THE FATAL FIGHT

Gisborne Times, Volume VI, Issue 190, 19 August 1901, Page 1

THE FATAL FIGHT

OTTO CRIBB’S LAST MILL. A densely-packed crowd filled tho Gaiety Hall, Sydney, on July 22nd. All grades of society were represented in the throng. The gallery was a great sea of heads and faces, while hundreds had to bo content with standing room (and were wodged tightly at that) in the body of the hall. Otto Cribb—back from America a month or two since—had agreed to give Mick Dunn a return match.

The contest was exciting and lively, and bristling as it did with stirring situations, cheers and applause and shouts of encouragement or approval to one or other combatant were frequent and free. Tho mill often looked a scrambling, scuffling affair, but this was caused by Otto’s persistency in attacking and tho manner he had of hurling himself at tho enemy, also tho clinch that would occur after every rush. Cribb led and swung out of distance dozens of times, and Mick

smilingly reckoned up each of these miss-

shots as one to his credit, for they took a lot of steam out of the deliverer. Dunn paid some little attention to Otto's ribs.

Though several landed, most of Otto's left leads were taken over the right shoulder,

and whilo in that position a right placed in the vicinity of the short ribs would remind tho willing New Zealander that ho had come a wee bit too close.

Odds of 5 and 6 to 4 wore played on

Cribb at the outset. For several rounds it looked as if he would triumph over Mick

again, and in shorter order than previously

but the old ’un showed a bold front, and, though hotly pressed occasionally, and, as far as appearances wont, on the verge of defeat several times, he stuck to his guns manfully. Mick’s left hand went in the fourth round, and every time he poked it into the enemy’s face must have given

him great pain. Mick dodged, ducked, and clinched as best he could to avoid the onslaught, and gave an exhibition of grit that warmed tho hearts ot the house to-

wards him. A big majority of that excited mass of men, swaying and yelling inccs-

lantly, wanted to see the 11 old fellow

win, but throughout several rounds, as already stated, his prospects looked anything but rosy, and there were occasions when it appeared tho proverbial guineas to gooseberries that another round would witness his defeat. Again yells of “ They’re both tired 1” came from all quarters, and in good truth it seemed so two or three times. Neither could hurt the other, and each looked as if he would have given the world for the power to send home just one stiff punch, which was all that the situation called for. Three rounds before the finish Mick

had revived wonderfully, and, bar the bad hand, seemed lit to go on through half a dozen more, but it was noted that once Otto commenced to go ho never picked up again, this in contra-distinction to the fact that whenever previously here—especially in those two fights with Sturgeon—the minute’s spell saw him recuperate in a remarkable manner. Cribb, though on his hands and knees, was counted out, done to a turn, after as gallnnt a struggle against tho decree of fate as over a man put forth.

The affair doesn’t call for a detailed description. There was too much scramble and scuffle about it.

“ Time,” brought the pair up sprightly. Nothing of moment occurred in the initial round. It was principally scuffle and scramble. “Keep cool, Mick!” admonished several of the crowd. Already Dunn bogan to bestow much attention on his opponent’s ribs. Mick was smiling most of

the time, and seemed more himself than when the same pair met before. Otto led frequently, but timed badly. This was all Mick’s round. Cribb started in to make

the pace right from the jump of the second term, and they mixed things royally. Clinches were plentiful. A left in the face and a right swing on the jaw from Otto caused him to follow up and make vigorous play. Mick puffed a bit; his opponent was strong and husky. Side-stepping [from a feint, Mick slipped on all fours, and had no sooner risen than Crib rushed him to his corner, and, with excitement at high tension, banged in both hands, but Mick dodged cleverly, and plunked one homo every time he got a chanco ; his blows, however, didn’t seem to carry too much powder. Roughing followed. Otto shot a left on the ribs and a right on the back of Mick’s cleverly-turned shoulder. The third term saw each punch away freely, until a left jab on the chin sent Mick’s head back. Pulling himself together, however, the old ’un landed loft in the ribs and right on the side of the head. Fast work followed, punctuated by encouraging screeches from tho crowd. Cribb placed a harmless right-cross on the jaw. Dunn still smiled ; his opponent looked serious, a heavy swing from Mick narrowly missed the point, and Otto retaliated with a not too vimful one in the neighborhood of the chin.

“ Even money Cribb ! ” evoked no response at tho beginning of the fourth term. Matters were quiet for a while, then Otto became the aggressor again. Duun evaded, and soon delivered the best blow up to this stage—a left- jab on tho throat that took Otto by surprise. Some mixing worked tho feelings of the crowd up to bursting point. Mick got a telling right upper-cut home as “ corners ” sounded. Cribb rushed bull at-a-gate-like directly the bell sounded for the fifth time of meeting, and every punch he delivered, whether it landed or not, evoked a loud

sounding “ Oosh! ” from him; but “ ooslies ” don’t count, and as most of the blows failed to make connection Mick was not troubled. Dunn dodged well, but couldn’t avoid Otto always. Once the New Zealand man —forcing the work vight across the ring—appeared to own the situation. There was not much punishment either way this time, and what little occurred did no harm. Otto swung three times on the side of the head, but the necessary force was absent. Desperate rushes by Cribb set the ball rolling in the seventh round, but all his power was expended in the air. Towards tho close Otto slipped, and remained on one knee for eight seconds. The concluding portion of the three minutes was little better than a scramble. In the eighth round Mick fell back on tho ropes for support, but all Otto's vim had gone. Cribb early 7 went down on one knee to avoid his man, and remained there for nine seconds. Once more, ere the gong's sound he sought the haven the floor offered, and again no fault of Mick’s, as far as concerned tho delivery of a blow. In the ninth and last round Cribb worked hard and well, but his strength appeared to be leaving him completely. At last Otto sunk to his knees, while Dunn was yet yards distant, tho timekeeper counted him out, though he rose unassisted immediately the last second of the stipulated ten had been voiced. Dunn wins,” said Referee Beckett, and the crowd cheered uproariously.