Dressed now, after taking a quick shower, and luckily not seen by any dames, Jimmy walked over to where Max was sitting. Max had his arms folded, and had a wide grin on his face. Jimmy was wondering why Max had this funny look on his face. Normally, anyone that looked at him that way, would have either wound up on the floor, or would have scattered if Jimmy had approached him. But this was Max, and after their discussion together just minutes ago, Jimmy felt that Max could now be trusted, and the grin didn’t mean a darned thing

The noisy chatter on the other side of the door, although still there, was diminishing, as some didn’t have any more patience, and left the area. “Sit down kid, how you feeling?” Before he could answer that he was okay, Max said, “Let me see your hands.” As Jimmy held his hands out for Max’s inspection, “ Jimmy asked him. “Max, why do you want to see my hands?” “Jimmy, you did a lot of punching in there with Johnny, and that combination you threw that knocked him out, may have caused you an injury. They were terrific blows, and you could have hurt yourself without even knowing it.” Max carefully scrutinized Jimmy’s hands, satisfied, he said, “okay Jimmy, looks good, so sit down, already, will ya, and lets talk man to man.”

This is unbelievable, thought Jimmy. Here I am sitting down with about the best boxing trainer in the world, while a couple of weeks ago, he wouldn’t even look at me. Max, now serious looked at Jimmy, “Jimmy, what do you want to do now?” Hopefully. that Jimmy would give him the answer he wanted. Jimmy hesitated. He was caught off guard, “Max, I, I, I dunno.” “Jimmy, what do you want to be? What is the most important thing in your life right now?” There was tears just starting to swell in Jimmy’s eyes. He never in this world had anyone talk to him like that before. It was as if his deceased father was speaking to him, and in a tearful voice said: “Max, do you think that I could be a boxer, this is all I’ve thought about ever since I was knee high to a ___ant. I’ve always dreamed of being in a boxing ring with the crowd all around me, yelling and rooting for me, that’s it kid, you’ve got him going now, wont be long, you know things like that. Max, do you think I’m good enough?”

“Good enough, my God Jimmy. If you were old enough, you’d be in the ring fighting as pro. Yes you’re good enough. You’re better than good enough. I don’t think that its sunk into your head yet what you did tonight. Whatcha think the crowds out there for, to attend a sweet sixteen party?” No, they are there because of what you did tonight. Some of them.......think that it was a fluke, that Johnny purposely let you hit him, not expecting a kid, weighing about 105 pounds, sopping wet, who wears a size 29 jock strap to stretch him out. But you and I know better, don’t we?”

Jimmy had been training at the gym every afternoon after school, and practically all day long on the weekends. His boys were there most of the time to watch him work out and to give him encouragement when they felt that Jimmy had a bad day. They knew that Jimmy was determined now to put every effort he had into becoming a boxer, and they knew that he could not possibly spend much time with them now. The boys still hassled the cops and the pushcart vendors, but it wasn’t the same without Jimmy. The vendors all knew of Jimmy’s feat in the ring with Johnny, and now was seemingly more friendly with the boys, “Hey everybody, do you know what the sassy ass kid Jimmy did? Yeah. he knocked out that guy, you know, the one that won all of his professional fights. Do you believe that, a skinny bones and not wet behind the ears boychick could do that?”

It was true, Jimmy was the talk of the neighborhood and the talk of the town. He even made the Daily News. It was uncanny, people were calling Jimmy the next champ. This was remarkable since Jimmy had not as yet had one official fight. But all this happened in the neighborhood, where Jimmy was born. People who did not know him and those that the boys gave a hard time to, were clamoring to meet him and shake the hand of the new champ.

Champ of what, Jimmy thought. Why are they putting this pressure on me. Just because I knocked someone out. Geez, this wasn’t the first time that I floored a guy. It was true, Jimmy was under pressure for the first time in his life. Gone were the easy days, the pillaging of the vendors, the hassling of the cops, and the sometimes harassment of their teachers.

Jimmy hadn’t spoken very much with Max since the time they had spoken in the locker room. In fact he seldom saw Max. He knew that he was busy with other fighters and just didn’t have the time to see Jimmy, but Max had assigned his best assistant trainer, Izzy to work with Jimmy, to teach him the fundamentals, how to counterpunch, making the best of his speed, and all those important things that fit together to make a good boxer. What Jimmy didn’t know was that Max had given explicit instructions to Izzy to not rush him, and to report to him of his progress each night. Most important was that Izzy was to inform Max when he thought Jimmy was ready for his first official amateur fight. Max had the highest hopes for Jimmy, and did not want to jeopardize his chances of maybe being a great boxer. A champ, maybe, maybe not, but at least he was going to get the best training possible, and maybe Max will say, at last, at last I am no longer a bridesmaid.

“Max,” said Izzy in his New York street accent. “I think the boychick is ready, more ready he will never be. He’s a good boy, we know that he can punch, he’s got great footwork and can block a punch pretty good. So what more do we need? He needs to get into a ring with someone his own age and weight.” “So it’s a go then,” replied Max.” “Yeah it’s a go.” Izzy said enthusiastically.

Barney's boxing club and gym, a so called smoker was larger than the gym where Jimmy trained. Much larger. Barney held amateur boxing matches here every Friday night, rain or shine, and hopeful boxers came for miles for the opportunity of displaying their talents or lack of talent. A large boxing ring was set up in the center of the huge gym. Chairs were placed strategically around the ring, where guests were invited to sit and view the demonstrations, and boo or cheer as they wished.

Max knew Barney well, both being in the boxing game for a long time, so as a favor for his long time friend, Barney approved of a boxing match between Jimmy, and an opponent of his choosing. Max thought that this would be a good beginning for Jimmy, where he would have exposure to boxers of his own age, weight and experience. Amateur boxers were paired only with other boxers of similar experience in the ring. Jimmy was classified as a novice, a boxer who never had an official boxing match before. What made no difference was the fact that Jimmy had many, many so called boxing matches and fist fights on the streets, and not only that, had a eventful match with a pro.

The club was starting to fill up with guests who were eager to view the matches. These were mostly all people that were affiliated with boxing in one way or the other. Some were reporters eager to possibly get a glimpse, a picture or more of a up and coming new fighter. Some were looking for new talent to sign up when and if they turned professional. But many were also there to look at the skinny kid, the boy wonder, who performed a miracle, a few weeks ago.

The boxers locker rooms, or rather locker room was a community room where all the boxers gathered before and after their respective matches. There was no privacy in this room. They dressed and undressed there all together, and with what little belongings they brought along were placed in individual lockers. Those that were lucky returned to the locker room after their bouts unscathed. The unlucky ones returned with bloody noses, black eyes and a assortment of bruises, and what not. The less lucky ones were carried back on stretchers or if they could still walk, were assisted by a couple of their trainers.

There were 10 bouts scheduled for tonight, with eight weight classes from heavyweight to the lightest weight, featherweight, the lightest weight of amateur boxing. Jimmy was entered in this weight class.

Jimmy was already dressed in his fighting clothes. They called it a cup now instead of a jock strap. He had on brand new boxing shoes, that fit, a shirt with the logo of Max's gym. and a colorful pair of trunks, even a protective mouthpiece that was especially fitted for him "Hey you," called a voice from behind Jimmy. As Jimmy turned to see who had called , he was confronted by a boy, about the same age and weight of Jimmy's. "Your name Jimmy," the boy asked, not to gently. "Yeah, that’s me, what about it? Who are you?" Jimmy, not knowing why, took an immediate dislike to the boy, maybe it was his tone of voice. "I'm Mike Galentino. Are you the guy who floored that pro, Johnny a few weeks ago? "I wouldn't call it floored, yes I had a match with Johnny, so what?" "I'll tell you what, you Jew......... I'm the one you’re going to fight tonight, but it's not going to be the same. They're going to carry you out on a stretcher," Mike said nastily, with an evil smirk on his face. Jimmy was not surprised at the name calling and outburst for he had heard similar remarks such as this, many, many times before, and none of them had become true. He just wondered why this kid had a grudge against him. Jimmy looked at him straight in his face, and simply said. "we'll see." As Mike walked away, Jimmy heard him say to some of the other boxers, "I'm going to beat the living......out of that......."

Jimmy was ready for his bout. But he wished that he hadn't had that confrontation with Mike, what’s name. He couldn't figure the reasons for his remarks. What did he have against him? He didn't know him, never saw him. Was he trying to psyche him up? He heard that this happens sometimes, where opponents make disparaging remarks, just to try to get them mad. Jimmy knew that being angry in a ring was a sure way to lose a bout. But maybe he had another reason. He was determined to find out.

"Hey Jimmy, you're up next, lets go."

To Be Continued

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Original stories written, published and copyrighted by Larry Delmar. (c) 1970-1999. If you would like to use something, please email for permission.