ONLY ONE QUALITY WORTH HERO WORSHIP, SAYS TUNNEY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18959, 4 January 1930, Page 27 (Supplement)

ONLY ONE QUALITY WORTH HERO WORSHIP, SAYS TUNNEY.

Champion Denies Deserting Friends After Winning Heavyweight Title.

(By GENE TUNNEY, in an interview with BURRIS JENKINS).

Priest, poet, politician, pugilist or philosopher? Who knows? For Tunney will not stop with a mere prize fighter's reputation. Such an inward fire of ambition, a fermenting “divine discontent,'' such admirable egoism, must always push on and be into things, Tunney's own statement to the contrary notwithstanding. “You once quoted me,” Tunney said when I called on him in his New York apartment, “as saying, ‘When I am through with boxing I want to crawl off w here no one will ever mention the name of Gene Tunney!’ Well, that is as true to-dav as it was then.” But without questioning Tunney’s veracity, it is my opinion that it is not true. Tunney" is certainly tired and mistrustful of fickle and cheajj notoriety, but he will never tire of accomplishment. “Haven’t you any plans for the years after you’re through, with the ring?” To which question Tunney looked up from the book he was then readingholy smoke, it was a dictionary!—and became evasive, as he can be, as perhaps he always is,. who knows ? “Wasn’t it enough of a job for a man to look after his money and not to let the wolves and vultures get at it ? he laughed. “No, I actually haven’t any definite plans. Probably some line of business —the usual kind. One thing I will not do is to blossom into a Thespian. Poor Jack Dempsey! What boobs and saps boxers make of themselves treading the histrionic boards! No Writing Career. “Will I try to write? Never. Why should I inflict on the public my puerile cogitations? There are enough halfbaked writers. No personal reference, I assure you.’’

But what might be a secret ambition manifested itself in a previous conversation when Gene burst out in explosive enthusiasm. “Some day I will write that! I will write that story as it should be written! ” It would not be accurate to say that Tunnev is a fountain of wisdom, dazzling his auditors with intellectual acumen. Gene himself is far from believing this. “Don’t ask me any more about this Shakespeare business,” he answered rather shortly once. And continued in explanation. “Oh, all this talk about my reading and Shakespearean knowledge is misleading. Why, I don’t read as much as you do. Just because I’m a pugilist, they think it astounding that I can read my name. But where would I rank as a scholar if I were not a fight champion? No, it doesn’t sound right to make me out a scholar when I’m a fighter. That's my profession and that’s what I am _ So let’s say no more about my reading.** * Perhaps Gene himseu knows inat his judgments are often groping and

struggling, his opinions sometimes prejudiced. But he’s trying, always trying, with a determination equal to that which won him the title, to improve his mind and himself. What his object is or his reasons for such development no one knows for certain. “There’s only one quality worth heroworship,” Tunney asserted in the course of a discussion of the fickleness and uncertainty of the public, “and that quality is character. Why the public picks out us pugilists to worship is ridiculous. They don’t crowd to see us because of our characters or intellects. The heroes who should be worshipped can walk unnoticed down a street w r hile they flock in swarms to gaze curiously at a man who can take a stick of wood and knock a ball further than anybody else, or can pummel with his fists better than other men.

“The only thing that counts is character. The men I admire are the men who have themselves the nearest under complete control.” Whether Tunney is sincere in this sort of thing or is kidding himself or his public, is also impossible to know. His manner is sincere enough. But there is always an undercurrent of suspicion in Tunney’s eye, for which he can hardly be blamed. He has learned bitterly how rarely friends and wellwishers can be trusted.

Tunney is somewhat bitter, too, at the shift of his popularity after becoming champion. He realises that this is a customary phenomenon, but he apparently regrets it just the same. He explains it this way: “Only two things affect the public—pity and envy. The young newcomer timidly entering the throne-room of the champion is an object of pity to the public. They cheer him and hiss the envied champion. When the tables are turned they hiss the new champion, now an object of envy, and pity the fallen hero. Well, no man with self-respect would want to be pitied, would he? It is much more admirable to be envied—even if it includes hissing. “There are other reasons probably,” Gene continued, his voice sometimes rising as it has a habit of doing w'hen he gets excited, until it boomed through the dining-room, w’hile hero-worship-pers scattered round at other tables hung' on his words. “Besides that large body of fight followers that think anyone who reads a book must wear lace on their underclothes, there are some who feel that I deserted my former friends after I became champion. That I have put on the so-called high hat and walked out on my less fortunate companions to make friends among the 4 wealthy society * people. Nothing could be farther from the fact. “ I can truthfully say that I have not made a single friend since I have become champion. I hold friendship highly, naturally. But by that I mean real friendship, the kind that cares not whether you are in a palace or a gutter. I’ll admit that most of the few real

friends I have are those made during or immediately after the war. And my friendship with them has not varied or changed an iota with the heavyweight title and my comparative affluence.

“ Various flattering acquaintances—and their names are legion—and parasitic hangers-on always flock dotingly to you when you get money or a little fame. I try to be as pleasant with them as possible. But I am not unaware that they wouldn’t care a bit if I died to-morrow. They haven’t the slightest interest, really, in anything but what they can get of reflected glory or self-aggrandizement.’’ These “big words” attributed to Tunney are no exaggeration. They are as accurate as can be remembered. They are no pose with him—that is, no more of a pose than in the case of any young scholar trying to speak the best English at his command. Their use does not always come easily. When Gene gets warmed up to his grammar, he is sometimes compelled to go into a clinch with the word he wants for a second or so before he remembers it. When discussing ordinary events or anecdotes his conversation runs fast. But on the “ heavy ” subjects Gene goes slow and sometimes confuses his point while hunting out his jaw-break-ers. Not always are these words accurately used. Our conversation veered round to modern methods of training. “ They tell me,” said the champion,

“ that we of to-day take things too easy in tuning up for a championship bout. They say that our methods are crude compared to the past and that the results obtained are below par.

“ I disagree with that statement. We train just as hard as the boys of twenty or thirty years ago did, but in a more scientific, healthful way. It must be remembered that most of our predecessors, champions and challengers alike, lived a different life than we do.

“ The average fighter of to-day does not spend his time in the back room of a saloon, nor does he spend his money on wine or women. Boxing has been commercialised and as a result the routine of a fighter’s life has changed accordingly, for he is eager to make hay while the sun shines. “In the old days a fellow had to prepare differently from to-day. The bruiser of the past is gone. The development of scientific boxing has altered things and has necessitated a different kind of training from that which the boys of thirty years ago followed. Ours is the better way and brings better results.

“ One of the greatest changes in the training period is that relative to running and walking. The old-timers believed that a fellow could not be properly conditioned unless he spent the greater part of his day on the road. I am a firm believer in road running, but not as practised in the old days. “ To-day a fighter does not need that kind of rough w’ork, he takes a better care of himself daily. He does not have to get rid of so much surplus fat, nor is there any need to cleanse his system from the alcohol the old-timers imbibed. Our environment is better. That is the reason for. the change in our training system. “ A little road running of about ten miles a few times a week, plenty of walking and proper exercise followed by the usual gymnasium workout gets a fellow nowadays in fit condition.”