Who would be your cornerman/cutsman ?

What facets/assets add to such a choice ?


There out of ring attitude ala training etc ?

There coolness, demeanour in big situations ?


Ach i dunno, just dish up please


Any wee facts or old memories or stories would be absolutely brilliant......as always :deal


Thanks :thumbsup

 

My father on both counts.

He had all the attributes I admired about Mr. Futch, and a couple of things that made him right for me.

He left my mother when I was young. We were friends and colleagues, even more than he was my DAD. He didn't treat me with favoritism, because he didn't see me daily. I would BEG him to train with him and the legends he worked around, and the only condition he leveled on me was that he work me twice as hard so as to keep the respect of his mates for bringing his kid a long.

It was always about me, also. He wouldn't wake me up to run; That was on me. But when we were on the road, he was ruthless. He didn't ever tell me it was time to spar. I had to do it, I had to ask the partners, I had to schedule the ring time, but when the bell rang, he was in trainer mode. He'd let me fight, keeping utterly silent till the bell, then in the corner, give the most thorough 60 second lecture I've ever been given. It was never "Move, use your jab, PUNCH!", but always "Your feet are too close together, you aren't turning over your shoulder when you jab, and you aren't pushing with the toes when you hook. Turn that foot, okay?"

For an independent guy like me who LOVES the boxing textbook, I loved training with my Dad.

As for the cutman thing, all the guys back then learned their cuts ****. Dad was just as good as anybody. My favorite memory is not wanting to sit down in between rounds because my legs were going, and my Dad, as tall and big as me, working my eyes while nobody else in the ring even came to our nipples. Looking at me, pupil to pupil, calm, focused, and precise.

We were on the same team. I miss the ****er, he was brilliant. Never got his due, never got a hold of a fighter more talented then me to get his mug on TV and get a break. I was the best he got, and that just wasn't fair to him.

 

Woah !!!

Firstly, am i allowed to ask your name ?

No firstly what a fine piece of work !!!! Thanks.

Not sure what to say, that was class and very personal.


That last chapter was/is truly beautiful.

Thank you :thumbsup

 

Posted this before, but haveta pay homage to a special trainer in my life:

Stillman’s Gym was like rush-hour on Broadway in the mid 1940s: ATGs 'n trainers bumping into each other tearing across the cavernous former union hall, while a florid Lou Stillman growled non-stop epithets over a loud speaker drowning out clanging bells and telephones.

It was against that setting, on a frigid afternoon, I climbed the 13 steps to Stillman’s to learn how to box and emulate local idols, Rocky Graziano and Jake LaMotta.

The gatekeeper at the head of the stairs, collecting quarters for entrance, was manager Jack Curley, under the gimlet eye of Lou Stillman seated on a raised chair next to ring # 1.

I paid and asked Jack Curley if he could set me up with a trainer.

After appraising me like pawnbroker, he crooked a finger at a character the image of the Penguin in a Batman comic book.

“Izzy, see what the kid’s got.”

He musta been mid-40s, 'bout 5-7 – bulging wall-eyes, the drained pallor of a lifetime in airless gyms, and dark, kinky-curly hair threatening to uncoil but bulldogged down and parted in the middle like a ‘20s bootlegger.

His nose was much too long for his face and pointy as a dart. He had no chin, no neck, was shaped like a pear and his stomach hiked up his trousers to his chest. He wore what must have been a white T-shirt at one time and unbuttoned cardigan sweater with a towel thrown over his shoulder.

Rocking back on his heels, he shuffled over, chest out, straight up and flatfooted; his shoes pointing outward like a Garment Center salesman. The only thing missing was the Penguin's umbrella.

He was my coach for the years I trained at Stillman’s. His name was Izzy Blank, and he looked after me like a son.

Though Izzy never gained the notoriety of a Charley Goldman, Ray Arcel, Whitey Bimstein, and the like, he was respected and embraced by the fraternity and was spared -- for the most part -- from Stillman’s wrath

As good or bad as I ever got, Izzy never allowed me to forget what he thought unpardonable: As a teenager, I did what all the other kids did, I carried a condom in my wallet-- not that I had chance to use it-- but it was expected.

One day while changing, the rubber fell out of my wallet onto the floor and Izzy saw it. If I did anything after that that didn't live up to his expectation, he shrugged: "Sure! How can he fight? He's in the saddle!"

I had to do three times what anybody else did. If I so much as took a deep breathe: "The kid's in the saddle!"

Izzy Blank died…still unsung -- a funny, dear man that was my professor at the University of Eighth Ave.

 

Special stuff, John. I raise my beer this afternoon to Izzy in your honor.

 

Never heard Izzys name before but he must of had a lot of something for Stillman not to say jack, it was only Arcel that got it easy in that regard i read.

Just shows ya, use protection.....ya get it even tighter

Be nice to know more of the trainers etc that arent as you mentioned a Bimstein or Arcel.

Did Lou Stillman have his shooter on him constant......he was in charge of the bell wasnt he ?

Great story as always John G.

Thank you :thumbsup

 

Considering how you seem to've had the same experience with your dad, MN, the raised glass has special meaning.

 

Never saw Stillman without the hardware in a shoulder holster under a wool jacket, HH

 

Aye he says if he was soft in there then they **** all over him.....mean mofo in work eh.

Only starting to learn about this Stillmans gym and trainers etc.

Mad obsessive.....those trainers worked everyday all day, on there days off......they was still in the gym.


Actually the term should be teachers......tryna remember that quote now.

 

Nice piece of writing

 

Eddie Futch would be in my corner. I loved his demeanor in the trenches. Ace Marotta would be my cut man.

 

Chuck Bodak.

 

Izzy Grove? He gets a mention in Dundees autobiography.

 

Angelo Dundee. Excellent motivator when things are going awry.

 

Brilliant JG.

It has been forwarded to my Father.