How to become a champion is, for an ambitious fisticuffer, by no means the only problem of his profession. In the case of Negro Joe Louis of Detroit, generally considered sure to win the heavyweight title when and if he fights James J. Braddock, the problem of what to do with it afterward is already even more puzzling. To canny Promoter Mike Jacobs, who has exclusive rights to Fisticuffer Louis' services, an inviting solution of this question was presented last week: a grand tour of Europe. For Fisticuffer Louis such an expedition might have notable advantages. If he beats Max Schmeling in June and Braddock later this summer, he will have trouble finding opponents worth fighting. In exhibition bouts he might be a more profitable attraction abroad than at home.
Well aware of these inducements, Promoter Jacobs had another good reason for cocking an ear to last week's proposal. It came from none other than Jefferson Davis Dickson Jr. of Jackson, Miss, and Paris, France, whose career as a sports promoter long since caused him to be called the "Tex Rickard of Europe." Last week Promoter Dickson arrived in Manhattan on his annual visit to his homeland, promptly proved that his nickname scarcely did his talents justice. As well as talking Promoter Jacobs, long Rickard's right-hand man, into an admiring daze. Promoter Dickson explained to reporters a few more of his immediate projects: a European tour for one-time Champion Max Baer; a European heavyweight elimination tournament conducted under the auspices of the Paris Soir; a series of indoor bullfights at his Palais des Sports, with matadors from Madrid. From New York Promoter Dickson whizzed off to Canada in search of recruits for the hockey teams he has popularized in Paris.
Jeff Dickson is a suave, dark-haired gentleman of 40 who went to France in 1917 with the 17th U. S. Engineers. Because he had been a newsreel cameraman, he was put to work filming cinemas for the military archives. During the St. Mihiel offensive, he perched his camera on a hill near enough to the scene of action to get himself wounded. After the War, Photographer Dickson got himself demobilized in France so he could go to Abyssinia and take pictures of lions. He also photographed war scenes among the Riffs. Then he drifted back to Paris. Armed with the ribbon of the Legion of Honor and an expansive manner, he set himself up in the automobile bumper business which he still runs as a sideline. His next venture was putting prizes—cheap necklaces and silk stockings—in boxes of candy sold in Paris theatres. When the Government stopped this, on the ground that it was a lottery, he used the profits to buy the Salle Wagram, where, as an enthusiastic boxing fan, he hoped to improve the bouts.