Word: prizefight
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...hooting Paris sirens and the suspense of the six-hour-long silence from Paris were considerably beyond the limit of radio's rules for mystery serials. Even in prizefight broadcasts a fighter may be cut, but he never bleeds, yet from Warsaw NBC had broadcast into U. S. parlors bashed brains, hacked-off hands, slaughtered children. Commentators, necessarily, were far from neutral. The European news reports broadcast were censored at the source, and amounted to little more than propaganda (even though the press printed no less censored news). In addition to all this, the cost had been terrific...
...been there ever since. Meanwhile, Mickey's mother had pushed Mickey into the films. A good friend of Mickey and his mother, nowadays "the old man" is often invited to swim and ride on their swank San Fernando Valley estate, occasionally takes his son to a prizefight or baseball game...
...Manhattan's St. Nicholas Arena one night last week the smoke curdled in a cone of hot light above the ring, the crowd yelled, the gong clanged and the boys in the fourth bout bobbed out of their corners. Probably nobody there was reminded of George Bellows' prizefight pictures except one of the boys, Tony Sisti from Buffalo. Tony, who had been out of the ring nearly nine years, was staging a comeback. Its purpose, which tickled the sportswriters: to finance his own art exhibition this week at Manhattan's Argent Galleries...
...promoting mining stocks, hired a press agent and proceeded to splurge. He gave banquets for bigwigs, planned a $50,000,000 corporation with Charles Lindbergh as president to control the nation's airways,* had a nasty squabble with Claude Neon (lights) over patents, ended a spectacular sally into prizefight promotion by himself trying to knock out Gene Tunney. He also turned a pretty penny floating and promoting mine stocks, climax of which was the forming in 1928 of an investment trust, Metal & Mining Shares...
Sixty minutes later 17,000 polite tennis fans looked at one another in astonishment. If they had been prizefight fans they would have yelled: "We wuz robbed." The great spectacle the tennis world had been anticipating for more than a year had been about as exciting as a ladies' Sunday morning doubles match at the club. Budge, playing below his best, had made Vines, the veteran, look like a chump, had trounced...