The Minnesota fiery cross. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1924-19??, 1924-03-14
A Sport Story Written
from Different Angle

the representatives of the press,
and the presence and activities OF
gamblers at affairs which are, ac-
cording to the law, only presenta-
tions of bodily skill connected with
mental coordination.
What really underlies the agita-
lions against the sport" is the con-
temptuous attitude assumed by it's
adherents to all considerations of de-
cency. People starve, living expenses
soar and human beings suffer priva-
ton. On top of these conditions
and in the face of them, hulk Of
humanity called a champion" re-
fuses to pummel another hulk, who
wants to be the champion" unless
he gets half million dollars for
doing it. Less important bruisers
refuse to contribute their services to
the cause of boxing art" unless they
get stipend for one night equal to
the salary of the President of the
United States for year. The man
ayers of boxers" talk in hundreds
of thousands. The promoters of "con-
tests" scorn the consideration Of
anything but millions. A cauliflower-
cared, alien-born illiterate a Jewish
meHtal defective, or a half-brute
foreign immigrant who can scarcely
speak English, will appear in public
for forty-five minutes for twenty
five thousand dollars or a percentage
Of the gate receipts that will amount
to more. For what? That the low
est elements of city, the scum of a
state, the refuse of a nation, may en-
joy imitation of the Coliseum in
Rome any time during the most de-
cadent days of the Empire. Stripped
of all its grand pretense, the "box-
ing" game is nothing but the sight
of one man trying to smash another
into Inconsistencies and being paid
to do it by a mob of bowling sadists,
who, being towards themselves, are
the first to detect the symptoms Of
faint-heartedness in the fighters,
and the loudest to yell their discov-
cry to the world.
The type is invariable. Fierce
eyes burning under the long peak of
cap. Raucous voices, angry lost
lings, ugly arguments, whispering
knots along the CUTTERS edge. I'm
developed bodies, puny physiques,
sickly faces. Oily prosperity, sleek
hair, flashy clothes, diamonds, Abes,
Jakes, Noes on one side of the Gar
den. Snarling at the high-priced
ticket windows! Wrangling with
ticket spectators in almost every
tiny candy store, fruit shop, or to-
bacconist coop which dots the side
streets.
On the other side of the Garden
more caps, rougher clothes, fiercer
eyes, angrier arguments, sporadic fist
fights for places in the ticket line,
more Abes, more Jakes, more Noes,
all clamoriRg for the smell of the
arena and the sight of blood. No
boxing contest in Manhattan is COM
plete without it's quota of women
observers. AS affairs like the Leon
and the Dempsey-Firpo
battles the feminine leaders of Man
smartest society were pres
ent en- masse. And near enough 10
acquire a souvenir splash of crimson
for their pains. No one thinks any,
thing about it unless perhaps it is
the fighters themselves.
Meantime frankie Jerome has been
killed! Sporting" Manhattan's only
now is lest the sport" he
died participating in may be finished
also. Why should it be? Isn't there
money to be made in it? Money
talks! Sometimes it rattles-like the
bones of dead men. But Manhattan
should worry about thati