I've posted this before but thought it might be appropriate for this thread: Joey Giardello was gonna fight Walter Cartier, a tough NY middleweight, in the main-go at the old Garden. I was in the dressing room with a buddy fightin on the under card. Walter was a very intense guy -- strapping shoulders and chest -- an orthodox, stand-up boxer/puncher with a solid right hand 'n a string of impressive knockouts. He trained religiously under the watchful eye of his twin brother n chief cheerleader at Stillmans Gym and believed he could beat Joey and be vaulted into the title picture. Walter was getting his game face on. In deference to his big shot, the other fighters kept it quiet. All of a sudden -- CRASH! The locker room door burst open. It was Giardello in an outrageously expensive camels hair coat tied at the waist -- cigar in his yap -- at the head of an army of goombahs. He strode to Cartier, whos mouth was agape, and slapped him on the back: HI, HOWYA YA DOIN', WALTER? The blood drained from Cartiers face. The TKO in the first round was a formality; Walter lost it in the dressing room.
Great story, Mr. Garfield, by the way. I remember Alex Stewart basically kissing his wife and kids goodbye with tears in his eyes before he fought Tyson. It was ridiculous.