Damon Runyon - Damon Runyon Favorites

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Text originally published in 1942 under the same title.

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FAVORITES

by

DAMON RUNYON

With a Foreword by

WALTER WINCHELL

Contents

ASK any of us who jot down notes for the various gazettes in New York our idea of a big-time, first-rate, Grade-A reporterand eleven times out of ten, the retort will be Damon Runyon!

Because, among other things, Runyon is the most exciting and spellbinding of historianswhether his assignment is the Kentucky Derby, the Madison Square Garden farces, the current murder mystery, or the sitchee-ay-shun in the Orient.

Damon, I mean to report, ( oh, get your story in the first paragraph, Winchell! ) possesses all the necessary attributes that go to make the guy the rest of us on the staff wish we were. He has that manner about him, for one thing. He looks like a star newspapermannot anything like the counterfeiters youve witnessed in the editorial rooms of the newspaper in the kodak amusements. ( I dont mean you, Lee Tracy! )

He was content, until recently, it appears, to rest on his laurels as a sports chronicler for the more widely read journals throughout the country. When you discussed sports and sports expertsyou naturally discussed Damon Runyon. Youd think a fellow who enjoyed that distinction would let it go at that.

Then suddenly like an old Dempsey left hookhe startled his best critics and severest friends with magazine articles. The sort that not only were read and enjoyed, but the sort that tilted circulation. From these delightfully comical stories about Broadway, the prize ring and the bandittiembroidered in a language rich with stylecame a book by Damon called Guys and Dolls.

Yetwith all the grand pieces Damon has done for the editorsI suspect he will never be forgotten for his thrilling document on Sande, the jockey of his time. The one line in it that always got me was Gimme a handy guy like Sande bootin those winners home! It has the tempo of the winner in the race. But so has everything he paragraphs.

For the benefit of future historians, Damon Runyon is a coffee fiend. From ten to fifteen cups at a sitting. His one weakness is snappy clothes, and there is a race horse bearing his tag, which, however, isnt as fleet as the one christened for his lovely bride, Patrice.

He actually makes wagers on the ring fighters he picks to win in his columns. (No wonder, he has so many side-lines. Probably to pay off!) He once observed: If you have two friendson Broadwayconsider yourself a success! From that manner of figuringthen Runyon is a millionaire.

The outlaws on both coasts, who respect his opinions on sports, also respect his articles on crime. The lethal sock he packs in his pillars of pithy patter for the paperhas driven mobsters out of New York faster than an extra girl in Hollywood says Yes.

His initial screen achievement was an incessantly robust laugh-provoker named Lady for a Day. But this is the lustiest of the laughs about that grand flicker. An Academy in Hollywood awards prizes annually for the best this and that. Lady for a Day copped three of them. One prize went to the directoranother to the adaptersand the third to the star. Damon Runyon, the author, didnt rate a nod! Haw!!!!!

Then came his Little Miss Marker which the critics acclaimed. Dont tell anybody you missed it. Because youll be listed among the clunks.

And now, frankly, I think Ive been on too long. The next act is much better.

WALTER WINCHELL

ONE evening along about seven oclock I am sitting in Mindys restaurant putting on the gefillte fish, which is a dish I am very fond of, when in comes three parties from Brooklyn wearing caps as follows: Harry the Horse, Little Isadore and Spanish John.

Now these parties are not such parties as I will care to have much truck with, because I often hear rumors about them that are very discreditable, even if the rumors are not true. In fact, I hear that many citizens of Brooklyn will be very glad indeed to see Harry the Horse, Little Isadore and Spanish John move away from there, as they are always doing something that is considered a knock to the community, such as robbing people, or maybe shooting or stabbing them, and throwing pineapples, and carrying on generally.

I am really much surprised to see these parties on Broadway, as it is well-known that the Broadway coppers just naturally love to shove such parties around, but here they are in Mindys, and there I am, so of course I give them a very large hello, as I never wish to seem inhospitable, even to Brooklyn parties. Right away they come over to my table and sit down, and Little Isadore reaches out and spears himself a big hunk of my gefillte fish with his fingers, but I overlook this, as I am using the only knife on the table.

Then they all sit there looking at me without saying anything, and the way they look at me makes me very nervous indeed. Finally I figure that maybe they are a little embarrassed being in a high-class spot such as Mindys, with legitimate people around and about, so I say to them, very polite:

It is a nice night.

What is nice about it? asks Harry the Horse, who is a thin man with a sharp face and sharp eyes.

Well, now that it is put up to me in this way, I can see there is nothing so nice about the night, at that, so I try to think of something else jolly to say, while Little Isadore keeps spearing at my gefillte fish with his fingers, and Spanish John nabs one of my potatoes.

Where does Big Butch live? Harry the Horse asks.

Big Butch? I say, as if I never hear the name before in my life, because in this mans town it is never a good idea to answer any question without thinking it over, as some time you may give the right answer to the wrong guy, or the wrong answer to the right guy. Where does Big Butch live? I ask them again.

Yes, where does he live? Harry the Horse says, very impatient. We wish you to take us to him.

Now wait a minute, Harry, I say, and I am now more nervous than somewhat. I am not sure I remember the exact house Big Butch lives in, and furthermore I am not sure Big Butch will care to have me bringing people to see him, especially three at a time, and especially from Brooklyn. You know Big Butch has a very bad disposition, and there is no telling what he may say to me if he does not like the idea of me taking you to him.

Everything is very kosher, Harry the Horse says. You need not be afraid of anything whatever. We have a business proposition for Big Butch. It means a nice score for him, so you take us to him at once, or the chances are I will have to put the arm on somebody around here.