Remember Jack Lovelock, the famous 1500-meter king to whom Hitler presented an oak tree—part of the Olympic ceremonies at that time? Jack brought it home to Timaru, presented it to the high school, and today it stands 75 feet high in the school yard, as a memorial to this famed middle distance runner who died in America. Then there was the race horse, Phar Lap, known as the “Red Terror”; it thrilled the turf world with its great performances before dying soon after being shipped to America. And Dick Arnst, the world-renowned sculler, had few equals. He was born in Timaru and lived there all his life. The little city that had less than 3,000 inhabitants when the Fitzsimmons clan first settled there, also boasted of a great billiard player, Clark McConachy. A master of the cue, he was one of the greatest in the game. But Timaru bases its greatest claim to athletic fame on the first man to win three world championships—Bob Fitzsimmons, holder of the middleweight, heavyweight, and light heavyweight crowns. The city claims Bob as its very own, although the British have always been free to take credit for his accomplishments on the grounds that he was born in England. The Timaru folk keep Ruby Robert’s name alive with stories about his escapades and thrilling anecdotes about the strength of his dad, the ability of his brother Jarrett as a mighty smithy, and the fighting spirit of the entire family. The citizens—average country people such as one meets in any farm land—are proud of the part their city has played in international sports. They take you to the street where Bob first learned the blacksmith trade, point to a little camera shop now occupying what once was Fitzsimmons’ place of business; the alley adjoining where the horses were kept until ready to be shod; the little passageway, a short street now occupied by stores, where Bob made his start at fist tossing; the anvil on which he worked, now owned by Joe Stewart, blacksmith to the Timaru Harbor Board, and an old building where the sign that was displayed outside the original Fitzsimmons’ horse shoeing establishment hangs with the legend, “J. Fitzsimmons, Veterinary Shoeing Forge.” Visiting the Fitzsimmons’ clan was a delight. So much has been written about Bob and his birthplace—Elston, Cornwall, England—and so little about his adopted city, where he worked as a blacksmith during his boyhood years, and learned the rudiments of the trade in which his fists were to gain for him an international reputation, that if my visit to Timaru did nothing more than to put it back on the fistic map, I will be delighted. Bob’s picture hangs in almost every hotel lounge in Timaru. And you can’t get to first base if you try to convince them that Ruby Robert was a Cornishman and not a New Zealander. Mention of my itinerary to Kiwis invariably brought forth the statement: “That’s where Fitzsimmons lived. We’re proud of him.” * * * * *