DUMB BOXER IN RING

Evening Star, Issue 21308, 12 January 1933, Page 4

DUMB BOXER IN RING

TRIUMPH OVER FATE HOMAGE OF A CROWD. A blind face grinned to the arc lights. It turned and gazed over the heads of the crowd in the New Vale Hall, Kilburn, London, recently, out over the wreaths of smoke and the pattern of caps and hats—into nothing. Andrew Newton, the middle-weight, who passed from light into darkness during his last fight four years ago against Marcel Thil, the present middleweight champion, was about to give his first exhibition of sightless ball-punch-ing and boxing. Half a dozen lads had already given of their best in the ring, to the delight of the crowd. They could see. This man has no eyes, and the crowd watched him show such mastery of the punching ball as is denied to many normal champions. The thud of gloves on ball developed into a machine-like rhythm. It slackened as he took the ball on his head, shoulders, and elbows. It thundered again as he went at it with both hands. Then some shadow-boxing. “ Phil Fellows!” said Newton, as he swung wide, and the crowd roared with laughter. Fellows is well known for swinging his blows. Newton has never seen him, but he parodied his stylo perfectly.’ Then came a round with his father Next came a brisk round with Tom Donnelly, an especially promising boy. It seemed incredible that Newton was blind. , , , At the end he staged a fake knockout, and, rolling on his back, ho sang “Underneath the referee’s hand I dream the count away"!”—a sense of humour? More than that. It was unconscious heroism. Into the ring came a shower of coins. The crowd was paying its highest compliment to a man who has climbed the highest peak of misfortune.