The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-03-15
M'FARLAND VICTOR
 OVER OWEN MORAN
Stock Yards Champ Easily Bri- tons Master in Ten Round BOut-CutS Lose in Sixth SeS- sion and From That Time on Has it All His Own Way

New York. March 15.-If Packey Mcfarland had a little stiffer punch New York sports would be ready to acclaim him, today, the greatest lightweight the game has known for years. His 10 round victory over Owen Moran. the cleverest of Eng lands little men, at the Fairmont, last night, was so clean cut as to leave no doubt that for shiftiness, boxing and fighting "sense" he hasn't an equal in his division.
 Mcfarland won easier than expect ed, due to an exhibition of far more cleverness than he had before shown in this city rather than to any de- terioration on Moran's part. In the last five rounds the Chicago boy cut loose and turned a fight that had been rather close into a runaway. Moran, usually sure shot, found Mcfarland entirely too elusive and his wild swings were answered by telling jabs from his opponent.
 The big crowd was convinced that either Mcfarland or Moran is a bet ter man than Champion Wolgast and that Mcfarland would probably prove the superior of "Knockout' Brown, local aspirant for the championship.
 In ten sizzling, clean, scientific ses- sions of sparring Mcfarland outpoint- ed Moran. In the first five rounds the clever Chicagoan only was a nose in front. His lead in the first, second Moran had a shade the better of the milling in the third round and held Mcfarland to an even break in the fourth.
 All this time Mcfarland was study the little Briton, seeking for plan to beat him, searching for an opening and trying to draw him out. Packey cut loose in the sixth session and from then on McF'arland's superiority was so superior as to make the bout appear as between teacher and pupil.
 After the fifth round McFarlands work was too much even for the clever little fighting man from Eng land. In and out with the spring of Tiger leaped Mcfarland. cutting and slashing at Moran. .Ii,e, He iasned nn. tier and with the fierceness of a cor nered wildcat.
 Wasp-like jabs and snappy upper cuts drove Moran back. Then Packey would coax Owen into @ lead and him with wickedly and accurately placed lefts and rights. The Br1ton fought back like a bulldog, but Nc Farland's brilliant boxing bewildered him.
 Despite the high assessments, the
  the first preliminary. The members were packed in like sardines. Fully as many as got in were turned away at the doors.
 It was announced that both men met the required weight, 1855 pounds at o'clock. That was all the club officials had to say on the matter, but one of the disinterested ones who saw the weighing in said that Me Farland did not have as much weight
 D,,,+ +srIo o Mcfarland barely stirred the beam at 134 pounds, while Moran was said to weigh only a shade under 1o3 pounds.
 When Announcer Pete Prunty in stentorian tones introduced Mickey Finnegan and Artie Edwards, who boxed the getaway premilinary, some of the anxious members cast their eyes over the house for the dreaded police.
 None appeared, however, and the members settled back to enjoy the
 Mcfarland, clad in red sweater and blue trousers, was the first to appear. He was handled by his man ager, Emil Theiry; Johnny McF'ar- Packey's face looked trlfle drawn as he sat in his corner awaiting Mor- ans appearance.
 It was several minutes before Nor an. accompanied by his manager. Charley Harvey, Jimmy Johnson, Jeff Perry and Fred Sears appeared. Owen was clad in fighting trunks and a brown sweater.
 McFarland's manager did not like the feel of Moran's bandages, but did not argue against their use. When the men stripped two beautiful speci- mems of physical manhood were pre- scented. Packey had a slight adVan- tage in height and reach, but Owen was stockier.
 '"Ten-round exhibition by the worlds greatest lightweights Owen Moran of England and Packey Me Farland of Chicago called Peter Prunty. The men came to the centre for the handshake and brief 1nstruc- tions. "Clang!" went the bell and the fight was on.
 There were no knOckdOWns, though in the sixth round Moran was driven through the ropes by the herceness of the Chicagoan's sOrtie. It was more from the impetus of McFar- lands rush than from the grazing right to the jaw that sent the little Briton hurling through the ropes.
 Several times in the ten sizzling ses- sions, Mcfarland staggered Moran, but Owen, cool as the proverbial clam, always stalled or fought out of
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