Nothing that occurred in the fight itself tended to change my opinion. Sharkey was far in the lead when he accidentally hooked that low left into Max's body. In my opinion, had the fight continued, the American would not only have won by a wide margin, he might have knocked Schmeling out. There is nothing to bolster the contention that Sharkey was tiring as Max grew stronger. Jack was boxing coolly and well. As a matter of fact, he never looked better than he did that night, though some of his brilliance may have been due to the Uhlan's mediocre performance. Of course, fifteen rounds is a long way to go and lots of things can happen, but certainly all the evidence so far produced is in Sharkey's favor. WHEN they meet again, just about the same thing will happen—barring the foul. Schmeling will undoubtedly turn in the same sort of performance he did the first time, and he showed then that it wasn't good enough. It is enough, of course, for the Riskos and Paulinos and Von Porats, but not enough for a fellow like Sharkey. A first-class fighter must have some sort of defense. It may be a defense built on first-class boxing skill such as Corbett's. It may be a weaving, bobbing style such as Dempsey had, but defense of some sort must be there. Max showed little ability to block. He was pinned on a left jab and was wide open for a right cross to the jaw. The few times that Jack let loose vicious hooks for the body, they landed, too.

Some months ago in Fight Stories I wrote an imaginary account of a fight between Schmeling and Dempsey. Had they been together in the ring last June, my story would have been turned into fact by what happened. Jack has lost much of his speed, but still has a terrible power in his fists. Old as he is, if he had been hitting Schmeling as Sharkey did, the Black Uhlan would have finished on the floor, completely knocked out. Max could not have kept away from Dempsey's blows, and those blows would have ruined him in spite of all his stamina and courage. If a fighter lacks defensive ability, he must have a furious, ceaseless attack that takes the place of it. Stanley Ketchel had. He kept firing with both hands all the time he was in there. Ketchel hit so hard and fast that the other fellow didn't have much chance to be aggressive himself. As an example of a light hitter whose attack was his defense, it is only necessary to cite Harry Greb. The Pittsburgh Windmill cuffed and slapped and hit from every angle, and let loose a hundred blows a minute. No single one was dangerous in itself, but they came in such a shower that his rivals were continually off balance and swept away in the flood of blows.

Schmeling, in his attack, is neither a Ketchel nor a Greb. He cannot keep up such a sustained and furious volley. He hits pretty well with either hand, both his left hook and right cross having lots of power. But, for all that, Max isn't a really good hitter, for he lacks accuracy against a man who knows how to box. It didn't mean so much that he was able to land so easily on Johnny Risko and Paulino Uzcudan. They have always been targets, even for less accomplished men than Max Schmeling. It was lucky for him that he was born in a generation when there are so few good fighting men. The Black Uhlan is a strong fellow, but not as strong as Sharkey, who handled him rather easily in the clinches. Schmeling has not yet become a good man in the clinches. He doesn't know all that a champion should about this important phase of his business. It may sound as though I am rather hard on Max. I don't mean to be, but we can't be too easy on a champion of the world. He should be an expert, indubitably the best of all who play his game. But Schmeling isn't. He is really still in the experimental stage, even though he is recognized as king of all the fighters in the world.

I can say nothing against his courage or his hitting power, his colorful personality or his ability to keep going in the face of punishment. These are assets that a champion must have, but in themselves they are not enough. But the boxing skill that would have made him any sort of a match for Tunney, nor a wallop that would have permitted him to meet Dempsey on even grounds. To go even a bit lower in the fistic scale, he hasn't enough all-around ability to cope with Sharkey. Mark my word: When these two men meet again, the German will take the worst thumping of his life. He may be champion of the world—but in name only.