DRAWN FROM LIFE

Auckland Star, Volume LXXVI, Issue 88, 14 April 1945, Page 5 (Supplement)

DRAWN FROM LIFE

By

rIE most spectacular or colourful sportsmen of my time were Lord Lonsdale, Sir Harry Preston, Jack pempsey, Steve Donoghue, Georges Carpentier, Charles B. Cochran, Walter Hagen, Gordon Richards, jack Hobbs, Herbert Chapman, George Duncan, Bombardier Wells, Cyril Tolley, Don Bradman Bobby Jones, Bill Tilden, Melbourne Inman, Jim Driscoll, Alec James and Jimmy Wilde. If women are going to be catalogued 1 must flinch at the word "colourful." Spectacular? Yes, just that. Spectacular. I can think—and the thought has been a lengthy one—of four only Suzanne Lenglen, Cecil Leitch, Diana Fishwick and Sonja Henie. TWO MEN Out of all that tumultuous mass of people that smothers the Epsom Downs on Derby Day, two men for years seemed to detach themselves completely and stand out stereoscopically against the rest—Lord Lonsdale and Steve Donoghue. And although he didn't ride so many horses Lonsdale seemed to capture the imagination of the public as much as, if not more than, Steve. The public of course was assisted by Lord Lonsdale's obvious pleasure at his popularity. Lord Lonsdale never disguised his sense of showmanship. But at least he was honest in his delight at giving the rapturous crowd their sense of sharing in it.

Lord Lonsdale proposed the best toast I think I have ever heard. He was speaking at a dinner I gave to champions of sport in a private room at the Ambassadors Club in London. Rising just before coffee was served Lonsdale said: "Gentlemen, I am now going to ask you to drink the health of a man who is not only a friend of all sportsmen but a friend of everybody. His Majesty the King. < It was 1 at this dinner that Lord Lonsdale told me that billiards was first played in China. Even if this isn't true, I still like to think of Inman going home and having to climb over the Great Wall. Also at the dinner was a guest who, apart from myself, was not a champion sportsman. He was a American

writer, a sporting columnist, and one of the best of his time. William McGeehan was his name and his column was called "Down the Line"

"Bill" McGeehan Happened _to be in Paris on a Continental tour for his paper. In response to my invitation wire he telegraphed: "If no boats available will be the only American male to swim the Channel in order to be with you on Thursday night." Before dinner I introduced McGeehan to Lord Lonsdale and in his article about the proceedings McGeehan wrote: "After introducing me to the Earl of Lonsdale, Tom Webster took me on one side and thumbing in the direction of his Lordship shook his head sadly and said: "Bill, they don't make 'em any more." If I did say that, I meant it. Because they don't make 'em any more.

PUNCTUAL , Among his other good manners, Lonsdale possessed that of punctuality. The football managers and secretaries had an annual dinner in London in the summer. For years I was the guest until —getting a little and excusably tired of my presence, I suppose—they asked me if I could get someone who was really important. I suggested Lord Lonsdale. Could I get him? His reply was that he "would be more than delighted." He never wore a mask.

Eight o'clock was the kick-off, and at two minutes to eight the late Billy Bassett and Fred Everiss, of West Bromwich Albion, were getting restive at the non-appearance of his lordship. I told them: ''He will not be here at two minutes to eight, nor two minutes past, either; he will be here at eight." It had hardly ceased chiming "eight" when the door opened and in came the old boy. CIGAR LORE At the dinner, claret, burgundy, and three different brands of champagne were put forward for his selection. He compromised with whisky and soda. Cigars about two feet long were placed before him. He brought his own, gave me one, and showed me for the first time in my life (and I thought I knew something about cigars) how to light it. Before drawing at the cigar he burnt it thoroughly at the end with four long wooden matches, explaining that it made it smoke sweeter I have since had this corroborated in a small brochure I picked up in Havana where they, too, know something about cigars. It was through this football dinner that Lord Lonsdale became president of the Arsenal Football Club. The late Herbert Chapman, then

manager of the Arsenal, quick on the uptake, a? usual, rang me up the morning following the dinner and asked if I thought that there was a possibility of Lord Lonsdale becoming the head of the Arsenal Club. I said "Doubtful," but I would write to him. "Delighted," was again embodied in his answer.

BOXING STORY Lord Castlerosse, who was fully aware of Lonsdale's imagination, was very funny when I told him what I had done. He said: "Tom, you've started something. In a couple of weeks Lonsdale will have the Arsenal playing in yellow (his lordship's colours); in three weeks he will be selecting the team, and in future years, when nobody will be able to go back so far in order to contradict him, he will be explaining to a large dinner party how in his young days, he used to play for the Arsenal. "Of course," Castlerosse went on, "the old boy will add, 'I naturally was compelled to play under an assumed name. I played under the name of Alec James.' " I have heard Lord Lonsdale on three occasions tell the story of how he fought, and beat, John L. Sullivan. Once, at a dinner given to the cowboys when they were over here for the rodeo, he told the assembled and astonished crowd haw he, in his young days, assisted ■ to hold-up a stage-coach. 1 To get as near politeness as Lord Lonsdale himself, I should say on ■ plenty of evidence that these stories ■ were slightly on the exaggerated ; side. But they were inoffensive and could be forgiven the moment one watched. his rapturous face as : he was telling them.

A NOBLE MAN Apart from this human and amusing imperfection, it can be truthfully said: "He was a noble man." And I should always feel obliged to ask anybody who doubts this to produce or even point out a human specimen who, as far as integrity is concerned, can rate 100 per cent. He may exist somewhere, but I should hate to go round the world with him.