Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1956-01-26
ATCHISON'S
ANGLE
By LEWIS r. ATcHIsoN

The hue and cry over Sandy
Saddler's back-alley tactics in.
his featherweight bout with
Flash Elorde in San Francisco
last week puts ring officials in
the spotlight again, and some
can't stand the glare. Every
body seems to think SaddlerI
should have been tossed out Of
the ring for fouling. and that
Referee Ray Flores should have
been thrown out after him.
California apparently is not
noted for good officiating in any
sport. Remember George Blake?
He was brought 5000 miles from
the West Coast to be third man
in the ring with Tony Ga1ento
and Lou Nova in Philadelphia
in 1889. 1t developed into q
massacre with Blake serving as
official witness. Blake was
chosen to assure q square deal
for Nova, q fellow Californian,
but Lou would have Jared bet
ter with one Of Galento's uncles
in the role. Tony used every
thing but a beer tap from his
saloon to stop Nova on a TKO
in the 14th round.
Promoter Mike Jacobs always
insisted on Art Donovan as
referee in Joe Louis heavy
weight title fights outside of
New York, not. as many critics
declared. to guard against q
Louis defeat, but to make sure
Joe wasn't burglarized by a
homer"
To the credit Of the third
man." it should be pointed out
that their lot isn't a completely
happy one. for everybody views
a fight through partisan eyes.
We didn't think there was
shred of doubt that Joe Walcott
whipped Joe Louis for the title
in their memorable meeting on
December 5. 1947. in Madison
Square Garden. Referee Ruby
Goldstein. an old fighter him
self, saw it the same way, and
even Louis thought he'd blown
sit. But a couple of judges. Marty
Monroe and Frank Forbes, over
ruled him. Naturally. they called
it as they saw it. even though
few agreed.
And who will say that Judge
Tom O'Rourke didn't do the
same when he voted AL for
Jimmy McLarnin the night the
furious little Irishman lost the
welterweight title to Barney Ross
in the Inflated Long Island Bowl.
Folks simply don't see eye to
eye on fights. in the flesh or on
Itelevision.
Bill Mccormick, a magazine
editor in New York who once
wrote boxing for q Washington
paper, must still remember his
brief and exciting excursion into
omciating at the old Riding and
Hunt Club. 1t happened soon
after the sport was legalized in
i the District when Mccormick,
complaining about the officiat-
ing. declared that even he could
do better.
The ring commission, headed
by Maj. Ernest w. Brown. police
chief, gave him the chance, and
Bill was assigned to q match be-
tween Sylvan Bass and Petey
Mike. II either one ever said
Pardon me" in his life nobody
heard them. They were two of
the toughest. everything goes
customers in the business and
McCormick's presence seemed
irrelevant. Every time Bill STEP
ped in to break up q clinch a
cloud Of stray punches whizzed
by his ear.
All three went the distance,
although Mccormick never
spent a buster evening in his life.
At one point he stepped back
and said. Gentlemen. please.
Later on he mumbled,
Jaw. come on fellows" in a vain
effort TO bring some order out
Of the melee.
But the GROWING blow was
one aimed at Bill as he left the
ring by a slightly damp con-
temporary. who bitterly COM
planned that McCormick's ref
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