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AT THE RINGSIDE By Barney Nagter NEW YORK, N. Y., May 5.— Hymie Wall-man, the fight manager, has been known as the Mink for years. Now, along comes the Racoon. The dif ference is money. The Racoon doesnt come within a million skins of the Mink. Hes Lippy Breidbart, owner and operator of Hurricane Jackson, and, when he isnt needling assorted promoters, m a n -agers and fighters in behalf of the Hurricane, he sews coats of racoon pelts down in the fur market. There are times, however, when Breidbart is more concerned with skunk than racoon. He is not loath to give the impression that skunk abound in the fight dodge. In boxing, the Racoon says, a man has to get up early not to be outfoxed. These mornings the Racoon awakens with the sun. "Nobodys pulling the wool over my eyes," the Racoon says, giving the impression he is disdainful of mere sheep. "I got a Hurricane on my hands and I know what to do with it." AAA Specifically, the Racoon is concerned •with the widespread notion that Hurricane Jackson is going to fight Floyd Patterson in Madison Square Garden on a Friday night next month as part of an elimination tournament to uncover a successor to the aeluctant dragon, Rocky Marciano. Jackson, the Racoon snarls, doesnt have to ciuahfy as a contender; he already has by beating Bob Baker and Ezzard Charles and assorted other entrants. "My guy is going to fight just once, in a heavyweight championship fight, and not in any of them tournaments," the Racoon insists. "If Gus DAmato, which is Pattersons manager, thinks hes getting in on a pass, he dont know from nothing. "I know Jim Norris didnt want the match between Patterson and Jackson, but them Patterson people have moved pretty good. They give everybody the impression Pattersons a heavyweight contender without him fighting anybody." The Racoons beady eyes narrowed. He had a thought. "Let Patterson get into a tournament. He can fight the winner of . the match between Baker and Holman, which is in Florida, and then Jackson fights that winner. Only one fight, thats all, because we aint getting moved around so we fight two or three times to become the champion." Unburdened of the thought, the Racoon smiled. He said he had read all the stories about Patterson getting fat guarantees — like up to 0,000 — to fight the Hurricane, but wasnt impressed. "No match is made, and them that write theNnatch has been [ made, they dont know a thing," the ; Racoon said. "Theyre going to have to skin a lot of people before they get this ; one in the Garden. If. you want to know why they put it down that Pattersons getting ■ a guarantee and were going to work for nothing, its their way of making people think Im a sucker and Im taking the Short end. A A A "I got news for Mr. Gus DAmato. He can go fight any place he wants to fight. Lets see how much of a title he can win [ without Jackson. Everybody knows Jackson . is the No. 1 contender and nobodys ; going to be champion without beating him. "Alius I say is that the No. 1 shouldnt t be made to go around qualifying when hes ; been qualifying all the time. If I had guts Continued on Page Forty-Three I AT THE RINGSIDE By BARNEY NAGLER Continued from Paqe Two to put the Hurricane in with some of the characters Pattersons been built on, I would go around telling people off the way DAmato does." Id look .behind me every place I went Jcause maybe I was being followed." . * , The Racoon pawed around in the solid ground on which he was presenting the case of the Hurricane. "Alius I can -say," he said, "is that Pattersons got the press with him. Alius I got is the best fighter. They say Pattersons so good, but he had to outscramble J.oey Maxim in a fight; and lost it. Howd the Hurricane have done "with Maxim?" - No answ.er was forthcoming. The one who was listening said instead, "You know youll fight Patterson after all is said and done." "Sure," the Racoon agreed, "well fight, but only for the heavyweight title." "How about Archie Moore?" the other one said. "Him, hes got to make 175 pounds to defelid the light-heavyweight title against Pompey in London.. Making that weight will take care of him. Hell blow that one," the Racoon said hopefully. He scurried off. There were coats to be sewn.