The Super-Middleweights part 6 A series of threads about Toney, Jones and McClellan This content is protected ' I'd only play bad guy roles. I wanna be the black Jean-Claude Van damme.I wanna kick people in the head and snap the bones in their arms and legs. Those are the sorta movies I like!' -James Toney L.A I whiped up Toney a compilation of rap to remind him of my appetite for the roughest stuff in his boxing oven and Jackie Kallen responded instantly with a pink card to say that my tape could be heard in her Galaxy gym while Toney beat up his unfortunate sparring partners. Toney was happy to see that he had made the cover of Britains Boxing News with an exclusive 'Mr Nasty' tag, but Jackie delighted more in the witty Esquire photographs of her, Lights Out and Pee-Wee. She asked for a couple of prints for her office walls and reminded me that Toney's next title defense would be in Los angeles, where they'd also be working on their Lady and the Champ Blockbuster. They all hoped, she stressed, that my lovely English Gal and I would make it to L.A. She was sure we'd have a great time 'hangin' with James and Mickey...' 'Mickey?' Alison asked as Jackie's American twang wound its way across our answerphone. 'Rourke?' 'Must be,' I said, breifly imagining that it could also be a despairing mangers reference to 'Mickey's Big Mouth' beers or bugers, As I gazed at the slimline picture of the boxer and Pee-Wee hanging in our hallway, I tossed up the easiest of questions. 'Should we go?' We could afford 91/2 days, rather than weeks, in L.A. But, on our second day, we were summoned to Mickeys. Sherry Toney gave us the wink, indicating that her James and Hollywood's Mickey were becoming thicker by the minute. It was a two-way street for both boys. while Toney deigned to punch Rourke in the face whenever they sparred in the star's private ring, Mickey ensured that the shawy Lights Out got the break into le cinema. They were soon to begin working together on a garbled film called Bullet. Toney would play the part of Blackjack Jones - the leader of a rabid street gang. 'I told Mickey and my agent,' Toney said, 'that I'd only play bad guy roles. I wanna be the black Jean-Claude Van damme.I wanna kick people in the head and snap the bones in their arms and legs. Those are the sorta movies I like!' It felt like we were in the movies ourselves as we trawled through one of Hollywood's less salubrious quarters in search of Rourke's joint. The Outlaw Gym was for his freinds' exclusive use; but Rourke's tenuous street cred was maintained by its location in a part of LA where no one spoke English unless engaging you in a cheap drug deal. But there was no sign of Mickey even when, an hour later, we found his latest holy grail. Rouke's pristine gym was empty, except for some sweaty white hunk working the heavy bag like a peacock preparing for stud. He sloped against a white wall, taking a breather, fondling his damp Calvin Klein vest and eyeing us like we were boxing's answer to Beavis and Butthead. I thought he was about to offer us a deal for our own mini-series. 'Yeah?' he sneered. 'Who're you?' 'We're meeting James Toney here,' I said. 'Oh, right!' He beamed a 5'000- watt tooth capped grin. Hunky pouted at Alison, telling us that he was an 'occasional legal adviser to Mickey', and said we could hit the bag while he sharpened up on the speed-ball. Undettered by our reluctance, he dashed over to the pear-shaped pouch, muttering his 'work it out, work it out..' mantra. This content is protected Toney and Donald McRae James Toney walked in with baby Jasmine and a cheery scowl. 'Yo! Lights Out!' the joker balered. 'How ya dooin', man?' Toney ignored him. He handed Jasmine to Sherry, lifted his eyes demurely to Alison and then walked over and punched me lightly in the stomach. 'You're back, big boy!' he grunted as he strolled over to the changing room. The Kallen gang streamed into the gym to watch Jackie's joy at work. They were all there - Jackie, her husband and her father, her sons and her brother, with all the wives and girlfriends still climbing stairs behind them. Pee-Wee was right in the middle, tugging at shoelaces and woofing at heels - untill he saw the spiky rubber-pronged bag belonging to Alison The ensuing stand-off between Alison's latex hedgehog-style handbag and a growling ball of fluff caused great hilarity in the Kallen camp. It was then that we noticed how detached Sherry was from the others. She sat on the opposite side of the gym, writing earnestly as they laughed uproariously. In Tulsa she had also been partly removed, on the fringes of a party whooping it up in tribute to her so only son. Alone black woman in a liberal bunch of white folks. It was not as if they excluded her or failed to be pleasently chatty. She was always with them; yet she was never one of them. Even Jackie, with her natural diplomacy and engaging warmth, could not completely bridge that space. She would remain a single black mother while they were an extended Jewish family. They were from the same country, the same state even; but they came to boxing from opposite worlds. The relatives chortled on as Sherry kept writing, faster amnd faster. Jackie took us into Mickey Rourke's office. She introduced us to his chic PA and also to her and James's LA agent. We sat around on Rourke's plush leather sofa while the agent grilled me on potential media assignments, trying to work out his busy head if they should pump out as many promotional features as possible or wait until the Lights Out iron PR got even hotter. He made me twitchy, that relentlessly smooth publicity gizmo. I concentrated instead on the black marble fountain bubbling away in the middle of a boxing hideaway. I thought of Sherry again, scribling outside, and wondered what words she would leave on paper. She was more intriguing than all the agents, personal assistants, managers and movie-stars put together. Sherry We slunk back into the gymnasium. Toney waltzed round the ring, saying, 'Hey, Ma, watch me break this sucker,' as his fiery jabs sizzled in another man's face. Sherry looked up drearily. 'Hey,' she said. but to us rather than Toney. 'You made it, huh?' We sat down next to her. 'How're things?' I asked. 'Not bad.' 'Looks like you're busy..' 'I'm writing,' Sherry said excitedly. 'We noticed. What are you woking on?' 'A screenplay...' 'The Lady and the Champ?' 'Oh no,' she laughed shyly. 'I'm doing this all on my own...I'm writing the story of my life. It's a black woman's story. I'm hoping to show it to a movie producer some day soon. I'm writing about me and James. I should tell you about it some time.' 'Whenever you like...' 'How 'bout as soon as we get outta this place? It's a real interesting tale. It'll tell you a lot 'bout James and even a little 'bout me.' next Growing up with James Toney The Super-Middleweights part 7 A series of threads about Toney, Jones and McClellan This content is protected "Toney hates his father" Sherry Toney
