THE YELLOW STREAK.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XX, Issue 1113, 10 August 1911, Page 9

THE YELLOW STREAK.

BOXERS WHO HAVE BEEN ACCUSED OF QUITTING. “STAGE FRIGHT” OFTEN RESPONSIBLE. The so-called “yellow streak” as shown, or said to have been shown, by certain exponents of the art pugilistic past and present, has always been a difficult thing for the sharpest experts to define exactly. Some fighters apparently suffer spasms of agony while waiting for the clang of the bell which is to start the ball rolling, and actually quiver with nervousness in their corners, but as soon as a couple of punches are exchanged the nervous one regains his mental poise and battles like a hero- Such a man can hardly be termed a coward, or “yellow,” to speak in the accepted sporting parlance, but if he should chance to be hit on the jaw before he obtain control of himself and gio down to swift defeat, he would have a tough time of it trying to explain his supposed faintheartedness to his backers on the grounds of temperamental peculiarities. Yet, as every follower of the fistic game knows, an acute attack of what may be called “stage fright” has been responsible for the downfall of many a good boxer. Steve O’Donnell, the Australian heavyweight, who journeyed to America in 1894, was a striking example of a powerful, agile athlete who was never able to get over the strange fear which often besets a novice when facing a crowd. O’Donnell was the ideal build for a fighter, tall, well put together, possessed of a long reach, and a great deal of boxing cleverness acquired at the hands of no less a capable demonstrator of glove-wielding than Peter Jackson. He was, in fact, Jackson’s favourite pupil, and the giant black, himself one of the cleverest men that ever performed, believed that O’Donnell was destined to occupy a high niche in the world of pugilism. In the gymnasium Steve was a terror. He could hit like a triphammer and box with dazzling speed. But when he entered a ring and was up against the real thing he was a different man altogether. He seemed for the nonce to have lost all judgment of distance, blocked badly and acted in general as though he were hypnotised. This was only for a minute or two, however. If he managed to stall through the first round he suddenly “found himself,” and fought with admirable coolness and precision. Fortune favoured O’Donnell at first, and this peculiar weakness of his was not widely known. He whipped a few second and third-raters, and his backers deemed him ripe for a killing. So they picked out Peter Maher as an opponent for him, and that was the beginning of the end of poor Steve O’Donnell. Maher was then at his best, a rough slugger possessed of a terrific punch and noted as a quick finisher. The pair came together at Coney Island in 1896. O’Donnell suffered from his usual attack of “nerves” and before he got over it the big Irishman’s fist collided with his jowl and it was “curtains” for Steve. People said it was a fluke and they were matched again, this time at Philadelphia. O’Donnell was floored three times in the initial round, but Maher could not place his right fist on the proper spot, and the bell found the Australian lying on the canvas but still conscious. He was taken to his corner, vigorously fanned and sent up to face his foe. With his brain still doing rag-time whirls from the wallops he had received he proved an easy victim, and Maher sent him down and out in a hurry. A third meeting between the men before a New York club resulted in another knockout of the luckless boxer from the antipodes in something like 40 seconds. That finished O’Donnell’s career as a scrapper. Nobody had any more faith in him, and he quit the ring to take up the business of a boxing instructor at which he is said to have prospered. THE CASE OF YOUNG CORBETT. Young Corbett, the first conqueror of Terry McGovern during his palmy days as a lightweight, showed that he was possessed of great gameness, and won battles after receiving heavy punishment in a manner which proved him to be a regular Spartan under fire. Although beaten in both of his contests with Battling Nelson

he never flinched during the vindictive mauling he sustained at the hands of the furious Dane, and defeat did not mar his reputation for being able to stand the gaff. Yet in the early part of fiis career Corbett was more than once accused of quitting to save his bacon. Benny Yanger stopped him at Denver in eight rounds, and it was maintained by witnesses of the affair that Corbett deliberately “chucked it” in order to escape further battering. During the following year (1901) Kid Broad put him down for the full count in four rounds. This scrap also took place in Denver and Corbett’s townies guyed him unmercifully, asserting that he had quit. But a few months later he met Broad again and beat him handily in 10 rounds. He then tackled George Dixon and defeated the great little negro, getting the verdict in 10 rounds. Three months later he achieved his famous victory over McGovern, and from then on Corbett never gave his critics any reason to complain of his lack of pluck. Corbett’s case would seem to indicate that there is such a thing as a fighter gaining confidence in himself to such a degree that the spirit of fear departs from him entirely, leaving a thoroughly game man in the shoes of an unreliable one. JOHNSON AND LANGFORD. There is no doubt whatever that the late Stanley Ketchel believed that Jack Johnson possessed the “yellow streak” until he went against the big negro and was knocked cold. A good many others shared the same belief, but the opinion has not had many supporters since the Reno disaster. There are exceptions to this, however, especially in Sam Langford’s case, Langford has repeatedly insisted that Johnson is deeply tinted with the orange shade, and therefore, afraid to meet him in the ring. Yet oddly enough Langford, prior to the Reno affair, always barred Jeffries in his challenges to the heavy brigade, thereby showing that he nursed certain little nervous qualms of his own regarding the man of whom Johnson had no fear whatever. It has frequently been asserted that Langford is not the gamest person in the world and will not stand the stress of a protracted struggle without losing heart- But this has yet to be proved. As a general thing Samuel drops his man in short order and there is no good reason for believing that he cannot go a distance. That Kaufman adherents aver that Langford is afraid of the former, and it is on record that Sam and his manager side-stepped big Al. in that Philadelphia affair, also that they have shown no great eagerness to come to terms with Kaufman since. But so far there is no real proof that Langford lacks heart, although the suspicion remains in some folk’s minds. JOE WALCOTT A QUITTER. As regards coloured boxers, some of the best of them are subject to a sort of hoodoo idea which often tends to make them weak-kneed with regard to certain opponents. For instance, Joe Walcott, although ordinarily able to take a fierce punishing and come grinning up for more, quit deliberately in 12 rounds with Kid Lavigne in 1897. The memory of his first encounter with Kid two years before, in which Lavigne was made the recipient of an awful beating during the early stages of the battle, but stuck it out 'and had Joe tin-canning around the ring at the finish, was still fresh in his mind. Walcott accordingly suffered from nervous prostration, if you want to call it that, and went to the bad. Another of Joe’s evil geniuses was Frank Childs, the coloured Chicago heavyweight. The latter always believed that he could whip Walcott, and for years Sam Summerfield, manager of Childs, pursued Walcott with challenges for a match. Walcott refused the most tempting propositions to cross arms with his dusky brother, and Summerfield didn’t land him until 1902, when he signed the men for a bout in Chicago. Walcott got a right wallop in the wind early in the battle. It doubled him up into a knot and took whatever heart he had left out of him. In the third round he was beautifully laced and refused to come up for the fourth, stating that he had hurt his arm and could not continue. Childs was declared the winner and everyone present said it was a clear, cold case of quit. Nor could Walcott ever be coaxed into a ring with Childs again-