Walker vs. McTigue

Since the world began, big men have tried to justify their size by deeds of prowess, little men to prove that an ounce of agility is worth much ponderous brawn. In Newark, N. J., before a vast crowd, two men continued this controversy. Though the difference in their sizes was barely perceptible, one came into the lists as champion of the big men--Mike McTigue, the 160-pound, world's light-heavyweight champion. Mickey Walker, 149 3/4 pounds, world's best welterweight, stood up for the little men. They scuffled.

Little Walker took the first four rounds. Savagely he tore into McTigue, slashed him around the ropes with rights and lefts, made small men stand up in their chairs. The next three rounds were not so fast; the fighters were listless. The bell rang for the eighth, both boxers dragged languidly into action amid a salvo of boos. More flaccid pommeling, clinching, pushing. A raucous fan began to sing Every Hour I Knead Thee, was silenced. In the last two rounds, McTigue feebly rallied. Referee Lewis gave the victory to little Walker. McTigue kept his title, as the boxing law of New Jersey does not permit an official rendering of decisions. The vast crowd audibly wished that they had kept their money. Tony Polozzolo, McTigue's trainer, leaned through the ropes to vociferate that McTigue had hurt both hands early in the fight, hence his defensive demeanor. Walker's retainers testified that he had a bad cold.