“That sweater, Nat,” he said, “has been with me ever since I began fighting. I bought it in St. Louis out of my first ring earnings, and I have never been beaten while wearing it. Once I left it off and lost the decision.” Jack handed the tattered garment to me for inspection. It was certainly an odd fetish for one of the best-dressed boxers of modern times. “You may laugh at me, Nat,” he went on, “but that old sweater brought me luck against Fred Fulton, Carl Morris, Bill Brennan, and Georges Carpentier, and I’m sticking to it—to the last thread.” I didn’t laugh, because I have often thought that fighters in the heat of battle get a clearer insight into the nature of things than most of us. Just before Dempsey left his dressing room for his memorable fight with Luis Firpo, “Doc” Kearns decided that Dempsey was so invincible that he no longer needed his lucky garment. I was at the ringside and saw Jack climb into his corner. He was wearing a brand-new white sweater with which he’d entered the ring. “Here, Doc, take this,” he said. “I don’t want to see it again. For my next bout give me that old sweater you wouldn’t let me wear tonight. That Firpo fellow nearly put me out because I didn’t wear that sweater.” * * * * * Many Catholic fighters cross themselves before the first gong. Johnny Summers, star British boxer, among others, always took a rosary into the ring. When Harry Wills, the ebony-skinned New York heavyweight, fought Jack Sharkey, both fighters were asked to say a few words to the radio audience before the bout started. Sharkey obliged by shouting into the microphone: “I’ll whip Wills tonight. I’ll knock the bozo out!” “Harry, will you say something?” asked the announcer. “Sorry,” replied Wills, “I’m superstitious. I never say anything before a fight. It brings me bad luck.” But when the fight was over and Wills had been declared the loser on a foul, he rushed to the mike and cut loose with a barrage against referee Patsy Haley, who had disqualified him. * * * * * Bob Fitzsimmons was very superstitious. “Nat,” he said, “I’ve often heard people ridicule others who told them of a dream that affected their careers. I believe in dreams as I do in the Gospel, and my reason for this strong feeling is that almost every dream I have had has come true. “More than ten years ago, the night before my fight with Jim Jeffries on Coney Island, I dreamed I was fighting a tough battle, and that I was knocked out. When I got up in the morning I told my wife about the dream. “‘Rose,’ I said, ‘I’m afraid it’s all over. I’m going to lose my championship.’ “‘Don’t be silly, Bob,’ she said. ‘What makes you say such things?’ “I told her of the dream I had had the previous night. “‘I shall lose all right, Rose. I’ve never known a dream of mine not to come true.’ “You know what happened, Nat. I lost the championship to Big Jeff in the eleventh round.”