BOXING

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17526, 1 May 1925, Page 11

BOXING

| NOTES AND COMMENTS BY “ CESTUS.” M s M B

It is stated that contestants at the recent ’Varsity championships were not greatly impressed at the manner in which some of the bouts were handled by the responsible official. The Wellington Association is endeavouring to arrange a match between Purdy and Trowern for June, the winner to be matched a rrfpnth later aghinst Les Murray for the lightweight championship. Failing to get mate-lies in Australia Hughie Dwyer has come to New Zealand. His first match will be at Napier against Eddie Parker. The Northern Association has written to. Australia for an opponent for Purdy, and mentions Godfrey, Spargo or Fairhall for preference. Neither of the first two is available, and Fairhall may not feel disposed to come, having good prospects of matches in Sydney.

At the Auckland Police Court on j April 27 charges of burglary were ! i heard against Daniel Flynn, also ! known as Mike Flynn. and Robert Heaton Munro. The charges against both conjointly involved goods valued at £1296, and against Munro of goods valued at £386. Police evidence was | to the effect that the assistance given bv Munro resulted in* the recovery of I hundreds of pounds worth of stolen I Goods. Munro-stated that Flynn had i been closely associated with him in all i j the crimes involved in the charges, j Both accused pleaded not guilty, and j were committed to the Supreme Court for trial, bail being fixed at £6OO each. Jim Petteneell. who was a prominent figure in the New Zealand ring some thirty odd years ago. recently died in Sydney of pneumonia. After his ring c areer had ended he fell upon evil j times. He became almost totally blind and eked out a living by 'selling j matches in the streets. Pettengell was [ born at Netiev. Hampshire, England, i on July 21, 1863, and stood about sft 9in and weighed about stone. He came to New Zealand. So far as my records shew he first fought in New Zealand, at Wellington, on November 17,. 1884, his opponent being Perry, who uas knocked out in the third round. From then on for about six y--ars he travelled all over New Zealand, meet- ‘ ing all comers, big and little, and ‘was I seldom defeated. Two men proved j more than his match, however. Dick Matthews and Harry Laing. Amongst the others that Pettcngell met were Ike Fake, Teague, Barney Donovan | (father of Harry Donovan, Charlie j Purdy's trainer) and Harry Dunn (the champion wrestler). PettengelTs last fight in New Zealand was against Dick Matthews, at Greymouth, on June 21, 1890. Matthews, who was an American, paid two visits to New Zealand. On the first he easily vanquished all opponents he met, and was regarded as champion. Going back to California, his native State, he first met Brady for the championship of the Pacific Slope, and the battle was the most sanguinary ever seen in the State. I Both men were terrific punchers and they fought in the skin gloves. The fight finished both of them, the fearful punishment they received affecting them mentally and physically. When Matthews returned to New Zealand he was but a shadow of his former stalwart manho.od nad was "easily beaten. Going to Sydney, Pettengtll had a number of. lights there, probably the best man he met being | Dummy Mace. j Grime was exceedingly lucky to i receive the decision he did in liis I championship light for the light-weight : tit.’o against Fairhall on Saturday night at Sydney Stadium (writes “Solar Plexus' ; in the “Referee” of April 22). Not because i consider Rmeree "Wallis gave a wrong verdict; but because' Fairhall entered the ring with an injured wrist, and was thereby precluded from puttin;; ti ii Ins weight behind that weapon, and using 't as frequently as he would hare lik° od. .fudging from the following cable message to Australian papers, the long association between Kearns and Dempsey- has been severed :—Before leaving on a Belated honeymoon, Jack Dampeey announced the end of his business partnership with Jack Kearns.' They jointly ov.-n £300,000 worth of Dos Angeles real estate, which will be sold during the next few months in order to divide the proceeds. Dempsey declared that he is unwilling to fight again under a contract which gi'ves Kearns an equal # share with himself. The recent Oollins-Godfrey fight at the Sydney Stadium attracted one of the largest attendances seen at the big building for a long time. The gate receipts totalled £2838, of which half went to Collins, the winner. Out of this, however, he had to pay Godfrey £BOO. as Godfrey would not agree to the match unless guaranteed that amount. The Stadium management refused his terms, but sooner than lose the 'match Collins agreed that the amount should be deducted from his share in the event of his winning. T"p and down our bodies runs a whole network of nerves which keen meet- ! ing and crossing in bunches—the technical name for on c of these “ junctions 55 being a plexus. The most important plexus of all ip the whole system lies just behind the stomach and in front of the huge blood vessel upon which chiefly depends the support of our entire body. And this bunefi, because from it radiates practically everything else rather like the rays from the sun. we call the solar plexus —“solar” meaning “pertaining to j the sun.” It is not muscle and it j is not a blood vessel, but it is our main nerve centre : indeed, it is often called the brain of the stomach. Any sudden disturbance of the solar plexus lias a paralysing effect upon the rest of the system. Thus in a boxing match, for instance, a blow upon the solar plexus results in such a disturbance to the whole system that the nerves cease to operate and. if the blow is sufficiently severe, the recipient i 3 “ knocked out.” “ Though I have earned 100,000 dol- : lars a minute in my fights,” said Demp- ! sey, “ the money lias been eaten up jin the training camps. The expenses | of a training camp are a lot more ■ than anybody thinks. You have to j | carry. a big- I-guess * if you ' i would say I have made net about | 300,000 dollars from the fight ‘ game j i alone, •you" would be hitting around the J j truth. "Where did the rest come ! from? Well, a big item is the mov- | ing pictures. My pictures are due ; i to gross more than a millon and a j half, and we get 60 per cent of it. ! Ar.d there’s the vaudeville. Five and ;

ten thousand dollars a week is big pocket money, believe me. But even outside of all that, we’ve made money. Kearns is a good business man. and he has taught me a lot about business. You want to know what we’ve done with it? Well, we’ve got most of it salted down pretty solid. 1 won’t be champion always. And when mv time comes to take the count. I w:\it to be something afterward besides an ‘ex.’ Kearns and I own a big hotel, the Santa Barbara, in Bos Angeles, and a big apartment house named the Wilshire. We own a lot of other real estate in ’Frisco and Oakland, and more in Salt Bake City, besides the home I bought for my mother. We’ve got three ranches, including several thousand acres of farmland. And sat, I guess you don’t know this—l’m the president of a coalmine !” A testimonial dinner given to Benny Beonard. the retired world’s lightweight champion, at the Hotel Astor, New York, on March 15 was attended by over one thousand persons, including distinguished men of affairs, society leaders, and outstanding representatives of the literary, theatrical and sporting world. It was the first time that a professional fighter had been so honoured. Leonard announced that he would henceforth devote himself lnrgely to developing and improving the physical fitness of the American people. “ For years it has been mv ambition to serve the public by passing on to them the methods I found most valuable in promoting my own physical development, in converting myself from a weak, unhealthy boy to* a world’s champion fighter,” Leonard said. “ I retired from the rintr two months ago for reasons that I believe are compelling and logical. 1 believe now as I did iShen. that I am right. I never expect to fight as a professional again. I feel that the work I am now going to devote myself to is bigger than defending the world’s championship. I have always wanted by years of experience in training myself and the time I spent in instructing our soldiers during the world to be of service in teaching the men and women of America correct methods of Keeping their minds and bodies sound and healthy. I am now going to have that opportunity. In order to put this ambition of mine in practical form, I have been for several years organising my ideas and working out a course iiN physical culture based on my experience. At last I have perfected it. For some time now a number of my friends have bee., training in their homes under iii* direction and the results have been very gratifying to me. Leading physical culture authorities have told me that my ideas are sound and effective and have encouraged me to take up this work in a big way. I am throwing myself into the work heart and soul, and its success means more to me than anything I have ever undertaken before.” DAYS OF SKIN TIGHT GLOVES. FIRST ADVANCE FROM BAREFIST PUGILISM. “ Skin-tight gloves were used by the fighters forty years ago to evade the la”v. as that kind of scrapping was considered less harmful,” said a veteran wielder of the mitts to the writer a short time ago, “but as a matter of fact much more damage was done with the thin gloves than with bare hands.” A clever man like Jack Dempsey could cut a lighter to pieces with the two-ounce mitts. Before gloves of that sort were worn, the old London rule lighters often grabbed a few blades of grass in their hands in order to have something which they could grasp when their hands were doubled up. They claimed they could hit harder. Jack Dempsey, the “Nonpareil,” was the kine of Skin-tight wielders. He was never whipped while he wore them, but when the big mitts became fashionable he was not such a master and was twice defeated. Fighting with skin-tight gloves was inaugurated about 1880. and was a fad fc.'r about ten years, and nearly all the lights in which these were used were in and about New York city. The promoters of tiles© encounters had to work under cover, and always knew the sports to whom they sold tickets in order to prevent interference by the police. The tickets on one occasion read this way : “A Grand Clog Dancing Match between Jack Dempsey and Billy .Dacey. Tickets, with all extras, 10.00 dols.” The date and the place of the mill were never given on the ticket. The promoter had a certain number of trusted ticket sellers who instructed their customers to meet them in some saloon or hotel on a.certain" night to get the tip. Then each ticket seller would get his party of twenty or thirty together and lead them quietly to the lodge room, barn or hall where the scrap was to bo pulled off. Sometimes the selected spot was right in the heart of the city. Clarendon Hall, iri Thirteenth Street, New York City, w^ s the favourite rendezvous for the old skintight glove fights. The hall was originally built for an insane asylum, and the walls were dead so that no r oiso could be. heard on the street. The lodge room on the top floor back was generally selected and the rumpus at the ringside never disturbed the neighbourhood. It was in this selected spot that Jack Dempsey and Jack Fogarty fought a desperate and bloody battle to the finish with skin-tight gloves on February 3, 1886. It was probably the hardest fight of Dempsey’s bril Fogarty was a, game, rugged fellow at tin- time and took a terrible beating before lie was conquered in the twenty-seventh round. The Philadelphia sports went broke on that mill, for they had taken the word of Arthur Chambers that Fogarty could lick the champion. Billy Myer and Jack M’Auliffe fought a sensational battle for the light-weight championship with ‘skintight gloves at North Judson, Jnd., on February 3, 1889. It was the west against the east ? and Mike M’Donald, of Chicago, was the referee. It was a bitter cold morning when they arrived at the then small village, with the. mercury about fifteen -above zero. The Streator (111.) gang, Myer’s supporters, was at the ringside armed with pistols and sawed-off guns ready to blow holes through a dozen easEe'-n sports who were gathered around M’Auliffe. The gang kept M’Auliffe and his

supporters walking the cold roads for two hours while Myor was in a comfortable bed in the hall where the fight was tc be held. The sheriff had been fixed and had left town to enjoy himself. only one hayseed constable being left to protect the. citizens from, the gang of cut-throats. Just before M’AuhftVj entered the ring be drank a glass of sherry and brandy. He had been without food for fifteen hours. When lie began to fight Jack acted as if he were drunk or doped, and he swore that be could see a dozen Myers dancing before him He. however, nailed the “ Streator Cyclone ” with a corking wallop on the left cheek in the second round, but the blow was too high to bring about . a knock-out. Still this one punch j probably saved Jack, for Myer kept at i long range- after that and let M’Auliff3 force the issue. Along about the twenty-fifth round, when M J Auliff© was himself again, he could see only one Billy Myer, and he went after that one hot-footed; but Myer did some lively sprinting and Jack gave up the chase in disgust. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars every time you lead to me, Mver,’’ said M’Auliffe, who wanted to end the fight quickly. Blit the “Cyclone” knew his business and said “ No.” Every time Jack got Billy near the ropes a hundred guns appeared ready for action, with the result that Jack had to back away or have his head blown off. The Streator gang had bet every button on Myer and didn’t intend to walk home. At last, in the sixty-third round, the referee said be would declare the fight a draw if Myer didn’t stand up and fight; and as Myer wouldn’t hear of such a thing, M’Donald ended the fight when the sixty-fourth round was over. While all this fight and fuss was going on upstairs some clever thieves had jimmied the safe in the bar-room downstairs and had run off with 8000 dollars in gate money. So Jack and Billy 4 hours 40 minutes for fun. Purses of 10.000 dollars were silly dreams in those days. The fighters of to-day have an easy time with the big mitts, limited round bouts and fat piirses. Many a skin-tight glove fighter fought to the finish for 200 dollars. M’Auliffe fought a fierce seventeen-round battle with Jack Hopper for that amount. He also fought Billy Frazier in Boston foe the lightweight title for the same amount, the battle lasting twenty-one rounds to a finish.