Nelson v. Wolgast

Standing up straight with thin gloves on their hands two boxers strutted around a ring, cuffed each other in the face, in the belly, over the heart. One was Battling Nelson, lightweight champion of the world, bloody, ferocious, who wanted to win. The other was Ad Wolgast, the Cadillac wildcat, who won--after 40 rounds when Nelson, blind and helpless, lurched against the ropes and spat blood into the ringside seats. That was 17 years ago in San Francisco.

A little while ago Battling Nelson went to the movies, and saw a picture of the fight. When the show was over, he went to steal the film. He had been licked once-- that was enough. Nobody was going to have the chance again of seeing him staggering stupidly around a ring with blood dripping out of both eyes.

When ten police men came to take him to court, he fought them off, until one of them grabbed his arms from behind. He went to court and sullenly assured the judge that he was not crazy. The judge saw two enormous fungi where his ears should have been but these were not, he thought, sufficient in dication of mental balance. Nelson was sent to the psychopathic hospital for observation.

Ad Wolgast has not forgotten that fight either. He lives on the Pacific Coast with friends, ring figures of 20 years ago. Every morning he begins to spar. Pretty soon he thinks he will have to meet another champion. In the bright sun, he dances around a shadow ducking, weaving, driving his long arms to hit a body that is not there. He has invented a new punch to use in his next championship bout.