We dropped in at the Garden last Friday afternoon expecting to be handed a pair of choice ringside tickets for the Lasky – Braddock shindig. Instead we bumped into Francis Albertanti, the publicity mogul of the Garden, who greeted us by saying, “No fight tonight. Lasky’s got the flu and a temperature of 103.”
Not waiting to hear anything more we turned the corner on one leg and jumped into the office of Jimmy Joy Johnston who was very pink behind the ears and bellowing like a Nazi at a purge. “What can a guy do when the cards are stacked against you?” he roared at us. “I’m beginning to believe this joint is haunted.”
Knowing we couldn’t get any satisfaction from the Boy Bandit we sprinted up to the Park Central and found Art Lasky with a thermometer in his mouth, his managers, Maurice Lasky and Gig Rooney, ready to jump out of the window, and the entire medical staff of the State Boxing Commish hovering about the bedside of the potato picking heavyweight.
“This is the third time in three weeks.” piped up a Garden kibitzer, “that a fight has been called off. Bob Olin couldn’t fight because he had a toothache and now Art’s got a itty bitty cold.”
“What’s that?” helped Maurice. “This is no gag. Art’ll have to remain in bed for at least five days and then, when he’s able to travel, we’ll take him back to California for a month. Braddock? I’m not worrying about him. I’ve got my hands full as it is.”
APPENDICITIS FAILED TO STOP BENNY VALGER
Back we drifted to the Garden and the Johnston guy who was still ranting. “They certainly aren’t as tough as they were in the old days. Lasky goes down with a temperature. Why, hell, Ted Kid Lewis fought Jack Britton in New Orleans with a temperature hot enough to melt a pawnbroker’s heart. He went twenty rounds and then, instead of going to bed or a hospital he danced until dawn. Don’t tell me about these present day fighters. They’re a lot of hot house lilies.”
“Right you are,” chipped in Yussele Jacobs. “Now take Benny Valger. There was a fighter for you. A heart as big as all outdoors. (This fellow Jacobs has been around). Nothing less than a broken leg or a $500 fight could prevent him from going through with a match.”
“In St. Louis we matched to fight Jack Lawler. Three days before the fight what do you think happens? Benny pulls up with acute appendicitis. The advance sale indicates a $10,000 house. So what does Benny do? He wraps the appendicitis up in an ice bag until an hour before the fight. Then the doc straps him up with tape, several yards of it.
“He gets in there and stalls, sick enough to be in any man’s hospital. In the ninth round the referee throws them both out for not trying. A man in there dying and he throws them out—just like a $2 bum—the rat. On top of that Benny’s appendix bursts, but we got our guarantee, so what do we care.”
THEY MARCH OFF TO CAMP AND MARCH BACK AGAIN
Nearly 200 of the costliest baseball gems produced by the country’s minor league proving grounds will stud the American and National League training camps this Spring.
Some are sure to get their chance, but a majority is likely to be shipped back for more polishing after a few weeks of glittering under Southern and Californian sunshine.
Last year a great many Jewish ivory men reported to big league managers but only a handful answered the first call of batter up when the official season got under way. Buddy Meyer and Moe Berg played with the Senators. Phil Weintraub and Harry Danning wore Giant uniforms and Hank Greenberg helped the Detroit Tigers capture the American League pennant.
These five will probably see big league action this season, though perhaps not with the same ball clubs. Anything is apt to happen during Spring practice or on the day the squads are cut.
JEWISH ROOKIES ON TAP FOR FIRST CALL
Seldom does a man walk right into a big league ball park, don a uniform, and remain with that club for ten years. That is what happened in the case of Mel Ott. Mel was picked up by John McGraw, when he was fresh from the sandlots. His natural hitting ability so impressed the veteran manager that he was kept.
Most of the newcomers hail from the minor league circuits. All of the Jews in baseball have risen from the dime-a-dozen outfits. Harry Cohen, brother of Andy Cohen, formerly of the New York Giants, will get a trial with the Washington Senators. Andy, who runs a swanky night club in Minneapolis, will go South with the Cincinnati Reds. He has been playing the minors ever since his flop with the Giants in 1928.
Cleveland is depending on Lou Berger, a second base recruit from New Orleans, to round out its infield. Lou was second among the Southern Association batters, with a mark of 313 per cent in 155 games. Bill Feinberg and Eddie Wineapple will probably be tried out once again by the Giants. Feinberg, who went South on his own hook last year, was given his walking papers after a week’s trial. Ike Goldstein, the former Bronx high school star, will throw them across the plate for the Tigers in his third tryout in the big leagues.
Jonah Goldman, former Brooklyn scholastic luminary and later a star at Syracuse University, played with the Cleveland Indians for a number of years. His erratic fielding forced the club to send him to the minors. He was called back from Montreal, of the International League, when Rabbit Maranville of the Boston Braves broke his leg in a slide. Jonah failed to make good. This year, he says, he’ll come back.
The training season is still a month away. There may be some Jewish rookies who are now awaiting the call to the camps and a chance to show their stuff with bated breath.
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The Archive of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency includes articles published from 1923 to 2008. Archive stories reflect the journalistic standards and practices of the time they were published.
