Imperial Valley press., 1937-06-23

CHICAGO, June %. tUP) - IN
Germany executioners wear silk
toppers and knock off the victims
head with an axe OF FURNISHED
steel.
In France they go in for white
ties, tails, and guillotine.
But over here We are simple folk,
without frills. Our head execution
er, one Joe Louis, just Slips on a
pair of purple tights, shuffles his
feet a few times and lashes out
with nut-broWn fists, bundled in
to cement hardness.
Louis gave a public demonStra-
ton in Comiskey Park last night,
and the IS 900 sadists who watched
will swear to his effectiveness. They
will tell you that his fists fall
with the deadliness of the axe and
the big blade and they will be
right-for they do.
The right hand that smashed
against the face of James Braddock
in the eighth round was a deyas-
tating a blow as any man ever
threw. 1t caught the Irishman
flush on the bulls-eye of his chin
and all but knocked the life out
Or him. He fell as does a man when
struck by IA slug.
Under the impact Braddock
pitched on his face, arms and legs
folded beneath him. The time
keepers count was but a gesture.
Left alone Braddock might well
have lain in the ring until it
rotted and rusted and fell away.
He never twitched a muscle, out
Just lay there, 1877 pounds of COM
plete paralysis. 1t required four
men-two at his feet, two at his
head-to carry him back to his
corner where, placed on a STOOL
he sagged forward until the blood
from his mouth and eyes dripped
on the tips of his shoes.
Every ounce of power in Joe
Louis body rode behind that punch.
1t wasn't quick punch-he set
himself for it methodically, drew a
bead on his target, before he un-
loosed it. 1t happened directly in
front of me and no more than
five steps away, and I saw him
gather himself for the blow that
brought him the heavyweight
championship of the world.
He came down off his toes and
settled himself squarely on the
flat of his feet-the perfect stance
for the everything-goes-now blow.
He gathered the muscles in his
smooth, sloping shoulders, drew
back and, with magnificent tim
ing, let his right fist fly. 1t gained
added power from the fact that it
| Travelled downward. Braddock, near
collapse, was in groggy crouch,
and his jaw was perhaps foot
lower than Louis shoulders.
When fist met jaw there wasn't
a crash-just sharp "clickP' OF
the sort golfer hears when he
hits a perfect drive. With the
impact Louis - knowing he had
made a perfect hit-stepped back
! to give his victim room in which
to fall. He was SO positive of the
blows effect he did not stand ready
/ to charge in. He moved away, and
when Braddck poured to the floor,
stood there and admired his ham
diWork
1t wasn't pretty handiwork. 1t
was sickening. Wnen they rolled
Braddock over deep purple cash
on his lip was he first thing you
noticed. 1t was vicious cut-the
same kind that Louis gave weary
old Pauline Uzcuiun when he
forgot and poked his head from
behind the sheltering protection of
his arms. Braddock was bleeding
| from sliced left eyebrow, torn
right ear, and a swollen nose. His
chest was smeared with blood, and
his arms were daubed with red.
The Jersey veteran was a game
guy all done in. For nearly seven
and half rounds he had fought
the only way he knew how-walk-
ing in swinging walking in swing
| ing.
He must have taken a thousand
punches short jabs to the face,
nastily curved little hooks to the
body, uppercuts that all but scared