Article of the Week

[pikemojo]

It’s Official Now -- Dick Hutton Takes Over as Rassling Champ

The Milwaukee Sentinel – December 29, 1957
By Lloyd Larson

Funny the way things work out once in a while. Just about the time interested people, obviously wrestling fans, were asking (1) what ever became of Lou Thesz and (2) who, if anybody, is recognized as heavyweight champion, questions I couldn’t start to answer, along came a bundle of information from the National Wrestling Alliance to take care of the points at issue and a lot more.

Thesz, No. 1 on the merry-go-round for years, no longer reigns as champion. He was dethroned by Dick Hutton, former Oklahoma A&M grappler, on Nov. 14 Toronto.

And the way it all came about! According to the Wrestling Alliance (Sam Muchnik of St. Louis, president), Thesz was scheduled to risk his crown against one of his favorite sparring partners, Whipper Billy Watson. The Whipper, sad to relate, was forced to ask out because of illness.

But the show was saved because Hutton just happened to have “trained diligently for six weeks,” as the NWA put it and therefore was ready to answer the bell to substitute for the ailing Watson.

Well to make a long story short, Hutton gave Thesz the abdominal stretch treatment, his favorite “hold,” and pinned him in 35 minutes and 17 seconds (timing also by courtesy of the NWA).

[pikemojo]

It is a 2 Dick Hutton post day.

I can't help but wonder what Yukon Eric's icicle hold was... Sometimes these newspapers just made crap up.

[wildfire]

Great stuff, Pike!

[pikemojo]

Penny Banner (S)Cents Thousands

Big Time Wrestling - December, 1961
By W.C. Shaw

Guess how Penny Banner celebrated winning the women's heavyweight wrestling championship after defeating June Byers last August 26th.

She went out dancing, with wrestler Johnny Weaver, at a Fort Wayne spot for two hours after, what she termed, the "toughest fight of my life."

A real devotee of rock and roll, Miss Banner's two favorite pastimes are "dancin' up a storm and wrestlin' up a storm."

The 27-year-old blond bombshell, without a doubt the prettiest of all wrestling champs, received more than her share of bumps and bruises during the eight years she has wrestled professionally.

During her ring career, which began nine years ago, she has received chipped teeth, had her nose broken three times, dislocated both elbows, had her knee caps "thrown out" and at one time was laid up for six months with a dislocated back.

Penny Banner doesn't hesitate when she says she prefers wrestling "dirty" to fighting "clean" and she has always been tagged as "the bad guy" in her bouts.

Perhaps many wonder why a beautiful young girl like Penny would choose a ring career, and then after having been injured as much as she has, keep coming back for more punishment.

One reason is readily apparent -- the money. Miss Banner earned $13,000 to $15,000 a year before she won the title. If she hangs onto the crown she should hit the $25,000 class next year.

Penny says that being a woman wrestler is much better than a college education. "I get to see so many places in this world, places most people just read about."

Miss Banner says she plans to retire in about five years but until then she intends to keep fighting "dirty."

"After all," she says, "boos are better than no audience reaction at all."

This magazine thinks there will always be an audience reaction to Penny Banner .. . . from the "oohs and ahs" when she climbs into the ring to the "boos and bahs" when she leaves.

[du5tin]

Thanks for posting, Pike. Wouldn't be awesome if we got Weaver in LOW?

[pikemojo]

Frank Gotch Made a Fortune

Daily Leader - March 19, 1902

SIOUX CITY -- Frank Gotch, a young son of a farmer of Humboldt, Iowa, has just returned from the Klondike and brought him with a "wad" of some $30,000. That's what he made up there in just six months.

Two years ago Frank Gotch was a young man just of age, tipping the scales at 190 pounds, five feet ten and a half inches high, his neck large like a bull's, and muscles standing out over his body like the limbs of a gnarled oak.

"Farmer Burns," the well-known wrestler, "discovered" Gotch, and put him to wrestling. Since then the young giant has thrown about every one in Iowa and Nebraska, and capped his record in the golf fields of Alaska last summer and fall by putting every wrestler of note in the Klondike both shoulders to the mat.

When he went to Alaska it wasn't as a wrestler. So the people who saw a young stranger making his way "up creek" from Dawson and stopping at the claim of James Brown were told he was a young miner named Frank Kennedy. He began daily labor on Brown's claim, washing gold dust out of the sand.

One day, in camp, he chanced to wrestle with a bully, and threw him in a trice. The bully didn't tell it but others did. So next day Billie Murdock, best wrestler on the hill, challenged him and Murdock's friends went to the camp saloon to see the fool-hard stranger discomfited. To their surprise, Gotch threw his man to the hard floor of the saloon in just four minutes and pocketed Murdock's $500. Things were starting well.

Kennedy's fame spread. Two lightweights down the creek, Riley and Murphy, heard about him, and put up $2,500. They pushed their bargain hard and Kennedy agreed to throw them both twice in an hour. He did it in half the time.

The miners began to believe Kennedy was a remarkable wrestler for a plain placer miner, but Kennedy just kept on looking for gold on Brown's claim, and let the rest talk.

Down at Dawson, White, a crack wrestler of Alaska, had the papers print under big headlines that he had posted $2,500 for a three-fall meet with Kennedy. The young "miner" came down the creek, took the money out of his pocket, and covered the purse.

The Dawson papers predicted the downfall of Kennedy, for White had a reputation for throwing people -- in fact the Klondike boasted only about one better. Money went up freely on White. The next day the papers said "White was like wax in Kennedy'st grip." He had won three falls in eighteen minutes and about $8,000 in purse, bets and gate receipts. But still he held his tongue.

The champion of Alaska was Silas Archer. The newcomer having thrown the next to the best man, the champion became interested. But he declared he wouldn't wrestle for less than $5,000. That suited the young miner, and the $5,000 was promptly doubled. This took Archer's breath away, but the papers said he would surely win, so he felt better.

The winner was to get a single fall. Archer was not alone the champion of Alaska, but a resident there. Local pride and loyalty to "their champion" brought miners from every field in the Klondike down to the Old Savoy Theater on the night of Aug. 13, and every man came with a bag of gold-dust in his hip pocket. Values run high in the Klondike, and when it was all over the papers said more money was bet on that contest than on any wrestling match that ever took place in the world. At all events men fought for standing room at $1 a head.

Kennedy went at his man with a vim, and seventeen and a half minutes later pushed Archer's shoulder blades into the mat. He won, in purse, side bets and gate receipts, $18,640.

A five-style match followed between Kennedy, Ole Marsh and "the mighty Colonel McLaughlin," as the sporting editors put it, and when all was over it was found that Kennedy had cleaned them all out. Unable to find any more opponents who wanted to put their money up on straight contests, Gotch began wrestling against time for nightly purses of from $100 to $500.

He left the Klondike two months ago with the sincere respect of the sporting public. In spite of their heavy losses the people bad farewell to the young man who had defeated their every veteran, and wished him well. Gotch is back in Humboldt, leading a quiet life again. But his advice to the wrestler who seeks financial assistance is, "go to the Klondike and stay six months."

[TTX]

The size differences between then and now are amazing.

Great article.

[pikemojo]

Meet Jim Londos, Student, Character Reader, Wrestler

Washington Post - December 12, 1934
By Bill McCormick

You know Jim Londos, the mighty man of muscle who wrestles Vic Christy at the Auditorium here tonight? Well, meet Mr. Christopher Theophilus (Jim Londos for short on the mat), the mighty man of mind -- Greek philosopyher, pyschologist, physicist, etc., etc.

The scene is a popular all-night rendezvous. The time is a few hours after Jim Londos, the Golden Greek idol, has finished disposing of a youngster apparently determined to strip him of his "world's heavyweight wrestling championship." From behind a cordon of beer mugs can be discerned two newspaper mugs, quaffing away the sorrows of the day.

Enter a stock, inconspicuously garbed individual wearing smoked glasses and a slouch hat pulled down over an apparently very high brow. The individual is followed by several persons with "hangers on" plainly written in their every movement.

"Thass Jim Londos, the wrestling champion," nudged the first sports writer to the other. "Less go over and give him a buzz -- maybe he'll spill some inside dope on the rasslin' racket after a few drinks."

The two newspapermen present themselves at the Londos table. De beeg chompeen rises to acknowledge their introductions. The newspaermen get set to repress a snicker at the George Givot accent they feel certain will be forthcoming when Londos opens his mouth.

"How do you do, gentlemen? Won't you sit down?" says Londos in very precise English like a college professor addressing a first-year class in physiology.

The newspapermen plop into seats at the Londos table from the sheer shock of hearing book English emitted from the front of the mouth. Londos begins to make conversation.

"You," says Mr. Theophilus suddenly, pointing a finger at one of the sports scribes, "you will make more mistakes than your friend here."

The writer addressed britstles belligerently.

"Your friend here thinks thing over very carefully before acting -- you act on the impulse of the moment. How do I know? By the contour of your head; your manner as you approached our table and the introspective attitude with which your friend has been examining me."

Then followed a long and learned dissertation from Prof. Theophilus on the science of understanding people. The professor's theory on the subject is a neat combination of psychology as taught in colleges and phrenology as practiced by the quacks who claim to read character from the bumps on one's head.

From chracter reading, the discussion switched to theology.

"I am not religious," admits Mr. Theophilus reluctantly. "That is, not in the generally accepted sense of the term. I do know there is something bigger and better than we mortals here, but what it is I can not say.

"There is nothing to explain the sudden transformation in my character," Christopher explains. "Always as a child I was the unruly one, the unstudious one. My brothers, they were all scholars, but not I. I ran away from my home near Athens when I was 12 because my father was stern, a very noble gentleman, and insisted that I study, which I could not do.

"When I was 23, one of my brothers -- a professor in a college near Athens -- died. Almost from that day I became studious. I have never stopped studying and trying to improve myself since. Did the studious nature of my brother pass to me when he died? We shall never know, but it is interesting to think about."

After running away from his home, young Chris headed for the United States. Being a Greek, he had a friend in the lucnhroom business -- in San Francisco. The friend gave him a job washing dishes. When not washing dishes, he wrestled at the Y.M.C.A.

He soon became so proficient that he turned professional -- at a time when he weighed about 120 pounds. As he continued to wrestle, he continued to grow, until he finally achieved the status of a light-heavyweight. As a light-heavyweight, he was the "fall guy" for every mediocre hulk heavier in the West. His inability to win a match became a subject for laughter wherever wrestlers gathered.

Without warning, he developed into a heavyweight and as such immediately became successful. By 1929 he was pinning the shoulders of Dick Shikat to the mat in Philadelphia to establish an iron-clad claim to the heavyweight championship of the world.

He has made his peace with his 97-year-old father, who now admires his son for his learning and studious nature. They have only one controversial subject between them -- religion. His father, deeply devout, cannot understand his son's reluctance to embrace an established form of worship. "Wait," says Christopher, "it may come."

Londos goes home whenever he can to visit his father. His trips inevitably take on the nature of triumphant returns. Last year a public holiday was declared throughout all Greece so all the Grikk pipple could see the No. 1 Public Idol throw one Kola Kwariani, a Russian. Practically all the Grikk pipple did attend -- 125,000 saw the bout.

He was wined and dined by Greek Cabinet members and President Venizclos, but he still found time to drink at the fountain of wisdom that is his father.

Londos is very anxious to enter John Hopkins University to brush up on his physics. The last time he showed in Baltimore, he inspected the institution thoroughly and announced publicly that he some day would study physics there. Which he may do -- as Mr. Christopher Theophilus, student. But not while there are millions to be made by Jim Londos, the mighty man of muscle, on the mat.

[pikemojo]

Jun 7, 2010 23:38:55 GMT -5 @du5tin said:

Thanks for posting, Pike. Wouldn't be awesome if we got Weaver in LOW?

I would definitely like to see that.

It also be cool to get another couple "family" SEs. Like back when we got Bob Orton Sr. & Mike Dibiase. I would like to see Warren Bockwinkel & Helen Hild.

[pikemojo]

Any Questions?

Toronto Daily Star – September 27, 1945

Maurice Tillet, “the French Angel,” has been barred from wrestling in the state of Washington, where the Dukes, after looking at him, classified him as a “freak.”