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esseIIe pARichy, iviiAivii hosT
Pat Comiskey "ofr-slaBe"; Lew Tendler (left) and llrnny Leonard dance a nice
four rounds at the Itrii i-li American Ambulance dorps benefit fight at Miami; Pat
Comiskey (left) with Domingo Valin on the canvas, first round — 2 minutes and 16
seconds. (Leica pholtts hy Parirhy.)
16
Dear Herb:
As I wrote you before, "I have a ship that never goes to sea." What I'm trying to say is: Pat Comiskey, the coming giant heavyweight, from New Jersey, has been staying in the Ships quarters for the past month preparatory to his fistic bout with your California boy, Domingo Valin.
The fight was held here in Miami, March 9th, you know, for the benefit of the British American Ambulance Corps.
It was a very good show all around, Herb. While this is not a very good fight town they packed them in to a gross of 14 G's. I got me a ringside, and it was worth it. Jack Kearns put on the show at the Biscayne Fronton.
I've been housing Pat's stable mates here, too. His manager, trainer, sparring partners, and the lesser lights of the W. P. Daly Stable. There is another clever boy in the stable with Pat. He is Irish Eddie Pierce, from Cape Town, South Africa. He won his ten rounds over Ben Brown, from Atlanta.
This show had Maxie Rosenbloom and Levinsky. They danced a good four rounds. Then Benny Leonard took on Lew Tendler for another four. The Great Jack Dempsey, the oF Manassa Mauler, refereed the Buddy Knox-Melio Bettina ten rounder. It never got that far; Bettina gave Knox a powder in the fifth round.
But the thrill of the night was when Pat Comiskey knocked out Domingo in the first round. It went only two minutes and 16 seconds. Funny how the thing happened— Pats left only traveled about six inches to Domingo's jaw. In the ring, Pat never telegraphs a punch. He just truns 'em. He's left-hand crazy, that boy. Domingo "should'a stood in bed," or should'a stayed in California, as far as the fight was concerned.
After the fight I went into Domingo's dressing room for his scratch. I got the whole program full of scratches. I'm a sucker for autographs . . . you know. I'm saving them for Sargasso Sam. Well, Domingo told me he never knew what hit him when Pat truned that left. Domingo is a nice guy. And he likes Miami.
Sunday afternoon before the fight I went into the ship's quarters to talk to Pat. He was in the lower bunk, reading the funny papers.
"Hello, Hercules," I said. "Listen . . . Pat. This morning out on the golf course a friend of mine gave me an even money bet . . . ten bucks . . . that the California bov will take you tonight. How about it?"
Pat rolled over in his bunk and said: "Who's the sucker? Why . . . they're only giving 8 to 5 that I'll knock him out!"
"Oh . . . this is just a spite bet . . . Pat. This guy I'm talking about will bet against me on anything. He's par-happy. I beat