Six Days

Sport in Manhattan got on its bicycle last week and went in circles. 150,000 people paid cash to watch eleven two-man teams hurtle around an oval board track for money prizes in the six-day bicycle race.

The riders broke records and bones; the spectators screamed contentedly; one man was gloomy. He was Charlie Miller, winner of the last one-man six-day race, held in old Madison Square Garden in 1898. Charles Miller rode 2,007 miles in six days, taking nine hours, 15 minutes sleep. The winning two-man team last week rode 2,522 miles. When one grew tired he hopped off his wheel and went to bed, and his partner went riding on. When Charlie Miller tired he kept on pumping; he pumped until exhaustion so overcame him he fell off his cycle.

The single social aspect of that race in '98 was a brief interlude while the riders descended from their wheels to watch Charlie Miller married at the track-side to Miss Genevieve Hansen of Chicago. He kissed his bride, remounted, rode to win. Elemental social manifestations . of this kind appealed to Charlie Miller as well as to the frowsy "bummers" infesting the upper galleries. In those days a frowsy bought one ticket and stayed all week; it was an inexpensive method of keeping warm; sociable and slightly alcoholic. Nowadays the new Madison Square Garden is cleared out early each morning. Also, society has now discovered the six day race. "Get your gloves on, Shelmerdene, we're going to be boisterous at the bicycle races." That sort of thing depresses Charlie Miller.

Last week's race was won by Freddie Spencer & Charlie Winter. U. S. riders, tying with Faudet & Marcillac, Frenchmen, but pocketing the prize by virtue of a higher point total for sprints throughout the week.

Veteran addicts agreed the race was the most spectacular ever ridden in Manhattan. Necessarily slow hours of daytime and early morning riding were followed by wildest maelstroms every evening. Nearly every team in the ride led at one time or another. The winners were once five laps behind. The stunning swirl of darting, stumbling, riders that follows every attempt at a stolen lap was virtually continuous through the evening-hours when the crowd is thickest. 360 laps were stolen by the teams in six days; the old record 316.

Spencer and Winter, young ones, were adequately worshiped by the throng. The firmest favorite was "Iron Man" Reggie McNamara, rider in 54 six-day races, ending in 4th place. Just behind was one Debaets, Belgian, who seasoned the monotony of sprintless stretches by pedaling around (without his handlebars) squeezing tunes from an accordion.