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(South Broadway Athletic Club, October 6)


A forearm across the chest that comes from out of nowhere — a tree branch that appears just in time to intercept the limp body slingshotting off the ropes.


Down he goes, and the crowd roars, jeers, taunts, belches. You'd think that after taking such a beating, a man couldn't — or wouldn't — get up. Not so with this guy! He peels himself off the mat, balances his weight on one knee. Then wearily lurches to his feet, only to be slapped silly and flung over a shoulder and brought down hard again — THWOMP! — on his back. The mat makes a noise like a box of pennies slamming against an ironing board.

Now getting up slowly again, as his foe confidently waits. And, THWOMP! Again that sound of pennies.

The victor struts around the ring in triumph, his opponent now quivering like a beaten fish. Or is he? After the innumerable arm-twistings, belly-gougings, leg-pullings, after being thrown through the ropes and driven repeatedly headfirst into the post.... Slowly he begins to peel himself off the mat.

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