Phillips High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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T he Mirror less experienced of the two contestants, was becoming the victim of strain. His strokes were becoming erratic and ill-timed. A tennis player’s most dreaded enemy was taking possession of ‘‘Cotton’’ Burton; he was speedily becoming rattled. This was something Mr. Watson hadn’t anticipated. Barron, sensing this change in Burton, began playing with greater zest, winning the fourth set six-four. Thus winning the best three out of five sets, the “Wonder Boy” was crowned the national tennis champion. Barron, breaking away from a mob of autograph seekers, returned home to find his father in the library. “Well, dad, what do you think of me now?” he exclaimed as he came toward his father. Mr. Watson turned, and looking into his son’s eyes, replied, “If the sentiment of the crowd had been reversed. ‘Cotton’ Burton would at this moment be champion of America.” Barron raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, “Why Dad, you talk as though Burton is a better player than I.” “With your present backhand, that is exactly what I mean,” was the clipped reply. “Son, get up in the morning at six for another tennis lesson.” A hot flush passed over Barron’s face, “I don't need a lesson; 1 can beat anybody in the world, even you. I have done it and I can do it again,” he replied in a confident tone. “And all this running around that you arc doing! You can’t play.” “That is my own business, Dad. and if you don’t like it I can leave,” Barron remarked heatedly. As the ex-champion left the room he said softly, “That won’t be necessary, son; I’ll get my ticket. “But Dad, I. . .’’ Barron dropped his voice to hear the fading foot steps of his father going down the stairs. Thus the partnership of Barron and his father was broken. Barron went wild seeking pleasure in riotous parties. At one of these parties, Barron, being in a boisterous mood, challenged all-comers. This statement made headlines in the nation’s papers. After defeating two challengers for his title, Barron received a mysterious challenge signed by Mr. “X”. The match was to take place in Edison Square Garden. September 15. The tabloids played this mysterious challenge up to the highest degree. A sell-out crowd was to attend. On the night of September 15, Edison Square Garden was the scene of a seething mass of humanity. The people hardly knew the seats had backs in them. Everyone was keyed to a high pitch. As usual Barron received a great ovation as he walked on to the court. The bright lights showed his slim figure to an advantage. Cat-like in his movements, Mr. “X” was hardly noticed till he glided across the court. Mr. “X’s” cheers consisted mainly of awed gasps and deep murmurs. From his masked face to white shod feet—he was the very essence of power and speed. His broad shoulders, deep chest and trim hips supported by staunch legs, made him a picture of physical beauty and athletic ability. Having received their instructions from the referee the players tossed the coin for the serve. Barron took the balls and walked to his back line. At a nod from Mr. “X”, the “Wonder Boy” threw the ball into the air and drove his opening serve with [22]

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T he Mirror Barron’s ego was fanned to a fame; he threw discretion to the wind and became a popular figure at dances, house parties and receptions. Nature was preparing for the coming winter as were the people of America preparing for the coming championship tournament to be held in Forrest Hills on October 24. Barron, feeling himself as good as his father, had for sometime skipped his practice with him. The ex-champion saw little of his “Wonder Boy” who was usual!) dashing about enjoying wild social engagements. When Barron was at home, Mr. Watson usually sat in meditation or walked down by the tennis courts seeking solitude. The day of the tournament arrived, bringing as much happiness to Barron as it did to the ex-champion. Barron battled his way to the finals amidst the cheers of the adoring spectators. There was a tall muscular man. nearing forty years of age, who was a habitual spectator at the tournament. His steel gray eyes scrutinized the “Wonder Boy like a falcon watching his prey. The man’s troubled face would beam with enjoyment as Barron's smashing forehand lofts carried him on to viltory. A frown would crease his brow, however, as he watched his son’s backhand stroke. Nevertheless, the “Wonder Boy was to play “Cotton Burton in the finals. “Cotton , a boy of twenty-one years who hailed from Alabama, had battled his way to the top along with Barton by his cleverness of placement, smashing drives and his ability to seek out his opponents’ weaknesses. Today as Mr. Watson sat in a spectator's seat to view the championship match, the lines in his face drew a picture of troubled thought. A great roar of the crowd interrupted his meditation as he saw his son striding across the court. The ex-champion saw Barron smile and how graceful!) to the crowd. Many were the salutes that found their mark. A few moments later, a small burst of applause burst forth as “Cotton Burton walked across the court. One readily saw the crowd favored the “Wonder Boy . He strode nervously onward. Mr. Watson saw the boys stroll over to the referee to receive their instructions. Then with an affirmative nod of their heads, they returned to their respective courts after Barron had won the serving toss. As “Cotton nodded that he was ready, Barron stepped lightly to the base line to deliver his serve. He threw the ball high into the air and blasted a cannon ba 1 for an ace. The championship match was underway. Mr. Watson, watching his son’s dazzling speed, saw him take the first set six games to three. 'Flic crowd roared its approval, hut Mr. Watson knew Cotton Burton was trying to find a vulnerable spot in Barron’s form. In the third game of the second set. the ex-champion saw what he had been dreading. Cotton Burton drove the sphere in the far corner to Barron’s backhand. The “Wonder Boy with poor form returned to the net. A gleam of satisfaction passed over “Cotton's face. He had found the vulnerable spot. Immediately Burton began storming Barron’s backhand with a barrage of terrific drives. There was a subdued murmur from the crowd as Barron, momentarily at a loss, dropped the second set seven-five. Mr. Watson sank down in his scat, and waited. The third set proved to be a close, hard battle. Barron, playing with cold perspiration on his brow, used his dazzling speed to utmost advantage to overcome his weak backhand and take the set nine-seven. The fourth set found the crowd trying to cheer Barron on to victory. A few out-of-place jeers directed at Burton were heard amidst the roar. “Cotton, being the [21]

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Tme Mirror superb placement. He was again defending his coveted title. Barron had the speed of an antelope and used it to a great advantage, taking the first set six-two. The second set found Mr.“XM cleverly running Barron all over the court by perfect placements. Nevertheless, Barron’s speed overcame this and he took the onesided set six-one. The crowd started to roar for Barron to make the kill as the third set came up. As the roar died down. Barron saw a change come over Mr. “X”. 'I he hooded face was thrust forward on the bull neck, and a low inhuman chuckle came from behind that mask. The eyes became burning brands of fire. Mr. “X’s” movements were no longer those of a tennis player; he moved with the speed, grace and ease of a panther—stalking the antelope before him. He swung his racket with the speed and power of a striking lion. Cold perspiration stood on Barron's face. He now knew he hadn’t won the last two sets that they were given to him. Mr. X started a barrage of smashing drives to Barron’s backhand, winning almost every point. 1 he “Wonder Boy” tried some old tricks his father had taught him, but Mr. ‘‘X’ was always there. Mr. “X” never let up, never got tired, smashing, driving with killing speed. The crowd started screaming for Mr. “X , the “expert”. Barron’s nerves were ready to break. His opponent’s eyes bored into his very soul always calculating his next move. He wanted to scream for mercy. Barron went to pieces. 1 he Wonder Boy” lost the next three sets winning only three games. Barron, wet with perspiration, came forward to shake the hand of his dcfcater. Mr. X” slipped off his mask—the stands went wild. Barron sucked his breath with surprise. Standing before him with his hand outstretched was his father. Barron dimly heard the crowd shouting, Big Jim Watson! Big Jim Watson! Barron clasped his father’s hand in a firm grip and spoke in a subdued voice. Dad. if you are willing. I want to take those tennis lessons.” The look that Mr. Watson returned his son more than said he was willing. It was a look of reconciliation between father and son. —Bruce Wilson MEMORIES With my memories, Memories of old, 1 am weaving a web A web of gold. [233 —Mary Elizabeth Drake