Kankakee Valley Post, Volume 3, Number 6, DeMotte, Jasper County, 22 June 1933 — THE FABLE OF BEING A TRUE SPORT [ARTICLE]

THE FABLE OF BEING A TRUE SPORT

By GEORGE ADE

©, Bell Syndicate.--WNU Service. ONCE there was a very small and succulent Urchin who discovered before he had been on the Planet many Moons, that no Individual attracts favorable Attention unless he exhibits a certain Amount of alluring Cussedness. He found ont, as all kids of Normal Intelligence must find out, that his Elders laid down for him a strict Set of Rules which they took great Pleasure in busting to Smithereens. As soon as he could sit on a hard adult Knee he was warned that, during the Years to come, he must be Polite, Unselfish, Industrious, and economical. A lot of the Folks who slipped him this rare Dope were illmannered and crabbed and lazy and wasteful, but what of it? Among Parents and Relatives the Big Idea to be worked off on the Youngsters is, “Do as I say and not as I do.” Many a Clove-Eater had told him that when he grew up he must shun Liquor. The Poker-Players explained to him that Good Little Boys played Marbles for Fun, and not for Glassies snd Aggies. Uncle Fred, with both of his Vest Pockets stuffed full of high-grade Connecticut-wrapped Five Centers and smelling like a Smoke House, would warn the little Man that he must never, never form the Tobacco Habit. No wonder Griswold, when he was 8 years of Age, sat down one Day and figured it out, in a Spirit of utter Cynicism, that Life was a Bunk and Old People were whitewashed Sepulchers and conventional Virtue offered absolutely no Inducements to a Lad of Parts and ambition. Even at that Early Age he felt stirring within Himself an outlaw Desire to be a True Sport. He took note of the Fact that all of the Juvenile Paragons who were held up as Models of Deportment to the Ornery Youngsters were pale and had sea shell Ears and wore Shoes in the Summer Time and didn’t seem to be getting anything out of Life and were loathed by the Rising Generation. Early Vices of a Semi-Criminal. On the other Hand, all of the Hard Eggs who could fight with their fists and went swimming in the Crick before the Ice was out and carried Nig-ger-Shooters and had a standing Feud with the Town Marshal--they were talked about and admired and quoted and surrounded by cringing Courtiers. Griswold was groping toward a Fact which has long puzzled and discouraged a good many Moralists. Robin Hood remains a glorified figure, but who is interested in John Bunyan? Captain Kidd has an enduring Fame and is beloved by Thousands who never heard of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Rollo goes into the Discard but Huck Finn remains a luminous Hero whose shocking Vices endear him to Old and Young. The trouble with straight-laced Morality, as practiced in a perfunctory Manner in so many Communities, is that it holds out no glittering Inducements. Griswold, or “Griz,” as he was addressed by his Colleagues, knew, even at the Age of Eight, that he never would be respected as a coming Buffalo Bill or John L. Sullivan merely because he washed behind the Ears and saved up his Pennies for the Heathen. It was understood among the Lads of his Gang that the Good Ones were going to escape burning in Hot Flames but, aside from that, they had no Prospects. It seemed to Griswold that if he wanted to be a cowboy or travel with a Circus, he had better demonstrate an Immediate spirit of Bravado by learning to Smoke. When he made this manly Resolve it was still possible to get Pittsburgh Stogies at two for Five, while a very good quality of Cheroot could be had out of a paper Box, at any Grocery Store for Three Cents each, two for Five, or twelve for Two Bits, so that the foul Nicotine was, as you might say, within the Reach of All. If he finally could puff at a Twofer without getting dizzy, it was because he showed the Optimism and dogged Determination that are demanded of any one who would learn to eat Olives, play Bridge, reduce the Weight, listen to an Opus of read Hindoo Poetry. By the time he was in his Teens he owned a Pipe and painfully tried to use the kind of Language that would have horrified his Sunday School Teacher, and he had a semi-criminal Record on account of playing Hookey, smashing Windows and stealing Watermelons. The Sporting Code of Honor. When a Boy who is brought up in a Refined Home and surrounded by all of the Civilized Influences, shows a wide Streak of Wickedness, some Persons say that he is proving the Doctrine of Original Sin and others say that he is reverting to the aboriginal type and the Neighbors say that his Parents have neglected his bringlng-up. But Griswold and all of the other juvenile Apaches know that they are trying, with all of their boyish Strength, to live up to the Teachings of that Powerful but Secret Fraternity of which every restless Kid is a loyal Member. They are trying to be True Sports because they know there is an Unwritten Law to the Effect that the No Goods will be ostracized, scoffed at and branded as Mollycoddles. Why did Griswold, a little later, put

his Foot on the Rail and try his darnedest to Drink a Glass of Lager without making a Face? Because he had learned that he had to burst through the swinging Doors ami pound on the Bar in order to acquire real Standing as One of the Boys. He didn't have any more Craving for Beer than had the other thousands of dauntless Heroes who tried to consume it before it was driven across the River to Windsor. It tasted like Spoiled Rain Water with a Pickle in it. As for Red Stuff, the first Swig of that was like swallowing a Kerosene Torch. Even after he had acquired the Standard Vices, it became evident to Griz that he would not be regarded as a True Sport unless he could hang up a Performance such as one of the Following : 1. Sit in the same Chair for 14 Hours playing Draw and then appear unconcerned after being nicked for a Month’s Salary. 2. Go to the Race Track and listen to a tout and plaster all the Currency on a Crippled Goat that comes in just before they are starting the next race. 3. Slip out at Night and attend a Wild Party at which great Sums of Money are devoted to the Purchase of Partridges and Champagne for Ladies connected with the Theatrical Profession who were brought up on Soda Biscuits and Young Hyson Tea. 4. Feed the Rent Money to a Roulette Wheel. 5. Bet in a Loud Voice on every Election Result. 6. Never, under any circumstances, express a willingness to terminate a Party and go Home. Giving Credit Where It’s Due. It is no easy matter for a Man who is trying to get a Football in the Business World to perform all of the blithering idiocies involved in the foregoing Tasks. The Point is that when it comes to being a real, sure-enough hot Sport the Rules of Common Sense do not apply. There are certain Traditions and Precedents which must be observed. One must know how to part with a large Hunk of Money and never bat an Eye. If the Money really belongs to the Creditors, that makes no difference. Usually it does. Well, Griswold kept on being a True Sport until he nearly ruined his Health, so now he is living out in the Country and letting somebody else buy Diamond Sunbursts for the Wives of Bootleggers. Some people think he is a Has-Been, but he got quite a Thrill the other Day when he tried to make a 200-Yard Shot, over Water, with a Niblick. He was Rotten and the Divot went almost as far as the Ball, but he was very much pleased to hear a Spectator say: “Well, you’ve got to give the Old Bird credit for One Thing. He’s got his Nerve with him. He’s a Sport.” Which is true. Probably they will put it on the Head-Stone that he was a Real One up to the Time that his Stomach, and Nerves and Pocket-Book gave out. MORAL: Better ride in an Ambulance than be known as a Piker.