Evening Star Newspaper, October 12, 1930, Page 91

BY MYRON R. HUFF. HRONICLERS of boxing in the years to come will look back upon 1930 as distinguished primarily for two things —injury in the public eye because of too many disappointing bouts, too many fouls and introduction to heavyweight perhaps the largest troop of ultra- game has witnessed in a single 12- its beginning. Tunney, winner of a for- 28 conqueror of the and of the heart of wed his withdrawal because no n as logical Big Parade. Heading the procession of Goliaths Carnera of Sequala, Italy, who stands Inches tall, has a reach of 84 only 19: Medicine Lodge, Kans., the is 6 feet 51 inches above the ground and who weighs 205, and Roberto Roberti of Italy, 6 feet 2% inches and weighing comfortably above 200 VWVHAT chance have these Brobdingnagian boxers of climbing the heights to the heavyweight throne? Not nearly so bright a chance as one might suppose. The physical statistics of men wearing the ermine since the Marquis of Queensbury rules supplanted the London prize ring code and men donned gloves in preference to fighting with bare knuckles is both surprising and illumi- nating. John L. Sullivan, first of the modern heavy- weight champions, was an inch and a half un- der the 6-foot mark and never scaled above 196. Pompadour Jim Corbett surpassed 6 feet by a single inch, but weighed only 187. Ruby Rob- ert Fitzsimmons was a quarter inch under 6 feet and never scaled more than 162. James J. Jefiries lacked a half inch of the arbitrary 6 feet 2 inches that places a boxer in the giant class, but weighed 220, 20 pounds above the equally arbitrary 200 that lifts a man into the Herculean group. Tommy Burns, the Canadian, stood only 5 feet 7 inches and never weighed above 180. Jack Johnson, at 220, was one of the ultra-giants in weight, but was only @ half inch over 6 feet in height. Jess Willard was the outstanding Goliath of fistiana to attain the heights. The Potto- watomie Pounder towered 6 feet 6 inches and weighed 250 pounds. His successor, the never- to-be-forgotten Jack Dempsey, weighed not more than 196 pounds and was a half inch below the giant class. Gene Tunney stood 6 over Jack Sharkey, is 6 feet 2 inches and weighs around 188. 10 heavyweight kings have . THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, OCTOBER 12, 1930, ‘Fate Stacks Cards Aoainst Goliaths “Every Inch Over 6 Feet 2 and Every Pound Above Two Hundred Is a Handicap to an Athlete,” Declares William Muldoon, Dean of American Physical Culturists. Wn.l.IAl( MULDOON, dean of American physical culturists, member of the New York State Athletic Commission, former wres- tling champion of the world, manager of the great John L. Sullivan, inventor of the shower bath, medicine ball, and, because of his 85 vears, richer in experience concerning athletes in general than possibly any man, was approached with this question by the writer. “Why,” he was asked, “does the public flock in droves to see these athletic Goliaths, even when it recognizes the fact, perhaps, that the The Italian man-mountain, Primo Car- nera, who measures 6 feet 7 inches and tips the scale at 270. giants in question lack many of the finer points of the game—lack polish, agility and “Curiosity,” was the reply. “Crowds go to see the big fellows box for the same reason they flock about a sideshow tent to see the freak, human or animal, inside. Man’s curi- osity is inherent. Vanity, too, has much to do with it. We humans obtain much satisfac- tion from being able to say, in later conversa- tion, ‘I saw So-and-So or Such-and-Such.’” Lyttleton Rogers, Irish tennis star, who recently won the Canadian singles title, is the colossus of the courts, towering 6 feet 7 inches, but weighing less thams 200 pounds. “But why do so few athletic behemoths ettain championship status, Mr. Muldoon?” “Because,” he replied, “they are under a decided handicap. Experience has proved—we have plenty of proof that it’s a fact—that every inch above 6 feet 2 inches is a handicap; that every pound over 200 is a burden. “Instead of the advantage the public assumes & giant athlete possesses when he competes against an adversary of normal height and weight, the giant actually labors under a dis- advantage when he enters a contest of any kind, man against man. “Constitutionally, the giant is abnormal, otherwise he would be an ordinary big man, not a giant. His abnormalities affect his every move. He is slower of arm and leg. Nerve and muscle co-ordination is slower than that of his smaller opponent. Fate has stacked the cards against him before he starts. Cir- cumstances may aid him to attain a measure of success, but in the long run his chances of a championship are poor. Too many lightning-fast averaged-sized athletes lurk along the path he must travel to the moun- taintop. Sooner or later one of these brushes him into oblivion.” Frank McCracken, sports writer and in re- cent years one of the best-known referees in Philadelphia, without knowledge of Muldoon’s words, presented a theory so identical it was startling. “The giant boxer,” he said, “is handicapped because of abnormal size, just as the midget is because of subnormal size. In other words, the giant fighter and the normal beavyweight The end of the Dempsey-Firpo fight, when the Bull of the Pampas was put away for the count by the smaller but quicker Manassa Mauler. are comparable to the ILuhhlp and the cruiser. The battle wagon may strike a tree mendous blow when in position. In the meane time, the cruiser, smaller, lighter' and more maneuverable, gets in three salvos to the dreadnaught’s one. “To my mind, Carnera and Godfrey are exceptional members of the herculean class— exceptional because able to handle themselves s0 well despite their tremendous size. “Dempsey’s best weight was around 196, ye§ I believe he hit as hard—certainly could inflict as much damage—as the huge Carnera. The man of 200 pounds or under gets around fast and his brain and muscles co-ordinate a split second faster than do those of the giant. “Dempsey could strike a lightning blow, dazing and devastating because of the snap behind it. A man like Carnera hits a fraction of a second slower; his blows have crushing weight, but are pushed rather than shot ever, Landing, they may bowl over a lighter ade versary, but they batter him to the canvas rather than lift him off his feet. That's why the giant who becomes champion is an excep- tion; he’s too big to be fast and is ever at a disadvantage in the ring with a lighter, speed- ier foe.” Luis Angel Firpo and Harry Wills vividly exemplified what happens to a giant in the squared circle with an abler, lighter foe, Fight ing that memorable night in New York seven years ago, Firpo swung wildly, knocking Demp- sey from the ring, but Jack crawled back te finish Luis in the second round. Yet Firpe towered 6 feet 2% inches and ‘scaled 3216, ‘Wills, standing 6 feet 3 inches and tipping the beam at 210, was stopped by Paolino Uzcudun in the fourth round at Bfooklyn three years ago. Both battles spelled “curtains” for the losers. Wrestling includes more men of the giant class, in comparison, than boxing—men like Jim Clinstock, the South Dakota Indian Her- cules, standing 6 feet 3 inches and weighing 238; Hans Steinke, the German colossus, 6 feet 2 inches and weighing 240; Jack Washe burn, 235; George Calza and Dick Daviscourt, 220 each; Dick Shikat and Ray Steele, 218, and Rudy Dusek, Gus Sonnenberg and Strangler Lewis, each scaling 210. Yet the redoubtable Jim Londos stands but 5 feet 8 inches in height and weighs only 200 pounds. Londos and Shikat never have had any diffi- :lt:ley nu]:ulng Clinstock, the tallest giant of em all. MMORuAGU!huhnhmledwlthbl‘ men, but few of them qualify in the giant class. The height may be theirs, but in weight few exceed 200 pounds. Jumbo Elliott, southpaw pitcher of the Brooklyn Robins, is the Hercules of the base ball world. Elliott, stands 6 feet 3 inches and weighs 235. Not a great distance behind hing is Outfielder J. 8. Jolley of the Chicago Whit@ Sox, who matches Elliott in height, but scalef 218. Next in line is Dale Alexander, first basee man of the Detroit Tigers, also 6 feet 3 inches and weighing 215. Eppa Jeptha Rixey, Cincinnati southpaw, is the tallest man in the majors, towering @ feet 5 inches and scalag 205. (Ceparight. 1930.)