Chicago Tribune – January 27, 1951
By Charles Bartlett
Louis Thesz, a St. Louis scientist, and Buddy Rogers, a quarrelsome character from Camden, N.J., last night wrestled 60 minutes to a draw in Promoter Fred Kohler’s mat extravaganza in the International Amphitheater. Each of the artists won a fall, Thesz after 29:45 and Rogers after 41:35, but the end of the prescribed hour found both exhausted athletes unable to pin his opponent a second time, and referee Jack Dempsey was unable to render a decision.
It was the third such meeting between the two, but Thesz, a sound, workmanlike wrestler, still retains possession of that priceless bauble known as the championship of the National Wrestling Alliance. In previous meetings, the truculent Rogers almost garrotted himself in the Wrigley Field ropes, and Thesz took the second debate between them.
Lured by Dempsey’s presence and despite the cool weather, a goodly crowd of 7,536 appeared, paying a gross gate of $17,145.
Thesz, who is well versed in all the formulae of orthodox rassling, had to tear up the book and adopt the back room technique of Rogers. Dempsey warned Buddy several times for unfair slugging, and twice shoved him clear across the ring.
Cyclone Anaya, one of South America’s noblemen, who is good to his madre and padre, brushes his teeth regularly, and eats all of his spinach, almost scored a victory for clean living in the semi-windup. The best Cyclone could extract from 30 minutes of fighting for justice and sportsmanship, however, was a draw with the Mighty Atlas, a thespian from Brooklyn. Atlas won the evening’s prize for mugging and should be a strong candidate for a TV oscar, provided same is ham.
The more feverish patients, many of whom were in their pews an hour before the raising of the curtain, were diverted by a Lilliputian foursome who gave a miniature replica of the work of their seniors in poundage. After more than 30 minutes, Tom Thumb and Sky Low Low scored a victory for their side and the downtrodden when they overcame the dastardly tactics of the evening’s villains, the Mighty Fritz and Pee Wee James, in an Australian tag match.
These muscular mites averaged about 95 pounds in weight and 42 inches in height.
Although outweighed 25 pounds, the agile Walter Palmer of Des Plaines saved local pride by earning a draw against a bully from the Pampas named Ramon Cernades. The South American didn’t exactly follow Emily Post, either, but at the end of their 30-minute standoff, he was glad to escape the premises, Palmer twice forcing him to scramble out of the ring.
A gross party advertised as Hombre Montana, whose name caused Spanish students to translate as “Man Mountain,” lumbered into the ring for the third bout wearing 355 pounds of suet and a peck of whiskers. His tonnage was too much for the meager 218 boasted by his opponent, Art Saxon of Milwaukee, and Hombre finally fell on Arthur after a body slam, and would like to have smothered him except for the referee’s intervention. The time for this dull interlude was 9:41.