Not a lot of people know this but...

he tells me about himself,fighting ali and holmes among others chosen the biggest puncher of the century etc,etc.
then it goes on to ask me if i'd be interested in earning200 to 1000 pounds a month?he was residing in the united kingdom at the time he was envolved with a guy named mark hughes
its like 4 pages long he goes into great detail

bigjake

 

I'm sure fans light-up when you show them the letter.

I shook hands with Earnie at Ali's old Santa Monica gym. Huge paws! If I didn't dig my toes in, he'da lifted me off the ground...and he wasn't trying to show off.

 

Mark Hughes, the football player?

 

Years after they'd both retired, an also-ran middleweight was asked to deliver Ray Robinson to a businessman who was interested in using the Sugar's likeness in a national advertising campaign.

After meeting Ray in the lobby of his downtown hotel the two ex-pugs zig-zagged their way through city streets packed with lunch-time foot traffic to arrive at their address, a twenty-five story office building in the sky.

At the bank of elevators, Sugar spotted a men's room off to the side and said, "I gotta make a stop. I'll see ya up there."

"Ok, remember now Ray, 2108. Up on the 21st floor, Champ."

"I got it," said Ray. "I'll see you up there."

Ray's escort exited the elevator and looked around. He marked the location of number 2108 and waited, expecting each ringing bell and sliding elevator door to deliver Robinson. He peaked into the office's reception room to see if Ray had somehow slipped past him; Ray was elusive, everybody knew that, but invisible?

Just then a door past the row of elevators springs open, one leading to the almost vertical 25 flights of stairs, and into the hall strolls Robinson. "Champ! What the hell did you do? Why didn't you take the elevator up?"

Ray spotting 2108 just down and across the hall, was already striding in that direction when he said it like it was a given, "What? Nah. I never use 'em."

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i have no idea,i never responded to his letter

 

well i get asked how i know earnie shavers,fact is i don't.he had to have gotten my name and mailling address from someone else.i do know a few boxers and also several older wrestlers some of whom have pasted on now

bigjake

 

How is larry this week anyway? Still griping?

 

Great story, Ck. Had heard about Sugar's dread of elevators...interesting.

j

 

There was this guy I grew up with, Carlo – a loose-canon street guy.

Fought in a lot of smokers... loved to mix-it-up for no reason... be the first to put the boots to somebody... did anything he damn pleased. We were in Basic Training together at Fort Dix, N.J.

Carlo HATED being told what do. He wanted out desperately.

There wasn't a day that went by that he wasn't scheming a way out: talking back, not listening or throwing his footlocker through a window.

Every night for WEEKS, he took-a-leak in his bunk and went to sleep in it.

One day he bursts into the barracks, euphoric. He's throwing his gear into a bag, shouting, "THEY'RE LETTING ME OUT! I FOXED'M... THEY THINK I'M CRAZY!"

 

Yeah I hear ya JG. What's so crazy about that?

 

I shook his hand aswell, i live in Liverpool and he is a doorman on some ars here. I was so pissed, think i said somethin' embarrassing like 'its an honour', or something like that. Haha, but i do remember his huge paws though

 

Just became a great-grandfather today.

 

The "Hurricane's" a subject worthy of a book, N -- What a character! Doin' a piece on him now for a U.K. boxing magazine.

Have to go out now. I'll try to put up a story about him when I get back.

 

In the waning days of his career, Willie Pep took the bouts for walkin’ around money.

All he had left was a twinkle in his eye and a wisecrack. Most boxers looked bigger in trunks; he looked smaller.

He was training at the 5th Street Gym in Miami. Heavyweight Cleveland “Big Cat” Williams was also there. But, though faded, Pep was the star with gym rats, which grated on Williams, who was always sullen while Willie kibitzed and clowned.

Williams was the closest thing to Superman I’d ever seen -- a walking anatomy chart…at his peak, before he got shot in the stomach. His left-hook cannonades on the heavy bag shook the gym.

Fifth Street was compact -- always jammed, so Pep and Williams had to do floor exercises almost side by side. Pep’s fans constantly stoked his ego:

" Willie, you could kill that big bum! He'd never touch you."

"You'd make him look like a jerk, Willie.”

It went on like that for weeks.

No way Williams didn't hear it.... He was nine feet tall – proud, a fearsome puncher, and bristling.

While Pep joked, Williams seethed. An explosion was building.

One day when Pep’s faithful were egging him on:

"You could kick his ass, Willie"

"You'd make him look like fool, Willie!"

Pep turned to them: "All I can tell you is: I'd hate to have him hang his hammer on me!"

The only explosion was Williams' laughter.