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On Second Thought What Are Gloves? Asks Mr. Charles By BARNEY NAGLER MONTICELLO, N. Y., June 7. Theyre employing every publicity ruse at Kut-shers, a lower-case Grossingers. Theyre being nice to press and public, theyre serving fine food in abundance, including smet-ena, and theyre whispering out of side of mouth. Kutshers, if you havent heard, is the roadside stand at which Ezzard Charles is flexing muscles while muscle-headed woce Qoronifc oto of. tempting to muscle in on a few sports columns while building up the Gizzards bout with Rocky Marciano at, Yankee Stadium a week from the coming Thursday. It isnt easy, believe me. Charles, always personable, always relaxed, is always quiet. He doesnt take kindly to the phonus-bolonus, which is a genre apart from his honest bent. When somebody" suggested that he might be angry at Marciano because the heavyweight champion is going to choose Ben Lee gloves, instead of iSverlasts, because of the purely commercial aspect of same, Charles grunted. "Gloves, what are they?" he demanded. Ezzard the Gizzard has been up here for a month or so, trying to get into shape for the contretemps with Marciano. He has worked hard, even if he did appear Indifferent to some visitors yesterday. He has been relaxing while taunting his trainer, Jimmy Brown, and his co-manager, Jake Mintz, and today he was taunting the press. "I guess you must weigh 198," it was suggested by a visitor who remembered this poundage was indicated last week, when Doc Nardiello showed up to flex his stethoscope. "Naw, not 198," Charles said. "I would say closer to 210." The barb was sharp and just as obvious. It was aimed at the camp press agent, fat Harry Mendel, who has been attempting to paint a live picture where a still life is indicated. Not, mind you, that the bout between Marciano and Charles is dead. It just isnt showing signs of life, thats all. Even the aforementioned Mr. Mintz, who is co-curator of the quondam champ with Tom Tannas, has been trying too hard. "I want to tell you something," he told somebody over the week end. "This is no confliction on the commission, but they should do something about them gloves." "What?" "They should weigh them before Ezzard gets into that ring with Marciano," Mintz ".explained. "They should make sure they weigh six ounces, no more." "Wont they?" "Bob Christenberry says they will," Mintz went on, " but I know about a certain manager in a certain fight hadit set up that certain mysterious mark was put on a pair of gloves. He picked them in an important fight and youn know what happened." "What?" "So Im telling you we want them gloves examined before the fight to make sure Charles gets his and Marciano gets his," Mintz went on. "Besides, I wanna tell you something that could get Al Weill excited." "You mean" said the guest, "somebody has kept Weill from making ten cents more than hes making at present?" "No, its not that, bad," Mintz said. "We got the fillum from Marcianos first fight with Walcott. Its the only print they got of the fight and Weill thinks its locked up in a vault, only we got the guy thats got the combination to the vault. So we get the picture and were studying it." "You dont say? Four-star picture, is it?" "Them stars," Mintz said, "I dont count them. But I see this Marciano getting hit with left hooks and were studying the print so that Charles can do the same thing to him." "You mean Marciano got hit with Wal-cotts left hook?" "We seen it." "Oh," the guest said, "just like Charles got hit with Walcotts left hook the night they fought in Pittsburgh and Walcott grabbed the title." "So, like I was saying," Mintz said, "were all in good shape here, including Jimmy Brown, the trainer. If theres anything I can do for you, dont ask." The guest didnt. He escaped westward toward Grossingers. The blintzes are so much thicker at the G. and the smetena, .fepwjgramy.! .
