A Wrestling Slump

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 299, 9 March 1928, Page 10

A Wrestling Slump

BACKWASH OF FORMER BOOM Memories of Zbyszko and Robin

A DISCREDITED sport in nearly every other quarter of the globe, wrestling still continues to stir the frothy backwash of a former wave of popularity in the United States, where all manner of so-called “championships” can be assured of some sort of support from the cosmopolitan throng who constitute the clamorous “bleachers” of American sport.

From Chicago last month, the sporting world was vaguely reminded that there is still such a thing as a world’s championship in matcraft, albeit the laurels of the champion are yellowed and crinkled. Anyhow, it was a girthy gentleman by name of “Strangler” Lewis, who lifted the tattered remnants from the sweating brow of Mr. Joe Stecher, who had hung on to them so long that they were becoming more like a wreath than a championship garland. “Strangler” beat Stecher by the odd fall in three. The bout started at midnight, and although one fall was secured in 56 seconds, the match dragged on to the early hours of the morning. PICTURESQUE ZBYSZKO

When Stanislaus Zbyszko was round this way 18 months ago, the baldheaded Pole was billed as the "world’s champion,” but the term has been so sadly mangled that “world’s championships” in wrestling are of little real worth, except for the preliminary “boosting” with the unsophisticated. Thei last that was heard of “Zibby” was that he had been beaten by one of Sunni’s agile compatriots in India. The old fellow, with his shiny cranium, was a great source of entertainment to Auckland fans, and his two terrific battles with Ike Robin at the Auckland Town Hall were at least “the real McKay” in matcraft on a mastadonic scale. The New 2!ealand Wrestling Association deserves the credit for putting c*n a couple of big attractions which were in marked contrast to the brawling and childish displays of peevishness which characterised the disreputable series of so-called championships in Melbourne last year. Curiously enough, Melbourne stands alone in the public support it ac-

corded these farcical “world’s championships.” The more sophisticated Sydneysiders would have nothing to do with them, although strenuous efforts were made to woo the fans away from Rushcutters’ Bay before the “tin hares” started to eat into the profits of Stadiums, Ltd. IN NEW ZEALAND Spasmodic efforts have been made to revive wrestling in New Zealand, but even the Zbyszko-Robin battles failed to draw the crowd as they really should have done. What chance then have the Sunnis and Andersons of even paying expenses for the associations which stage the bouts? It is a pity, in a way. A good wrestling match can provide its full quota of thrills, and the comparative few who ‘saw Zbyszko and Robin wrestle in Auckland the winter before last witnessed two classic contests, the like of which they will probably never see again. Ike Robin was a real champion, lhaapa Rapana, as he was known to his Maori friends, was a world-beater in the making, but he was too much attached to his home in Hawke’s Bay and the carefree life on the farm to worry much about commercialising his prodigious strength of body and limb in the hectic atmosphere of the American wrestling ring. A goodnatured, gentle-spoken Colossus, Lke would far sooner adjourn to quaff a pint of good beer with his adversary e.fter the noise of battle had died away than worry about promoter’s contracts. In his way, he was unique in modern wrestling, a vivid reminder of the brave old days when sport was 3port, untouched by the bligiiting influence of the almighty dollar.