The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET AUCKLAND SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1930. A LAST WORD

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1082, 20 September 1930, Page 8

The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET AUCKLAND SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1930. A LAST WORD

AS announced on the front page, this will be the last issue of The Sun in Auckland as a separate newspaper. From Monday next, it will he' incorporated in the “Auckland Star,” the proprietors of our contemporary having purchased our interests in the evening paper field in Auckland. Naturally, we regret losing our identity, and we think our regrets will be shared by many others. Established nearly three and a-lialf years ago, The Sun soon gained a wide popularity, and made many friends. Citizens quickly realised that it was for the good of Auckland that there should be another medium for the expression of public opinion, which, for so many years, had been confined to only two daily newspaper channels. Our advent also introduced an element of competition which resulted in the production of better newspapers, and gave greater service to advertisers. A large circulation was soon secured, and the business houses gave us a moderate amount of support in the matter of advertising. It was our bad luck that the venture should have been launched during a period of deflation. For the past three years values have been steadily readjusting themselves, in conformity with the iron law of supply and demand. There was little, therefore, to induce business men to incur fresh commitments in respect of newspaper publicity. In spite of adverse conditions The Sun made considerable headway. With the crash in America in October it was not long before the depression in New Zealand became accentuated, and in the last six months the slump has assumed the proportions of a national problem, concerning which no one can see daylight ahead. Having regard to all the circumstances, the directors of The Sun., agreed to entertain proposals which were independently initiated, for the sale of their assets in Auckland to New Zealand Newspapers, Ltd. The deal was finalised on Wednesday. The details do not particularly concern the public, hut we desire to say that New Zealand Newspapers, Ltd., have met us fairly, and that the transaction is an equitable adj\istment of the position as it stands today. Had our operations in Auckland coincided with a period of expansion and development, there is no question that The Sun today would have been a commercial as well as a journalistic success. As it is, we are compelled to take leave of our readers, whom we desire to thank for their support, and for the many tokens of their appreciation of the paper we gave them. We think The Sun did some good for Auckland during its career, and as it dips below the horizon, we hope citizens will remember that it shed a cheery light while it lasted. May it continue to shine on from a star which lias now become one of the first magnitude.

BUDGETING FOR SPORT

SIR THOMAS LIPTON’S remark that future contests for the America’s Cup must be contests between syndicate and syndicate reflects the spirit of the age—an age in which vast sums are being expended on sport, until the business of budgeting for international sporting- events is one in which tremendous sums are dealt with.

Today yachting, like other sports conducted on an international scale, demands almost unlimited expenditure. When the British polo team crossed the Atlantic recently to do battle with the Americans on their native heath they took with them 80 ponies. Those ponies were specially-bred animals, some of them brought from as far away as India, and they were accompanied oil the trip across the Atlantic, when they were looked after with loving care, by a special corps of grooms largely composed of Oxford and Cambridge undergraduates seizing the opportunity to spend a profitable holiday. Polo is probably the world’s most expensive game,-in ratio to the number of persons who play it. When eight liard-riding equestrians take the field in an international event, there lias to be a fortune at the back of each of the keen-eyed and well-mounted athletes.

Polo and yachting have a comparatively limited appeal. But the trend is just as plainly demonstrated in the games that appeal to the masses. People who control prize-fights, cricket matches, tennis, golf and football deal in vast sums of money. For prize-fights, since the war, enormous stadiums have been built. The great arena at Soldiers’ Field, Chicago, is a permanent memorial to the readiness of people to pay to see one man batter another. The huge bowl of Wembley Stadium, outside London, holds 1-00.000 at each “cup final” of the English Football Association. Murrayfield, the Rugby Union ground near Edinburgh, is packed with 80,000 people when Scotland meets England for the Calcutta Cup. The multitudes which gather on such occasions provide the funds with which sport is administered on an almost regal scale. At one time travelling athletes or touring teams were content with second or third-class accommodation on railways and steamers, and did not sigh for first-class hotels. There is an interesting contrast in the manner in which Stoddart’s original British football team toured New Zealand, and the elaborate arrangements made for the British team of 1930. Arrangements for Stoddart’s team were made almost from day to day. They paid their way from gate-money as they went, and on one trip across Cook Strait most of them slept on the deck of the ferry because they were unable to get other accommodation. Any Rugby team, cricket team, or band of athletes which travels abroad today expects the best of everything, and perhaps rightly so, as the “gates” they draw should by all means provide money for them to travel in comfort.

The point over which thoughtful people may hesitate is the destination to which all this prodigal expenditure on sport will ultimately lead us. If the tendencies of the last few years are maintained, the next few years will see the. interests of the nations subordinated more and more to sport. If not, will there be a reaction? Will people tire of the glamour of parades and spectacles, of gladiatorial contests, and the exaltation of athletes to a pitch near to idolatry? The alternative may he a return to the simpler diversions of other days, to fishing, perhaps, or cricket on the village green. Yet, even these pursuits are in danger of being glorified. The man who formerly watched a Rugby match between rural fifteens will now stay at home to listen-in to a Test match. The man who can cast a fly a prodigious distance will ultimately he drawn by the magnet of competition, and he induced to perform in a fly-casting contest, before a gallery of onlookers.

The essential motives of sport remain. People still turn to it primarily foi- recreation and diversion; but it is doubtful if the old order will ever be renewed. Sportsmen of international standing are fated to attract the spotlight of the world’s attention. If idealists feel that this state of affairs mirrors the declining intelligence of the races of the world, there is at least this much materia] consolation —that sport in days of depression keeps money circulating as few other things appear to do. If nobobdy else can make money, Bradman can. If no other organisations can erect huge buildings, the sports bodies can do so. If others cannot travel in state, the athletes certainly must. This may be an ironic reflection for the humble citizens who make up the crowds and contribute the funds, but in heat of vicarious combat they quite cheerfully forget all about it.