Word: middleweights
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...Griffith; Judge David Zenoff had it 71-70 Rodriguez; Judge John Romero 70-68 Griffith. By the narrowest of split decisions, Griffith had kept his crown. Said Luis: "If I can't win this title back, I'll just have to win the middleweight championship instead...
Last week's production of Ruddigore was a well-chosen and well-performed presentation. Although never a favorite with the Victorian audience (who considered its sanguinary title a bit close to the bone), Ruddigore is a good example of middleweight G. and S. with Glibert's jibes at Gothic melodrama complemented by some wonderfully quasi-Wagnerian effects by Sullivan. Purists might object to Director Robert Gibson's use of the shorter and weaker of the two second act finales extant and to his omission of the charming duet, "The Battle's Roar Is Over," but by any standards the production...
...earned $15,000 a week tap-tapping across a nightclub stage were rubbery now, and the speed was gone from the fists that won 153 fights and six world championships. In Philadelphia's Convention Hall last week, Sugar Ray Robinson, 43, meekly absorbed the taunts of beetle-browed Middleweight Joey Giardello, 32. "Boy, are you getting old," gibed Giardello. "Hah!" he laughed, when Robinson threw a pawing punch. "I was waitin' for that...
...Downright Spongy." At his press conference, John F. Kennedy showed unmistakably that he, too, is thinking ahead to 1964. He strode to the microphones with the springy belligerence of a middleweight boxer. A note of impatience ran through his answers to reporters' early questions, as if he could hardly wait for a subject really worth punching. Then a reporter asked him whether he cared to comment on a letter that Dwight Eisenhower recently sent to Indiana's House Minority Leader Charlie Halleck. Eisenhower's letter urged "major surgery" on Kennedy's spending plans. The Administration...
...hooked on boxing; he was so self-deluded about it that he told a friend, "My writing is nothing. My boxing is everything." Though he was seven years older, he had known Morley back when they were both reporters on the Toronto Star. He and Morley, a competent amateur middleweight, liked to box together. It was as simple as that, but Scott felt "pushed aside and not needed." One fatal day he wangled himself in as timekeeper at one of the regular Hemingway-Callaghan bouts. The trouble lay with Scott-so bemused by literary hero worship that he forgot...