12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

that left with his own. Rowdy Madden didn’t see the right. Net until it was six inches in front of his eyes, The right eame whistling up from the-floor. Rowdy tried to roll. But it wasn’t fast enough. ‘Bam! The leather-covered fist landed at the point of Rowdy’s chin, His feet lost contact with the floor. He came up off the canvas and did a neat backflip. When he came down, it was the back of his neck that hit the canvas first. For just an instant Rowdy Madden thought he was lying on a boat deck and @ powerful light was blazing in his eyes. Then the boat stopped rocking and some- body reached up and turned out the light. Rowdy didn’t know how much later it was. He thought the ship was sinking. His face was wet and it seemed that waves were slopping against it. His mouth had a salt taste. His stomach was doing a loop. He felt like hell. A bee buzzed past his ear. It annoyed him. Rowdy Madden opened his eyes and then he understood. He was sitting in his corner, and his manager, Frosty Brown, was sloshing water in his face. The salt taste was blood. Rowdy Madden’s blood. The buzzing was Frosty’s voice. Frosty was saying, “I got you a match with the champ. You wanted it. You been bawling for a title shot for six months. And then you blow it. That bell certainly saved you then,” Rowdy shook his head. Some of the fuzz left his mind. He sat there a mo-_.. ment, his young face twisted from the simple effort of thinking. ; “Tt leoked like a sure knockout,” he said. Frosty swore and his eyes were glacial. “The champ don’t leave himself open,” he aid bitterly, “I been tellin’ you that.” Rowdy said, “What round is it?” Frosty frowned. “That bad, hunh?” Rewdy Madden tried to remember. He couldn’t. He wished Frosty Brown would go easier on him. Sometimes he wondered why he’d ever signed up with a guy like Frosty. A fight manager could do a fight- er a lot of good if he knew how to be sympathetic. Frosty Brown couldn’t be that way. The rougher it was on Rowdy, the more bitter Frosty always got, 50 12 SPORTS ACES) | Frosty said, “It’s fourth round. Com- ing up. Remember?” Rowdy thought it over. He didn’t re- member. The champ had really belted him. Rowdy sat back and closed his eyes again, Frosty was talking, but Rowdy wasn’t listening. Rowdy was listening to the crowd. The crowd was against him and somehow he blamed Frosty Brown for that, too, HE crowd was saying, “That’s all for the pop-off kid! He’s kill-crazy. But the champ’s taking care of him. A guy can be kill-crazy against a stumble- bum. But tonight Rowdy Madden’s in there against the champ!” Rowdy Madden sighed. They hated him. Thanks to Frosty. But some day they wouldn’t hate him. Some day he’d prove that he had the stuff to wear the mantle of champion of the heavyweight division. Some. day. he’d make them see him for ~ what he was. Rowdy Madden was twenty-four. He’d been a heavy for three years, and he’d come up fast, considering the fact that he’d had to figure out a lot of things for himself. He’d been halfway up the ladder when the war started and that would have been. the end of it, except for one thing. Rowdy Madden had a mother and three kid sis- ters. They needed the dough that Rowdy’s. fights would bring in. © That was when Rowdy Madden went half crazy. He couldn’t make his family independent on a fight every three months in some tank town. He had to hit the jack- pot. So Rowdy Madden began saying, “Get me up there, Frosty. Get me in there with the champ! I’m gonna fight my way to the title and then I’m gonna get into the army! We gotta do it fast, Frosty !” Frosty was willing. Frosty played the horses and he liked to buy bubble water for the dolls. That took money, Frosty began to work Rowdy. hard and often. Rowdy did the rest. Rowdy began to try for knockouts. He began to pile up a record. He took care of them fast and early. He didn’t stall. He just went in there and made his own Eomichbooks (00)