TALES AND FANCIES

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 56, 28 May 1927, Page 12

TALES AND FANCIES

FROM THE PEN —OF—FRITZ HOLLAND (All rights reserved )

is the first of a series of articles specially written for THE SUN by Fritz Holland, the famous American boxer. Since his retirement from the game, Fritz has made his home in New Zealand, and is at present in business in Christchurch.

STYLE

The editor asked me to write about what I consider the most effective boxing style. Having studied the subject for more than 20 years, I propose now to express and explain my views.

We’ll start with Dempsey, a fighter —beaten by Tunney, a boxer. And as Dempsey beat Firpo, another fighter, boxing, so far, wins. Willard was a boxer, and that evens Dempsey’s score, as it was’from him that Dempsey won the title. Willard won it from Johnson, who was a much more scientific boxer. So we scent a rodent!

Johnson beat Burns, a tearing fighter who was about half Johnson’s size. Throw that out!

Burns won it from Marvin Hart, who never held it.

So I suggest to the editor that he write the bally thing himself!

HOSPITALITY

“Red” Watson, a game, hard-hitting welter-weight, who was in Australia about 10 years ago, was a practical joker, and some of his jokes were a "bit over the odds.” Chicago "Knockout” Brown was one of his victims. Brown was a Greek, and was not a popular person. Some of the Sydney bookmakers had serious grievances against him, and "Red” did not like him either. After fulfilling his contract with Stadiums, Limited, Brown at "Red’s” suggestion, invited the bookmakers and th*ir wives to a farewell dinner at the training quarters. "Red” volunteered to attend to the selection of the menu and other details. At the appointed hour, the bookmakers and ladies rolled up, in their Rolls-Royces and “Red” was there to welcome them. Silks, satins and diamonds were there in profusion, their wearers bubbling over with expectation at the prospect of meeting the famous Spartan, the great "Knock-out Brown.” In addition to ordering the bill-of-fare, "Red” had planned a surprise for the guests. Brown, upon "Red’s” advice, appeared in boxing regalia, which caused a bit of a furore. Brown at once realised that something was amiss. There seemed to be a distinct chilliness in the room. There was more coming. Dinner was served. In the centre of the table were put a large-sized bucket of draught beer and a dozen saucerless teacups. Before each of the guests was placed a plateful of macaroni! Brown, in dismay, looked at "Red.” The bookies looked at Brown in disgust.

It was a painful scene, and odorous, for the Italian delicacy was impregnated with Limburger cheese, fortified with garlick, and lavishly peppered.

The feast was untasted; the smell was enough. An irate bookmaker arose and "told the world” just what he thought of "Knock-out” Brown, and of Brown’s hospitality. The other guests elaborated upon and emphasised, his statements. For a full hour the unfortunate Greek was subjected to a bombardment of vituperation. Then, with their ire and their hunger still unappeased, but with their vocabularies exhausted, the guests, male and female, left in high dudgeon. ‘Knock-out” sat huddled in his chair, a picture of misery! "Red” reckoned it had been a most enjoyable evening!

UP AND DOWN

Stanley Ketchel was matched with Benny Hart, who was a tough “trialhorse.” Hart was a negro and fairly game, and a good enough all-round fighter to test to the limit any aspiring youths in their quest for fistic laurels.

He and his friends were confident of his beating Ketchel, and made no secret of their assuredness. And it did appear to be "a good thing” because for some time previous to the fight Ketchel had enjoyed only indifferent prosperity, while Hart was welltrained, well-fed and in fine fighting form and trim.

But the’ Marysville fans had no way of knowing of Ketchel’s spartan courage and devastating punch, or of his natural and effective fighting style.

Hart soon discovered he had caught a Tartar, and although leading on points, he was having the fight of his life.

Ketchel proved to be a different sort of foeman from his predecessors and Hart was sorely beset by the ceaseless rain of sledgehammer blows that assailed him in every round. For a dozen rounds it. was a stirring fight, then Hart’s superior condition began to swing the balance in his favour. But Ketchel was a graduate of a hard school. Stanley Ketchel was one man who was never beaten until the numbers were up. Urged on by his admirers, Hart pursued his advantage, and the tiring, desperately-fighting Ketchel was soon in sore distress.

Staggering, bruised and bleeding, he was at last felled like an ox. With one eye closed and wits glimmering he had struggled to one knee. Hart stood by waiting. "Wait till I get up, you black- ! I’ll break your neck!” threatened the stricken and apparently beaten Ketchel.

This was too much for the negro. "Not to-night, you won’t, Mr. Ketchel!” he avowed as he fled through the ropes to his dressing room. The promoters then wired to Joe Thomas to arrange a match for the championship, then held by Thomas. A 500 dollar guarantee was offered him. Foley, his manager, wired back: “Thomas will fight anyone he never heard of for 500 dollars.”

They fought a 20-rounds draw. A short time later, Ketchel knocked out Thomas in 32 rounds, and the "unheard of” was middleweight champion of the world.

THE CHATHAM CUP

AN EARLY START BUT WHAT ABOUT FINAL? WHEN the H.M.S. Chatham sailed away from New Zealand in exchange for our more up-to-date cruiser, the Dunedin, the departing warship's company donated to the New Zealand Football Association a handsome trophy to be known as the Chatham Cup, as a small recognition of the kindness and hospitality the officers and crew had enjoyed in the Dominion in their various Soccer football contests, while on the New Zealand station. The Chatham Cup was awarded for competition among the many Soccer clubs throughout New Zealand, so that by a knock-out process the champion club of the Dominion could be found, in the same manner as the champion club in the English Cup (the greatest football competition ever staged) is determined at Wembley Stadium between the two surviving teams of the numerous “knock-outs.” The idea was adopted enthusiastically here, ind a well-planned scheme evolved by the New Zealand Council, under w.;ich the clubs in the four major provinces play off the eliminating rounds locally, and then the Auckland provincial winner meets the Wellington one for the North Island championship; while the champion Canterbury team meets the Otago survivor to decide the South Island winner. The two island champions then meet to decide the Chatham Cup winners and claim the club premiership of New Zealand. A FATAL OBSTACLE In theory the competir.ion is ideal, but the matter of club finance has always been a fatal obstacle. In the preliminary provincial bouts clubs that were knocked out were consoled with a cheque, if the “gate” showed a profit after the controlling body had partaken of their “working exes” and “cuts.” But if a North Auckland club had to travel to Wellington to meet a! Southland club in the final, both clubs had to pay all their expenses and hope for the best when the gate returns were “made up.” The result was that when the Auckland Harbour Board team went to Wellington and won the Cup, they found it such a costly enterprise that they at once disbanded in a bankrupt condition. Unfortunately the Harbour Foard Club did not disclose the risk to the other clubs, but folded their togs like Arabs and quietly joined up elsewhere. Last year the North Shore were unlucky enough to get into the final in Wellington—and have regretted it ever since, as it was only the determined effort of the club members which prevented a financial crash, and. naturally the club gave tongue to the absurd condition of a national competition, where losers retired from the contest i with a profit, while the winners returned home with a heavy loss. A HEAVY PRICE “What price glory?” asked the Shore Club, when it pointed out that losing clubs, local associations, sul.-associa-tions, and the New Zealand Football Association, w r ere all getting a nice prifit out of the Chatham Cup contest, while the club finalists had to pay a heavy price for their honour of meeting each other in the deciding game. It was difficult to understand why the winners lost money, while the losers had a win. Or why associations and sub-associations cut in for a heavy whack, if there was a profit on the local series, but accepted no liability to contribute if a loss of money occurred in them. Such a lop-sided arrangement could not hold long in so important a contest, and once the snare was exposed the clubs became gun-shy. The New Zealand Council is considering the situation, and the Auckland Football Association has announced its intention of staging the preliminary rounds of the Chatham Cup on Friday and Saturday next, with two games on

Friday ClCing’s Birthday), and two on the Saturday. But as the late Mrs. Beeton thought, it is just as well to catch your hare before you start to jug it or jazz it, and while the local clubs may enter enthusiastically into the opening knock-outs, in :he hope of a possible dividend as consolation for a loss, it will be another tale if the lucky (?) winners are asked to journey South to send themselves bankrupt.