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by
P. F. Collier & Son Co.Copyright, 1921
by
H. C. Witwer
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Made in the United States of America
As a result of the wide publicity given the half-million-dollar purse paid Messrs. Dempsey and Carpentier for a twelve-minute exhibition of assault and battery, prize fighting has driven the cleaner and healthier sports momentarily out of the limelight. It is, perhaps, not to be wondered that many a strapping young collegian, poring over his studies, sighs reflectively and allows a tentative hand to stray to his biceps. As opposed to the inevitable grind at meager pay before success comes at law, medicine, business, any of the arts or sciences, the prospect of getting half a million dollars within a couple of years for a few minutes' exhibition of the "manly art" is extremely alluring. That the vast majority of professional bruisers batter or get battered into disfiguring insensibility week after week for a few dollars, that the average paid boxer is "through" long before thirty-five, and that most of them, even ex-champions, die destitute and forgotten, is seldom, if ever, stressed by the prize-fight enthusiast.
According to its admirers, prize fighting develops physical and moral courage to the highest degree, even implants self-respect, good sportsmanship, and a sense of fair play where those elements have been lacking, and, in a word, is at all times a most edifying and character-building spectacle.
A notable example of the latter was furnished last July at Toledo, when Dempsey pounded the blood-covered and half-conscious wreck of Willard from one side of the ring to the other, to the accompaniment of a chorus of such typically sportsmanlike expressions as "Kill the big bum!" As to the physical and moral courage inculcated by the prize ring, I have seen punishment assimilated in an intercollegiate football game that would make the average prize fighter jump out of the ring. For the moral courage, glance at the war record of the pugilists as a class. The majority of our own "fighters" went on the "See America First!" principle, and many from other countries, particularly England, slipped over here and stayed bomb-proof during the recent unpleasantness. Naturally, there were individual exceptions. A few American boxers saw service in France, and Carpentier himself won honors as an aviator, but I am sure that was in spite of the fact that those men were professional maulers and not because of it. Again, a perusal of the professions of those who were commended for extraordinary bravery in action will show clerks, bookkeepers, salesmen, farmers, etc.—few, if any, prize fighters. Our most decorated doughboy, Sergeant Yorke, was a minister.
The American Legion was very much exercised over the recent Dempsey-Carpentier bout, on the ground that Dempsey, the war-time shipbuilder, should not have been permitted to represent America as its "greatest fighter." Without going into the merits of this viewpoint, when one thinks that Dempsey, who never got nearer France than the Newark (N. J.) Bay Shipyards, got three hundred thousand dollars for fighting one man a few minutes with a pair of eight-ounce gloves and that the average doughboy got thirty-three dollars a month for fighting a couple of million men for a year with a bayonet, it is not hard to sympathize with those indignant ex-members of the A. E. F.—thousands of whom are jobless and recovering from grievous wounds.
The impression of one who by some years of actual experience has accumulated a little first-hand knowledge of the sordid atmosphere surrounding modern professional pugilism (not amateur boxing)—an admirable exercise and a vastly different sport—is that it is a great thing to keep away from. It is no more conducted with the idea of improving the breed of the genus homo than present-day horse racing is devoted to the improvement of the breed of the horse. To the young, clean, husky youth who is regarding a career in the prize ring with a contemplative eye, I would suggest a ringside seat, not at a championship battle, but at some of the bouts between second- and third-raters, where he would naturally begin his own apprenticeship. Let him observe the contestants and their "handlers," listen to the supervile admonitions or expletives hurled at a battered loser by the crowd, absorb some of the general atmosphere—and then make his choice.
Contents
Round One
Round Two
Round Three
Round Four
Round Five
Round Six
Round Seven
Round Eight
Round Nine
Round Ten
Round Eleven
Round Twelve
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published in 1921, before the cutoff of January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1929, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 94 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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