It was the same way with athletic contests, in which his interest was naturally keen. This was strikingly and amusingly evident at the time of the fight between Dempsey and Firpo for the heavyweight championship of the world.
The fighters were in training. The air was humming with excited speculation. The champion, Dempsey, destined later, after his defeat by Tunney, to become, according to the curious psychology of the American character, immensely popular, was at this time almost bitterly hated. For one thing, he was the champion, and the job of being champion in any walk of American life is a perilous and bitter one. Again, he enjoyed the unenviable reputation of being almost invincible. This, too, aroused hatred against him. People wanted to see him beaten. Finally, he was viciously assailed upon all sides on account of his war record. He was accused of being a slacker, of having stayed at home and worked in the shipyard while his contemporaries were risking their lives on the fields of France. And of course one heard on every hand the familiar American charge that he was “yellow.” This was untrue.
Firpo, on the other hand, appealed to the popular imagination, although he had little to recommend him as a fighter except enormous physical strength and a clumsy but tremendous punch. This was enough. In fact, his very deficiencies seemed to increase the excitement over the uneven match. Firpo became, in the popular mind, “The Wild Bull of the Pampas,” and it was believed he would rush in, bull-like, with head lowered, and try to annihilate his opponent with a punch of his powerful right hand.
The two men were now in training for the fight, and every day it was part of Jim’s job to go out to Firpo’s training camp and observe his progress. The South American took a great liking to Jim, who could speak understandable Spanish, and Jim became intensely interested in the man and in his prospects for the fight. Perhaps something helpless, dumb, and inarticulate in the big, sullen brute awakened Jim’s quick sympathies. Every night, now, Jim would come in, swearing and fuming about the day’s happenings at the training camp.
“Oh that poah, dumb son-of-a-bitch,” he would softly swear. “He don’t know any more about getting into condition than the fat woman at Barnum and Bailey’s Circus. And no one around him knows anything. Christ!—they’ve got him out there skipping the rope!” He laughed softly and swore again. “You’d thing they were training him to be Queen of the May. Why the hell should he skip the rope to get ready for Dempsey? He’s not goin’ to get out of Dempsey’s way. Dempsey will nail him with that right before the fight has gone five seconds. This bird don’t know anything about boxing. They’re trying to teach him how to weave and bob when his only chance is to get in there and slug for all he’s worth…. And condition? All I know is about conditioning a football team, but if I couldn’t take him and get him in better shape in the next three weeks than he’s ever been in before, you can kick me all the way from here to the Polo Grounds.” Laughing softly, he shook his head. “God almighty, it’s a crime to see it! Why, dammit, they let him eat anything he likes! Any football coach that saw a halfback eat like that would drop dead. I’ve seen him begin with soup, go right through two big porterhouse steaks, with smothered onions and French fried potatoes, and top that off with a whole apple pie, a quart of ice cream, and foah cups of coffee! After that they expect him to go out and skip rope for a few minutes to get that belly down!”
“But why doesn’t he get a good trainer, Jim?” someone asked.
“Why?” said Jim. “I’ll tell you why. It’s because he’s too damn tight, that’s why. Why that cheap——!” he laughed, shaking his head again, “—he’s so tight that he’s got the first nickel he ever earned when he came to this country. Dempsey may knock him the whole way from here to Argentina, but he’s going to take every penny he ever made when he goes.”
These daily accounts were thrilling news for the others. They became passionately excited over the career and progress of the bull-like Argentinian, and as the time for the great battle drew near they all devised and entered into a fascinating speculation for their enrichment. Under Jim’s leadership, they all bought tickets for the fight. It was their plan to hold these until the very eve of battle, and then to sell them to fight enthusiasts for a fabulous profit. They hoped to get as much as fifty dollars for tickets which had cost only five or ten.