PRESENT WHITE HOPES.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1243, 12 February 1914, Page 28

PRESENT WHITE HOPES.

FITZSIMMONS EXPRESSES OPINION.

Jess Willard, Gunboat Smith, Arthur Pelkey,, and Carl Morris continue to wage their heated controversy regarding which of the quartette is entitled to be styled the white 'Champion of the boxing world, and it was after listening to an airy persiflage Detween Willard and Morris that Bob Fitzsimmons, the one-time famous heavyweight champion, broke into thje conversation with the following frank opinion of the boxers mentioned: — “Say, I’ve seien the day when I’d take one or the other of those big, fat, over-grown slobs and topple each one for tbje count inside of a round. Fighters! Gawd, blimme, I never see such a lot of goms! Back in th’ old days,” said Fitz, “when I worked in the Cornwall mines, there was a bunch of freshies who uster come down quite gallus ’fore they got used to the dose atmosphere. Presently thjey’d fall over, knocked out, and ’ad to be carried to the outside air. Goms was what we called ’em, an’ it seems to me that’s wot suits the present generation of ’eavyweights.” So long as Fitz had his punch in working order none of the big heavies had a chance with him. One can fancy how Morris, Willard, and the rest of the bjig white hopes would have toppled over before the terrific right jolts of the blacksmith from New Zealand whlen the latter was in his prime. Take Ed. Dunkhorst, for instance. Dunkhorst was known as the “Human Freight Car.” In condition he weighed about 280 pounds, a veritable Goliath of Gath. Peter Maher had failed to stop him. Gus Ruhlin had proved equally unsuccessful. Joe Choynski had tried his science and hitting power in vain, Tommy Ryan thought he had found another Jeffries. Dunkhorst looked like a sure world-beater. So they matched Dunkhjorst with Fitz. Bob walked up to the giant, feinted him out, and slammed that famous short right to the jaw. Dunkhorst fell with* a crash th.at (shook tlfcj building and didn’t come to for 20 minutes.

Fitzsimmons was born on t e Rurth day of June, 1862, at Elston, Cornwall, England, and in that locality his boyhood days were passed. At nine years of age he went in company with his parents to Lyttelton, New Zealand, where the life of the prize-ring hero really began. Schooling was distasteful to young Bob. He did have, however, an inclination to excel in athletic sports, such as running and walking. Boxing had not as yet been included among his accomplishments, but he had learned thjat in the rough and tumble game, which was the usual windup of a schoolboy’s sports, he was well able to take care of himself. His first fight was with a burly blacksmith, and Fitz got out of the maiden class by scoring a complete knock-out. Talk of his achievement soon spread, and it was mooted abroad that he would be just the man to represent Timaru in the boxing tourney which Jem Mace, England’s famous champion, who was then touring the colonies, had decided to arrange. Fitzsimmons weighted then about 150 pounds, and was very deceptive in appearance, being big and loose jointed. Mace sized him up for a lightweight and commented sarcastically on his nerve in entering a tournament where slashing big heavyweights were entered for the trophy. Fitz only grinned, and told Mace he couldn’t do any worse than get licked. So it was with the expectation of seeing the Timaru youngster get whipped in a hurry that England’s champion accepted his entry and permitted him to box. JEM MACE LIKED 808. Mace was suite taken with Fitzsimmons when, he saw him stripped. He felt those big sinewy muscles, and told the now grateful youth that if he could box at all he ought to

win i at least one of the* four bouts that he was scheduled to take part in. But Mace didn’t really appreciate Fitz’s fistic quality until he saw him stand up before that quartette, of fighters and bowl them over one after th|e other, smiling placidly as each' one trotted up to take his medi-' cine. The entire four were knocked out completely, and for the first time Timaru realised that it would one day figure in pugilistic history. Just a year later Mace visited America with his aggregation of fistic stars, which included Herbert Slade, (the Maori. Fitz was on deck at once and offered to put the gloves on with anyone in the company. They let Bob have a chance at Slade, and the red-top was pounding the life out of Mace’s champion when, the latter stopped the bout to save his man from a clean knock-out. A row between Mace and Fitzsimmons followed, and Bod offered to take on the champion himself. They donned the mitts, but before a blow was struck the spectators hissed. Mace so vigorously for taking advantage of a novice that. the British chairipion walked to his corner and declined to go any further.

We all know what happened to Slade when Mace took the half-

breed to America and pitted him against John L. Sullivan. The latter finished the job that Fitz begun, and nothing more was heard of the Maori.

From then on Fitz became a noted ring hero. We can afford to pass over his fight with Jem Hall, in which the speckled athlete took the count, for he proved later at New Orleans that he was Hall’s master. Until old Father Time put a crimp in his muscles there was none to compare with him. And you can just imagine the slow, greasy chuckle h,e indulged in the other day as he harked to big Carl Morris and Jess Willard when they were setting forth their championship claims. How soft either man would have been for him in the days when he was really Bob Fitzsimmons, the speckled terror of the prize ring!