Judge — March 26, 1932 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE UDGING me SPORTS (Norte: A number of young men who turned pure after long and varied careers as amateurs have broken down and told all in the public prints, laying bare to the marrow the terrible sacrifices and privations that a guy must suffer to get hooked up with a lucra- tive expense account, This following amazing revela tion—amazing hell!, astounding is the word- gives further insight into the unspeakable situation.) By Charlie Von Richards II (Open and Closed Pain-in-the-neck Champion of the USA) N° that I am no longer an op- AN pressed subject squirming under the iron heel of tyranny I fecl that I am at liberty to speak my mind freely on a subject that is not only fraught with viciousness but is un-American to the very core. I speak, obviously, of what iy shame- lessly called amateurism in this coun- try and the sordid influences which contribute to the foul life of this insti- tution of sham and hy] For a great number of years I was an amateur and if it had not been for the fact that Mr. Cash-and-Carry Burp, truly a man among men, took me to one side and convinced me that I could make more money as a profes- sional- isy. or rather as a business man player—I might still be wallowing in the mire of deceit. I have always been an enthusiastic follower of sports and even in my boy- hood days I preferred the golf course, the tennis court, or the 100-yard-dash to a life of comparative luxury in a smelly factory or a stuffy office building. It was only natural, therefore, that as I matured, which is to say grew older, that I should unselfishly conclude that my mission in life was to lend my genius and wizardy to the development of sports for sports sake and thus set an example for the red-blooded youth of the nation, remembering that at one time I was a red-blooded youth, too. Tr was in this manner that I fell into the silky snares of the AAU BV G USGA of America, and while I was too unsophisticated and too fired with spiritual ardor at the moment to realize what was taking place, yet from that precise moment on I was destined to become a chattel and a slave. Not only my body, but my soul as well belonged to those overlords of amateur sport. There was no limit to the oppres- sions to which I was forced to submit. Year after year I was compelled to travel around the country in special trains, put up at doggy hotels, si checks for anything I wanted, and compete in. fashionable tournaments which kept me constantly in the pub lie ezaristic While other young men might re main at home enjoying the simple de lights of the radio and a half-day off from the shops on Saturday without pay, there was no surcease for me under the fierce autocracy of these Frankensteins of amateurism. Always it was the same stifling, choking life —country clubs, dinner dances, cock- tail parties, tournaments and_ inter views with vulgar pressmen. Ture would be times, too, when the all sounded for international in- vasions and it was necessary to drop everything (once I had to drop a hand with twelve spades) and catch the Ik de France to uphold the rugged tra- ditions of God, game and country Gad! I shudder even now when I re call those stirring times of combat. There would be other times when a message would arrive from the team captain summoning me to report at Palm Beach the first week in Febru aking me away from the slush and snow of the North and ruthlessly (Page 28, please) comicbooks.com