TEX RICKARD TELLS

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18736, 16 April 1929, Page 4

TEX RICKARD TELLS

High Bid Offered To Get , Jeffries-Johnson Fight.

STATE GOVERNOR REFUSED PERMISSION AFTER ALL ARRANGEMENTS WERE MADE.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY of Tex Rickard, millionaire, the world-famous boxing promoter and sportsman, who died a few weeks ago, presents a rich and romantic chronicle of hardship and adventure, of adversity, daring and success.

This is the only autobiography written by Tex Rickard. It was prepared in collaboration with Bozeman Bulger, for publication exclusively by the “Star” and the N.A.N.A. Shortly before Rickard’s death he discussed with Bulger plans for publication of these memoirs in book form. Following is the eighth instalment of the autobiography, which is appearing in daily chapters. By TEX RICKARD (In collaboration with Bozeman Bulger). Even after the Gans-Xelson fight at Goldfield I had no idea of ever getting into the game as a promoter. That, naturally, gave me a lot of publicity—unexpected publicity, as I have explained—and, to tell the truth, I was dragged into the game. There had been much talk in the newspapers about the many offers for the Jeffries-Johnson fight and' about the location. All the promoters, it seemed, were in a deadlock. Finally an artist on a San Francisco paper turned out a cartoon showing a big jackass braying and saying, “Where is Tex Rickard?” The intimation to me was plain. I got the idea that they thought me a sort of ‘jass—a fly-by-night fellow. It angered me. In fact, I took it as a challenge. I think I can safely say that but for that cartoon I should never have gone into fight-promoting as a business. I had to go to Duluth, Minn., to see Thomas F. Cole, a copper magnate, for whom 1 had been buying properties in Nevada. He is a prominent man in business affairs. “Tex,” he said to me, “why do you not go after this Jeffries-Johnson fight?” I was amazed at his interest. The fact of a man of his standing suggesting such a thing made me think. On the way back I went to Minneapolis to meet Mr Piper, another prominent business man. He asked me the same question. With these two suggestions on top of that jackass cartoon I got started on the trail. I went back to Nevada, though and kept quiet. A little later I packed up and started east without saying a word to anybody. It occurred to me that the only way to be sure of a fight was to nail one of the fighters first. That would be an ace in the hole. I felt, of course, tha Jeffries had l)een tied up in San Francisco by somebody—probably Sam Berger, his manager. That later proved to be correct. Anyway, I headed for Chicago, looking for Jack Johnson. I found that he was in Pittsburgh. I went there and found him. We talked for some time and I learned that Johnson, as usual, was badly in need of money. Negotiations Opened. “Mr Tex,” he said to me. “I am go-

ing to tell you something—they almost got that thing fixed up. None of them are helping me, though, and I’m telling you I need help.” “How much do you need?”

‘‘Boss, if I could get hold of 2500 dollars it w r ould help a great deal. I would like to fight for you.” “I think I can arrange that,” I told him, and I took the money out of my pocket. I had taken care to go loaded with plenty of New York exchange cheques. 1 told him that if he would agree to fight for me I would be glad to -help him. “Yes, sir, I will, and I am going to tell you something. They are going to bid 100,000 dollars for the fight. Now, you put in a bid for 101,000 dollars and you w’ill get it, sure. “Yes, if you will agree to fight for me and me only,” I reminded him. I then handed him the loan of 2500 dollars, which he agreed to pay back—and did. too. We started for New York on the same train and worked out an agreement which Johnson signed without hesitation. I now had my ace in hand. Whatever they did about Jeffries, I had Johnson sewed up. Nobody had any idea of such a contingency as this. I said nothing, though, and made Johnson promise to keep quiet until the right time. I slipped into New York quietly and thought nobody knew’ I was there. At the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel I ran into Vincent Treanor, a sporting writer. “ What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised. “ Oh, nothing, just looking about to see what is going on.” He darted out of the place and telephoned. That night the sporting pages carried a big headline announcing that I was in New York to get the fight. It was like a bombshell to the other promoters and Jeffries. Though I had not said so, the story was right in almost every detail. Next day I went about to get the la} r of the land. I found that a scheme had been formed by which Sam Berger. Jack Gleason and another man were to get in on the fight somehow. In fact, it had all been set. They were to bid 100,000 dollars and would get the fight, no matter what other offers came in. I always liked Jeffries and went to see him. They all treated me a little coldly, acting as if they did not want me about. They did not know I had Johnson sewed up and I did not tell them—for a while. Bonus to Men. In the meantime all kinds of offers were coming in. Finally I tipped my hand. They saw I had the ace. I agreed to bid 101,000 dollars and was to take Jack Gleason in as a compromise. Also I agreed to allow Jeffries a bonus of 10,000 dollars if he would sign. Incidentally to play fair, I told Johnson of this and agreed also to give him a bonus of 10,000 dollars. J’hat