weather-weary fan, this was football at its plushiest but it was still football
and this was a football crowd. They roared after each Notre Dame gain, gasped
when Miami began to move and booed the officials on every penalty against the
Irish. When Hornung hit his second touchdown pass for the final 14-0 score
(leaving Notre Dame unbeaten and unscored upon in three games), the crystal
chandeliers tinkled like victory bells in the Sacred Heart Chapel at South
As the crowd
filed out it was apparent most of them would be back—they had already begun to
worry about the next Irish opponent. "I don't see how we can stop Michigan
State from scoring even if we do win," a man said.
If he had known
the two stocky young gentlemen he brushed past at that moment he would have
worried even more. They were Lou Agase and Bill Yoeman, Michigan State
assistant coaches, and under their arms bulged scouting reports on the Fighting
Irish—as seen on the 9-by-12-foot television screen in the ballroom of a
Jacob M. (Greasy
Thumb) GUZIK is a jowly Chicago hoodlum with a long history, unlimited supplies
of folding money and a practiced ease in courtrooms. In his latest courtroom
appearance, in Chicago the other day, Greasy Thumb refused to say whether he
once was a buddy of Al Capone's and whether he managed a bawdy house named the
Four Deuces for Ca-pone back in the '20s. He clammed up when asked how well he
knew a long roster of his contemporaries, characters known in Chicago's
gangland history as Shotgun Gussie, Little New York Campagna, Paul the Waiter
Ricca, Cherry Nose Gioe, Murray the Camel Humphreys, Loudmouth Levin, Crackers
Mendina, Screw Moore, Sonny Boy Quirk, Chew Tobacco Ryan, Fur Sammons, Mops
Volpe, Three-Fingered Jack White and Sam Golf Bag Hunt (sometime bodyguard of
Big Boxing's James D. Norris).
What Greasy Thumb
did admit—in fact it led to his being in court—was that he had been buying up
stock in Chicago's Arlington Park and Washington Park, the latter the scene of
the Nashua-Swaps match race last August. Ben Lindheimer, manager of the two
tracks, has been barring Guzik from the tracks—stockholder or not. Stockholder
Guzik went to court to demand a look at the track's books. Arlington and
Washington are convinced Guzik and friends are trying to get control of two of
the best tracks in the country and are asking the court to halt Guzik from
buying any more stock. The court is considering the legal niceties.
All of which
makes it an excellent time to state a principle: there is no room in horse
racing for the thumb of Jacob M. Guzik and the mob.
TELL ME ABOUT
Did they block
What did they do?
The guy in front of me
Blocked my view.