LIVING THE DREAM

@BigDaddyBunce

Voice of boxing

THERE was once a boxing gym above a McDonalds next to the Port Authority in New York City.

That part of the city in February 1991 was squalid; junkies, hustlers, retired junkies and retired hustlers were on every corner, in every gutter. It was smelly, dangerous and there were daytime rats. Nonchalant vermin, relaxed as a rat can be. Still, that’s where boxing gyms live in the city.

I had an old-fashioned fax in my hands, a long sheet of details and boxing records; the gym was the right one, I checked the address. It was right, I was surprised.