Sport: Good Old Jack

The world is about to sit in on the solution of the ancient problem of what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable barrier. Luis Angel Firpo, Argentine heavyweight boxer, has demonstrated his irresistibility on several notable occasions. William Harrison Dempsey, American heavyweight, has sat immovable on the stool reserved for world's champions since July 4, 1919.

Phidippides and most Greek athletes were warriors, as well sportsmen. Not infrequently they also had considerable artistic attainments. A Greek athlete might have his popularity enhanced by his reputation as a hoplite or a poet. Not so with Jack Dempsey. His War record does not endear him to the American people; nor do his literary attainments. Yet for the first time since he became champion, he is now "good old Jack."

The primitive person of Luis Angel Firpo represents a South American invasion which Dempsey alone can stop. America's attitude toward Dempsey has changed. Dempsey is defending honor, the sporting honor of the American flag. That his defense is based solely on the fortune involved does not affect the public fancy. He is a dominant idol. Never before has he felt the spotlight glow of popularity. If he should fail to win, his goose, with all its golden eggs, is finally cooked.

In a way the fight is reminiscent of the John L. Sullivan-James J. Corbett struggle in 1892. Sullivan was equipped with the most powerful right hand that ever dealt a knockout; he was short, heavy and slow. Corbett was known as the " dancing master. He cut Sullivan to pieces at long range and never once did the great right hand jar the opposing jaw. Skill won the world's championship and has retained it ever since. Now Firpo climbs into the ring to win it back again for bone and muscle. He climbs in perfectly conditioned despite his unique training methods. He brings with him a strange fatalistic belief in his success.

But, most important, he brings a deep respect for his opponent which Sullivan never held for Corbett. Dempsey faces him with startling speed, uncanny skill and a jab in either hand that bites like a hatchet. He is probably not the fighter of four years ago that launched Willard into a pugilistic eternity from which he recently endeavored to return. His timing and his eye have dulled a trifle.

Yet he will fear the Argentine to pieces in the early rounds. The result will lie in Firpo's ability to pick up the pieces. He must allow himself to be pounded to a pulp dispassionately. He must retain enough vitality to explode the dynamite of his right hand in the hole which the champion must leave in his defense before the fight is done. Expert opinion judges him unskilled to do these things.