Judge, 1932-04-30 · page 8 of 36
Judge — April 30, 1932 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Judging the Sports" This satirical article criticizes the expense of sports in America, particularly around New York. The author complains that public golf links require long waits (compared to the "Chevalier ops"), tennis clubs are exclusive, and swimming at Coney Island is crowded and risky. The main illustration shows a well-dressed sportsman with hunting rifle surrounded by hound dogs, satirizing the pretense and expense of recreational hunting. A secondary illustration depicts someone in patterned clothing holding a gun with small animals at his feet—likely mocking amateur hunters trying to adopt aristocratic sporting traditions they can't afford. The narrative describes an actual hunting trip involving mule carts and corn liquor in the woods, suggesting the gap between genteel sporting aspirations and rougher rural reality. The piece is fundamentally about class anxiety and conspicuous consumption in American leisure activities.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
| TT! trouble with being a sports- man in America these days, espe- cially around New York, is that it costs too much. Harsh words sez you but true nevertheless. Municipal golf links, for example, are few and far between. When you get on one it is for all the world like queueing up to witness the latest Chevalier opus. One of the most inspiring memories tucked ay in my graying old head is that of the line waiting to tee off at Van Cortland Park Public links one early summer’s morn around six a.m. Inexpensive tennis seems to be un- heard of. Central Park contains a few shoddy courts which supposedly cater to the needs of the Tilden minded millions. Country Clubs open up their portals upon payment of a grand and rain check from the postponed sailing of the Mayflower. You 7 real dough to go swimming at Coney and look at the risk you take of being hit by a crate of grape fruit rinds or an empty case of scotch from some dry Congressman's yacht. Maybe I'm getting a little too Bolshie over all this? But out of this welter of blue notes rings a song of cheer. Taking the needs of the masses to heart I have done some fancy investigation on my own hook. I have unearthed a sport which I am sure will appeal to you all. A little while back I visited my uncle down in Alabama, suh! Owing JUDGE JUDGING te SPORTS to the fact that my coat and pants matched I could plainly see that 1 was regarded by all hands a pure specimen of “city slick This made it kind of hard at fi but class will tell and so the quaint souls thawed out enough to invite me on a hunting trip. Eager to sample real old fashioned Southern hospital- ity to the full, I assented. Le that night we set forth in mule carts, model T Fords, and what not. When we reached a large clearing in the woods the cavalcade halted. At this point uncle proved himself a prince among Nimrods by producing a gallon jug of corn likker. The assembled villagers then a1 nounced that the hunt was on. | must admit that, accustomed as | to the stiff formality of the Fairfield Drag and the cl consciousness of the Magdelen Beagles, I was in a bit 1 twitter. Where was the hunt What was the meaning of it all? However, just then one of the lads loosed a pack of panting houn dawys and quickly resumed his ay pointed place in the close circk around the jug of moonsh This signal for a very open minded discussion of the Five Y Plan I never did give a hang about s but time passed ve in one way or another. By we heard distant bayin: “Gosh darn it,” cracked a fat boy in the corner, who up to this moment had remained in silent contemplation of his tin cup. “That'll be Blessed if that houn’ aint possum already!” Other barkings, snifflings, yelpiny and burblings were heard from th rest of the pack in quick successi These were ali amazingly recoyniz and identified by the daw but nary a move was made to upstahk and track down the quarry. y quickly and by OWARDS yawning the tired hound crept back to camp. And so wit! empty demi-johns and hearts full ¢ cheer we moosied back home, ou voices ringing true and clear on th air to the strains of Moonlight Ba I find upon inquiry that this is very general sport all over the Sout Sefor W. O. McGeehan mentions (Page 27, please) comicbooks.com