Gran Sasso

The villagers of Sequals, near Venice, will not soon forget the past fortnight. All ordinary business stood practically still while the populace, plus a stream of visitors from afar, milled around the Carnera house every day. They wanted to see the Gran Sasso (''Big Rock") as he trained for his ''fight" in Rome with Paulino Uzcudun. Bustling importantly, Carnera's father tried to wave the crowds away. "Let Primo alone!" he shrilled. But the crowds hung on, grateful for an occasional glimpse of the monstrous, slow-witted champion as he trotted out with his trainers for roadwork, or shambled into a backyard garage through a door topped by Juvenal's maxim. MENS SANA IN CORPORE SANO. The garage was his training quarters, fitted as a gymnasium with an 18-ft. ring. There he skipped rope, shadowboxed, sparred with his U. S. plug-uglies.

Few gawpers got inside the Carnera house, a two-story structure filled with oversized modernistic furniture. The living room is frescoed with portraits of famed prizefighters. The princely guest room contains a double-size reinforced iron bed for Primo. In the adjoining bathroom is his own tub, made by welding two ordinary tubs together. An electric icebox and electric oven are in the kitchen where leathery Mama Giobanna Carnera last week was sweating heroically over enormous meals for her son and his suite.

Carnera last week stuffed his Gargantuan frame into a new uniform, the gaudiest permitted a member of the Fascist militia, and took plane to Rome. For some reason, probably because it had never seen an important prizefight, Rome was wildly excited. Nobody seriously expected much of Uzcudun, the 34-year-old Basque woodchopper whom Carnera had defeated three years ago. Carnera received no money, was merely attempting to strengthen his standing in Italy. But, with a straight face, the New York Times correspondent quoted Carnera:

"Paulino is a formidable adversary. . . . All I can say is that Blackshirt Primo Carnera will fight with unshakeable faith and will keep the heavyweight championship in Fascist Italy."

The fight was held in the beautiful Piazza Di Siena, an outdoor amphitheatre in the centre of Rome's public gardens. Il Duce was there in a ringside box with his two sons. He exchanged the Fascist salute with Carnera as the man-mountain lumbered into the ring. Then Carnera began battering Uzcudun. He battered him until Uzcudun's face was raw meat. In the sixth round the referee stepped in. He waited for Uzcudun's seconds to wipe enough blood away for Uzcudun to see, then stepped out again. It went on for 15 rounds, the crowd howling for a knockout. But Carnera could neither knock his man down nor knock the stubborn, gold-toothed smile from his bloody face. By the end of the fight the early cheers for "Il Campionissimo" were nearly drowned by hoots, catcalls and loud cries of "Bravo Paulino" for the game loser.

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