BOB FITZSIMMONS

Hawera Star, Volume XLIX, 17 August 1929, Page 13

808 FITZSIMMONS

CHAMPION ON TOUR. AN INCIDENT IN HIS VAUDEVILLE CAREER. ißy ‘‘.Physical C'ulturist.” uVU Rights Reserved.)

in writing of Robert Fitzsimmons .1 nave expressed the opinion that the “.Ruby” one possessed a sleeping ( science or uncanny skill not apparent to his opponent or to others around the ring. Times out of number in the earlier stages of a contest he has apj patently been receiver-general, until [ one false move on the part of an op- | poneut and then finis. While many ot rbe American top-notch boxers danced lightly on their feet, hopping or skip-i ping in or our, lightly balanced on their toes, Ron shuffled around flatfooted. A number of the Australian j top-notcliers had a similar system o'l gliding in and out in the manner of Refer Jackson, who was a master ol footwork. As Fit/.. once said, lie would light any man in the world, hut was not anxious u, meet Black Refer. He may have been shy of the Black Prince's marvellous footwork. So deceptive was kit/,, with his feet that the great majority of blows which reached him carried no sting—lie seemj ed to have the art of timing to perfee- . tion. either in delivering his own j punch or in receiving another’s. He I would continue to take the tail end of punches as in his fight with Corbett until he saw the opening waited for, and then the end. Corbett always claimed that _ lie gave the i\ T ew Zealander a terrific beating before being knocked out by the solar plexus blow. But an examination after the fight showed the only damage Bob had sustained was a cut lip which required ) two stitches, and a red spot over the 1 left kidney. Sleeping science had won him fhe world’s heavyweight championship while he was still only a middleweight. Two hours after the light he was put. on (lie scales, and tinned the beam at 157 pounds (list Jlbt. Another such feat lias never been known in flic historv of pugilism. Alter his sensational defeat of Corbett. Fitzsimmons decided to get going- while (lie going was good. To Hus end lie started off on a knock-out torn-, taking a train to San Francisco the next day. While on this tour lie me.( flic famous Leadville Blacksmith, which story, though well known to lighting men. will hear retelling. in.it ijHAJJ \ liil JO Ri,.\C fxS.M i I n . .i. unopened UKt rms. lino nau aj .-iianu.ng oner or la.. Hollars a iouiiu uj anyone pro ruling tuey weie on j ineir leet at tne end of the fourth. | It was in Deadline, Colorado, a giant, titr tin tali, and weiglting litiu pounds, appeared at the hotel and a sued tor 800 Davis, who was billed as secretary. ‘‘First of all,' said tie, “is there any penalty for killing a man in the ring f ‘‘-No. no.” “That’s all i want to know,” the giant said after j assimilating this bit of information. I

■‘i never nit a man as hard as X to aid, hut to-mght I'm going to let myself go." "Who are you:"’ asked mavis. “What! Don’t you know me? i'm the Leadviile Blacksmith.” They shook hands, and the blacksmith lumbered off, dreaming of wliat lie would do to the little fellow who held the Heavyweight championship of the world. They were scheduled to meet in the Town Hall, it was a wooden affair, some 30 feet by 80 feet, and was nlled with miners, saloon-keepers, gamblers, Mexicans and Chinese. A young fellow played the piano for the

crower while it waited. Fitzsimmons •‘act’ consisted ol more than knocking out the local . aspirants. He

pumiieri the bag, ending tip wit-li a wallop that broke the rope and sent

tue uag flying out into uit* audience, t his was always worth a big hand. su-eJtsner and Hoper wrestled, and other athletic (ricks were indulged in. the shoemaker made Jiis usual an-

nouncement, offering 400 dollars to anyone who could last the limit with

the champion. For a moment there was a dead silence, then from the rear 01 the ball came a Imll-like bellow, “Here 1 am,” and the Leadville blacksmith ran down 1 lie aisle and jumped on io the stage. He wore black tights and an old

| led jersey, torn in front, which dis- | closed his huge, hairy chest. No bigger or more ferocious looking man ever appeared in any ring. His hands were enormous. liolj looked at him. and pursed hi.s lips in a whistle of surprise. Then lie grinned a. little. It was he who proved that the axiom “the bigger they are the harder they fall” was true beyond any doubt. A tremendous bucket, with a harness sponge floating in it, was brought on thei stage and set down beside the blacksmith's stool. Dan Hickey projected himself into the limelight as referee. He had to call ‘‘time,” since there was no bell. No sooner was the word out of his mouth than the blacksmith rushed at Fitz, swinging both his tremendous maulers. He scowled and grunted threats under his breath, and tried to batter the champion down with the fury of his attack. Bob coasted around the ring, ducking, blocking, and riding with the blows. For two minutes the blacksmith did not land a single one. .Just before the end of the round Bob took a glancing blow on the side of the head and pretended to be groggy. He staggered around with a. most distressed expression on his red face. He panted and floundered. Hickey yelled -‘time.” it took the combined efforts of several men to gel the blacksmith back to bis corner. lie was wildly excited, certain that lie bad the heavyweight champion just where hr wanted him. 'The blacksmith shouted 1 that he would kill Fitz. in the next | round, and there was a great deal of betting around the ringside. Boh lay hack in his chair, apparently exhausted. hut winking at Hickey and Steltzner. Again the referee called “time.”,

801 l shot out of his corner like a flash of lightning, feinted with his left, and let go an uppercut that started somewhere around his ankles. Ho came up on the halls of his feet, hooking the arm. and when the blow landed every ounce of muscle in his powerful frame was hack of it. The blacksmith was lifted completely off his feet. One can imagine the kick in that blow when a 2GO pound gianl was whipped into the air and forced into a nose dive to the floor. He rolled into the bucket, which drenched him as he lay there. And then came comedy. With the water sloshing over hint I be thought entered (he blacksmith's mind that he was drowning. Instantly he dragged himself along the floor with a tremendous overarm stroke, seized a ring nost, and hauled himself to his feet. His eves were blank and glassy. He rooked like a palm tree in a typhoon. The man was oat on his feet. “Gents,” he cried, “having licked this big. freckled ham. 1 now challenge anybody in the world.” A gale of laughter rocked the hor.se. Nothing funnier was ever seen in the ring.

Bob walked over to his erstwhile rival and placed a hand on his shoulder. “What did you say?” he asked. The j Leadviile Blacksmith turned ponder- • ously. stared at Fritz for an appreciable space of time, and then foil heavily to I lie floor unconscious. Tt took a doctor half an hour to bring the man back from the realms of darkness. Marly next morning—ii must have been before five o’clock — the Leadviile Blacksmith came hanging at the dor of Bob’s room. “I’m sorry to wake you up.” 1 m said. His right rye was almost closed, and the discolouration extended down his nostrils. The left eye was hidden under a hand kerchief. “I just wanted to ask von one question. Fit/,., before I go back to five mines. Tell me, honest-j Iv now. just between us two, what | did you have in that glove,—a rock or j a horse shoe, or what? I’ll never tell. I I iu;st want to know what was in it?”l Bob lifted his great hands and folded the fingers down into a batter-1 ins ram of a fis(. “That’s all.” he! said with a grin. “Honest?” “My word.” The blacksmith shrugged his! shoulders, touched bis bandaged eve I gingerly “Well, good luck, T’m going ( back to shoeing mules, and if anybody j ever catches mo fight in’ up here again, I f hope they’ll shoot me. Good-bye, I Mister Fitzsimmons.” And off ho went into the darkness.