Many things that look queer to spectators are no joke to the fighters, but I must confess that I have often sat at ringside and enjoyed some of the antics. Some years ago two husky lightweights, Hugh Ross of Kentucky and Tom Kelly of New York were pitted against each other in a ten-round bout. When the final gong sounded, Ross was all in, on the verge of collapsing. As he fell into his chair, grasping the ropes, he turned to his second: “What round was I knocked out in?” he inquired. Seconds later the announcer was hailing Ross the winner, but the groggy fighter didn’t realize it. In the dressing room he couldn’t be convinced that he hadn’t been kayoed. He thought his handlers were spoofing. [Illustration: 21] CHAMPS AND CHUMPS Every profession has its quotas of goofs and bulge-heads. Boxing leads them all in quality and quantity of whims, fancies, peculiarities, and idiosyncrasies. The history of the champs and chumps of fistiana is a saga of trickery, superstition, and practical jokes that would fill a good-sized public library. Since the gaslight days when fighters wore skin tights and fought bare-knuckled for a hundred rounds, performers of the roped square—an amazing collection of grotesque personalities—have used tricks that would confound a Hindu fakir, and followed fetishes that would stymie a practitioner of Voodoo. Of the fighters I have known intimately, Leonard, Johnson, and Young Corbett ruled the roost when it came to making disconcerting remarks that enabled them to regain their equilibrium while they were palming off the hot stuff on their opponent. Philadelphia’s Lew Tendler wasn’t quite certain that he had knocked champion Benny Leonard bow-legged in the eighth round of their fight at Boyle’s Thirty Acres in Jersey City, July 27, 1922, and forgot to put across the finishing touches when Benny, smiling, said to him: “You hit pretty hard, Lew. Why don’t you hurt me?” Tendler, uncertain how to take the remark, permitted Leonard to hold on and to talk until it was too late to put over a haymaker. Leonard was as happy as a lark when he pranced to his corner with the knowledge that he had hoodwinked Tendler into missing an opportunity for a knockout. Leonard had another favorite ruse that he’d use whenever he faced a tough opponent, as in the meeting with Richie Mitchell in the old Garden. Benny, while taking the referee’s instructions, turned to his rival and remarked: “Now, boy, let’s make it a real fight. Those fans want to see action. But if I knock you down, don’t get up too soon. Take nine, you may need it.” Of course, he usually spoke so that the ringside scribes could hear what he had said, and that added to the discomfiture of his opponent. Benny’s remarks paid good dividends. * * * * *