BOXING.

Taranaki Daily News, 20 August 1921, Page 11

BOXING.

DEMPSEY SPEAKS.

RESPECT FOR CARPENTIER.

(By Jack Dempsey.)

Jersey City (N.J.J, July 2. The heavyweight championship of the world remains in America.

Europe sent into the ring this afternoon the greatest ring battler she has developed in forty years, but he was a little too light, a little too small, too frail, really, to take back to his homeland the first crown of the universe.

Victory came to me this afternoon, and defeat was the portion of Georges Carpentier, of France.

But in defeat there is glory for that game, splendid boy who gave me one of the very toughest battles of my lifetime. What a fast fellow Carpentier is! How clever, and how he can hit with only 172 pounds backing him up! He crashed the old right-hander to uny head In tte first, and caught me flush on the chin ivlth it in the second. Not once, but twice, those punches shook me up, but they really meant the beginning of the end of Carpentier’s dream of pugilistic conquest of the world.

For, when he fit me twice in the second with everything he had, and I stayed on my feet, I knew I couldn't lose the fight. I abandoned the early caution, for I had nothing more to fear, and went out to cut him clown in a hurry. The end came in the fourth.

It was my promise to America that I’d fight to the last ounce of energy within me to keep the title here, and I have redeemed that promise. I put the best that was in me into the fight this afternoon, and I won as I promised. In the earliest moment that it was humanly possible for me to turn the trick. And now I hope that the stories that I was going to carry the Frenchman; that I was going to quit to him in the second, third, or sixth round, are stilled. I pledged my honor with the promise of an honest effort, and I gave the best I had.

The Frenchman surprised the crowd with the opening bull Hist, but I was prepared. I had been told he’d come out and swing a right with everything he had in the hope of catching une off guard, and so drop me if it landed, but he didn't land. MORE THAN USUAL CAUTION. I fought through that first round with more than usual caution. I had twelve rounds to finish tim in, and I wasn’t going to take any foolish chances with wild rushes. I let him lead, and was quite pleased whenever he came into a clinch, for I knew that in the clinches I could smash and batter away at. his rather slim body. I didn’t get in a really clear shot in the first, because I didn’t do much opening up. I was waiting for tte opportunity to present itself. But no real one came into sight. So the first ended with Georges wearing a red rose and a reddened body from clinch battering. hb socked mt! It was in the second that Carpentier showed the stuff that has made him the idol of France, and the greatest fighting man in Europe. life kept coming in and trying with the right. He missed a few of the lightning drives and then one of them landed. Like a flash he drove the same hit to the same spot and I'll confess with all honesty that he socked me just about as hard as anyone has hit in years. He came, landed a glancing third, and Us rush carried us into a clinch against the ropes. 1 guess he thought he had me on the skids then. But I’m rather a tough Westerner, with a jaw that can stand up under some tough hammering. I HAD TAKEN ALL HE HAD. Georges continued to rush me after tte clinch, but it didn’t do much good. The crisis was over. I had taken all he had, was on my feet full of fight, arid absolutely sure of victory. Perhaps had I tried I unight have finished him In the third with a series of cyclonic rlshes, because Georges camo up for tte third seemingly weary and lacking the earlier fighting spirit. But I decided to use that round to wear him down, and then made the big try for him in the fourth. All the while I kept looking for a good opening, but the Frenchman either danced away or fell into clinches. The clinches, ttough, harmed more than helped him, for I kept ripping Into pis body and lifting short uppercuts that weakened him more and more. ‘ NO LONGER FIGHTING BACK. As the bell ended the third I knew that Georges couldn’t weather another round. I had him in close quarters, rocking him with left and rights, and he was wabbly then, and no longer was fighting back. Then came the fourth. I went after him then, faked a left to head and then sent home the punch that paved the way to practically every important victory in my lifetime. It was the lifting right-hander to the heart, delivered at rather short range, and with everything I had behind it. I felt the Frenchman sag, but he didn’t go down right there. He showed superb gameness. He backed away and I went after him. He tried two or three side steps and ducks, as I tried to manoeuvre l im ( into a position where I could land to the jaw. ONE, TWO, PERFECTLY EXECUTED. Ho started a right, and as he did I let loose the left hook. It caught him flush on the chin and ft fraction of a second later, even as he staggered. I landed a right hook. It was the one,' two, perfectly executed, and Georges Carpentier crumpled to the floor. He seemed crushed utterly beaten, but. like the game fellow' he is. he pulled himself from the floor with the count of "nine” and back he camo in fighting position again. FOUGHT AS RED-BLOODED MAN. I measured him for another left honk, landed it with IRS pounds behind it. and then hooked over the right. Carpentier toppled to the floor on his right side and lay for a few seconds, like a fallen log. At the count of six be tried to lift himself up, but the power was gone from his person, and he crumpled again to the floor. “Seven, eight, n|ne,” tolled off Referee Harry Ertle. And the championship of the world remains In America. I picked Carpentier off the floor, and never have I lifted to his feet a finer, cleaner boy, nor a gamer fighter—a man who justly deserves to be the athletic idol of France.

He fought ns only a red-blooded, courageous man can fight; fought to the last ounce of strength in his body, and no man can do more.—S.F. Examiner.