A SPORTING BRIGADE.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1322, 26 August 1915, Page 7

A SPORTING BRIGADE.

An attempt is being made in Sydney to raise a sporting brigade for the front, according to “Milroy,” who thus writes:—Among those already at the front there are enough for two brigades, already educated in the art of Turk-baiting. One of the promoters of the “sporting brigade,” I hear, is Mr. J. J. Smith, the principal owner of Victoria Park. He could get a goodly number of healthy young men from among his patrons—young men who know how to take care of themselves, and are not likely to give either Turk or German a walk-over when there is anything to be won or lost. Sport in any form is some test for nerves and courage; but, of course, the more strenuous field games naturally improve the condition of the muscles and wind; therefore football-

ers surely make the best of infantry. But it may surprise city folk to learn that good horsemanship requires perfect condition. Nothing affects the muscles so' much as a hard day in the saddle, and for that reason bushmen make, tip-top soldiers on horse or foot. A jockey out of condition is useless. Somebody has written to a Sydney papei* protesting against some fearful language used by a batch of jockeys in one of the recruiting sheds at Liverpool. There are no professional jockeys at Liverpool just now, and there is no reason for supposing the jockey class hold a monopoly of profane words; but it would appear that any stick is good enough to beat a racing dog with. The wool industry is the backbone of Australia. Woolly sheep are not much use unless you find shearers to shear them, and shearers (so I have heard) can hold their own when it comes to swear words. If those people who so frequently, and always tamely, attempt to disparage racing for very minor reasons were consistent, they should move the powers that be to stop the breeding of sheep because shearers swear awfully, and they also play twoup and poker, and occasionally get drunk and fight each other with a vigour that would brighten even the adequate pen of Mr. Ashmead Bartlett.