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■ — : , ; On Second Thought O/son Is Really The Quiet Man -* By BARNEY NAGLER NEW YORK, N. Y., June 1.— Next time you read a windy interview with Bobo Olson, the middleweight champion, put it down to one mans imagination. It cant be so. The spare-haired ring hustler from Honolulu by way of San Francisco, just doesnt talk. Hes as laconic with words as he is thrifty with punches. Man doesnt open his mouth except to eat. Thats just what hell be doing at Toots place Thursday noon. Hes going to be welcomed to town, before moving down to Asbury Park, by way of lighting a fire under the impending incident with Archie Moore, the light-heavyweight champion. If Olson were faced with a war of words, Moore would come out of it the winner. Hed be an out favorite going in, arid Olson would come out bearing the gaudiest cauliflowers since Cain heaved a few in Abels direction. Inasmuch as punches, not words, will be involved, Olson has a chance. Mind you, not that Moore isnt regarded as the favorite here. The old man from: St. Louis is hampered by weight and age. This is a handicap match for him inasmuch as he must slim down to 175 pounds. You can expect, in the two days remaining* before they climb into the ring at the Polo Grounds, to hear more about Moores weight than about Frankie Carbos morals. Conjecture over Moores poundage will I use up 112 tons of printers ink, 1,912 tons of newsprint, 1,231 in telegraph fees, 3,812 in telephone fees and eardrums of at least 28 fight writers on the hoof. Variously, the readers will be exposed to reports that 1 he is making the weight easily and 2 isnt making the weight at all. = On alternate days Moore will be pre.-sented as a skeletal version of the doughty warrior, giving his fatty tissue in the cause of financial gain and fistic aggrandizement. In between, the light - heavyweight champ will be delineated in print as a thorough-going killer, replete with knives for gloves, and Olson will be pitied as a little man being led to the butchers block. Through it all Olson will not say a word. Indeed, At is pick em that along the way hell turn so irascible, fight writers will complain, at Asbury Park, that he is an anti-social fellow who doesnt deserve any attention. Two days before the bout Olsons manager, Sid Flaherty, will insist that* his gamecock is all through not talking to the press and, please, would the journalists stop bothering Olson because, having said nothing in the first place, he was going to continue that way, only in privacy. He likes to hear himself not speak. Flaherty himself will not help the cause because he has pursued a singleness of policy all the way. He guarantees to say twice as much as Olson, which is a big cipher no matter how you phrase it. Olson will be described as inscrutable, saturnine, silent, wordless, windless and word-stingy. A poet among the journalists will come along and coin a phrase. Hell say, heaven forfend, that Olson does all his talking in the ring-, with bis fists, and an innocent reader will regard this is a literary achievement. i All this will have nothing whatever to do with the fight because, in its basic dimensions, there is nothing more important in a match than what happens in the ring. This will not hamper the historians of jolt, however, because its a living, aint it, and whats a guy going to do except clean streets, for which he isnt trained? In the end. nothing will be proved except the matter of supremacy between Olson and Moore. Some venturers will be enriched because they not only picked the winner, but backed their choice with cash. Jim Norris will take away a tidy profit. More beer and lotions will be sold by the TV sponsors. Moore will take away a tidy purse; so will Olson. Hell fly away silently, as he. jflew. jn,, .np£ .paying ,a. word. Hes really the quiet man.
