Damon Runyon

Lancaster New Era/February 27, 1930

MIAMI, Fla., Feb. 27.—In this corner, ladies and gentlemen, we have the pugilistic pride of the British Empire and the heavyweight champion of England–Phil Sufling Scott.

(Professor let us have a little of that “God Save the King” business.)

Over here, ladies and gentlemen, we have the Terrible Sharkey Man, of Boston, Mass., defender of the fistic honor and prestige of the good old United States of America.

(Professor give us the same tune over again, only call it “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee.”)

It’s post time for the second annual muss of Miami. We meet once more under that well-known Florida moon tonight in a nice new pine saucer not far from the heart of the town to see the semi-final of the long drawn-out tourney for the vacated heavyweight crown of Mr. James J. Tunney, formerly Gene.

And before I forget it, let me say that Mr. James J. Tunney, formerly Gene, in the very flesh may be at the ringside giving the gladiators his very iciest stare. Mr. James J. Tunney, formerly Gene, is browsing about these parts and it is barely possible that he may lend the majesty of his presence to the scene.

 Too Sordid for Gene

But maybe not. ‘Tis a sordid, brutal degrading dodge in the eyes of Mr. James J. Tunney, formerly Gene, this prize fighting stuff, and possibly he would be unable to bear it.

However, even if Mr. James J. Tunney, formerly Gene, refrains from attendance, the gathering is bound to be quite a social success. The millionaire inmates of Palm Beach commenced dribbling into Miami yesterday, and a whole posse of ‘em will be in today by train and motor. We will have at least two or three governors on hand, and more mayors and constables than you can shake a stick at.

The red hot sports from Broadway and other points who have been infesting the community all season, and formerly, were running around looking for tickets yesterday. They had laid off the early buying trying to persuade themselves they wouldn’t go, but the call of wild was too much. They will be all there with their beezers in the resin.

I make bold to say that Phil the Fainter for all fiercest efforts of the holder of the American copyright on his endeavors, will enter the ring the longest shot in many years’ history of the sour science in a fight of this importance.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear the boys offering as high as 4 to 1 against Phil, and this sort of price argues the opinion that Phil hasn’t ghost of a show.

Phil Confident Yet

Phil himself, the first English heavyweight since the days of Charley Mitchell to fight on Florida soil in a battle that approximates championship potentialities, remained serenely confident yesterday that he will upset the form. Yes sir and ma’am, the blighter is really confident. It is rumored that Mr. James J. Johnston has hypnotized Phil.

The terrible Sharkey man, of Boston, born John Cuckoshay, or something to that Lithuanian effect, in Binghamton, N. Y., emitted what amounted to a sniff when informed of Scott’s confidence. The terrible Sharkey man obviously considers that thing tonight a mere gallop. He will undoubtedly assault Phil with great violence at the opening bell and endeavor to make it snappy. He is going out there to take a good healthy slug or two at the Britisher before Phil can get his twitching nerves settled down.

“Well,” says Phil, “I saw ‘im fight Loughran, hand hif ‘e tries to chuck ‘is right ‘and at me the way ‘e did hat Tommy hi’ll knock ‘is bloomin’ bean hoff.”

It is hard to believe listening to Phillip’s braggadocio that this is the same Scott who swooned before Otto von Porat on slight provocation. The winner of the fight tonight will take part in final bout for the vacated heavyweight title with Herr Max Schmeling, the Black Uhlan of the Rhine, in June, under the auspices of the Milk Fund, of which Mrs. William Randolph Hearst is chairman. Scott, Sharkey and Schmeling have all accepted terms, despite the poppycock that has been coming from Chicago about the possibility of Schmeling fighting someone else here.

Muldoon Responsible

To the fact that the Muldoon Tunney trophy committee is anxious to get the heavyweight title settled before the end of 1930, Scott owes his chance with Sharkey here. The committee, which is headed by the old Roman, William Muldoon, and the York Boxing Commission, had both nominated Scott, Sharkey and Schmeling as the finalists, and though Scott’s victory over Von Porat was though a questionable foul, it kept the Englishmen in the running.

The attempt to revile William Harrison Dempsey, the Manassa Mauler, as a fresh contender for his old title will probably not get very far, as the winner of the Milk Fund bout is certain to be proclaimed heavyweight champion and if the new champion runs to championship form he probably will not defend his title for a long, long time.

Confronted by a weak “top” Frank B. Bruen, vice-president and general manager of Madison Square Garden, and serving as the promoter of the Sharkey-Scott bout, tried to strengthen it with a sort of international show. He took the bout that the New York Commission kicked out of the big town—Campolo vs. Johnny Risko—and made it his semi-final. Behind that he has Pierre Charles, heavyweight champion of Belgium, fighting Tommy Loughran, former light heavyweight champion.

Also, he has Edward James Maloney of Boston, in a ten-rounder with Moise Boquillon of France, and Raul Blanchi, another Argentinian in a four rounder with Bill Daring, formerly of the United States Navy.