QUEENSBURY RULES


Chapter 3

There's nothing more difficult for a heavyweight fighter then to hang up his gloves for the last time. Jimmy Braddock knew he was at the end of the road but how could the promoters let such a great man go out without one more chance?

Madison Square Garden would be the place for the event and the fighter who would give Jimmy his last professional career bout was a Welshman by the name of Tommy Farr. Tommy was a good fighter and he went into this match the favorite at 8 to 5. He figured this would give him the boost he needed for a shot at the world championship and if he won, he'd be right.

January, 21, 1938 was the date of the bout. When it was scheduled it created quite a row between Mae and James.

They were in the backyard talking. Something they did often after the kids went to bed. Mae sat on the big swing and she had herself crunched up in the corner. Her tiny hand was wrapped so tight around the chain that her knuckles were white.

"I thought this was over. I thought you were done after what happened with Joe Louis."

"Mae, honey, I can beat Farr."

"You said that about Louis too. James, you got hurt. I can't look at you again with your face all busted up like that."

If there was ever pain on his face it showed now. His eyes carried ever blow that ever met his flesh and his heart throbbed with anxiety. "Please, Mae. I have to give it one more chance. I need to fight at the Garden one more time."

She hated it; she hated the entire fight game and everything that went with it. Well, almost everything. It was her love for James that made her nod her head. "Okay, one more fight, just one more."

The stress left his face and he lowered his hand to hers. She let go of the chain and took his hand. In seconds flat she was in his arms and he held her tight. "Thank you, Mae. You don't know what this means to me."

"Jimmy, God knows I want you home with me, the kids want you home. I won't sleep until this is behind us."

He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place. Joe Gould was the rock and Mae was the hard place. It didn't feel right to Joe for Jimmy to end his career with a defeat in Chicago and it sure as hell didn't sit well with Jimmy Braddock but Mae didn't see it. To her he was one step closer to getting his head caved in just like some of Max Baer's opponents did. Dead before they hit the canvas. She was more afraid of losing him than she was of being on relief.
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The day he left for the fight he found something with his gear. It fell to the floor when he picked up his gloves and he knew who put it there. It was a rabbit's foot charm that dangled on a chain and Mae had put it in his right hand glove for luck.

A couple hours later he stood alone in the dressing room. Jimmy's hands were taped and he shadow boxed to warm up. One incandescent bulb lit the room and he didn't see an aging boxer as his opponent, he saw a young fighter with more heart and soul than David before he went up against Goliath. For every right there was a block. For every jab and uppercut there was an exchange. What a real ripper. Pop, pop, bang! It was his anthem and he never forgot it. Silence was met with the grunts of a fighter who put every ounce of himself in his work but then there was an interruption. The sound of footsteps broke the revelry of the quiet bout, footsteps that were not associated with the sweet science of boxing.

"You feeling good, Braddock?"

James turned around to see and old man standing there. "Who's asking?"

"I'm a fan. My name is John Condon but my friends call me Jafsie. I was hoping you'd call me Jafsie, Mister Braddock."

"I figure if you want me to call you Jafsie, you better call me Jimmy. Ain't you the guy who got the letters in that trial." He was talking about the Lindburgh kidnapping trial. Jafsie was a major witness for the prosecution and a kind of a celebrity around New York in those days.

"I am. It was my little bit of fame that got me in here before the herd of reporters. I just wanted to bring something for you." Jafsie reached into his coat pocket and produced a hand painted horse shoe. "It's for luck, James. It was given to me by a fighter by the name of Bob Fitzsimmons way back in the day." He held the piece up for James to take.

"I could use all the luck I can get. Much obliged, Jafsie."

"My pleasure. How you calling this fight?"

"I'm gonna send dat bum back to Wales with a shiner or two."

Jafsie laughed pretty hard at Jimmy's statement. His raspy old voice filled the dressing room like nails on a chalkboard but it didn't rattle Jimmy Braddock. Nothing would rattle him ever again short of losing his family.

"That's what I wanted to hear my boy. Give em all you go. I'll be watching and hey, good luck." With that Jafsie left him alone again.

Soon enough the reporters would be there to get some pre-fight photo's but this time alone gave him a chance to reflect on everything that had happened to him in the past decade or so. Nothing came easy for Jimmy Braddock. Nothing was ever handed to him on a silver platter. His blood sweat and tears were in every single dime that he ever held. As for this fight, he wasn't doing it for the money he was doing it because it was time to sing his swan song.

Once the reporters left, James got his usual pep talk from Joe Gould.

"Dis guy's a bum you know?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna beat him?"

"Maybe if you put dis horseshoe in my glove."

Joe gave him one of those sideways looks. "Where'd you get that piece of shit?"

"From Jafsie. He gave it to me for luck. I got dis too." Jimmy raised his hand and the rabbits foot dangled from his curled taped up fingers.

"You don't need that crap, Jimmy. You got heart and that's all you need."

"Yeah. I know, but Mae give me dis."

"For Christ's sake I can understand you better when you got your teeth in. Let's get this over with so we can at least hold a decent conversation."

"Okay Joe."

"You ready?"

"I'm ready."

18,000 fight fans filled the Garden to witness the bout on that chilly night. The crowd was on its feet when Jimmy Braddock slipped under the ropes. His blue robe swaged tight around his waist, Jimmy didn't wear the mask of anxiety he did when he stepped into the ring with Max Baer. He was relaxed and almost stoic.

The British heavyweight champion entered the ring looking much the same. Being the favorite had its advantages as did being younger and fitter. He looked confident and as the opening bell rang the betting public felt that confidence. Braddock didn't show them anything. The two men clinched and danced around taking useless shots at each other.

Round one ended with both men bouncing back to their corners as fresh as the moment they started the fight.

"This is a cakewalk huh, Jimmy?" He slipped his mouthpiece out and rinsed it off.

"Yeah."

"You're doing great. Doing what you always do, boyo. Easy in the early rounds. Save it up."

"Yeah."

Joe slipped the mouthpiece back in just before the bell rang. Both men met in the center of the ring and the dance continued. Everything was even up, round after round, even exchanges with enough excitement to keep the crowd happy. There was no clear dominator in this match until the bell rang for the start of the ninth round. Braddock toed his way into the ring like someone had lit a fire under him. No one really knows what his manager said to him just before it but something lit him up. His first barrage of shots were kind of sluggish but he was active on his feet. By the time Farr knew what hit him the end of the tenth round came. His nose was broke along with a couple of ribs and he looked like a man defeated. By the time the scores came in he fit the description. James J. Braddock won his final professional match in a split decision.

..And the crowd went wild.

Over in New Jersey, Mae Braddock looked at her watch. She turned her Magnavox radio on and sat down in her rocker to listen to the post fight report. She caught the tail end of the announcers call.

"There we have it ladies and gents, James J. Braddock had defeated Tommy Farr in this ten round split decision bout."

"Oh, thank Christ." Mae covered her face with her hands and began to cry. She listened on as a reporter caught her husband for a post fight comment.

"Jimmy, Jimmy Braddock. Congratulations buddy. You fought a good fight. How you doing? What's next for you? Are you going to take a shot at the heavyweight title again?"

"Thanks. I'm doin' great, ya know."

Mae uncovered her face and gazed at the radio. She could hear Joe Gould's voice in the background as he too lauded Jimmy's win. Jimmy's voice was the prominent one though.

"I ain't gonna go for the title. I promised Mae and the kids that this was my last fight and I'll be retiring. Outta fairness to my wife and kids, ya know. They been puttin' up with me for a long time. I gotta stick to my woid."

"C'mon Jimmy! We're going out. We're gonna get drunk and stay that way for a week."

Hearing Joe Gould say that made Mae wonder if she should wait up or just go to bed. She did and James came home within an hour or two. He had a dozen roses and barely a mark on his face. Her prayers were all answered.

"It's over, Jimmy?"

"It's all over, Mae."

"No more fightin'?"

"Not unless you intend on puttin' a pair of gloves on, honey."

"No more fighting. It's settled. You went out a winner, baby."

"Mae, I've been a winner since the day I met you."

 

 

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