Sport: Don Diablo

Because the world’s heavyweight boxing champion is supposed to be able to thrash any unarmed human, fights between big men often attract huge crowds which know nothing about prizefighting. Bouts between lightweights (135 Ib.) appeal chiefly to connoisseurs of fighting. Last week, two lightweights, neither of whom had any claim to the championship of the class, fought 15 rounds in New York’s Madison Square Garden. When they finished, the most sophisticated fight crowd of the season agreed that, judged according to the bloody esthetics of pugilism, the affair deserved a niche among ring classics.

Virtue of the loser, Enrico Venturi of Italy, was an unshakable courage that enabled him to rise after a knockdown in the seventh round, win the tenth and twelfth, finish the fight on his feet after another knockdown in the 18th. The winner was Pedro Montanez, nicknamed Don Diablo (Sir Devil), of Puerto Rico. He had exhibited the agility of a hellion dancing on hot coals, a punch as persuasive as a red-hot pitchfork. The fight with Venturi was his 23rd professional appearance in the U. S., his 23rd victory. Almost inevitably it will be rewarded by a chance to win the lightweight championship currently held by awkward, indefatigable Lou Ambers.

Devil Montanez started his professional career four years ago, when he was 18. Eager to see the world, he sailed for South America, stayed there long enough to become champion of Venezuela. Weary of beating humans, he decided bulls were more his style, set out to become a torero. Bullfight season in Caracas, Venezuela starts with the famed “race” for novice bullfighters in which bulls, being chased through the streets to the bull ring by mounted picadors, are harassed by neophyte toreros all trying to reach the arena last, i.e., closest to the bulls. Devil Montanez won the race in 1933. Hailed by Caracas critics as promising bull ring material, Devil Montanez became weary of Venezuela, decided Europe was more his style, sailed for Spain. An American promoter in Europe,Lew Burston,had been recommended to him as an able manager. Instead of calling on Promoter Burston, Devil Montanez attracted Promoter Burston’s attention to himself by winning three fights—all knockouts. Promoter Burston appeared in Barcelona, signed a contract as manager of Devil Montanez.

Cool and impassive in the ring, Devil Montanez is impatient, ferocious, temperamental to a degree outside of it. Last week he invited hundreds of denizens of New York’s Negro and Spanish quarter, where he lives, to a “victory ball” at 50¢ and 75¢ a head. Before the fight he had decorated a hall with huge banners proclaiming his triumph.

Italian opponents are lucky for Don Diablo. His most important victim before Venturi was Carlo Orlandi, onetime champion of Europe. When they met in 1935, Orlandi won the first seven rounds and Manager Burston begged his man to get busy. Said Devil Montanez: “This fight isn’t over yet. They’ll pick him up off the floor. . . .” In the eighth round, Orlandi picked himself off the floor three times, in the ninth four times, in the tenth twice. The next time he went down, his seconds carried him out. When the fight was over, Orlandi spent four months in a hospital, was retired by the Italian Boxing Federation with a 40,000-lire bonus.

Admirers of Devil Montanez hailed his clear-cut victory last week as tantamount to a championship. Venturi, who succeeded Orlandi as the best Italian lightweight, last January held Champion Ambers to a draw which many spectators thought should have been a decision for the challenger.