chapter seven

Preceded by the story of Marciano's youth and early army career in which he first began to box whilst stationed in Wales.

Chapter seven:



The Smoker
　
　
“I would do anything to win, defeat is never an option.”


Rocky Marciano






During the first half of the twentieth century when boxing was still on its rise to prominence before hitting her zenith in the turbulent troubled sixties, there had grown a sub-culture of its own that owed its roots to the very birth of the modern sport when most states in America had outlawed “this barbaric spectacle”, indeed it would not become universally accepted as an officially sanctioned pastime until the late thirties. Thus in order to legitimize a bout between two opponents for the benefit of an audience the combatants would be offered an “exhibition” behind the closed doors of a gentleman’s club where the hierarchy of society could witness a match between two closely matched boxers without fear of the authorities becoming involved. It was such bouts as these that provided the financial means of support for some of the greatest early champions from Sullivan through to Jeffries.
As time eased the inhibitions placed on those involved in the fight-game, and the gentleman’s clubs made way for the more accessible members only clubs, this tradition of matching two combatants against each other for the benefit of entertainment continued on, yet with a slight transformation. No longer was the match viewed purely as a spectacle of scientific self-defense, rather it became a slugfest where fighters were brought in simply to pound upon the other whilst the patrons in such national clubs as Knights of Columbus, Eagles, Elks and Hibernians, as well as the more established Legion posts and Catholic Youth clubs across America were wined and dined whilst the often hapless participants in the macabre theatre played out their drama without the assistance of sanctions or regulations to impose some form of order on to the proceedings. However, these shows did provide some purpose to the fighters involved, for one they were paid for their trouble, although the purses were deemed training expenses only so as not to impinge on the participants amateur or professional record, (none of the bouts were undertaken in order to be recorded for posterity) and secondly they gave the men in the ring experience in the machinations of the game they ordinarily never otherwise would have received.
Yet as the bouts grew more popular a larger number of less discerning members were finding themselves places in these clubs, turning the once socially graceful affair into a riotous night of binging and belligerence where even the fighters themselves would find themselves the brunt of audience jibes if they were felt to be not giving of their all; this once preserve of the dandies found itself fast becoming a microcosm of the boxing world in general. By the forties these events had garnered a name: “Smokers”, a term loosely coined from the bilious tobacco smoke that clung about the ring from the readily consumed cigars of the patrons, indeed members even began to associate themselves with the cigar itself identifying themselves in a Masonic way as being members by the puffing, or chewing, of as large a cigar as possible, or, if they did not smoke, the wearing of a lapel pin bearing the image of this tobacco filled log.
Thus it was into this carnivalesque atmosphere on the evening of April 15th 1946 that the boxer to be known later as Rocky Marciano would be unveiled upon the world outside of the Army, it was to be an inauspicious beginning and one many there that night would sooner forget.
That April the erstwhile private Rocco Marchegiano found himself on a fifteen-day furlough; after spending precious time with his family he would venture out to catch up with members of his clique who were themselves either on leave, or demobbed, amongst one of the first old acquaintances he saw on his sojourn was the older Alisay (Allie) Colombo, elder brother of Vinnie with whom Rocco had that childish falling out over a ball some twelve-years earlier. The two would reminisce about their youth and swap tales of their careers in the service, at this time Allie was a master
sergeant at the nearby Westover Air force base. He would be referred to later by Peter Marchegiano as someone who was, “…not particularly good at sports, but was a great organizer, he was the one you would go to in order to sort out rosters, for coaching, and to manage a team.” He also was a dreamer, and his dreams rested on his younger friend Marchegiano, especially when he learnt that Rocco was boxing for his base.
The two set out, in Allie’s mind at least, a failsafe plan to riches, for when his friend left the service of Uncle Sam, Allie envisaged that he would manage him as a fighter. For sure Alsack, as Rocco would call his old friend, could foresee them both scaling the summits and ruling the world. Later when this idle talk seemed on the verge of becoming a reality he would inhabit the Brockton library, amongst others, ingesting every piece of information he could find on the history and intrigues of the fight-game, for now however the pair parted with Colombo’s head filled with optimism whilst to Rocco’s mind the idea seemed nothing more than a relatively easy way to make money for he still balked at the idea of taking up the sport in earnest. Allie would have to be patient and wait at least another year before he could seriously begin to plan his world domination. Yet Rocco’s plan for “relatively easy money” would happen far sooner than he could ever have envisaged.
Forever the family man, Rocco was visiting his uncle, Mike Piccento, an avid fight fan himself; over a bottle of wine, and copious cigarettes, (a less endearing habit picked up by the normally health conscious Marchegiano in the services) the elder man was regaled with tales of his nephews prowess in the ring which would lead to uncle Mike propositioning his nephew to the possibility of fighting whilst here home on leave, the boy was keen. Wheels were set in motion quickly when the very next day Rocco was introduced to an acquaintance of his uncle’s, a former fighter by the name of Generoso Caggiano, better known as ‘Gene’, a promoter of amateur bouts in Brockton. Gene would prove pivotal in the career of young Rocco in the very near future but for now he found himself running a series of “smokers” at the local Ancient Order of Hibernian Hall and he desperately needed a heavyweight from Brockton to fill the card, he thought this would draw more locals to the show, thus he offered the bout to the eager Marchegiano, with the added incentive of thirty-dollars (his training expenses) to be paid in cash straight into his eager hands at the end of the engagement.
Yet the smoothness of this arrangement was not to be continued, for on the very day of the fight things seemed to be transpiring against young Rocco.
“I had to be there at eight o’clock, and mom picked that night to have a big family dinner for me. She didn’t know I was boxing, so I had to eat everything and act like it was just another night going out with the guys. I got to the arena stuffed from all the food, and I was still full when I went into the ring”, reflected Marchegiano before continuing.
“It was a scheduled four-rounder, and my opponent was a tough kid named Ted Lester. Allie found out later that he had been runner-up in the New England heavyweight championships two years in a row. Caggiano had promised somebody more in my class, but said he couldn’t get anyone and had to fill out the card with Lester.”
In fact Lester, whose real name was Hendrick Van Leesten, but more commonly known as Henry, had more than a decade’s experience, both in and out of the ring, than his opponent this night, it would not be the last time that the embryonic Rock would be faced by such adversity, but now, as later, he would show little respect for such odds.
“I did pretty good in the first two rounds,” continued Marchegiano. “But in the third Lester starts working on my body. I backed against the ropes, which were loose, and they sagged. My feet went out from under me and as I stumbled, I kicked him accidentally. The referee disqualified me and gave the fight to Lester. This was my first home-town fight and I lost it.”
The referee, Sned McDonald, was nevertheless adamant that the foul had been intentional, later commenting that, as he saw it, “Rocky was leaning back against the ropes as Lester threw a right uppercut, before it connected the kid just plain kneed him in the balls. I knew it, the audience knew it, there was a huge groan from the crowd.” - Including from the one voice who was alleged to have shouted just moments before the incident, “You can’t beat him so kick him in the nuts!”
“Most had come to see their local boy fight,” continued McDonald. “They went home steaming.”
Rocco would slink back to his dressing room to the jeers of the crowd. “It was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever had in my life,” admitted Rocky. “I knew I had to win, but I was exhausted. I couldn’t even lift my arms, I’d never been so disgusted and embarrassed. I just sort of slipped home quietly that night.”
On the following evening ‘Sonny’ Marchegiano confronted his eldest brother about the incident, Rocco’s reply was telling. “Sure I kicked that guy. What was I gonna do, let him beat me?…When a man’s in a fight, the only thing that matters is winning. Don’t you ever forget that. I was disqualified…, but I didn’t lose the fight.”
This was however to prove to be yet another turning point in the seemingly directionless life of Marciano, for in those first rounds before fatigue had set in, he had fought with a controlled ferocity that had caught the eye of one of the judges at the bout, a former heavyweight by the name of Joe Monte who had, in his youth fought both James J. Braddock, and Max Schmeling; he saw potential in the rough-house infighting of the Brockton boy, leading this former boxer to confide to Rocco’s father Piereno that if the lad knuckled-down and got himself into shape then possibly, just possibly, he might have a future in the sport, if only as a fringe-fighter, on the outskirts of the big time. On hearing this, Rocco vowed to get himself into shape if he ever entered the ring again. It was a promise that stuck.