WILDE'S WATERLOO.

Manawatu Standard, Volume XLIV, Issue 791, 22 August 1923, Page 12

WILDE'S WATERLOO.

! FIL-WEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP. ' PANCHO VILLA WINS. BRITON'S AMAZING PLUCK. Pancho Villa, of the Philippines, is flyweight champion of the world, wrote Mr Robert Edgrcn, to the London Daily Express, from New York on June 19. He knocked out Jimmy Wilde, of Britain, in tho seventh round of terrific slaughter ior it was more slaughter than fight. The knock-out, which came after a minute and 46 aeconds of mauling in the seventh round, was a right-hand punch to tho chin—not a very hard punch, but it did not need to bo a hard punch. When it came over Wilde was absolutely helpless, although still blindly swinging his arms in an instinctive effort to-put over one .blow in defence of the crown which was rapidly slipping from his convulsed, bloodcovered head. Both his eyes were nearly closed when the seventh round began. BULLDOG GRIT. More Haley went to Wilde's corner at the end of the sixth round and asked if he would have the towel thrown in, Wilde, with British bulldog grit, shook his head. When the bell rang again ho jumped up and, just as in .every round before, started toward the Filipino, refusing to take a backward step even when he reeled under Villa's blows. ' In the seventh round Wilde did little hitting, and, at times blinded, he did not know which way to turn to face his foe. The knock-out blow hurled him to the floor flat on his face. It was 10 minutes before he could leave his corner. As .Wilde was taken away, his eves closed and his face unrecognisable, tho crowd waiting patiently in a densely-packed mass round the ring sent up a great roar of cheers of appreciation of the white man s courage. There was one unfortunato incident in the fight, and possibly the result might have been different if it had not occurred. It came while tho sound of the bell was still in the air after the end of the second round. Villa had jarred Wilde with swift, crushing blows that Wilde could not avoid. At times Wilde had staggered back, only to force his way in again, for it had been his custom never to retreat. In the last minute of tho second round ho suddenly began slogging harder. Villa staggered him with a stinging right on the chin. It looked like Wilde's finish, but ho came back fighting, with an expressionless face, deliberate, unhurried, and seemingly cool and confiThen, just before the bell, Villa whipped a terrific right into Wilde's body. Wilde oame back with a hard left on the chin, and they closed. Villa gathering himself to start a right-hand punch. His arm dropped awav behind him to put the full swing into the blow. AFTER THE BELL. Tho bell rang, and Wildo instantly dropped his hands; but before he could turn toward his comer Villa, a fraction of a second after tho bell, started that waiting right. His fist crashed squarely against Wilde's jaw, lifting him from his feet, and dropping him flat on the floor. Wilde lay for a moment struggling to roll over and rise. His face had a look of bewilderment. Ben Williams, his trainer, rushed out, picked him up, and started to drag him to his corner. The referee waved Villa back. Shouts and jeers filled tho air. It was probable that Villa did not mean to hit the blow after the bell. He was poised taut to send it across, and he let it go, but undoubtedly it was a foul blow, and if the rules of boxing had been strictly followed, Villa would have been disqualified, and the fight given to Wilde. Wilde lav back against the ropes during the part of his minute's rest that remained when ho was dragged to his chair. He was in bad shape, dazed, weak, hardly realising whether tho fight was over or still going on, but the bell rang again, and he stepped out to fight. The crowd stopped protesting over the foul blow. WILDE'S WONDERFUL RECOVERY. Exactly what Wilde might have accomplished if he had not been knocked down lifter the bell when he had dropped his hands and relaxed the muscles that hold a man -against punishment, nobody Avill ever know, hut what he did in the third round was nothing short of a miracle. That Briton has a lion's heart in his small body. Reeling and unsteady, ho went after Villa and bent him back acros9 tho ring and plastered him against iho ropes. Villa struck back furiously, but Wilde took everything that came his way, nnd seemed gradually to fight himself back to full consciousness and strength. To the crowd's utter amazement Wilde had all the better of the fighting in tho third round. All through the fourth he pressed Villa hard. Villa, driven to tho ropes, used his double action punch time and again, hooking his left across and swinging it back to catch Wilde on the chin. It was a back-hand blow barred by boxing rules, as it was likely to be delivered with the heel of the hand. Wilde turned once and protested to the referee. The fourth was Wilde's, but he was weakening fast. The fifth round was fairly even, but in the sixth Wilde was so weak that he could only stand and try feebly to drive in his slim arms to beat Villa to the punch. This was where the real slaughter began. Villa hit Wilde with everything. The wonder was where Wilde found his powers of resistance, for he was unable to slip aside from the blows or raise his htuids in defence. "STOP IT!" He was cut by the flying gloves, his eyes were fast closing, and his face was a mass of bruises. The crowd all round me where I sat close to the ring-side, shouted to Referee Haley to stop it, and Haley hovered about to catch Wilde if he went down. It was evident that Wilde had not the slightest chance in tho world when the seventh round began. Ho could not lift his hands to strike a blow, and hardly _ knew where Villa danced round him, trying to bring him down. The referee hovered in indecision as the crowd stood up and shouted "Stop it! Stop it!" Then came the knockout. Jimmy Wilde is through with championships, but in America we shall long remember him as the ganiest little white man we have ever seen.