TUNNEY’S STORY.

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXIII, 29 December 1926, Page 4

TUNNEY’S STORY.

CHAMPION RELATES HOW HE WON.

Gene Tunney, the heavyweight champion, boxey relates how he won the crown from Jack Dempsey: I was first in the ring. I got quite a hand, and recognised a few of my sports writer friends and others near my corner. Dempsey followed, 1 imagine, about four or five minutes later. We had been given as many rolls of gauze as we wanted and a yard of white, adhesive tape. While I was taping my hands, I kidded the life out af«Philadelphia Jack O’Brien, one of Dempsey’s handlers, and also ono of the craftiest and most able boxers of the last era, I would make believe that I wanted to hide my hands while taping them, and I had Philadelphia .Tack bobbing to one side and the other. Finally, I made as though to pull something illegal in the way of hand furnishings from beneath my bathrobe. Jack was muttering to himself by now. Then I said: “O’Brien, whom are you with? Are you in my corner to-night?’’

O'Brien looked at me in amazement. I presume he believed the airplane trip had made me a bit "goofy.” He replied: “Oh, er—well, I’m with the champion.”

“There'll be a new champion tomorrow,” I told him. Then I continued: “Jack, do you think I am clever with these bandages?” and he was trying to keep track of what I was doing to my hands. “Yes,” he admitted. “It's all in practice,” I observed.

In my next article I will tell you of the fight. We met. Jack Dempsey and myself—he the. champion and I the challenger.—beneath the thirty-six Kleig lights. About us was gathered the mightiest concourse of sporting fans ever congregated. We had our bathrobes on, and the extended his hand, saying: “How are you, Gene?” “Very well indeed, Jack,” I replied. During the period Dempsey was taping his hands, he had been working his face into the scowl that had struck terror into many pugilistic hearts. Usually Dempsey never looks at an opponent once he has entered the ring. This time, however, he glanced up hastily, scowling over at me. I, who look at an opponent or not, just as it suits my fancy, met the scowl with a smile. I tried hard to make it Took like a winning smile. ' Then we were brought together for instructions. As we left to go to our corner, preparatory to hearing the opening gong, I said: “May thfe better man win, Jack.”

This drew no answer from the champion, who looked like a lithe, brown greyhound. He had white on his eyebrows to protect his vision from the glaring lights overhead. I forgot now all about crowds, trainers, money, everything but the business in hand.

During the action of a fight, one does not think of much other than how, when and where to hit, and often these things are reflex actions rather than conscious thoughts. It is during the intermissions of one minute each that a boxer thinks of various matters other than the art of swat. DEMPSEY IN HURRY.

At the bgll the bronzed champion, bent over in almost a full crouch, rushed me into a corner, and I missed with that short right. Dempsey then rushed into a clinch, and we broke and Jack came on again with a left tb the body. I countered with a left to'the head, and a right to the body. Dempsey was trying to hurry matters, but seemed to be tangled.

The champion, frowning and serious rushed again. This time I stopped him from clinching. On li is next rush I piit in the sock which I believo definitely turned, "the. fight in my direction. I- put./a. hard, short right to his jaw. It was-’almost an uppercut. it seemed .-to root Jack to the spot. Only a real champion could have taken that blow and not sink. 1 don’t think anyone ever could “take them” like Dempsey. . '

Dempsey, now stung, tried to slug. I out Slugged him. He tried to box, J. outboxed him. I hooked up Heilipsey’s peculiar shell, out of which lie always ils apt to rise and slap anybody to sleep, and after I had opened ft, J. began to punch The champion across tho head. I am told it is the first time Dempsey ever broke ground for anyone. But he was breaking it in front of my attack. Tho fight is' history now. I will not boro you by going into every blow and every round. I knew as I sac. perfectly fresh, in my corner after the first round that I would win. I had proved that I could hilt Dempsey and that I could hurt him. Anvono whom I can hiv and hurt I can defeat.

' “MY ONE MISTAKE.” The rain began ,to fail. It was to continue until late that night. I didn’t need it particularly, but the rain drops

were rather Soothing, and although it made our footing anything but secure, I rather enjoyed the experience. I iuust recount the fourth round, because in that round-tlio-“Manhssa Man Mauler” mado his one bid. He had been trying all his 'okl-time hip-hip-lmrrah tactips, -his half crouch-, his rush and his wallop, but he now was getting mighty puzzle dand hits face was beginning to be braised no little. For a moment in

that fourth things looked a bit bad for the Ttiunej’ elan. Dempsey had rushed in for a left to tho body. He gave mo all ho had in the body, but this was not bothering me. I was in the pink of condition, and could have withstood a blacksmith and a sledgo, I really believe. Jack put a left to the face, and I gave him a solid uppercut'to the jaw. Jack’s right eye was bleeding profusely by now from a cut. Then I though I would try a right to the body. It was my one mistake of the fight. Nobody gets to Jack’s body with rights, as a rule, and stays on his fe?t; But I-tried, and in the wink of an ey 3 Dempsey had uncorked liin famous left ' liook. It missed the "button” and landed on my larynx. Well. I was gather dizzy from this, asfit ; alb but paralysed my throat. I. whs hoarse for a week afterwards front tlie effects of. that mighty wallop, f half leaned oh the ropes nhd then! cleared my head. Wow! That was a blow ■'that must have shook the ring itself." Then I came right back and hammered the champion as 1 willed. I. failed to knock this remarkable man out in "file ten rounds we were scheduled to go, but I want to tell you that: lie was a champion, every ilnch of him. 1 However, I believe, I could have dropped him in another two or three rounds. . i They tell me Jack was sobbing as he left ■•the ring. We shook hands and there was quite a scene enacted in that water-logged ring as my friends' clambered through the ropes. I am informed that Jack all but collapsed in his dressing room. His face was a dreadful sight lo see. and was puffed and blue and cut. But, be it ever to 3 1 is credit, he refused to shroud that fighting head with a towel, but with his battered countenance bare, be walked proudly back to his room, still a, champion in his heart, and he always will be. | So, Gene Tiumey, coming from an unknown position in Greenwich Vil-j logo and Tfranee, and going into tho, ring on the short end of odds of ,‘J to 1, and sometimes 4 (o 1. now was! lwjsyjfWlAtk .«hajuj|iga.'world. .