Evening star., 1941-09-30

Of their worlds championship bout
at the Polo Grounds last night, the
Californian became as helpless as
baby cropping his way in the dark.
The months of conditioning in the
Maine woods were nulled, and the
hours of yogi breathing and stretch
ing were voided. The hands that
had worked so long at the cosm1c
punch, in the hope of capturing the
title, dropped Imply by his side. The
proud body that had cultivated the
dynamic stance slumped into the
carriage of a tired charwoman.
The alert, keen college-trained
mind Of Nova went blank with that
depth bomb below. He talked out
of the side of his mouth because
his mouth was nothing but sides. 1t
was spread all over his face, victim
of the impact. Bleeding, incoherent,
he was led to his corner and plopped
down on his stool.
I'm not hurt. I'm not hurt" he
cried, his head lolling. Il feel just
as good as I did in the first round"
he bleated to his managers. Let
me up. Let me up"
As if convinced, the hands that
held him were withdrawn. Nova,
a few seconds ago magnificent
specimen of manhood, staggered to
his feet, reeled, sagged, and would
have fallen had not handlers
grasped him.
The story of the Louis-Nova fight
is the story of that one vicious,
cruel, all-out, right hand blow from
the colored champion.
For five rounds, Louis stalked
his man. He was cold, he was care
full, he was dull The crowd booed
him. He paid no attention. The
referee prodded him, advising him
to move into action. He ignored the
advice. He ficked away Novas
gloves. He never closed in. He
stood of, biding his time.
Joe's expression never changed.
Fat lips stayed close together. Hard
eyes stayed as Sits. Nova, conf
dent after five rounds in front OF
the man who was supposed to kill
him off quickly, darted in and OUT
a half smile on his face.
Then it happened! All Of a sud-
den, almost too quick for the human
eye. Joe saw his opening. Joe
threw his right. 1t landed, flush!
There was that sound that comes
only when Joe's fist lands right.
Nova, directly in front of me, fell
backwards, and his head came to
rest under the ropes.
"One, two, three, four" the ref
cree counted.
Nova gained his feet at nine.
Every one in the big crowd hoped
he wouldn't. They knew what
awaited him.
As he rose to his feet, Louis came
in. Not in a hurry, but slow, de-
liberate, and, strangely for him,
mean.
He hit Nova q times after that
I counted them. Let's to the ston-
ach drove the Californian's poor
head into the air. Rights and lefts
drove 1t down. Louis beat him
from this corner to that corner.
The referee stopped 1t. The box
ing commissioner helped Lou to his
corner. The Californian babbled.
Out of his mind, out of the running.
The fight was Joe's 10Th defense
Of his title. He finished 1t with
the hardest blow of his career.
The only other punches he ever
threw that came anywhere near
being as terrific as the one he hit
Nova with were the ones that felled
Pauline UZcudun and Jimmy Brad
dock. The one that hit Pauline
drove the Spaniard's canine tooth
through his lip. The one that hit
Braddock inflicted a wound that
required IL stitches.
The one that hit Nova-well, 1t
knocked him back into the class
of also rams.
Joe now goes into the Army.
He'll be the first man whose sim
plest salute will command respect.