AMOOSIN' AMERICANS.

NZ Truth, Issue 507, 6 March 1915, Page 10

AMOOSIN' AMERICANS.

Coffey and Jones Treated as a Joke. ! Bad Matching ahd the Result. "Boxer-Major." as "Truth's" Sydney ring-side representative, does not waste words m sizing-up that awful frost, the Jimmy Coffey and Frankie Jones scrap at the Sydney Stadium on Saturday night week. He writes: "A match well made is a match half won," Is an old English aphorism that will hold good as long, as matches are made, m any branch of sport. But there is another way of taking the first part of the words, name«y the point of view of the promoters and the : financial side of the interests of the ! boxers; and that was either sadly misjudged or entirely .overlooked when the latest match at the Rushcutter Bay Stadium was decided upon. It was one between two of our more recent visitors from the United States of America, and it was about as bad a piece of matchmaking as could have been devised if those responsible had tried to : exemplify "how not to do it." And meanwhile local men who could whip either of tho pair easily, eat their hearts out m poverty, or are offered the bare bone of a 6 rounds preliminary. Of course the lads had to fight whoever was put against them, they had no 'option. It is not. nowadays, "Win you fight Jobklns?" but a terse, "I've matched ypu against Jobklns for the blankth of Novtober. See you get fit and lick him." That's all the option, these two young boxers had m the mattci. They came from different "stables," and that is all that can be said ror a system of bringing fellow-countrymen from abroad together while there are plenty of good Australian boxers from whom an opponent for each of last night's pair could have been selected. Jimmy Coffey is the gentlemanly Mohawk Red Indian; from New York, whom Al Lippe brought back, along with that grand fighter, Frank Loughrey, on his return from that flying visit to New York at the end of last year. He had the misfortune to lose his flrst ln Sydney, being outpointed by Fred Kay, at the Stadium on November 21 laat: but he showed rattling good form against the great left-hander and had bad luck to meet so awkward, tall, and unorthodox a performer m his Initial performance undor the Southern Cross. He redeemed this defeat by outpointing Fernand Quendrcux, the smashing Frenchman, at Brisbane, on January 16, m a way that won him' unstinted admiration. Frankie Jones —why that effeminate, babyish Frankie, God knows. There are those who arc trying to "Frankio" that sturdy, manly little fellow, Frank Ellis, the New Zealand feather, who has been so persistently and pointedly left out of it, of late, much to the disgust of him and his friends —ls one of Moose Taussig's team of Californians, tho other being Eddie Miller; and he also has placed Quendreux's scalp m his belt by a victory on points m Brisbane. From an American point of view lt was a bad match, for whichever lost : would have his drawing value badly > discounted, ln a strange country and • far from home, at tho hands of a visitor ; m tho same position as himself —try T i ing to make good m the alien sphere. Feeling this, both lads trained carofully, ' each determined not to be the unfor- ; tunate loser, and they entered the ring . well prepared for a tough struggle. As was prognosticated from the rao- , inent the match was announced, tho attendance was poor, but not so bad as ; most people anticipated. Still, neither • Al Lippe or Moose Taussig is likely to go gay and buy a motor car with what i thoy maae out of it, nor Coffey and i Jones to send home a big draft to their credit at the bank. During the Interval Henri Demlen, i the Belgian welter-weight, was intro-

duced, and m view of his nationality was received with magnificent applause. Anyhow the fight was a duffer and the crowd began to melt away, even as early as the end of the third round; men leaving m twos and threes, and finally m dozens, before the tenth was reached. This was unprecedented, and spoke plainer than words of the poor quality of the entertainment. In the fifth round Coffey's cranium cracked against Jonesy's left eye and cut it pretty badly. Frank protested angri'y and did so several times later for the same reason, two or three times being reprimanded by the referee. Yet, when ono watched carefully, the cause of these accidents became apparent. They were almost invariably the result of the Californian's own carelessness m the carriage of his cranium; body straight erect and nadget slightly drooped over the left shoulder, just where it was most likely to collide with the Mohawk's when it came fast into a clinch. Scarcely ever was Jones's head movement towards the right .when Jimmy's followed his right swing into holds. The crowd got much more amusing than the fight, and when m the tenth, a lot of the terraceites began to raise hideous yells, supposed to be the Mohawk war cry, the rest of the house rocked with laughter. Even Coffey had to grin, while his seconds fairly shook with unrestraining mirth. Still the tone of the crowd got more and more Sarcastic and countlngs-out were frequent, until, nearing the finish, this got stale, and, after a few had lugubriously droned "Home, Sweet Home," a big lot roared "This is the Life for Me." Then "Tipperary" was fairly, thundered forth; and just before the end, nearly everybody was roaring. "God Save the King" m a really fine outburst of song. The moment the verse ceased, as with one accord, the terraces set up three cheers, with tremendous vigor and heart. It was really fine, per. se.; but it must have bitten into the very hearts of tho boxers. During the last round, knowing he was "down the course" as far as points went, Jones made a.ludicrous attempt to win by a knock-out. His rushes and over-arm-bowler's swings, skyscrapers, haymakers, what you ■will, were funnier than a rich auntie's funeral; and even Coffey himself, forced Into continual retreat for more than half the round, was laughing heartily all the time, though he scored points by an occa-;| sional clean hit and evasion. Then, as soon as "Frankie" .tired off, Coffey sailed m .and banged the dust out of him j like beating an old carpet. Harald I Baker instantly placed his hand on the ! Redman's black bottlebrush nadget, and the weary thing was over.