Ross v. Canzoneri

In Chicago, a regulation of the Illinois State Athletic Commission makes it obligatory to score prizefights by points, ten to a round. When Lightweight Champion Tony Canzoneri had finished defending his title last week against a sad faced young Hebrew named Barney Ross (Bernard Rossofsky) the referee gave both fighters 50 points. One of the judges gave Ross 52. Canzoneri 48. The other judge gave Ross 53, Canzoneri 47. That made Ross the new champion but the sweltering crowd in the Chicago Stadium, believing that to win a championship a man should do more than fight ten clever defensive rounds without falling down, loudly booed the decision. Said Canzoneri, who had indubitably won the first round, been outboxed in the next two, come on fast till the sixth and then traded punches carelessly till the fight ended: 'The decision was the surprise of my life. . . . Honestly, I thought I was so far ahead that I coasted in the eighth and ninth, did not extend myself in the tenth. . . ." Said Ross: 'I fought just as I planned. I coasted myself in those closing rounds.''

A fighter who had never been heard of four years ago, Bernard Rossofsky was born in Manhattan, reared in Chicago. He made the Chicago Tribune Golden Gloves learn in 1920,. Like many Golden Gloves boxers, he promptly turned professional. Unlike most, he won his fights. Last week's was his 23rd victory in a row. All Hebrew lightweights who know how to execute a simple feint are automatically compared with Benny Leonard. Slick little Ross may turn out to justify the analogy better than his predecessors--Sid Terris, Ruby Goldstein, Al Singer--if, as he promised to do last week, he gives Canzoneri, who had held the title for three years, a return match next autumn. Far more uncertain than the light weight situation is the condition of the heavyweight championship. This week's fight between Jack Sharkey (champion) and Primo Camera is actually no more than an elimination bout to provide a worthy opponent for Max Baer, who beat Schmeling. In Oakland, Calif., newshawks last week unearthed another Baer possibly even more alarming than Max--his brother "Buddy" Baer, 17, 6 ft. 4 1/2 in., 246 lb., who plans to become a professional fisticuffer next autumn.

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