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  • #21
    Smoky and the Color Line by Willie Pep 229

    Early November 1932, a small smoker in Hell's Kitchen, New York City

    Promoter: I told you Smoky I don't use no Negros; you said he was Irish.

    Smoky: I said he was Black Irish.

    Promoter: That's not what that means.

    Smoky: What's the difference this kid can fight.

    Promoter: Yea, like the last two bums you brought me. One didn't make it out of the first round and I was amazed the second one got past touching gloves.

    Smoky: Well that was unfortunate but hey, I said this kid can fight.

    Promoter: Yea sure, but I don't use Negros, causes too much trouble.

    Smoky: What trouble?

    Promoter: (Indignant) What trouble? The last time they started throwing chairs when that colored boy you brought me knocked out Sailor Bud.

    Smoky: Hey, throwing chairs is part of the fight game, happens all the time. But that kid sure could fight couldn't he?

    The Promoter waves his hand in disgust and starts to walk away. Smoky chases after, pulling up his pant leg.

    Smoky: Look here (pointing at his leg.) I got that last year, the night they disqualified Carnera. You remember?

    Promoter: Yea, you're damn straight I remember. - put your leg down I don't want to see your battle scars.

    The Black Fighter: Look Mr. I fight real clean, I ain't no dirty fighter. I promise . . .

    Promoter: (Cutting the kid off), It ain't you kid I just don't use colored fighters no more, just isn't worth it.

    The Promoter turns to walk away but Smoky is after him.

    Smoky: What about the purse, you promised me 50 bucks?

    Promoter: (Annoyed) And you promised me an Irish kid.

    Smoky: Black Irish!

    Promoter: (Really annoyed) That's not what that means!

    Frustrated the Promoter mumbling, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills. Smoky eyes the thick wad with envy. The Promoter pulls off a five and offers it to Smoky.

    Smoky: How about ten, five for the kid and five for me?

    Promoter: You want the five?

    (Smoky grabs the five and the Promoter walks out towards the arena.)

    Smoky eyes the five in his left hand and with his right pulls from his pocket a quarter, a dime, and three pennies.

    Smoky: (To the kid.) Why did you tell me you were Irish for?

    The kid gives Smoky a confused look; Smoky walks over and sticks the five dollar bill in the kid's big hand.

    Smoky: Go eat kid.

    Hungry the kid doesn't hesitate and vanishes out the door.

    Smoky looks longingly down the corridor into the arena. He can see the ring posts and the ringside crowd cheering the fight. After a moment Smoky opens the locker room door and steps out into the alleyway. He hears the bell ring ending the round and the crowd cheer as the door slams shut silencing the crowd.

    A cold November wind chills him and he turns his collar to the cold. He take his fedora, blocks it, straightens its peak and settles it back onto his head. Pulling a half cigar from his coat he chops down on it, walking slowly towards the street, hoping he will stumble across a soup line.




    Last edited by Willie Pep 229; 05-20-2022, 08:56 AM.

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    • #22
      Originally posted by Willie Pep 229 View Post
      Smoky and the Color Line by Willie Pep 229

      Early November 1932, a small smoker in Hell's Kitchen, New York City

      Promoter: I told you Smoky I don't use no Negros; you said he was Irish.

      Smoky: I said he was Black Irish.

      Promoter: That's not what that means.

      Smoky: What's the difference this kid can fight.

      Promoter: Yea, like the last two bums you brought me. One didn't make it out of the first round and I was amazed the second one got past touching gloves.

      Smoky: Well that was unfortunate but hey, I said this kid can fight.

      Promoter: Yea sure, but I don't use Negros, causes too much trouble.

      Smoky: What trouble?

      Promoter: (Indignant) What trouble? The last time they started throwing chairs when that colored boy you brought me knocked out Sailor Bud.

      Smoky: Hey, throwing chairs is part of the fight game, happens all the time. But that kid sure could fight couldn't he?

      The Promoter waves his hand in disgust and starts to walk away. Smoky chases after, pulling up his pant leg.

      Smoky: Look here (pointing at his leg.) I got that last year, the night they disqualified Carnera. You remember?

      Promoter: Yea, you're dman straight I remember. - put your leg down I don't want to see your battle scars.

      The Black Fighter: Look Mr. I fight real clean, I ain't no dirty fighter. I promise . . .

      Promoter: (Cutting the kid off), It ain't you kid I just don't use colored fighters no more, just isn't worth it.

      The Promoter turns to walk away but Smoky is after him.

      Smoky: What about the purse, you promised me 50 bucks?

      Promoter: (Annoyed) And you promised me an Irish kid.

      Smoky: Black Irish!

      Promoter: (Really annoyed) That's not what that means!

      Frustrated the Promoter mumbling, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wade of bills. Smoky eyes the thick wade with envy. The Promoter pulls off a five and offers it to Smoky.

      Smoky: How about ten, five for the kid and five for me?

      Promoter: You want the five?

      (Smoky grabs the five and the Promoter walks out towards the arena.)

      Smoky eyes the five in his left hand and with his right pulls from his pocket a quarter, a dime, and three pennies.

      Smoky: (To the kid.) Why did you tell me you were Irish for?

      The kid gives Smoky a confused look; Smoky walks over and sticks the five dollar bill in the kid's big hand.

      Smoky: Go eat kid.

      Hungry the kid doesn't hesitate and vanishes out the door.

      Smoky looks longingly down the corridor into the arena. He can see the ring posts and the ringside crowd cheering the fight. After a moment Smoky opens the locker room door and steps out into the alleyway. He hears the bell ring ending the round and the crowd cheer as the door slams shut silencing the crowd.

      A cold November wind chills him and he turns his collar to the cold. He take his fedora, blocks it, straightens its peak and settles it back onto his head. Pulling a half cigar from his coat he chops down on it, walking slowly towards the street, hoping he will stumble across a soup line.






      Good stuff Pep

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      • #23
        Excuse me, I forgot which shthole I was in.
        Last edited by The Old LefHook; 05-22-2022, 02:54 PM.

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        • #24
          Originally posted by The Old LefHook View Post
          Boxing fiction is hard to come by. Like we talked about before, Jack London did it at least once with A Piece Of Steak. Did anyone even read that? Let me know if you did.

          I know of a couple of pretty good movies, but written stories seem to be rare. Fat City was awfully good, and probably a book before a movie. I don't know if there is a lot of pulp garbage written about boxing or not. Good fictional boxing stories are hard to locate.

          Whaddya got? Especially the good stuff. We will even take YOUR stuff! Maybe you wrote a boxing story once upon a time.

          If you publish right here we will find someone that promises to match you with their own tale. Don't be shy. Step up!
          Cashel Byron
          The Professional
          Fifty Grand
          Fat City
          The Contender
          The Harder They Fall

          The Professional by W C Heinz, and Fifty Grand by Hemingway are probably the tops ,imo.
          Last edited by Ivich; 05-28-2022, 03:24 AM.

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          • #25
            We'll probably never see the likes of Joe Palooka again.

            Wonder if any graphic novels have covered the topic? I don't read them and are ignorant of the topics they embrace.

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            • #26
              Originally posted by billeau2 View Post
              The movie REquiem for a heavyweight... Great film.

              Oscar Wilde wrote a story about an idiot Savant who ws a violin Virtuosa and boxing prize fighter elite... But he has to choose because his hands will not whether boxing if he hopes to play the violin. I forgot the name of the story.
              - - What if he'd been a brain surgeon operating on U?

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              • #27
                Originally posted by The Old LefHook View Post
                Boxing fiction is hard to come by. Like we talked about before, Jack London did it at least once with A Piece Of Steak. Did anyone even read that? Let me know if you did.

                I know of a couple of pretty good movies, but written stories seem to be rare. Fat City was awfully good, and probably a book before a movie. I don't know if there is a lot of pulp garbage written about boxing or not. Good fictional boxing stories are hard to locate.

                Whaddya got? Especially the good stuff. We will even take YOUR stuff! Maybe you wrote a boxing story once upon a time.

                If you publish right here we will find someone that promises to match you with their own tale. Don't be shy. Step up!
                George Bernard Shaw wrote "Cashel Byron's Profession".

                Jeffery Farnol wore several bare knuckle boxing scenes in a few of gis boos, especially "The Broad Highway". Louis L;amour wrote a few, likely pulp stories.

                A.J. Liebling wrote an excellent book called ":The Sweet Science". He was a famous boxing journalist. T.K. Stewart wrote several good boxing books.He wa aalos a well knwon boxing journalist. And I'd bet you could find lots on the internet

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                • #28
                  Originally posted by The Old LefHook View Post
                  Boxing fiction is hard to come by. Like we talked about before, Jack London did it at least once with A Piece Of Steak. Did anyone even read that? Let me know if you did.

                  I know of a couple of pretty good movies, but written stories seem to be rare. Fat City was awfully good, and probably a book before a movie. I don't know if there is a lot of pulp garbage written about boxing or not. Good fictional boxing stories are hard to locate.

                  Whaddya got? Especially the good stuff. We will even take YOUR stuff! Maybe you wrote a boxing story once upon a time.

                  If you publish right here we will find someone that promises to match you with their own tale. Don't be shy. Step up!
                  "Rodney Stone (famous) and "The Mystery of Cloomber" 2 boxing novels writtenr by Conan Doyle. I just recalled them. Doyle was a well known amateur boxer himself, and was so famous as an all round sportsman (first class cricketer) that he was ivited to referee the fight between Jim Jeffries and Jack Johnson. ANd he wass a world falous writer as we all know.

                  People wuld have attended just as much to see him as to see the fight

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                  • #29
                    Originally posted by Willie Pep 229 View Post
                    We'll probably never see the likes of Joe Palooka again.

                    Wonder if any graphic novels have covered the topic? I don't read them and are ignorant of the topics they embrace.
                    - - Picked up "graphic novel" of sorts at my public library sale, labeled as kid's graphics for $0.50.

                    Open Borders by Bryan Caplan and Zach Weinersmith. Cap a Perfesser of Economics and Zach a comic and comedy writer, and let me tell you, they don't disappoint by mixing up dense economic data with blithe one liner haha, hoho heehee comedy cracks and graphics.

                    Free, open border migration of 90% "people of color," the latest new sociology demographic resulting in South America, et al, India, and African migration where where more than a billion can be settled comfortably in the largely "empty" midwest resulting in an instantaneous doubling of the Gross Domestic Product resulting in more tax revenues to the gumint to be redistributed presumably to those poor people of color to help in their resettlement.

                    At least 100+ sourced references used in the creation of this graphic comic!!!

                    The irony of Africa being the richest resources continent in the world and South America being on a par basis in those resources with Mexico and North America would appear to be lost on those comic economists as well as their keys to their homes which will presumably become unlocked to help settle these new migrants rounded up and branded like cattle before relocation to North America.

                    There must be hundreds of database think tank INCs getting paid by our gumint to pump out these gemstones for our politicians to make policy with!
                    Willie Pep 229 likes this.

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