THE CLUBMAN.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1144, 14 March 1912, Page 6

THE CLUBMAN.

The South Pole has been won. Britain equipped, at the cost of about £30,000, the Scott expedition to explore the fastnesses of the Antarctic for the purpose of discovering the Pole. For weeks Captain Scott and his elabor-ately-fitted vessel attracted much admiration; his party were nearly swamped with sloppy sentimentality, while the gallant captain himself was idolised by a world of namby-pamby hero-worshippers. The departure of the Scott expedition to Atlantica was the signal for blatant enthusiasm throughout the great British Empire (on which the sun always shines).

While all this demonstration was being made over the British expedition a modest Norseman, without the taint of “la gloire,” sailed quietly out of the haunts of civilised man into the unknown wilderness of ice. He had not one-tenth of the monetary backing that Captain Scott possessed, his vessel was poorly equipped, his party numbered only a third of the British expedition, and yet he wins the goal and returns to civilisation to modestly announce that the South Pole carries the Norwegian flag. That man was Captain Roald Amundsen. All honour to him! He won at the first time of asking what three expensively-equip-ped British expeditions have so far failed to achieve. He conquered not by following on the tracks of former explorers, but as a sportsman. He struck out on a route of his own. That he met with fair weather and favourable conditions was his good fortune, but can in no way detract from the signal honour he has won.

Captain Amundsen returns to civilisation —if we may call Hobart civilisation —and with characteristic modesty tells of his great achievement ostentation and without ‘‘crowing’’ over his rival. How different to the return of the two blatant and vainglorious Yankees who returned from “somewhere” in the Arctic regions a couple of years ago. They each did everything l in their power to •belittle one another, and succeeded only in belittling themselves. One, at least, has been proved an arrant humbug, and the claims of the other have been seriously discounted; in fact, there is still some doubt if either actually gained what they claim r ed to have achieved: certainly neither are now vested with much glory.

Amundsen has told his story simply and with candour. Every word bears the imprint of truth. Neither has he endeavoured to wrap his long “trek” over the ice in any mystery in order to create, an atmosphere for newspaper copy. His expedition was not undertaken for personal aggrandisement, but primarily to stimulate interest in discovery, so that he might be able to carry out his life-long ambition to explore the Arctic regions. Surely now Captain Amundsen has established his right to rank as the greatest explorer of the century, and the man that should be entrusted to •lead an international expedition through the Arctic regions.

An American journalist has been waxing eloquent on the sins of party government as carried on under the blessed influence of the. Southern Cross. This is what he thinks of the dignified (?) Assembly presided over by Mr Speaker Willis in the Mother -State: —“I have seen the N.S.W. Parliament, and it impressed me as a poor machine to do business with. No business institution in the world would tolerate that kind of horseplay. Those men presumably are, or should be, there for a definite purpose, but they don't set about it in a businesslike way. In other words, they make politics a game of competition, and competitive politics can be as bad for a country as competitive drinking. They sought nothing so much as' to tear each other to pieces. And in that operation they employed tactics worthy of the bar-room or a prize-fight."

The Yankee scribe evidently did not visit the Parliament of this fair land; but, nevertheless, his remarks would be as appropriately applied to our own ’Ouse, with perhaps these words to substitute the last sentence: “And in that operation they employ tactics worthy of a Boys’ Scout picnic or a woolshed debate.”

Another visitor to Australia has been very frank in her remarks about politics in the Sunny South. This time it is a woman, who says: — “The worst thing I want to say about Australians is that they are allowing themselves to be governed by a class of person entirely ignorant. In Australia you seem to be content to let any ignorant man who has an inclination that way interfere with politics.” Again the criticism seems to be equally applicable to this benigned land.

The glory that used to shine on the Premier picnic at the zenith of Dick Seddon’s fame was something to regard with awe. In those days the Premier picnic was a great event, but of recent years its glory has waned, even though it is still held under the aristocratic patronage of the Governor, our Baronet Premier, and a number of the lesser lights that twinkle in the political sky.

The great and glorious democracy which the Premier picnic used to prosper under has become transformed, and it now stands for a piebald, nondescript blending of all the incongruous elements that go to make up our hotch-potch social and political world to-day. Such gatherings as that held last week gives one pause for reflection, and suggest the ugly query: Is there anything straightforward in politics, or is it all a game of bluff and humbug? We find among the motley crowd the leaders of both

political parties and their underlings —to say nothing of the rail-sitters — all with their ears turned to catch the voice of the mob, and all endeavouring by every subterfuge, to gain probation of the multitude. * S: s’: Fancy trying to frightening women into wisdom. The thing seems preposterous. Yet the Sydney City Coun-

cil have ventured to do so by passing a regulation forbidding women 'using theii' public ways “to wear a hatpin which protrudes in such a way as to be a source of danger to any person.” A conviction against this byelaw implies a penalty not exceeding £lO. Everyone appreciates, even women themselves, that to wear fierce stilletto blades projecting from their hats is dangerous to the public. But what of that. If fashion dictates that women must wear atrocious headgear that cannot be carried without skewers thrust through an inane collection of contraptions used to make a whisk of hair appear like a deformed haystack, those dangerous hatpins must prevail even at the risk of maiming helpless citizens.

The New Zealand Sports Protection League has been making good progress in the South, and the membership has now reached 50,000, while each month hundreds of new members are enrolling Had it not been for a hopeless blunder perpetrated by an ill-advised organiser Auckland might have by this time been the chief stronghold of the League. Unfortunately the dissention raised by R. A. Armstrong’s endeavour to use the League as a lever for the political preferment of certain candidates against the express wish of the Board of Control had an injurious effect on the cause in the North. The executive were, therefore, well advised to let the old sore heal before attempting to establish a permanent branch in Auckland.

Everyone is now fully aware of how hopeless it was to expect anything satisfactory to the cause of sport culminating out of the spasmodic flare-up Armstrong engineered. Naturally, like all pyrotechnic displays, it soon fizzled out, and for a time all that was left was the disagreeable odour. Happily that has now disappated, and the atmosphere fs again clear.

The time is now ripe for the executive to again turn their attention to this part of the Dominion, and take active steps to get a branch of the League established Here on definite and clean-cut lines. There is no part of New Zealand where the anti-sport element is so strong as in Auckland, and consequently it is incumbent on every true sportsman to take active steps to‘ counteract the. baneful interference of the joy-strangling fraternity.

At a recent meeting of the Sports Protection League in Christchurch the chairman (Mr A. A. Boyle) repudiated the oft-repeated suggestion that the League was run primarily in the interests of the racing clubs by stating that in practically every branch that had been established the majority of members selected to the committees were identified with other branches of sport, and consequently racing men did not predominate on the councils of the League, although the racing clubs had provided the money which enabled the organisation to make a start.

Mr Boyle also had a good word to say for the sport of racing. He had, Ke said, been connected with racing all his life, and he was proud of it. He believed that they had on their racecourses at the present moment more respectable citizens interested in that sport than they had in any other sport in the world. There was a -class of person who thought that if a man was connected with racing, or was a racing man, he was bound for perdition. If a racing man ever reached that locality he would probably find a good many of the other class there with him.

The youjig Scotsman, after having been entertained all day long by a friend, without making an offer to “stand” anything himself was at last .seen to put his hand in his pocket. “Oh, don’t you offei’ to pay,” said his friend, a little contemptuously, “you’d better leave that to me.” “I never thocht o’ paying.” exclaimed the Scotsman, with indignation, “I was ainly scratchin’ me leg.”