I first met Mike when he had his little ticket office in the Hotel Normandie on Sixth Avenue and Twenty-eighth Street in New York City and I was a cub reporter covering the Red Light District for news and the Longacre A.C. fights. The latter, owned by colorful Billy Newman, was on Twenty-ninth Street and the corner of Sixth Avenue, the scene of many thrilling contests. Jacobs achieved domination of boxing, which was Rickard’s dream but beyond his mental capabilities. Both Tex and Mike on many occasions conferred with me concerning important matches, and I had a big hand in starting negotiations for both of them in international bouts or championship contests. Often, long before his staff would arrive in his Garden offices to begin the day’s work, Mike completed his plans for major matches in _The Ring_ headquarters, where we met almost daily at seven-thirty in the morning. Pursuing the Rickard-Jacobs comparison, as I had an opportunity to study the pair at close range, I found that Uncle Mike never made the glaring mistakes which stand out in Tex’s biography. When Jacobs vacated his throne because of illness, boxing lost a master manipulator. A big figure in the boxing game had passed out of the picture! Another big organization, such as Rickard had left behind, died. Another rich chapter in boxing history had been written. Rickard had his Jack Dempsey; Jacobs had his Joe Louis. When the Manassa Mauler knocked out Jess Willard in three rounds at Toledo, Tex had the champion whose crowd appeal created the first of the million dollar gates and made it possible for the promoter to finance and build Madison Square Garden. When Louis knocked out James J. Braddock in eight rounds at Chicago, Mike had the champion whose popularity brought back the million dollar gates, and made it possible for Jacobs to move into Madison Square Garden. * * * * * The similarity between Rickard’s relationship with Dempsey and Jacobs’ with Louis is striking. Jacobs was a successful promoter for the Hearst Milk Fund shows before he met Joe Louis. I had seen Louis in several of his amateur bouts in the West. I watched him in the National AAU championships in Boston and recognized a future world title holder. Then I saw him three times in professional fights in the Mid-West, and came back to New York raving about the young Negro whose clouting ability was a reminder of the early days of Dempsey. Several of my editorials about Louis attracted the attention of Damon Runyon. I was working for Jacobs on a radio program and, following a broadcast, Runyon, one of Mike’s partners in the New York Hippodrome, cornered me and asked: “Just how good a fighter is Louis?”