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Slants on Sports

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Last Saturday afternoon we experienced a new thrill in the world of sports. This time, however, we were able to participate as well as observe. For the first time in our long career in sports we rode, nay skimmed, over the blue waters of Long Island Sound in a sleek, trim yacht. And to cap the climax, our boat, the White Flash, led the twenty-four other sailboats over the triangular course to a fast finish and a first place.

“Captain” Jesse Fisher, one of the best-known Jewish navigators in New York waters, invited us along to watch how his thirty-foot boat sets the pace for yachts of its kind in metropolitan waterways.

Leaving the Larchmont starting line the White Flash soon had her jib and mainsail up and aided by a strong southern breeze we spanked over the bounding main as if we were built for the wind. However, our skipper wasn’t taking unnecessary chances and held the lead with all the skill at his command.

As we glided over the sparkling waves we would get the wet, cooling wind-blown spray right in our faces. It was not until the second time around the course that we ran into anything that resembled rough weather. To a landlubber like your sports commentator the rocking, the tossing, and the pitching of our frail, little craft seemed the last roundup. But to our seasoned “captain,” the strong breeze was just a “whistling winder” that would cinch the race for the White Flash.

We asked the skipper when we would take to the lifeboats and he just laughed, howled and roared, In fact he guffawed with such gusto that the boat increased its speed due to the added wind. Jesse Fisher then told us of the activities on the oceanways the day before. It seemed that a whistling squall piped up due to the oppressive heat just as the boats, 237 of them, were heading down the home stretch. Most of the boats had their lees smothered in foam and were churning the white water in their wakes. Two boats capsized and old Popeye was swamped.


However, the strong breeze blew itself out and the prevailing southerly wind filled our sails to what seemed to us almost the bursting capacity. Our speed picked up and we soon heard the wind whistling in the sailtops. We were about twenty yards ahead of the closest boat at the time. Something went wrong with our competitor’s mainsail and that left us well out in front and ahead of the pack. We breezed in a winner by five minutes in front of the Silver Slither, owned and navigated by F. P. Melvin.

This is the sport for us from now on. As soon as we can corner the city editor we’ll ask him for a special department on boats so we can ride in these bobbyboats more often. There’s nothing like it, especially if one has never sailed before.


Art Lasky is one of the many heavyweight boxing sluggers in the fight game today. But, in our estimation, Art is different from the rest of the cauliflowered flock. Art is up and coming with a punch in both his fists, a good pair of legs under him, and a fine sense of ring technique that has taken him places already.

Only a short time ago Lasky, a Jewish youngster from Minneapolis, defeated the Chicago Assassin, sometimes known as the Windy City Walloper, Kid Krakow, and the Old Fish Peddler. In other words he knocked King Levinsky back to the fish stalls where he belongs.

The first fight between Levinsky and Lasky was scheduled for two months ago. However, the protege of Leaping Lena Levy suddenly developed cold feet, which in medical parlance is sometimes known as a nervous breakdown. He ran out on the first fight and was discovered by a couple of newspaper boys in a Chicago hospital being fed chicken broth by his sister-manageress.

Doctors said that Levinsky would not be able to fight for some time. He had lost the enormous poundage of thirty-two ounces. Nevertheless, a statement issued by the California, Illinois, New York and Pennsylvania boxing commissions made the King pack his grip and hurry back to Los Angeles to fulfill his contract with Art Lasky.

The fight was played up on the coast. Two Jewish heavyweight contenders fighting it out for honors. Well, all that was the publicity gag. The boxing boys knew that one punch from Lasky on Levinsky’s glass chin would shatter all the plate glass in Pittsburgh. And so it happened.

Now that the Levinsky-Lasky scrap is burlesque history, Lasky has issued a challenge to Baer. All we can say is that Lasky is very lucky Baer has decided not to don the gloves for a year. Lasky is not in the same class with the champ and in fact he doesn’t attend the same school.

Nevertheless we say that in a year or two we’ll be hearing things about Art Lasky, the Jewish fighter from Minneapolis.


Vanka Zelezniak, the Siberian Wildman, will meet Gino Garibaldi tomorrow night in the feature finish attraction. The Russian is known for his rough and ready ring tactics, but in the Italian he meets a leading grappler.

Marshall Blackstock and Pat Newman get together in a forty-five minute foray in the semi-final. Three thirty-minute tussles round out the card, Gene Bruce vs. the Masked Marvel, Bert Rubi vs. Jim Atlas, and George Hagen vs. Gene LaDeux.


Everett Marshall trades holds with Buck Weaver in the special attraction which features Rudy Dusek and George Hagen.

Incidentally, watch our column Wednesday for a little showdown on this wrestling racket.


Kid Chocolate has stepped up a weight division. After suffering defeat at the hands of Peady Hayes a week or so ago at Ebbets Field, Chocolate is facing Buster Brown of Baltimore in the lightweight class tomorrow. The Cuban Bon Bon says if he loses this fight he’ll hang up the gloves forever. Buster Brown recently held Tony Falco to a draw.

The Brown-Chocolate battle tops an exceptionally attractive card. Besides this bout there are thirty-four other rounds of boxing, with such pugs as Ray Napolitano, Eddie Ran, Teddy Loder and Pacho.

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