A GOLD-RUSH IN BOXING RING

Manawatu Times, Volume LV, Issue 6841, 23 April 1932, Page 10

A GOLD-RUSH IN BOXING RING

Amusing Tales About Fights In Days Long Gone By, In America

B>] VERY time one of our diamond - studded maulers hangs up a demand for l SIOO,OOO or more for his services—quite a frequent s occurrence—l think of the J days when we were treated to hectic scraps, those of the hair-raising type, with the leaders of pugilism as the contestants, in which the fighters were often lucky when they got enough to pay for a week’s board. I like to think of one bout in particular, about 110 years ago, in which I officiated as'master of ceremonies, writes, in “The Ring,” Joe Humphries, widely-known boxing announcer and last manager of Terry McGovern. When the smoke of battle disappeared the fighters owed money to the promoter. Johnny Reagan, now one of the New York Slate Boxing Board’s deputy-com-missioners, but in his heyday one of America’s great fighters and leading promoters, the same Johnny who fought a sensational battle for the welterweight championship with Nonpareil Jack Dempsey at Sands Point, Long Island, 45 years ago, was one of the leading figures in this story. Johnny at the time was operating the Pelican Athletic Club in Brooklyn, and there he staged many great fights. On the occasion to which I refer, Reagan had two good negro scrappers billed for the headliner, Hughie McWinters and Ed Darrell, both lightweights, and I was selected to do the announcing. When the articles of agreement were to be signed, Reagan tried to give the boys a guarantee, but they turned that down. They thought they could do better by accepting a percentage, and, that being agreeable to Reagan, he told the boys he would give them 50 per cent, of the gate to be split between them any way they cared to. They accepted and decided to divide it on a 50-50 basis. But before Reagon would agree to their terms lie stipulated that each would have to pay over to him $25 to help defray the cxpeiises for the preliminary bouts, and they accepted that part of the agreement also. Ed and Hughie fought a slam-bang battle for 20 rounds. They were pretty evenly matched, and it was a toss-up ■ as to which had the better of the bargain. But after the fight the promoter ' handed both of them the most painful • sock they had felt during the whole when he slipped them the .' glad tidings that the total gate added '• up to $92. 1 '" "This; gave the two fighters 846 to '-■they had to pay Johnny Regan $25 .apiece for the appetiser. You won’t ■ have to hire a certified pubfic accountant to figure out that this left each . of them owing Johnny 82. The gladiators looked at each other, ' then at Reagan, and finally they came to the realisation that there was nothin the house for them. “Don’t we 'get nothin’?” piped up McWinters. ''“"“Yes, boys,” replied Reagan, “I’ll give you something that will keep you in *'fnind of this fight,” and with that, he .■•took the fighters into the box-office, dug into a drawer for a batch of unsold tickets, handed a bunch to each and said:— “There you are. I’m not going to tax you the extra 82 that you each owe me, but perhaps you’ll get someone to buy these from you. and then you can divide the purse.” Hughie arid Eddie each had something by which to remember that night! I wonder what some of the topnotchers of to-day would say if they had to go through such experience 1 Here’s another little laugh for you: another yarn of the old days. It’s the story of “Stocking” Conroy, a heavyweight, and Sam Harris, manager of Terry McGovern. Sam, who years ago was one of the leaders in the managerial field, matched Conroy with Bob Armstrong for a 20-round bout at the old Broadway Athletic Club. “Stocking” weighed more than Primo Camera, and had a figure like a load of hay. His stomach looked like a bay window, and it was that part of his anatomy that attracted Armstrong. Soon after the battle began, Bob started ' to play a tattoo on the paunch, and “Stocking,” with a look of anxiety and a gasp 'every time a punch landed, sought relief by holding his man for dear life. When things looked dark for him, Harris yelled across the ring: “Grab him. Hold on. Cover up,” and “Stocking” did. At this point, one of the spectators, about 20 feet back from the ring, jumped from his seat, and with a terrible yell, threw up his hands and flopped. Everybody got up to see what had happened, because the yell was

the weirdest thing you ever heard, and if was found that the poor fellow had died. When he heard the noise, Conroy let go of Armstrong and walked over to the ropes. Pointing in the general direction of the dead man, “Stocking,” thinking the poor chap was abusing him, pointed his linger in the direction of the fellow, and dared him to come forward and fight. "Shut up, you fool,” said Sam Harris,'“the man just died.” “I don’t care if he did,” complained “Stocking.” “He’s got no business abusing me like that!” And here’s another: One night about 38 years ago* Jim Watts, a coloured pug from Louisville, was matched with Tommy West, tho light-heavyweight. This pair furnished the headline attraction at Maspetli, Long Island. The tight was held in a dance pavillion, and as it was a bitterly cold night, the place was more or less heated by stoves. There wasn’t §6OO in the house, and the fighters demanded their guarantee of §SOO before they, would enter the ring. Being the announcer, I was delegated to appeal to the customers, explaining that §2OO was needed before the boys would begin to fight. By passing around the hat, we collected 8230 in about 15 minutes, and the boys went on. Watts had a large mouthful of glittering gold teeth, of which he was very proud. In the course of the fight, West knocked out Jim with a blow to the mouth which sent the golden teeth flying all over the ring in full view of the spectators. While Watts’s handlers were trying to coax the coloured boy back to consciousness, a number of fans clambered into the ring and scrambled for the gold teeth. When Jim came to, he became panicstricken upon finding his cherished ornaments missing. “Where am mah teeths?” he inquired. “They’re gone, Jim. You lost them in the fight and the fans made a scramble for them,” said his manager. “Dey has, has dey? Ah gits mah teeths'back or dor’ll be a dead manager in dis ring,” he fairly shrieked. It was with difficulty that the gold teeth were recovered. It was the only time in my long career that I’ve seen a gold rush in the ring.