I just read a story about how Rocky Marciano punched a writer over some money in the mid 60's, and Marciano ended up getting a huge lecture from the judge, and had to pay $5,000. I was LMAO when I read Marciano sat there through the whole lecture. I can only immagine, the former heavyweight champion of the world getting lectured like his mom caught him stealing bread. I just thought that one was funny.
This is not about a fighter, but a trainer. But the incidents sure as hell tickled me: If youve watched The Contender and seen the bald-headed Damon Runyon trainer, thats Tommy Gallagher. Hes not a bit player from central casting. Hes the closest thing you'll ever meet to Popeye Doyle from the FRENCH CONNECTION. Gallaghers a larger-than-life, profane, mean as a junk-yard dog, opinionated, impatient, very loud, crude, brutally honest, very loyal, former undercover cop and laugh riot 24-hours-a-day. Being with his family is like an episode of the Osbournes. Author William Saroyan put it best, describing his dad: "My father lived his life at the top of his lungs"...That's Tommy Gallagher. We had an amateur boxing team in the 1970s and 80s in South Queens that produced New York Golden Gloves champs and some pros. Tommy was Donnie Lalondes trainer when he defended his light heavy title at Caesars Palace in Vegas against Sugar Ray Leonard. Gallagher asked me to join him. Because Lalonde was the headliner, everybody in his entourage was given special treatment by the management of the hotel. One evening, I was in the lobby with Tommy, his family and some neighborhood friends. A very official looking guy in a three-piece suit came over: "Good evening, Mr. Gallagher. "Speaking for the management of the hotel, I'd like to extend a warm welcome to you and all of your friends. Now, If you'll follow me, I'll take you to be seated at the Pointer Sisters show." Gallagher looked at me. His voice echoing through the marble lobby: "WHO IS THIS HALF-A-***? *** Once in the Pointer Sisters show, the room was a semi-circle of tiered wooden benches pews. No one had his own table. Everybody was bunched together. We were a party of about 15, but all around us were families looking like they just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Gallagher was cracking everybody up with rapid-fire stories. Somebody asked him: "Tommy, did you ever fight out of the country as an amateur?" As if trying to be heard over gym noise, Gallagher shouted, "I was a young, Irish Catholic kid and I never was no place. They asked me to fight for the U.S. team in Spain. So, when I got to Spain, I walked around and there was, like, this little circus." "There was a sign on one of the cages, and somebody told me it said: Anybody that could last a round with the bear would get $50. I never seen that much money...or a bear." "So, I looked in the cage, and there's this big mop of fur on the floor. I figure: No problem; I'll knock this thing out." "So, when I turned around to tell the guy I wanted to do it, the bear REACHED THROUGH THE BARS AND TRIED TO **** ME ITS A GOOD THING I WAS WEAR'N SHORTS!" I fell on the floor laughin' so hard. Families fled in horror.
