The Final Fight of a Local Sporting Legend
Once a celebrated middleweight who drew crowds, Patsy Carroll died in poverty at a Seattle mission, remembered by the city’s sporting fraternity.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Patsy Carroll, a well-known sporting character, died Monday at noon at the Wayside Mission in Seattle. He had been taken there from the Oregon House, where he was found in the last stages of consumption. Capt. Hogie of the city ambulance was startled to see his condition; the athletic muscles which in his day had put to sleep many a prizefighter were wasted until he did not weigh more than sixty pounds. Patsy was born in Seattle 36 years ago and established a record for cleverness in the middleweight class, making him many friends among the sporting fraternity. Few knew of his illness, as he tried to keep his condition secret, asking that it not be said he was dying.
“The athletic muscles which in his day had put to sleep many a so-called prize-fighter, were wasted until the man did not weigh more than sixty pounds.”
This story offers a poignant look at the precarious lives of 19th-century athletes who often lacked a safety net after their prime. The 'sporting fraternity' that adored him in the ring contrasts sharply with his lonely end at a mission, a recurring narrative in early labor history.
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