Emma Peel Would Have Beaten Both Of Them

Press, Volume CVII, Issue 31385, 2 June 1967, Page 10

Emma Peel Would Have Beaten Both Of Them

(By

R. T. BRITTEN DEN)

Blood and bone, the gardener’s standby, was used lavishly to produce a satisfactory crop of squash and squeal at the Civic Theatre last evening when a near-capacity audience was transported into a state of rapture by the virtues and iniquities of Bob Banard, Steve Rickard, Joe Sokaiski and Tiger Taylor.

i While there were merits, in a wrestling sense, in the activities of Sokaiski and Taylor during the tag match i which brought a noisy evening to a close, Banard and Rickard I were the soloists. But the programme could hardly have started more unI happily. Taylor met Sokaiski. It was a pity. Taylor | won, but on the standard of performance, Emma Peel could have accounted for both of them while Steed poured the champagne. The eagerly-awaited meeting of Rickard and Banard for what was billed as the championship of Australasia was of a very different calibre. BEST v. WORST Rickard stands for all that is best in British sportsmanship; Banard for all that brings the wrestling audiences in on a cold night. They had aired their differences in a television programme the previous evening, and never was virtue so swiftly rewarded. At the handshake, Banard kicked Rickard smartly in the stomach, and went on to commit more felonies. But within a minute or so, Rickard was at it with jolts and drop • kicks to-leave the substantial , Banard prostrate and looking i rather like an arch from the i Sydney harbour bridge. It was bewildering in its ■ speed; as if it were Manchester United playing New ZeaI land. i After that, Banard regained i his poise, if that is the word. . Rickard’s modern hairstyle i was a disadvantage to him, . and by the third round he > succumbed to a barrage of t blows and kicks which went • to prove that in wrestling, > science isn’t everything. i Like Taylor before him [ Rickard was bloodied but unI bowed; yet there has never . been a more convincing case i of semi-consciousness. Rickard > was as stubborn as de Gaulle i and, rather more popular. DISQUALIFIED r Yet fate—or something—- • decreed that he should lose. , In the fourth round he and ; Banard traded jolts with tre- ; mendous enthusiasm, and i finally Rickard had his man , in a corner. Twice warned - by the referee, Mr J. Howard, I to desist, Rickard continued ■ to bore in while the audience i went berserk with him. Final- - ly, Rickard was disqualified. The violent reaction of the • audience to this decision was of as little material assistance to Rickard as the sight of

Banard strewn across the ropes, looking like a rather old eiderdown.

The crowd was a little happier when the ring announcer, Mr E. A. Chivers, said that international rules prohibited Banard from winning the title on a disqualification; if Rickard was a lesser man, he could see in this a way to hold his title until he was due for social security. TEAM CAME FIRST "And now, with a bit of luck, we’ll have a tag bout,” Mr Chivers said above the hubbub, and it was one of last rational moments for some time. Banard, teamed with Solanski, provided most of the devilry. But he is nothing if not a team man. When Solanski was in trouble, which was regularly, Banard was willing to commit a breach of etiquette to come to his assistance. But he did not leave it at that. At regular intervals, Taylor was inveigled into the opposition corner, where Banard and Solanski belaboured him with a pleasing rhythm, like a pair of experienced blacksmiths at the forge. And while Rickard attempted to intervene, he was ushered back into his corner. The referee, Mr J. Duke, was in fact as busy as a housewife who doesn’t know whether to attend to the burning cake before the overflowing bath. It was when Banard and Rickard were in opposition that the crowd was threatened with seizure. For good measure, there were some skirmishes between rounds, as well as in them. Taylor restored British prestige in the third round, when he achieved thq seemingly impossible by seizing one of Banard’s arms and compelling his 2721 b opponent to turn somersaults. DEATH LOCK But soon Taylor was caught in one of the Indian

death locks. He made desperate efforts to tag Rickard but was pulled back each time; his despair suggested Beau Geste had just spilled his water bottle after a week on the waggon. Still in the third round, Rickard had Banard pinned in the top ropes, while be and his partner set the whole ring swinging, like ambitious little spiders who have caught a large fly. After all this excitement, the fourth was brief. Rickard, with a swinging knee and drop kicks, pinned Banard and left him on the mat, legs and arms kicking feebly like a great white moth. The fifth was also very brief, Rickard carrying all before him in tremendous display of violence. He accounted for Banard again, and, after victory had been pronounced, Taylor and Rickard delivered an epilogue with Banard again out of the ring and glad to be there. As were the spectators.