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rear. The Goliath fell partly through the ropes. When he disentangled himself, he turned to the referee. “Why don't you watch that, ref?” he bellowed. The fans shouted in unison, “Vy don't you votch dot, ref?” It was a kind of litany. The wrestlers repeated the armlock routine three times, and then the Goliath got both arms around the Idol's head, pulled him forward and pushed his head down. The Goliath's face reflected an ogreish pleasure. The Idol stamped as if in acute pain. I looked up under the ropes and saw the Idol's face, which was invisible to the crowd. He was laughing. The sympathetic fans shouted, “Referee! Referee! Strangle hold!” One fellow screamed, “We had a good referee here last week, you butcher!” Then the man behind me yelled, “Step on his feet!” The Italian Idol promptly stepped on the Pole's feet, and the Goliath let him go. One of the Goliath's most effective gestures for inciting boos was to stand back, place his hands on his large, womanish hips, and puff out his chest and stomach. Another was to put his left hand on the Italian's right ear and then, with his right hand, twist his own left thumb. This looked as if he were twisting the Idol's ear off. After about fifteen minutes of such charades, the Goliath grabbed the Idol by the hair on top of the head and threw him over his left shoulder. I thought the Idol must have cooperated in this maneuver, but the crowd took it literally. The Idol lay as if stunned, and the Goliath fell on him. The referee slapped the Goliath on the back to signify victory. The fans booed angrily, but there was a note of anticipation in their howls, as if they knew that sooner or later they would have the pleasure of seeing the Goliath ground in the dust. In the meantime they would continue to come to the shows whenever he was billed.

The principals in the second exhibition were the Irish Wild Man and the German Apollo. In some neighborhoods, Irish athletes are presented in an endearing light, but not in Ridgewood. This was immediately apparent when the Irish Wild Man refused to shake hands with the German Apollo before they came to grips. The man behind me yelled, “Make it short and snappy, Fritz! He wouldn't shake hands with you!” The Wild Man, a stocky fellow with a considerable paunch, evidently had been in the navy or a side show, for he was almost covered with tattooing. Soon after the bell rang he hit the Apollo on the jaw with his fist and knocked him down. From my seat, I could see that the blow had really landed on the Wild Man's own left hand, which he had carefully placed on the Apollo's neck before swinging his right. The crowd booed frantically, because hitting with the fist is a foul. The Apollo got up, staggering. The Wild Man knocked him down again, with a terrific blow that missed him. The referee intervened and held the raging Wild Man away while the Apollo got up and walked around the ring, apparently in quest of consciousness. Then, when the referee turned the Wild Man loose, the Apollo hit the villainous Irishman a ferocious punch on the breastbone. The Wild Man went down with a crash, which he produced by kicking the mat with his heels. The fans shouted triumphantly. “How do you like that, you mick?” the man behind me cried.

When the Wild Man got up he immediately started to run away from the Apollo, who followed him relentlessly. Every time the Wild Man got into a corner of the ring, he would turn and hold both arms wide, as if disclaiming evil intent. Occasionally he would hold out his hand to shake, but the Apollo, who played his role straight, would disdain the proffered clasp. Then the Wild Man would jump out of the ring and stay outside the ropes until the referee argued him into returning. The referee pleaded with the Apollo, who finally nodded a majestic forgiveness. The Wild Man held out his hand again in friendship, and the guileless German reached to grasp it. Instantly the Wild Man hit him on the jaw again. I saw his fist pass behind the Apollo's head, but anyway the German fell down. The Wild Man loosed a peal of depraved laughter and