New Britain herald., 1927-09-24
ANDY HAS BOUT
 WITH AMATEURS
Several Things Happen When Ht
 D0nS the MittS
Dear Mary Ann,

] had entered the prize ring in our lodge which was trying to raise money 10 get more dumbells for the gymnasium class, and made such a 1 good showing with the upholstered mitts that my friends Cor maybe [. was my enemies) advised me to join the ranks of the give and j;,tHc.' boys in the amateur boxing bo:..: which is proving so popular nowa- days
 My first opponent was Breezy" Gates, a 145 ID. bozo from the wilds 1 of Plainville, who has been slinging to run errands to the corner drug store, and could trade wallops like a gypsy trades -nass. They hickman cd him Breezy" on account of his breezy line of batter in the ring which don't get him nothing but the this he takes his time in slipping over the sleeping pills. I figures they is two that can play at this game.
 Round one. We swaps a few rights and lefts to get warmed up, and a line on each other, and right away I learns that he don't seem to know his own mind but keeps hop ping around from place to plac" like he's scared I'll paste him if h. stands still. "Say, kid" I says, Give your feet a rest and I'll help 'em along by knocking the rest Of your weight off of 'em." ''Yeh," he grins, and slips over left to the bean which gives me everything but an appetite. You couldn't knock an empty saucer off the kitchen table without hollcring for help"
 This makes me sore and l turns loose a left which goes through his guard like an express through a jerk town and lands in his mid-section. They was enough steam behind this wallop to knock out any intelligent guy but all it does to this hczo is to make him fall into a clinch. We breaks and he is slow in mixing. Act your age and snap outa it.' ] says, parking my left under his chin Listen. you big stiff" he growls, singing me with parade of rights. Lay off the monologue and save your wind for the rest Of the franc 1 because when I turns my left hook loose I'll lose 1t so quick you'll think a vacuum cleaners got into it."
 That left hook of yours ain't done nothing but throw you off bal ance," l hands him, along with couple of mean short jabs. T ain't used it yet he sneers, But when I do you'll be parked alongside the ! canvas, and nobody crowding you" Getting in a last word with this guy ain't any easier than catching trolley car with a butterfly net. 1 Anyways the customers is yelling for action and tells us 10 can the school toy chatter and scrap, or else take a walk around the block.
 A fan in the rush seats bring roar of laughter from the crowd as he wisecracks line from Revoll- i tionary poem or something And there the embattled farmers stood.' i The referee warns us that we gotta mix it, and I sock him on the beez- CT q mean "Breezy's. not the ref eree's) as the bell rings. Round two. I starts the racket and crashes him to the ropes with a left. He bounces off the ropes 1 like it was barbed wire and then | settles down to work. and I learns | that work with him musta been a pleasure. He leans a heavy right i against my ear, slams me on the chin with left, rips both mitts to my ribs, flashes his left to the chin i again, and follows it with some long jabs to the heart. ctnches to save myself. We breaks, and l tags him with a left, snaps over a right 10 the map and peppers him with all I've got.
 He shakes them off like puppy shakes the old mans carpet slippers and wallops me with everything ex- cept his elbows.
 His mitts moved faster than mail plane at night, and was about as easy to see. I'm taking more punishment than a new car in the hands of a green driver and stops i so many blows that I begins to f'el like an auto bumper at the end of busy day in heavy traffic. He ! plays for my wind, hammering me with rights. and wears me down 1 like the soles ul hobo's size elevens and I'm putting like the winner of a fat mans race.
 He smashes right to the bread basket which leaves me weaker than a fly In a spiders web and I'm gasp ing for breath like a fish on shore leave and begins to feel like I'm & mistake going somewhere to he mistaken. He sends over three lefts without a comeback. stands up against these socks the same way a dish of pudding does against the gang at our boarding house. and
 crashes into my corner as the bell speaks It's piece, for which I was thankful.
 Round three. I comes outa my
 corner, and a daze at the same time.
 Something tells me this frame IS
 gonna be short and sweet ana that
 I ain't in on the sugar. socks him
 weakly and then he turns his lert
 hook loose. That left hook was as advertised. It catches me on the Jaw,
 lifts me off my pins, and onto the
 canvas. The referee counts the
 "ten," and he didn't hafta rush the
 numbers (if you get what I mean.
 The last eight numbers was wasted
 as I was already dead to the world,
 and didn't even hear them.
 Yours most respectful, ANDY DALE.