New-York tribune., 1917-12-03
Fifteen Teams
Start on Their
LongBike Trip
Raymond Hitchcock Fires
Gun That Opens Bill
Wellman's Show
By Fred Hawthorne

The twenty-ffth annual siX-day race
was off to a flying start one minute
after the big chimes in the Metropo!-
itan Tower had sounded the hour Of
midnight. By that time the track
walkers" had swept away the last bits
OF she'll remaining from the debris shed
by the Hard Boiled Eggs in their ter
rife scramble around the saucer, and
Raymond Hitchcock, in a hard-boiled
shirt and the other "fxings" that go
with such scenery, had fired the start
ing gun.
The riders who started the race, rep
resenting the fifteen teams entered,
were Kramer, Goullet. Cory, Piercey
Spears, Root, Hill. Lawrence, Carman,
Linart, Weber. Eager, Walthour, Ma
dona and Willie Spencer.
There was a wild bedlam of noise as
the fifteen riders left their marks and
began hitting up twenty-five miles an
hour pace, alternating in the lead as
they swept around the oval. A major
ity of those present seemed 10 hope
that Kramer and Egg, the Hard Boiled
Egg" team, would try 70 sprint into a
lap lead in the first hour, and every
time one of the pair took his turn at
making the pace there were shrleks
from the boys cup there" in the gal
lery.
The man who was at the Garden
when the first race was started, quar-
ter of a century ago, was there last
night. He has grown old and silver
haired in the siX-day service, but he
knows what is what in these affairs.
The "Old Stuff"
"Ah, that's the old stuff; that's the
way we always do it," he remarked to
himself as the inevitable parade OF the
riders around the track before the start
of the race was taking place. The
team partners circled slowly around,
arms thrown over each others shoul-
ders, while the band brayed forth the
various national anthems of the nations
represented. The band leader forgot TO
play "Die Wacht am Rhein," snd no.
body complained.
The inclosure within the track was a
hive of industry. Old Strong ARM
the worlds undefeated candy puller,
was there, singing the "chew stuff
over the hook; Horrible Henry" the
youth with the waiing whistle, was tor
turing They're Wearing EN- Higher
in Hawaii" and Silvey Burns regaled
the inhabitants of the press stand with
a selection of his choicest, most dulcet
tonal gems. Strong men wept. AIM
life tough?
From the depth, of the Garden Sub
marine" regions, under the main floor,
were waited the fragrances Of the ia
vorite Teutonic fruit, the festive frank
furter. "Hark, hark, the dogs do bark,
the beggars are coming to town.
hummed Charlie Harvey, feeling in his
one-way pocket for jitney.
The stage setting was apparently per-
fection itself. A Belasco. aided by a
Leon Bakst, could not have added an
improving touch, but the man who was
at the first race missed something vital
"Jo-Jo, where is Jo-Jo?" he moaned
inconsolably.
Jo-Jo Bleats
As though in answer to his plant,
the unearthly bleat of Jo-Jo, tie dog.
faced boy, rose from box near the
track "Bla-a-al" il said, and the
wrinkleG veteran smiled the smile of in
effable peace and happiness. "Now can
sleep o. nights" quoth he. ITS great
race!"
Gene Schreyer, the man who does the
Deadly, Deluging Dip of Death" on a
bicycle from a three-foot wide runway
suspended from the roof beams and
ending in a fifty-foot somersault into a
tank on the floor, did his bit, while
the Eggs shifted scornfully. "He didn't
have the nerve TO start in our race"