The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1926-10-26

my punch.
l have told you that Weinert al
this time was no mean fighter
although he had been knocked oul
by Fred Fulton. the lanky plasterer
in 1917. and Harry Greb had beatei
him I'M 1927 Early in his career
! think it was in 1914. Jack Dillon
of Indianapolis. and a great figate.
in his day. put Weinert away. But
Weinert had come back in great
shape and was a fast one and 4
rough one.
The wounds / had suffered In
my memorable and painful frs
fight with the windmill Greb had
net healed entirely as faced
Weinert, Weinert's initial play was
to reopen the cuts Greb had left
over my eyes.
Weinert succeeded quickly in
ripping the tender skin from my
brOws and, as usual, / began to
bleed. Then Weinert rushed me
90 ropes and through them. j
said To him:
'sCharIie. lets fight hard but
eIeanIy.''
Weinert's answer was TO heel
me with his left He had decided,
/ presume, to awe me into sub
mission. Then he rushed me
through the ropes a second time.
Then a back-hand punch. By this
time I was completely angry.
am ashamed to confess it. but |
was fighting mad. Paradoxical as
Il may sound, fighter never
should be fighting mad. When this
semin1ania seizes anyone, he may
be inbued with uncommon strength.
but he is more apt than not to
use that force in random move
ments and spell his own undoins
against cool and calculating op
ponent.
I set my teeth and snarled in
n manner that would have pleased
my old bayonet instructor. M.jor
Biddle. when we attacked dummies
in practice began rougning
weinert right back. Now one of
my proudest claims is that | never
won or lost a fight on a foul. It
makes me shake when l recall
how near I was that night TO cast
ing aside regulations and becom-
ing a rough-and-tumble fighter.
Tt was one of the most bitter
encounters of my career Weinert
continued to foul. To my utter
regret. / fouled right back. |
swung like a steam shovel, vainly
seeking to lay Charlie low.
I had, been practicing left hook
q great deal in my training.
endeavored to use it on Weinert
but was lashing out-not punch
ing-and missed time after time
The third time tried to. connect
with my cratic left hook, Vein
ert. instead of moving back. 3
had been his practice. crossed a
right inside my hook. 1t landed
eduarely on the ''butotn."
Angry as ] was. / nevertheless
had enuOgh sense left to refrain
from hooking my left hand after
that crusIler had found its mark
But j kept wiHging away with
my right and Weinert weakened
somewhat. He, too. had been
worked up to such a pitch that
he was unable to follow up his
nuuches with cool, determined,
short money-blOws.
After each of my battles, not
excepting my last one, it has been
view as much as possible md take
stock OF myself 1t is a wise in
yentory. if you do il correctly.
This time / took the fight apart
anaIyzed it from every angle.
irving to decide what vancouver
should eliminate from future con
tests. It is obvious that / deter,
mined to keep my head in other
houts. for my We!nert battle had
proved most unsatisfactory to me.
despite the fact that the fans were
saying:
"Who said this fellow Tunney
waa calm and cold? Say. he gets
as mad as a hornet"
Further study of the bout and A
slowing remembrance of that tell.
ing right-hand counter blow when
I led with a left hook caused me to
decide that I must spend a great
deal of time in perfecting that
blow. For. without a good left
hook, no fighter can be great
champion anywhere or at any
Morning. noon and night.
hooked my left at imaginary OPP
Moments. While on the road. I'd
ZION and shadow box furiously,
hooking. hooking. hooking. hook
ing until + was az dizzy as a dys-
peptic on a merry .go-round. In
the gym. too. | pract.ced the blow
on my partners / cdftailed my
usual morning calisthentcs that |
might devote more time 10 hooking.