A STREET SURVIVOR

Boxing is not so much black and white as it is grey. That's because the ranks of colourful figures, often reverentially referred to as "Runyonesque", are thinning. Fortunately, Tommy Gallagher is still around.
Gallagher, 60, pumps you with opinions that are to political correctness what Marilyn Manson is to decorum. A lifelong New Yorker, Gallagher won a Golden Gloves title in 1959. A kidney problem prevented him from turning pro, but he's compensated by working for almost 40 years as a trainer, manager, promoter, and gym owner and operator. Among others, he's contributed to the careers of Doug DeWitt, Vito Antuofermo, Don Lalonde, Lou Savarese, Segundo Mercado, and Merqui Sosa. 


In late-September, Boxing Monthly sat down with Gallagher after a press conference announcing the latter's black-tie boxing show, to be held at a Wall Street hotel. Here, then, is the state of the (bleeping) game, according to a legitimate (bleeping) lifer.

BM: You're known as one of the last remaining characters on the New York fight scene. Who was a character you remember from your boxing past?

TG: I guess this guy Joe Franco, who was very close with Whitey Bimstein, Freddie Brown, Chickie Ferrara. I was fortunate to be around; I was a kid then in Stillman's [Gym]. My grandfather was very good friends with Lou Stillman. I found out 40 years later his real name wasn't Lou Stillman Franco was a real wise guy. The real McCoy. He looked like he could've been a movie star. He wore a suit and tie every day in the gym. He had a pinky ring that was bigger than the Hope diamond. He was just a great teacher, and he taught me that you can always learn from everybody, anybody. Listen and learn, then you can give it to your kid. The key, he always said, was basics. There's a hook, a jab, a cross, an uppercut, and body shots. You just gotta him 'em a couple of times to break their head.

BM: In the business of boxing, if you trust somebody, are you a fool?
TG: Yes. [pause] You want me to elaborate on that? You have to take responsibility for yourself. It's nice to have a friend, but you have to be able to count for yourself. They talk about the mob. I'd rather be with the mob than any fuckin' body. They said you got 20 dollars, you got 20 dollars. I never knew of any mob guys that hurt any fighters that I know of, and I've been around those guys my whole life.
BM: Hollywood loves to tell the story of the educated promoter or manager screwing the fighter. But we know it happens the other way around, too.

TG: More likely than not. In my day, the manager never came to the fighter. He'd say: "We're getting $20,000,"and nobody ever asked: "30 [thousand]?"That's how that worked; that was the system. And don't forget, in those days some [managers] got 50 percent. I don't know for what. There's a lot of guys who paid for days and years and months and weeks, and [the fighters] never paid back those guys.

BM: For the most part, do you think boxers are loyal?

TG: No. I would put that in the high-90s [percent].

BM: Does every guy who ever owned a boxing gym dream that the next Ray Robinson is going to walk up the steps and appear from nowhere?

TG: Without dreams there's nothing. You're 1,000 percent correct. Boxing ain't different than anything else. Every time I heard those stairs and the door opened, I said: "Oh, my God . . ."But I've changed. I used to look at the cosmetics. I had a guy, I swear to God he looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. But he could fucking kill you. The guy had every piece of talent and equipment you could imagine. He'd hit you with either hand and break your head. Of course he got killed in a car accident. The guy was a beast. You dream, you say: "Let me do this intelligently,"the steps you're gonna take. The first thing I did was I called John Condon, who was at the Garden. I said: "John, I got a kid, he's 17 years old, he's the real deal."John came to the gym to see him. 

BM: What's the difference between fighters today and when you first started in the game?

TG: Simple toughness. Toughness is to a point, and then it stops. [In the past] They'd go in, fight their balls off, and then they'd be gentlemen. These kids now don't do that. They want to be tough guys inside, outside, around the corner. Every other sport but boxing, I would say, has improved. There's no way any of these guys could stay with those guys from the '40s and '50s. They have no clue. Let me give you an example. These guys get hurt, they don't even know how to hold. World-class fighters don't know how to hold! De La Hoya and Vargas, the fucking moron never held once! There are no teachers anymore. All those teachers are gone. Those guys were trainers. It's all they did. Now you got a fucking cutman, a guy who checks your urine, a guy who's looking in your ass . . . forget it. You know who fucking ruined this business? Ali . . . with all the running and the disrespect and all that fucking bullshit, and everybody copied him. You have to be yourself. Nobody can copy Ali, whatever the fuck that was that he did. They forget that it's from within that makes you. That whole situation . . . they pissed on [Joe] Frazier. I mean, Ali told this country to go and fuck itself. That bothers me as a blue-collar guy in those years. They let him carry the flag in the Olympics. As a man raising children, I was trying to figure out the real fucking deal here. And the other guy who did everything right gets pushed aside. I had a little problem with that.

BM: What percentage of pro fighters today trains as hard as they should?

TG: Fifty. The people behind them aren't giving them the benefit of the doubt; maybe they will blossom into something and go on. This is what the business is about now: undefeated, undefeated, undefeated, undefeated. That's bullshit. See that guy who was here today? Emile Griffith? He fought everybody in the world and beat them -and lost 17 times [actually 24]. How fucking great was he? How great was Sandy Saddler if Willie Pep was the greatest featherweight in the world and [Saddler] killed him 25 times? These kind of guys are gone. Now it's about win, win, win. And I think television should take the blame for that. "Is he undefeated?"No, but he'll fucking kill ya.

BM: We know how drugs and booze have ruined many a fighter. But what about sex?

TG: Let me tell you something: That's the best thing in the world. You're not a man if you can't party all day and fight all night [laughs]. Girls? That's a joke. When you're 20 years old, you can fuck your brains out, then beat Mighty Joe Young, if they put him up. It's the attitude. It's not about getting laid. It's about chasing them all over the neighbourhood. Now I remember getting tired running up and down the stairs [laughs].

BM: [To Gallagher's wife Maureen] Pull up a chair. You can tell me if Tommy's bullshitting me or not.

TG: She hates when I curse.

BM: Is it a mistake to let the federal government get involved in the running of boxing?

TG: Let me tell you about that. It is important. All they gotta do is put up a federal guy. I don't understand, what are they trying to do? To make sure [fighters] don't get hurt? So what you do is you put 'em under the machine they have on space stations and you go from the top of their heads and you find out if the guy can fight? I mean, c'mon! This is getting to be a joke. They've got guys talking to Senator McCain. He's got nothing else to do than worry about boxing? What are they all pissed off at Don [King] for? If Don's a bad guy, put him in jail. But I happen to think they should have a federal guy. Let's have somebody run this sport.

BM: When you know a fighter shouldn't be fighting anymore, can you tell him to stop?

TG: That's a very hard thing to do. I had a situation. Vito [Antuofermo]. Vito would've been the greatest middleweight of all-time. Just think of the determination. He had a club foot. He had no balance, no power, and he beat you to fucking death. I was real proud of working with him at the end of his career. But when it was over, it was over. It's hard to leave the limelight and become a fucking plumber. You know what I'm saying? I feel like a rap star saying: "You know what I'm saying?"I said: "Vito, I think it's over."He wanted to fight Duran so bad. Duran was scared to fucking death of him.

BM: Ever come close to hitting a boxing writer?

TG: No.

BM: What's your opinion about the boxing media in general?

TG: They don't have a clue. None at all. I once wanted to choke Mike Marley. He wrote an insulting article once about Donny Lalonde. I made Donny Lalonde because I picked the right fights. [Marley] said something that it was somebody else 20 years ago -I don't know who the fuck that guy was. All I know is that when he won the light-heavyweight title, I was there. I was the guy missing my kids' birthday parties, my anniversary. That bugged me. They should get away from their opinions and just report.

BM: In boxing terms, define balls.

TG: The ability to get hit on the fucking chin and get up. That's simple. Larry Holmes, he was about as exciting as a condom. But Larry Holmes was in my opinion one of the best fucking heavyweights in the world. You want to know why? Because he got hit for dead and he got up. The Marcianos of the world, cut, their ass hanging out -where am I? -and still fighting on.

BM: Is there anybody from today, or at least the recent past, who would've fit in with the old-timers?

TG: I think if Tyson would've had a little control over his situation and hadn't been mentally fucked up, I thought he may have had that. Then when I saw him fight James Tillis, I saw that the instinct wasn't really there.

BM: Here are some matchups involving recent fighters. Give me the winner. Roy Jones-Michael Spinks at light-heavyweight.

TG: Roy Jones has not a shot against Michael Spinks.

BM: Marvin Hagler-Carlos Monzon.

TG: I don't think anything of Monzon. A lot of people said he was the greatest. They're so full of shit. I saw [an old] Emile Griffith beat Monzon to death. I'm not a Hagler guy either. I'm gonna tell you guys who could beat both of them: Joey Giardello, Dick Tiger in the beginning, Tiger Jones.

BM: Both in their primes, Tyson and Joe Frazier.

TG: Oh, man. I couldn't insult either one of them. I could not pick a winner there. I mean, I kinda gotta lean toward Frazier because of his getting up a few times. And he was more of a fighter, took it more seriously than Tyson. So I'd probably lean toward Frazier.

BM: Junior welterweight, Julio Cesar Chavez and Aaron Pryor.

TG: I think Pryor would've chased Chavez out of the ring. That's my opinion.

BM: Riddick Bowe and Lennox Lewis.

TG: Let me tell you something about Riddick Bowe. I was around with Riddick Bowe. I think if Bowe just developed just a tiny little bit of character, he could've been the best there ever was. He sure had all the fucking tools. But there was something that was missing. Look what he did without having a real desire to do what he was doing. He went far. I think he would've beaten Lewis.

BM: Last match-up -welterweight, Ray Leonard and Oscar De La Hoya.

TG: That's the toughest one. [Pause] I'm gonna tell you something right now: I'm impressed with De La Hoya because he's not a crybaby. I don't know if he has the tools to beat Ray. I think he has a lot more plusses than Ray in terms of versatility. Man . . . The best man wins.

BM: When Tommy Gallagher isn't around any longer, what will the boxing people say about him? And what do you hope they say about him?

TG: I don't want to get fucking corny here, but what I hope they say is there's a guy who was a family man and really cared about his fighters. But really, I don't give a fuck what they say [laughs].