The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-03-31

Ketchel was a great fighting anil 1nal. This lad of Polish descent had oatapulted through the welter and middleweight fighters of his time.
 He had been a bouncer in a Butte, Mont, dance hall and sa- loon. He had travelled via the rods from the place of his origin, Grand Rapids, Mich The young man, christened Stanislaus Klecal, h ad risen like a blast of flame to be- come a deity in the eyes of men who paid homage to savage knockout puncher.
 Box Office Appeal
 Ketchel was a glamorous figure of a glamorous era. His love for fierce physical combat was match ed only by the killing pace of the life he had mapped out-and he backed his chance to win with his sinews and his money. He was the kind who would stake all on the chance to land a finishing wallop.
 In December of the preceding year, Tommy Burns had unwisely permitted his glovces to mix with 8 great negro heavyweight, and the title had ever since been in quest for recapture by a Caucasian fight CT.
 Ketchel had been matched with Burns but now, he and his crafty manager, Willus Britt, had shifted their attention to the trail of the big smoke.
 A fight was arranged and, &C., cording to later reports, was lightly regarded by the black champion, Jack Johnson. He outweighed Ketchel by 65 pounds and since the affair was scheduled to go only IS rounds-a short distance for that time and place in pugilism-it pre- scented itself as more of a profitable workout to the champion than an actual defense of his crown.
 But the man never lived who could handle ball of fire, such as Ketchel, without battle. The crowd was early aware of this, too, when it saw Ketchel rushing and driving both fists to the body and head of the giant who lowered above him.
 They have since said that JOhn- son had proposed and sealed q ''gentleman's agreement" with Ketchel-neither man to outdo himself at the expense of the other. TheEe were movies to be filmed and a fight of good length would produce more film and prove more profitable to the contestants. But Johnson must have realized that this bristling middleweight could not hold back the flood of fight ing instinct.
 Both Down!
 Round after round Johnson, master boxer and ring general, con- centrated on the necessity of pro- tecting himself from the hurri- cane that strove to cut him down. But in the twelfth round for just a fleeting instant, Johnson grew careless.
 He turned to flash a golden grin and wink at ringsider, when SMASH!-quick as the darting head of striking serpent ketchePs right flashed in the autumn sum light.
 Down went Johnson with a heavy plump, the punch landing a scant three inches above the vulnerable button.
 The crowd surged to it's feet, eyes gleaming, sensing the Kill Slowly the referees arm rose and fell over the shining body of the ebony giant.
 At seven, Johnson was on one knee. his head shaking, his arms dangling loosely. At nine he was afott, left arm extended and his body in crouch-ready to hold off this rushing thunderbolt that sprang to crush him.
 Real K. o.
 As Ketchel hurled himself for ward, Johnson's right came up from nowhere in a rhythmic up percut that caught the charging Ketchel full on the chin, cracking the jawbone.
 Ketchel was lifted in backward arc from the force of the blow, landing full on his shoulder blades knocked out for ten minutes. As they carried the unconscious Polish boy from the ring Johnson leaned over the ropes and addressed the newspaper men:
 "Ah hated to do that, but yoh shuah kain't monkey around when yoh is in the same ring with the assassin"
 In the dressing room they re- vived KetcheI, who by inches had missed knockout over the heavy weight champion. Two of his front