Sport: Savoldi v. Mountain

Wearing his customary expression of befuddled disdain, 230 lb. Jim Browning last week climbed into a Manhattan ring to defend his “world’s heavyweight wrestling championship” against lithe, indignant-looking Sandor Szabo, the “Hungarian Adonis.” After 50 minutes of serious wrestling, in which Browning broke most of Szabo’s holds by wriggling out of the ring, the champion caught Szabo in a “flying scissors.” Szabo broke the hold but remained sufficiently dazed to fall into it again ten seconds later. This time, when Browning stopped thrashing his legs, Szabo lay still on his back and Referee Arthur Donovan patted the champion’s shoulders.

That was the main event on the card but what the crowd had really come to see was not the title match but an astounding 302 lb. freak named Frank (“Man Mountain”) Dean whom Promoter Curley, always on the lookout for monstrosities, had found last year in Norcross, Ga. Before that, Man Mountain Dean, reared in Manhattan, had been an unsuccessful stevedore, a sparring partner whom Jess Willard used frequently to knock out. When he became a wrestler three years ago, Man Mountain Dean swore that he would not shave until he won the championship. He now has a bushy brown beard, four inches long. He practices against his wife, whom experts consider a more accomplished wrestler than her husband. Last week, matched with Joe Savoldi, onetime Notre Dame footballer, who was not allowed to hurl himself at his opponent feet first as is his custom, Man Mountain Dean gave a miserable account of himself. After three minutes Savoldi butted his adversary head-first but below the belt, lost the bout on a foul. Carried out of the ring by three ushers and a policeman, while the crowd gave loud hoots, Man Mountain Dean announced his plans: another month of training v. Mrs. Dean, a return match against Jumping Joe Savoldi.