Evening star., 1935-12-08

uDSlue-QOWn lelL. ABOUT lHe llIIn Ut
sixth time he did this, Louis shot
left at him. And what a shot! The
Negro lad was crouching a little,
nicely covered up, holding his guard
low with both arms. He let his left
fist fly, quick as leopard makes a
flick with his paw. 1t landed clean on
Baer's mouth with a jolt that drove
his head back - and flew back again
on guard in less than a fifth of a
second Speed! never saw even a
featherweight hit quicker. And it was
no featherweight punch that drove
Baer's head back and started his lips
bleeding. No furry. Louis waited his
chance to do it again.
Somehow Max had picked up the
idea that Louis was going to try for
quick knockout with a right-hand
punch He had had his sparring part
ners shooting rights, and he had
polished up good defense against the
right fist Louis seemed to have sized
him up tor this, so he fooled Max by
stabbing him with the left, straight
as bullet and with mule-kick in it.
And every time Louis hit, he flew back
again on guard before you could count
one never off balance, never open
for a counter, always ready for the
next move. That's generalship.
After taking three or four of those
hot lefts without return, Max
slowed down a lot. The surprise of the
thing had him hypnotized; you might
say petrifed. And Louis was doing the
right thing, taking no chances with
this big fellow who could drop an OK
with his right - if he could land it.
Well, he wouldn't give Max chance
to land it, but stayed out of range
until he was ready to shoot the left
again; then he balanced himself for a
few more seconds of watchful waiting.
Before the end of the first round
Louis had timed Baer so thoroughly
that he shot in the left and got by
without any danger of a counter-blow.
He had studied Max so we'll that he
knew just what Max was going to try
to do and then he beat Max to the
punch. In the last two minutes of that
first round Louis had Jared Baer's
head back half dozen times and cut
his mouth and nose. The cuts didn't
bother Max any, but those punches
that drove his head back Jared his
spine and began to slow him down.
certainly was glad to hear the gong
at the end of the round, and see Max
come back to his corner. While the
other seconds rubbed and kneaded his
legs and rubbed his neck to brace it
up against the shock Of all those
punches, he didn't say word.
There's just one thing to do" l
told him. GO out of the corner ON a
run and smear him. Hit him with
everything you've got - and you've
got plenty. Don't give him chance.
Smother him before he can get going"
81 will" said Max.
Any fighter is liable to get mixed up
by crafty fellow who knows the
business of boxing from A to Z and
has speed to burn. No matter how
good he is, he'll only get in his own
way when he tries to meet that fellow
at his own game and spar with the
man who has big edge on him in
skill. His best bet is to dash into him
with flock of punches and take a
chance. Max promised to do just that.
But Baer forgot his promise as soon
as he faced the man with the machine
gun left. At least, he stepped out
cautiously - no sign of a rush - and
began to spar with this lad, who had it
all over him in cleverness. Max kept
his right fist cooked. carried high,
ready to let it go but he couldn't
get it started. Not chance. Louis had
him measured. let him come in closer
and closer before he let go his left.
Every time he shot it home it Jared
Max back, and Joe slid out of the way
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