Believe me, this is the last time I take you any place! 10 comicbooks.com