EPITOME OF SPORTING NEWS.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 3601, 14 August 1912, Page 9

EPITOME OF SPORTING NEWS.

(By “Max O’Reilly.”)

By the meagre- accounts so far to hand, Dick Arrist sculled a lot worse than brave little (comparatively) Billy Fogwoll when it came to his turn to race Barry. Dick could only snatch a lead of a length and a-half at any part of the race, and when Barry really came at him he caught him and passed under Hammersmith Bridge, right on the elbow of the tremendous loop of the river forms there, on level ter ms. This is about the mile and three-quar-ters mark, and from there on the Englishman drew away and shot Barnes Bridge (31 miles) four lengths ahead of an utterly used-up eliamP ion - * * *

When Dick smelt the brewery adjacent apparently a rush of emotion passed over him, for he stopped to enjoy the odor, or something. This was about half-a-mile from the finish, and thence out Barry paddled home, practically alone, in 23min Bscc.

It was as great a fiasco as big Jim Stanbury’s defeat by Jake Gaudaur, on the Thames in 1896, which was the only time Australia lost the title since Beach tore it from. Hanlan in

1884. Hanlan had won it from the first holder, Ned Trickett, in 1880. Like Arnst, Stanbury was a giant, and like him, he couldn’t get well in England. But, unlike Arnst, Jim did keep up his practice, and tried Ins host to fit himself for the ordeal- Ho didn’t break an all-too-short period of training to take days off with the gun, shooting innocent little pigeons. Guess the birds have got a bit of their own back.

When one comes- to realise the enormous amount of work Arnst requires to get and keep him fit, and of his romantic marriage so disastrously recent, and of his avoidance of practice in his boat since ho beat Pearce, it is easy to account for the late champion’s wretched showing. * * »

Arnst had to take off, after lie arrived in England, something like 401 b, whereas, had lie kept in even decent form since he rowed Pearce, ho would easily have had a less burden by 201 b. He evidently got the idea into his head, like many of us, that he was the one—and the only one—and that ho could boat any possible opponent of the present day. Now wo all know different.

The cables tell us that the experts say that Arnst rowed with his arms ; “bends his arms and shoots his slide” are words also used. This alone will show what a rotten state the giant had got into, and how absolutely “oft his work” bo was, for when Arnst is at his best no man ever pulled as long with a straight arm and full swing than did Arnst when he was the real properly trained and sternly coached Arnst. The whole thing was an unforgiveable madness with whom wise men and patriotic refused to have anything to do. The race was no criterion of tho merits of the two men.

’Fhe defeat of the Australian eightoar crew, bv Leander Club, at Stockholm, was it hard blow to the Commonwealth enthusiasts. It was made the harder by reason of the belief that the -defeat was in a measure due to bad judgment on the part of tlioso responsible. The ere-w beat Leander on the Thames handsomely. Then the managers got to work and. sold the boat that- carried them to victory for a measly £25, while they displaced Heritage to put in Dr Ward, a Sydney student at Oxford University, who had actually been one of the crew of New College that the Australian-boys easily defeated. Seems bad judgment, though wc don’t know all the facts. * * *

His glory has departed! Rev. Hulton Sams, amateur lightweight champion boxer of North Queensland, yclept “The Fighting Parson,” was put out of tho first round by a common person named Saunders at the recent championship to select reps, to go to Brisbane for the Queensland amateur championship tournament. And to make matters worse for the game little reverend, ho seems, to -have taken and given a great hiding, and to have lost very narrowly on the result an extra (seventh) round; while, as if to rub it in his conqueror was beaten by Savage, of Longreaeh, who went down in turn before O’Neill. So that.Mr Sams comes out as a fourthrater, which is simply shocking, and flying in the face of the catechism and things liko that. * ■*

Jim Barry, the fighting joke from Montana, got to Sydney from San Francisco, somehow, on his own incentive and volition. It was found that the Sydney fans would not patronise fights in which he took part, and .ho didn’t got all the hard Australian money ho wanted, and seemed somehow to expect, goodness knows why! Then he slipped away, “unwept, unhonoi'ecl and unsung,” and as soon as he hit the wharf in Auckland he started filling the capacious lug of an Auckland reporter with hard luck stories of the wretched, returns ho got for his stupendous efforts. Bah! A noaccount sorehead and a pitiful squeaker ! In his own country -he is regarded as a joke. * * *

Tommy Burns seems to have .got a similar strangle hold on a section of tho Calgary (Alberta, 8.C.) -press, to that by which he “controlled” a section of that of Sydney.

There’s nothing in boxing for the “small” man. We constantly read “there was a large attendance,” ‘‘the hall was packed,” and so on. And then the poor pugs don’t faint only because they are too surprised and horrified to do even that, when they are handed a miserable sum that barely pays their training bills.

Lunacy takes some queer forms. An ex-jockey in a Maoriland asylum has still the love of racing in his blood. It is his delight to line- up a field of lunies with riders astride ’em, and hold a flat raco down the ward. He wanted to rig up forms for a steeplechase one day, but the warders, fearing broken necks, barred him.

Cooktown (Queensland) distinguished itself the other day by holding a great banana-wolfing contest, wherein Michael Feinn. the local champion, was knocked out by a certain Saxby, hitherto unknown to fame. Feinn, puffed up with vainglory, gave Saxby a startof six bananas, and was finally beaten by one. According to a Bananaland newspaper, there are grave suspicions of foul play, allegations being not infrequent that Feinn was hocussed with huge green bananas of unfair size, whereby he was so embarrassed in “coming up the straight” that Saxby whose bananas were of normal sizo, “waltzed in a winner. Cooktown has not l>oen so excited since the good ship Endeavor was beached there.

The padded lady lias been been with us through the centuries, but the padded pug is something new. People turn and gaze with awe at the tremendous shoulders of Sam Langford, Jack Lester and Co., as they swagger about the streets of Sydney; but there isn’t much to be frightened about. It is the tailor, not Nature, who is mainly responsible. Yes, siree, they are padded—padded out a treat.

Decided by an Adelaide Court that a live-and-ninepenny football jacket may be regarded as a legal “necessity” for Australian youth. Defendant was dissatisfied with the jersey, and pleaded infancy as a bandy way of avoiding payment. Tim Court first assured itself that the article was a reasonably good one for the price, and finally ‘ruled that, “considering the local surroundings and the habits of Australian youths, sport is a part of their lives; and in playing_ their games they have to dress according to the requirments of those games, within reason.” Verdict for the outfitter accordingly. •x- * * A Brisbane burglar with a sense of humor has broken into a policeman’s home, and robbed him of bis medals, won on the cycling track. * * * If some chaps would put as much time and brain-sweat into a bsuiness — say, oven a hen-raising industry—as they do into trying to hatch a system to beat the books, they would stand a good chance of becoming ultimately independent. * -x- * That grim old reaper. Death, lias garnered in another cricketer, his latest- victim being the old Australian player, George Bonnor, who visited England with the teams of ’BO, ’B2, ’B4, ’B6, ’BB. He was 57 years of age. In the early eighties Bonnor was a notable figure in the oriekot world, and thousands of people visited the various cricket grounds for the sole purpose of seeing the genial giant hit some- unfortunate bowler for a--sixer. Bonnor at this time was the finest physical specimau of a man to bo found in the athletic world. Ho was 6ft 4fin in height, and built in beautiful proportion. He was likewise a handsome fellow, with a fresh complexion, bright bluo eyes, and golden-brown beard. He was the admiration of the fair sox, and the envy of bis comrades. He was a fine runner, and in the outfield was invaluable, makino- many catches and saving many runs which an ordinary man would have considered an impossibility to do.