He was the friendly, grandfather-like man who sat quietly, a cigar in his mouth, smiling at strangers, greeting everyone who came close with a smile and handshake, signing autographs without fanfare when asked.
Dickie DiVeronica may have faded from boxing’s consciousness altogether if he hadn’t lived in Canastota. But as he resided in ‘boxing’s hometown’, he was a fixture at every induction weekend held at the International Boxing Hall of Fame. He was given a name tag, like the stars who were in attendance and being inducted and he was introduced as they were, even though his claims to fame were not as strong.
He wore a modesty that expressed that, too.
That was noted by boxing journalist and photographer Bob Newman.
“He always seemed to know his place among the greats was based solely on the fact that he was a native resident of Canastota, following in the footsteps of Carmen [Basilio] and to a degree, Billy Backus,” said Newman. “It’s as if he knew he was undeserving and therefore felt uncomfortable with any acknowledgement. That’s just my gut feeling. He’d take the microphone when asked, mention how wonderful Canastota is and how happy he was to be here.”
The brilliant roughhouse former welterweight and middleweight Basilio took to managing Dickie and he was an aggressive bodypuncher.
His first few fights were upstate but he fought often in Florida, where he trained with Angelo Dundee. He boxed underneath Sonny Liston-Mike DeJohn and ran his record up to 20-0 before losing to 17-0-1 Jackie Donnelly in Syracuse. Two fights later, and having scalped Jay Fullmer on a split decision, he avenged the Donnelly loss in The Garden on a bill topped by Cuban Florentino Fernandez stopping Phil Moyer.
He lost to good men, like Johnny Bizzarro, but after a three-year absence after he was drafted into the army, from 1961 until 1964, he won six in a row before he was stopped for the first time in his career, halted in four by Herman Dixon in an upset. He righted that wrong next time out – stopping Dixon in the seventh – but was beaten by 18-0 Gordon Lott. He’d avenge that loss, too and another to Herbie Lee, whom he defeated two out of three times but by 1967 he was on the down side. He lost in Philly to the enigmatic Gypsy Joe Harris, who was 23-0 at the time, and then there was a stoppage loss to the wonderful Emile Griffith.
He lost four of his last eight and called it a day after a draw to a Baltimore up and comer called Alvin Anderson.
There would be more days in the sun, however. Dickie was celebrated every year in Canastota, along with other hometown heroes Basilio and Backus.
“I remember him being a staple of many induction weekends and while I got his autograph, I didn't spend any real time chatting with him until the later years,” remembered historian Lee Groves. “I recall it taking place in front of the pavilion stage and he was a very pleasant gentleman. I couldn't have known that I would never get the chance to speak with him after that visit, but that ended up being the case. For that reason, I was happy to have taken the opportunity because if I hadn't, it would have been counted as a regret. One had to be a local resident or a student of history to know DiVeronica, but he was given the same hearty introductions as Sugar Ray Leonard, Marvin Hagler, Aaron Pryor and Alexis Arguello. That had to make him feel good, because in daily life that kind of spotlight, adulation and attention doesn't happen on a regular basis unless you are a Leonard, Hagler, Pryor or Arguello. That special feeling that had to have been felt by guys like DiVeronica is just one component of ‘that special magic’ that Ed Brophy and his merry band try to encourage and foster.”
Brophy was saddened at losing a focal point of his induction weekends.
“Dickie was as tough as they come and, with his crowd pleasing style, made Canastota proud every time he stepped into the ring,” Brophy, executive director at the Hall, said.
“He was an integral part of Canastota’s long and storied boxing history, which led the village to establish the International Boxing Hall of Fame to honor the entire sport. The Hall of Fame joins Canastota and the boxing community in mourning the loss of one of our own.”
It’s become an increasingly sad year. Now the kind man with the cigar has gone.