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As his wife, Nancy, led me to the den
where Gil Clancy was waiting for me, I half-expected to find him wearing
a tuxedo, or at least a sharp tie and jacket with the CBS Sports logo on
the front. Most of my memories of the steely-eyed, 82-year-old are of
him looking dapper as he delivered outstanding boxing analysis on
network TV in the ‘80s, and then on HBO in the ‘90s. On this day,
however, he looked like he’d just gotten back from a fishing trip; he
was tan, barefoot, and had on green shorts, a faded Team De La Hoya
T-shirt and matching baseball cap. The gravelly voice was unchanged and,
after a few minutes of boxing talk, it was clear his observations were
as honest and astute as ever.
Clancy’s den was devoid of any boxing memorabilia. There were no
reminders of the half-century’s worth of ring legends he’s worked with
as a trainer and manager, guys like Emile Griffith, Rodrigo Valdes, Ken
Buchanan, Jerry Quarry, George Foreman and Joe Frazier, among many
others. In fact, there were mainly shots of horses (he owns a few), and
his prodigious family (he and his wife of fifty-seven years have a brood
of 6 kids, 17 grandchildren, and 10 great grandchildren). Even though
Clancy has had some health problems—heart surgery, two artificial hips,
and a melanoma taken out of his left leg last year that looks like he
tangled with Jaws—he is still a formidable presence. If he told you to
drop and give him fifty, you wouldn’t dare question him.
Before we began the interview, I attempted to break the ice by showing
him a tape of a boxing film called “TRADE,” which my father (Lear Levin)
shot in 1970. It featured Clancy working with a promising young
heavyweight at the time (who never panned out) named Forest Ward. Clancy
had never seen the film before, and though he was poked-faced, he seemed
more reflective after viewing the tape than he was before.
ZL: Forest Ward was a good-looking prospect at the time, right?
Gil Clancy: Probably the best prospect as far as making money that I
ever had. Teddy Brenner told me—later in Ward’s career—‘He’s on drugs.’
I said to him, ‘You’re out of your mind. He’s the nicest, cleanest kid I
ever met in my life.’ And then we were supposed to fight Chuck Wepner
six rounds. Teddy Brenner says, ‘Look, we want to make it an eight.’ I
said, ‘I don’t want this kid to fight eight rounds yet.’ He says, ‘Why?
He’s gonna knock Wepner out in two or three rounds anyway, you know.’ I
said, ‘Okay.’ P.S. Wepner stopped him. By that time he was on drugs,
which I didn’t know.
ZL: What kind of drugs? Do you know?
GC: I don’t know…he was a druggie, though.
ZL: I had heard that Ward had a fragile psyche, and when he kept hitting
Wepner and Wepner wouldn’t go, he kind of cracked…
GC: (cutting in) Wepner won the fight, took everything Forest had to
offer.
ZL: I was reading an article in which you list the ten greatest fighters
in history, and also the ten greatest fighters you ever worked with. I’d
like to throw out some of the names from the first list, and you can
tell me what comes to mind.
GC: Sure. Of course.
ZL: Willie Pep.
GC: Well, I think the best fighter pound for pound all time. He always
fought in the other guy’s hometown, and always when the other guy was
hot. And he’d come out and beat the guy. Just a great fighter. (After
Willie Pep, Clancy’s list is as follows: Sugar Ray Robinson, Joe Louis,
Archie Moore, Muhammad Ali, Rocky Marciano, Harry Greb, Roberto Duran,
Sugar Ray Leonard, and Harold Johsnon.)
ZL: Best defensive specialist, Pep?
GC: Well, he was a terrific all around fighter. The only guy that gave
him trouble was Sandy Sandler, because he was a freak, Sandy. Like 6
foot 1 and he could punch like a heavyweight. Outside of that, Pep just
took everybody else apart.
ZL: Sugar Ray Robinson. You have him at number two.
GC: Number two, correct. He was a great technician, could punch, and he
knew just what he had to do to win a fight. Always would pull it out at
the right time.
ZL: Archie Moore.
GC: Archie More was a guy that had his own style. Very relaxed
fighter—could probably fight 30 rounds if he had to. And again, he knew
where to place his punches and how to hurt you.
ZL: An unbelievably prodigious career, too. And even 18 years into it,
at 40 years old, he kept progressing.
GC: You couldn’t even call him the ‘old pro.’ He was ‘old old pro.’ He
knew ever trick in the book. And he was so relaxed, that’s why he never
got tired. Could probably fight forever if he had to.
ZL: When Moore lost to Marciano, he was still a brilliant light heavy,
right?
GC: Oh, absolutely. Sure. Marciano beat a very good Archie Moore. And
the fight I always remember, of course, was with Yvon Durelle, when
Moore was down five times and came back and won.
ZL: What did you think of Moore’s training habits and interesting ideas
on nutrition? (He claimed that he would chew on a steak, swallow the
juice, and spit out the rest.)
GC: Well, I think a lot of that stuff was just for press. Chewing on the
meat and spitting it out, and things like that. I don’t think he did
that at all. I think he was a good guy at getting publicity.
ZL: Did you watch him train, or learn things from him?
GC: No I didn’t watch him much. He was out in California.
ZL: Okay, another name: Muhammad Ali.
GC: Ali I’ve known forever. I knew him since he was an amateur. His best
asset, Ali’s was—nobody realizes—his best asset was that he could take
the best punch in boxing. If he couldn’t take a great punch, he would’ve
just been an ordinary heavyweight. But he could take those good punches
that other guy nailed him with, and just come right back and score
points and eventually get these guys out of there—most of them.
ZL: With few exceptions, you need to have a great chin to be successful
in the heavyweight division, don’t you?
GC: You do need a great chin, yeah. But he had the best one. The best.
ZL: Lennox Lewis had a great career but he obviously didn’t have--
GC: (cutting in) Didn’t have the best chin in the world, no.
ZL: But he was able to overcome it because…?
GC: Well, because the talent that was around. He was a big guy, talented
guy, and there wasn’t that much around in the heavyweight division.
ZL: Do you like Ali matching up against any heavyweight—I mean, I know
Norton gave him problems…but do you like him against any heavyweight
that’s ever lived?
GC: Well, I think Marciano would have given him trouble, strange as it
may seem. Even though Rocky was a small guy, he just had such a high
energy level…work level…that he’d take it out of these bigger and
stronger guys all the time. The reason I say that, I don’t know if you
remember when Ali fought George Chuvalo. Chuvalo couldn’t punch, and he
gave Ali trouble. Chuvalo’s style was a little bit similar to Marciano’s.
So with Mariciano the way he could really punch, and the style he had, I
think he would’ve always given Ali trouble.
ZL: I always figured when they had those Ali vs. Marciano debates, like
the computerized bout they did in 1970 in which Rocky stopped Ali in the
13th, that it was just white folks wanting to hold on to something from
the past.
GC: That and showbiz.
ZL: But I never gave Marciano a chance against Ali. Now I have to
reconsider some things. …On different note, I recently watched a great
fight in which you were involved: Duran-Buchanan. I know Duran is among
your top-10 greatest fighters. What’s it like facing a prime Hands of
Stone?
GC: Actually, I think it was my fault that Buchanan lost that fight.
Because Duran was knocking everybody out in a round or two, and we were
training for 15 rounds. I said to Kenny (Buchanan), ‘This guy gets to
five, six rounds, we’re gonna own him.’ No, but, Duran, he just kept
coming, nothing ever got in his way. Buchanan was, for the first time in
the fight, starting to nail Duran with some pretty good punches in the
round he got hit with the low blow. (Duran hit Buchanan with a low blow
in the 13th round, and won by TKO when Buchanan could not continue.)
ZL: Was that a low blow, for sure? I couldn’t tell from the camera
angle?
GC: Oh, definitely. Definitely was a low blow.
ZL: So in that case, do you accept the victory?
GC: Sure. I went over to the referee and tried to speak to him but…
ZL: Was there no chance Buchanan could have continued?
GC: No, he was really hurt.
ZL: Was that probably the best Duran we’ve seen?
GC: I think so. People don’t realize what a good fighter Ken Buchanan
was. Kenny was a hell of a fighter. It took a real good guy to beat him.
ZL: Was he a little too upright?
GC: Well, yeah, that was the way his style was. But he was okay. He was
strong, had good defense. He was a good all around fighter.
ZL: I saw how Duran would put his head right under Buchanan’s chin a
lot.
GC: That’s the way he did it, Roberto.
ZL: Duran didn’t have much of a jab at that time.
GC: No, but he knew where he was all the time. You just didn’t nail him
with a lot of punches, you know.
ZL: And he was in great condition at that time.
GC: Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. That’s what I didn’t think he had.
ZL: Give me your thoughts on Sugar Ray Leonard, another guy high on your
list.
GC: Ray was one of the better welterweights of all time. Great heart.
Knew what he had to do to win fights. I thought his fight when he fought
Hagler was just a great performance by Leonard. He really did a good
job. He knew exactly what he had to do to win the round, and he’d go out
and do it.
ZL: You called that fight. Can you remind me how you scored it?
GC: I had Leonard winning close, very close.
ZL: Had you been in Hagler’s corner that night—no disrespect to the
Petronellis—what would you have been telling him?
GC: I thought it was probably the worst corner job in history! The first
three rounds they had Hagler go out and fight orthodox instead of
southpaw, which is completely the wrong thing to do for two reasons:
number one, Leonard was able to win the rounds; number two, it gave him
confidence. If Hagler had fought his regular fight as a southpaw, he
would’ve won the fight.
ZL: The fighter you have at number ten on your list is the light
heavyweight Harold Johnson. He fought and lost to Archie Moore five
times, so that speaks well of The Mongoose, huh?
GC: Johnson was a great fighter.
ZL: You look at the guys he fought over his 26-year career, it’s almost
inconceivable by today’s standards. I noticed 20 years into his career,
he faced your guy Johnny Persol. Persol won. I know Persol was a fine
light heavy, but was that a matter of catching Johnson at the right
time?
GC: Johnny could really fight. He really could.
ZL: You worked Muhammad Ali’s (then Cassius Clay) corner in his first
pro fight in New York. How did that come to be?
GC: Well, I was very friendly with Angelo (Dundee). We were partners
when we first started out, and he moved down to Florida. And he came up
here for the fight and asked me to work the corner with him. And I
always joke with everybody, ‘When Ali got knocked down in the second
round, I didn’t have to revive Ali, I had to revive Angelo.’ (Clancy had
no part of Ali’s career, except for this one fight in NY against
opponent Sonny Banks.)
ZL: When you and Dundee were partners, what was the situation?
GC: We co-managed and I was a trainer and he was a trainer. We would put
a few of our guys together.
ZL: What was your opinion of the young Cassius Clay as a fighter?
GC: Same as Roy Jones. I knew he had all the talent in the world, Ali.
But I knew he made basic errors. He had so much talent that he would
make a mistake and make the other guy pay for it.
ZL: So you liken Jones to Ali in this regard? A great talent who makes
basic errors?
GC: Another guy with all the potential and talent in the world. But he
had the same habit of pulling his head back, standing straight up, just
like Ali.
ZL: Is that why Antonio Tarver caught Roy Jones?
GC: Who knows? He got hit with one punch.
ZL: Do you think Jones should take a rubber match with Tarver?
GC: I’ll tell ya, I never thought too much of Tarver. I thought Jones
would knock him out in about 5 or 6 rounds. (laughs)
ZL: Do you feel differently about Tarver now?
GC: Well, no. He just landed one solid good punch. If they fought again,
I think Roy would beat him.
ZL: Tarver keeps winning, though. I don’t think he’s pretty to look at—
GC: (cutting in) I know. I remember when he was in the amateurs, all of
the coaches used to tell me, ‘You gotta watch this guy Tarver.’ He never
really impressed me that much. He’s a big tall guy, and he’d outbox the
guy and win a decision. But it didn’t mean anything.
ZL: Is it fair to say that fighters like Roy Jones who rely on
athleticism over fundamentals, when they do slow down, and if they don’t
adapt their style, their careers are curtailed?
GC: I would have to say so, yeah.
ZL: This is a non sequitur, but I wanted to hear some of your thoughts
on Mike Tyson. He’s going to be fighting again soon. Had he stayed the
course, do you think he could’ve become one of the very best
heavyweights of all time?
GC: Oh, absolutely, he had the potential. But even in the amateurs, when
Teddy Atlas was taking care of him, if a guy would stand up to him and
hit him with a couple of punches, he didn’t want to come out for the
next round. Teddy would have to beg him, and push him, and everything
else.
ZL: I didn’t know that. I knew that he’d get real scared before fights,
but once he was in the ring, he was fine.
GC: No, no. If things didn’t go well, he wasn’t too good. He’s a bully.
If he doesn’t bully you…that’s the way Holyfield beat him. Holyfield was
one of the first guys to punch right back when he got hit. Tyson wasn’t
used to that, and that’s what happened to him in both fights with
Holyfield.
ZL: Of course Holyfield was just following Buster Douglas’ example, as
he was the first guy to knock Tyson off his pedestal—and on his ass.
GC: I don’t know if you remember, but in that fight when Buster Douglas
was coming down from his dressing room to the ring…I was watching it on
TV with my wife and I said, ‘Nancy, this guy’s coming down to the ring
dancing, like he’s got a lot of confidence in himself.’ Now, most of the
guys who fought Tyson—like Alex Stewart was a disgrace, you know, guys
like that…But this guy (Douglas) seemed like he was going to go and
fight. Sure enough, he did.
ZL: Would a mentally and physically prime Tyson have struggled with a
Lennox Lewis or Riddick Bowe?
GC: Yeah, absolutely. Guys who would hit him back.
ZL: Would Tyson’s height disadvantage and short arms also pose problems
for him against those giants?
GC: I’d say yes.
ZL: Last April, a big underdog named Lamon Brewster beat Wladimir
Klitschko. Brewster seemed motivated by the death of his trainer Bill
Slayton, the same way Buster Douglas was motivated by the death of his
mother prior to the Tyson fight.
GC: Lamon Brewster, he really didn’t win that fight. The other guy lost
the fight. I mean, he was losing the fight by a mile, Brewster.
Klitschko just couldn’t walk. He was dead tired.
ZL: What do you attribute that to, Klitschko’s collapse?
GC: The only thing it could have been was nerves. That’s the only thing
I can say, unless he was doped, and I don’t want to say that.
PART 2
ZL: You worked with George Foreman for about six fights after his fight
with Ali, until he retired in 1977. I understand he sought you out when
he was contemplating getting back in the ring 10 years later?
GC: He called me up and told me he was going to come back, and I had
been hearing stories about him—300 pounds and all this stuff. So I told
him, ‘George, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll go down to Texas and look
at you, and if I think you should come back, I’ll say, ‘Yes, you
should.’ If I tell you, ‘No,’ I expect you to stay retired.’ He says,
‘Okay, I’ll call you back tomorrow.’ He never called me back. He knew I
would’ve probably told him not to come back. Which would have been one
of the biggest errors I ever made, because he made millions of dollars.
ZL: In an interview you had done many years ago, long before Foreman’s
second act, you spoke of how Big George wouldn’t accept challenges, how
he was only interested in fights where he was positive of the outcome.
So, you must have been shocked by his comeback, in which he faced a
young big-hearted Evander Holyfield? And certainly no one thought he
could beat Michael Moorer?
GC: He surprised the hell out of me, to tell you the truth. You have no
idea how much trouble it was to get him to fight anybody when I was with
him (laughing). Again, he was handled right the second time. He didn’t
fight that many challenging guys. With Michael Moorer, in that fight I
think that was a miracle punch he threw.
ZL: Foreman claims that punch was months in the making, that it was
always part of the blueprint.
GC: Yeah, well. (shakes his head dismissively)
ZL: I guess that’s just George being George. You also called that fight
for HBO. Was that punch one of the biggest shocks you ever witnessed
since you’ve been in boxing?
GC: It was. Yup.
ZL: In his first fight back after the Ali loss, Foreman faced Ron Lyle.
It turned out to be as exciting as any five rounds you’re likely to see
among heavyweights. But in light of what you’ve said about Foreman’s
tentativeness about being challenged, did you expect Lyle would be so
tough?
GC: I expected George to have an easy time with him. I picked George up
off his face in that fight!
ZL: You’ve said that in Foreman’s second boxing career, he revealed just
how smart he is. We all know what a brilliant huckster he is, but in
what other ways did you find him clever?
GC: What I’ve said about him is that he’s smarter than Bob Arum, Don
King or anybody else. Even that second time around, Arum was trying to
get him to fight some ordinary guy. I forget who it was? I was on my way
to the airport out of Vegas. Arum asked me to stop by his office so I
could talk with George. I told him the guy he’d be fighting would be no
problem. He wouldn’t fight the guy. The guy was a nothing fighter.
ZL: Do you think Foreman saw something in this guy that maybe the rest
of you weren’t picking up on? Or was it something else?
GC: He’s a strange guy, George. Very hard to figure out.
ZL: But I guess your point is, he took the path of least resistance and
still got his title and his money. When you had Foreman as a young man,
did you realize how smart he was at that time?
GC: No, no. I did know that he was always good on his feet, even when he
just got out of the amateurs. He could get up and give and speech and
talk and really sound well.
ZL: You also handled Gerry Cooney when he was trying to make his
comeback. You’ve said that had you gotten him from the start, you could
have turned him into a great heavyweight.
GC: I thought they were overly cautious with him. And I think they
convinced him that he couldn’t fight. That’s what really happened to
him, that led him into the mental state that he was in.
ZL: I’ve talked about Cooney with Johnny Bos, who did his matchmaking.
Bos contradicts what you’re saying in that he feels Cooney actually
fought some credible opposition early in his career, guys like S.T.
Gordon and Eddie Lopez.
GC: He fought a couple good fighters early on, sure. I was the
matchmaker for Madison Square Garden when Gerry was coming up and I
matched him against some pretty good guys that he took care of in 3 or 4
rounds.
ZL: You had Joe Frazier in his first fight against Ali (March 8, 1971).
It was the only fight he won in the trilogy. Did you have him do
something different in that fight? Or did Ali’s ring-rust play a factor?
GC: No, Joe just fought exactly how Joe always fights. If he was boxing
you for an exhibition, he’d fight the same way…bobs his head back and
forth, bangs hard to the body, and that’s just what he did. And Ali was
having a lot of trouble with him.
ZL: You didn’t work Frazier’s corner in his two subsequent matches with
Ali. Had you been in his corner, would you have done anything different
from what his handlers did?
GC: Number one, strange as this is gonna sound, I would not have stopped
the fight after the 14th round. (In their third and final bout, “The
Thrilla In Manila,” Frazier’s chief second Eddie Futch retired him
before the 15th round.) I would not have stopped the fight. The
condition of both fighters going into the 15th round…if Joe would have
hit Ali with another good solid shot the way he did early so many times,
he would have knocked Ali out, because Ali was completely shot.
ZL: When they stopped the fight, Ali just collapsed.
GC: I know. I’m telling you, he was so ready to go…But Eddie said Joe
couldn’t see, so he stopped the fight.
ZL: For younger fight fans who weren’t around to witness the Ali-Frazier
trilogy, how would you describe the electricity those fights generated
in and out of the ring? I mean, their first meeting is recognized as
“The Fight of The Century.”
GC: The first fight was probably the number one sport event of all time.
World Series, Super Bowl, nothing even compared to it. People that were
lucky enough to get into the fights…if they dropped a bomb on Madison
Square Garden, the United States wouldn’t have been able to run. I mean,
so many important, distinguished people in that audience. And the
electricity in the crowd was just unbelievable.
ZL: What was it like being at the center of it all? You had to have
major butterflies?
GC: No. …I never ever got that way. I don’t know why? (laughing)
ZL: Does it take a certain kind of fighter to handle that kind of
pressure?
GC: Oh, definitely. Some guys just can’t take anything. Like Gerry
(Cooney) when he got stopped by Foreman, he was like hypnotized going
into the ring. No business being in there.
ZL: And Cooney didn’t take your advice to keep boxing and moving—
GC: (cutting in) Yeah, just wanted him to keep moving around. And he
didn’t do it. We had been working for a month, getting him to use his
right hand, because he was twice as effective when he did it. The whole
God darn first round, he didn’t throw a right hand. But he did hurt
George with a left hook in that fight. He had something wrong with him…I
can’t even think of the word now? It’s a common thing. I just can’t
think of the name now. You know what I’m talking about? In an earlier
fight, when I didn’t have him—you know, he used to kill his sparring
partners—so like a week before the fight he went out to Vegas, and I
happened to be there: sparring partners were killing him. Guys that he
was banging around everyday were banging him around. What the hell is
it? ANXIETY ATTACKS!
ZL: Oh, he did?
GC: That’s what he used to get, anxiety attacks. Even when I trained
him. When I trained him, about one out of every six or seven days, he’d
go into the ring…and a complete different person. Anxiety attack. And
that’s what happened to him, I think, with Foreman. Cause after the
first round, he come out in the second round, George couldn’t miss him!
ZL: And had he been taken along the right way, maybe these anxiety
attacks wouldn’t have happened?
GC: Oh, if he had had other opponents at first, a few more fights under
his belt, I don’t think Larry Holmes or anybody would have been a
problem for him.
ZL: A lot of pressure on a good white heavyweight, don’t you think?
GC: Oh, absolutely. No question.
ZL: And do people go after them even harder, do you think?
GC: I don’t think fighters go after them harder, no.
ZL: Some of the best fights you ever worked…I want to get some quick
impressions of them, things you recall. Monzon-Griffith? (Clancy trained
Emile Griffith from his first amateur contest through his last—109th—pro
fight.)
GC: Well, the second time they fought, I thought we had a perfect fight
for him that night. And I thought Griffith won the fight, just by
outworking Monzon. (Monzon was awarded a UD for the 15-rounder. Monzon
also won their first encounter—TKO14.) As a matter of fact, Nino
Benvenuti, who was a newspaperman for the fight…for a week, he wrote
everyday how it was a disgrace, how Griffith really won the fight, and
this and that. Again, Monzon pulled it out and won the fight.
ZL: I’m curious, where do you rate Monzon among the great middleweights?
GC: I never thought he was that great a fighter. I had (Rodrigo) Valdes
fight him twice, too. Valdes had him on the deck, and that was also
another decision that should have gone the other way. (Monzon by UD15
both times.)
ZL: You were with Jerry Quarry when he fought Ron Lyle.
GC: I don’t even know if you realize this, but Jerry could really fight.
He really knew how to fight. And on that fight, he just put everything
together. He was almost playing with Lyle. At the end of he 9th round, I
said, ‘Jerry, just go out there and have a good time.’ Because he had
the fight already won. That’s what he did.
ZL: Would Quarry have been an effective heavyweight now, in spite of his
size?
GC: Yeah, he wasn’t that big, but he was okay. He was 200 pounds.
Believe me, he could fight.
ZL: Talk to me about the Griffith-Rodriguez fights?
GC: They fought four times. The one fight they gave to (Luis Manuel)
Rodriguez, Bob Myers, a writer for the AP at that time, out in
California, he wrote us a real long letter… How bad he felt that
Griffith really won the fight, you know. It made us feel good, but…Luis
(Rodriguez) got the decision. In that fight (their second, at Dodger
Stadium, on March 21, 1963), Emile’s legs cramped up about the 8th
round, because they had a wrestling mat down instead of a regular boxing
mat, and he told me he couldn’t go on—his legs were cramping up. I said
all you can do is, go out, lean against the ropes, and just stay against
the ropes and counter punch every time he punches. But then, after
another round or two, the legs were okay again.
ZL: A wrestling mat? That saps your spring, huh?
GC: Yeah. He couldn’t move.
ZL: Why would that affect Griffith more than Rodriguez, who liked to
move so much?
GC: It probably could’ve affected Luis the same way.
ZL: Was that an example of two styles that matched perfectly?
GC: Every fight was tough. Luis was a very hard guy to fight. Didn’t
look like a great fighter, but a very good, very hard guy to fight. You
see the guys that he beat. Who the hell beat him, just Emile?
ZL: Rodriguez was always moving, and lots of flurries, right?
GC: He flurried at the end of a round, a close round, and did enough to
win the round.
Part 3
ZL: You worked a ton of fights at the old Madison Square Garden at 50th
Street. Was that, in your opinion, the best boxing venue around?
GC: Yes.
ZL: What were some of your other favorite venues to work at, as a
trainer or as a boxing analyst?
GC: I liked Ridgewood Grove (in Brooklyn).
ZL: Blue Horizon?
GC: I only worked there a couple of times.
ZL: How about St. Nicks?
GC: St. Nicks was good, too
ZL: How about some of the places out in Los Angeles?
GC: No, they were just regular arenas they set up for boxing.
ZL: The decision to be a trainer as well as a manager, why did you make
that decision?
GC: Well, when I first got started, you couldn’t be a manager unless you
belonged to the manager’s guild. And to get into the manager’s guild you
had to more or less be a wiseguy. Then, my first fighter I trained that
did anything was Ralph “Tiger” Jones. He beat five world champions,
including Ray Robinson. Never got a title shot. Well, I wasn’t the
manager. I had to give him to Bob Melnick, and I took 10%. That’s all I
got. So Melnick paired him with another trainer. But Ralph would call
me, ‘Kid, you’re gonna have to come over, you gotta help me. They don’t
tell me anything, they don’t show me anything.’ I worked with him on a
couple of fights. Eventually, it loosened up after the guild got broken
up, and I was able to do both, manage and train.
ZL: And you obviously preferred to have as much control over your
fighter as possible?
GC: Of course. All the control.
ZL: When you access your skills as a trainer and a manager, were you
equally adept at everything?
GC: I think I did everything pretty good. I took care of my own cuts,
everything. (Like most of the old-time trainers, Clancy was the cutman
in addition to being the chief second.)
ZL: Isn’t it difficult to work on a bad cut and give your fighter advice
at the same time?
GC: I did it plenty of times. It’s not hard at all.
ZL: What qualities or knowledge does a person need to have in order to
be a good trainer?
GC: First thing they have to be able to do is come to the gym everyday.
No absenteeism. You can’t say, ‘Well, I’ll come tomorrow,’ and the
fighter’s there waiting for you. That’s the first thing: Punctuality.
That’s number one. Then you have to have knowledge of boxing.
ZL: You had a tremendous work ethic. I understand you taught school all
day and would leave at 3 o’clock, be at the gym a few minutes later, and
work with your fighters till 9. It was the same pattern everyday for
years?
GC: Actually, I’d be out of there by 8 o’clock.
ZL: Oh, you lazy bum! But seriously, I guess you can’t ask your fighters
to be disciplined if you’re not disciplined yourself?
GC: Well, I always tried to run the fighters that way, you know. Tell
‘em to be at some place at a certain time, you had to be there.
ZL: Johnny Bos feels that there aren’t any real fight managers anymore—
GC: (cutting in) There aren’t! You don’t need a manager anymore. The
fighters all have promotional contracts. And the promoter is really the
manager. Once the promoter gets the promotional contract, he’s picking
your opponents. What’s there left for a manager to do?
ZL: Promoters today are notorious for protecting their product.
GC: Well, sure. And the manager would try to do the same, protect their
product. So they’re (promoters) managers.
ZL: Did you have a particular philosophy when it came to developing a
fighter?
GC: No, every fighter is different. Some fighters you could move along
quickly, others you had to really take your time with. And some guys I’d
tell them to retire, cause they just didn’t have it.
ZL: Do you think moving a fighter is like a lost art form today?
GC: Again, the promoters are moving the fighters. You ever here of a
manager moving a fighter in the last five years? It’s either Don King or
Bob Arum or Cedric Kushner or somebody else—they’re all looking to have
their fighters win.
ZL: And if they’re only interested in seeing their fighters win, it’s
hard for fighters to truly develop and become brilliant fighters. Is
that fair to say?
GC: Yeah, sure. They can’t become brilliant fighters because they have
the talent to overcome everything.
ZL: Is there a fighter you’re most proud of in terms of the way you
developed him?
GC: I guess Emile (Griffith) was the best. He was the welterweight
champ. And then—there were no junior champions in those days—he went
right from welterweight to become the middleweight champion when he beat
Dick Tiger.
ZL: Did you ever have another fighter that was as dedicated as Griffith?
GC: No, not as dedicated as he was. No matter what I told him to do, no
question he’d do it. I mean, like for example, we’d be in Vegas for a
fight and I’d tell him I wanted him to stay out of the sun. And I’d be
sitting by the pool…He wouldn’t put his foot in the sun. He’d call me,
I’d have to go over, and we’d discuss whatever the heck he wanted to
talk to me about. But if I told him not to go in the sun, that was it.
No sun.
ZL: Was that his nature or was it just the way he responded to you?
GC: I guess it’s the way he responded to me. But he was that way and it
was terrific.
ZL: Are there any fighters that come to mind that could’ve been great
but were moved terribly, and so they never rose to their potential?
GC: (long pause)
ZL: I’ll give an example. Some fighters today get a huge signing bonus
coming out of the Olympics, and their promoters, anxious to recoup on
their investment, match them too tough early on. And they’re broken
fighters at the point when they should just be coming into their own.
GC: Well, one example is Forest Ward. I…thought he was better than he
was…maybe I should have been a little more cautious with him. Cause he
was a heck of a fighter.
ZL: Did that experience inform you as you went on to manage and train
other fighters? Was it a hindsight is 20/20 kind of thing?
GC: No, I think about it. When Teddy Brenner told me to make it an 8
instead of a 6 (versus Chuck Wepner), that was my mistake. (Forrest Ward
ended his two-year pro career in 1969 with a record of 9-2-2.)
ZL: A difference between the pro game today versus the old days is that
now the TV networks are in love with fighters with unblemished records.
In the old days, you could have a ton of losses and still fight for the
championship.
GC: That’s correct.
ZL: If you were able to change this, would you prefer to see things as
they used to be? Just let fighters fight. If some losses come their way,
it’s not a death sentence.
GC: You try to avoid losses at all costs. If a fighter progresses after
a loss, maybe he’ll do a little better the next time out. Gradually he
gets up there, and somehow he winds up in a championship fight.
ZL: How did this come to be, this system where undefeated records are
given so much value, even when the records were built on nobodies?
GC: Now television really controls the fighters. HBO, Showtime, Cedric
(Kushner). And, as you said, a guy that is an Olympic champ, an
undefeated fighter, that’s all they broadcast on television. They don’t
tell you who he fought, who he beat. ‘Well, he’s 14-0!’ stuff like that.
I’ve been fooling around a little bit with a kid now, helping him a
little bit, Dimitriy Salita. He’s a Jewish kid. He’s 18-0 now, he’s got
a bout 12 knockouts. He can fight. And he’s being brought along real
slowly, so far. (Bob) Arum has him, so more or less, Arum will tell him
who he’s gonna fight, and he fights him.
ZL: Isn’t Salita coming to the end of his contract with Arum?
GC: Yeah, I think so. I think he’ll renew with Arum. He should, because
Arum has done everything well for him.
ZL: And Arum has been respectful of Salita’s religious inclinations,
allowing him not to fight on the Sabbath.
GC: Yes, he is.
ZL: Does it surprise you to see a few Jewish fighters doing well, or
boxing at all for that matter?
GC: Well, there are a couple now who can fight. (Yuri Foreman and Roman
Greenberg are two others.)
Part 4
ZL: I wanted to ask you about some of your partnerships. You and Howie
Albert had one of the most successful and enduring partnerships (as
co-managers) in boxing history. I understand you guys still speak
everyday on the phone. Can you comment on how you guys met, and
something about your relationship?
GC: Well, we met when Emile (Griffith) was going into the Golden Gloves,
and Howie brought him down to my gym to start. Howie kept coming to the
gym. I said, ‘Look, you’ve been coming down here, you seem very
interested. Why don’t I put you in the corner with me?’ And that’s the
way we started. From there he started working with some of my other
fighters, and eventually all of them.
ZL: You were working out of the Parks Department gym on 28th Street?
GC: That was my last stop. No, CYO was my last stop. But I was working
out of the Parks Department gym when Emile came.
ZL: Howie Albert saw that Emile had a terrific body, but that doesn’t
make a great fighter? (Albert worked in the Garment Center and Griffith
was one of his workers.)
GC: That’s all he saw. (laughs) He had a great body.
ZL: So the stars just aligned on that one?
GC: That’s correct.
ZL: What are some of the other close and lasting friendships you’ve made
in boxing?
GC: Ralph “Tiger” Jones. I was very friendly with him, all through his
whole career. The picture behind you is from my 70th birthday. That was
the last time I saw him. That was 11 years ago, almost 12 now. (Jones
died in 1994.)
ZL: You and Angelo Dundee were pals, right?
GC: Very friendly with Angelo for years and years. …Pete Miller was a
guy who taught me a lot. He passed away. He had been the Olympic coach.
I learned a lot from him.
ZL: Around the time my dad (Lear Levin) shot his film “TRADE,” in
1969-1970, there were a lot of young fight fanatics hanging around, guys
like Johnny Bos and “Flash” Gordon. I don’t see many characters like
that around the game anymore. (Fight agent/matchmaker Bos and “Flash”
used to print a popular boxing rag that hardcore fight fans read
religiously.)
GC: Both of those guys are my protégés. I really kept them both in
business. Let them hang around the gym all the time, you know, do
whatever they wanted to do.
ZL: Were they picking things up just through osmosis? Or did you
actually explain, ‘This is what I’m looking at, this is what I’m
thinking’?
GC: Oh, no. I talked to them about relevant things. Matter of fact,
“Flash,” he used to murder Griffith in his paper. He’d say, ‘Why won’t
Griffith fight Bennie Briscoe? He’s afraid of Bennie Briscoe,’ and all
this kind of stuff. And I’d sometimes say to him, ‘“Flash,” you use my
office…you’re still knocking Griffith. Why!?’ He’d say, ‘Emile’s afraid
of Briscoe. Put him in with Briscoe.’ If I’d put Emile in with Briscoe,
Emile would’ve won no contest.
ZL: Johnny Bos told me that “Flash” would do the same thing with him.
They were friends, but “Flash” would excoriate him in his column.
GC: Well, he was a little nutty.
ZL: Switching gears, if you were the boxing czar—if there were a boxing
czar—what are some of the reforms you’d implement to help improve the
game?
GC: Well, number one, I think we need just one commission, a national
commission. Also, a system whereby fighters are rated by one body, not
four or five different bodies the way they’re rated now. Those are the
two biggest things.
ZL: Would you do away with the “junior” and “super” weight classes?
GC: I’m old fashioned. The most I would have is 10 championship weights.
8 still is ideal, as far as I’m concerned.
ZL: What else does boxing need to do to restore itself to its past
glory? Corporate sponsorship is essential, I would think?
GC: Well, that’s the main thing. I used to work for CBS for years. The
sales people said they couldn’t sell boxing to their customers. I think
part of the reason they couldn’t sell boxing was because they sat on
their rear ends all the time. They wanted the sponsors to call them, and
it didn’t work that way. When I was at CBS, I took Jerry Solomon, who
was the head of Budweiser at the time…brought him to the gym a couple of
times, took him out to dinner, and sure enough Budweiser came and signed
a big contract with CBS for quite a few years. But the salesmen now,
they’re spoiled. They have their Super Bowl, or whatever the heck they
have. They expect you to call them.
ZL: Do you think there’s a prejudice against boxing, compared to other
sports like the NFL?
GC: We’re always going to have that. There’s always a certain group that
can’t stand boxing.
ZL: Are you optimistic about the future of boxing.
GC: Well, you know, they said boxing’s been dead ever since the time
Jack Dempsey lost. And then every world champion after that—Muhammad Ali
especially, it was, ‘Ali’s gone…Boxing’s finished!’ Somebody always
comes back up to capture the public’s imagination. Right now we’re
probably at the lowest point ever, because there isn’t any one
outstanding guy…except maybe Oscar De La Hoya, who the public really
embraces. That can change in two quick knockouts by some sensation, and
it’ll change again.
ZL: Boxing may be at a low point, yet there are still some great fights
taking place.
GC: There’s no question about it, but that’s for the fight fans. I’m
talking about the people who aren’t fight fans,
ZL: And with a weak heavyweight division, it’s hard to attract general
sports fans.
GC: Yeah. Correct.
ZL: Who are some of the fighters today that you watch and admire? Who
excites you?
GC: Bernard Hopkins. Oscar (De La Hoya).
ZL: James Toney?
GC: I’ll tell ya, he surprised the hell out of me in that last fight
(vs. Evander Holyfield). I mean, he really fought a heck of a fight. But
I think he’s a little too small to be a legitimate heavyweight.
ZL: So you’d be surprised to see him take on the bigger heavyweights
if/when he recovers from his injury?
GC: Yes. If he ever did, let’s say for example he fought Klitschko and
knocked Klitschko out, then you might have a superstar.
ZL: Have you seen any prospects that you’re particularly impressed by? I
know you’re involved with Dimitriy Salita, but are there any other young
guys that have gotten your attention?
GC: I think they’re quite a few young guys. There’s a kid by the name of
Danny Jacobs. He just won the nationals (152-pound class). I think he’s
maybe the best prospect I ever saw—and I’ve been in this business over
50 years. I never saw a kid…he can do everything! (Jacobs, who hails
from Brooklyn, also dominated his class in this year’s New York Golden
Gloves.)
ZL: Do you see him turning pro right now?
GC: I think he should. He wants to stay away for the next Olympics. I
think that’s a mistake.
ZL: Do you see him as a junior middleweight or a welterweight?
GC: He’s probably going to grow into a middleweight.
ZL: It was nice to see you broadcasting the Golden Gloves this year. You
seemed very enthusiastic about the talent.
GC: This was the best year they had in the last 4 or 5 years.
ZL: Do you like Joe Green? (165-pound NY and national Golden Gloves
champion)
GC: Oh, yeah. And Jorge Teron. Those are the three guys I like. (The
132-pound Teron just picked up his third NY Golden Gloves)
ZL: Do you like Joe Green’s prospects as a pro?
GC: Yeah, absolutely, as long as he trains with the right people.
ZL: And how about Jaidon Codrington, who won the NY Gloves at 178? You
liked him, too. (Codrington is now 1-0 as a pro. )
GC: Yes, I liked him, too. He’s very similar to Ali when he won the
Olympics. He’s about the same weight as Ali when he won the light
heavyweights; he’s a tall guy; he can blossom into a heavyweight. And he
can be a real good heavyweight.
ZL: That’s a serious compliment. He reminds you of Ali…comparable
talent?
GC: Yeah, absolutely. He’s got a lot of talent.
ZL: You said this year’s crop of Golden Gloves champions are the best
you’ve seen in 4 or 5 years. How do these guys compare to all the Golden
Glovers you’ve witnessed over the past 60 plus years?
GC: These three or four kids we’re talking about are right up there with
anybody.
ZL: You mentioned Bernard Hopkins as being a current fighter you
respect. Is he one of the best middleweights of all time?
GC: Well…I can’t go that far, no. As a matter of fact, when I was
working with Oscar (De La Hoya) and Jerry Perenchio (De La Hoya’s
promoter at the time)…When Hopkins knocked out Trinidad, I called Jerry
the next day and said, ‘Jerry, the next fight for Oscar has got to be
Bernard Hopkins.’ I said, ‘Oscar’s always looking to be a superstar, and
this fights so good it’s going to make him—because he can beat Hopkins.’
And about a week later, Jerry decided that he was too busy to handle
Oscar anymore, and he just gave him back, gave him away. So it never
took place, but now it’s going to take place—I think. And I think Oscar
is going to beat him, if he doesn’t bulk up too much. I think that would
be a big mistake. (Note: This interview took place before De La Hoya’s
poor showing against Felix Sturm. However, I called Clancy after the
fight, and asked him if his opinion of De La Hoya-Hopkins has changed:
“No, my opinion hasn’t changed,” Clancy said. “It’s strengthened my
opinion. Because, if you remember, Oscar did bulk up for the fight and
it took a lot of his speed away. That’s how come every time he landed a
couple of good punches, he wasn’t moving, and Sturm would nail him right
back. I still think he should come down and fight at his most efficient
weight.”)
ZL: That would probably surprise a lot of people. But you think he has
the right blueprint?
GC: Yeah, I think so. Very similar to Emile Griffith and Dick Tiger.
Tiger was the biggest, strongest guy at middleweight you ever saw. He
beat guys like Jose Torres, you know. And Emile not only won, he even
had him down in that fight—because of his speed. And I think Oscar’s
speed will negate anything that Hopkins does.
ZL: When Oscar was starting out, you said he had the makings to be one
of the greatest fighters ever. He’s a first ballot hall of famer, no
question, but definitely not what we would consider a top fighter
all-time. Do you feel that he fell short in some ways?
GC: No, I think he got a lot of tough breaks. For example, I thought he
won the (Felix) Trinidad fight. The only fight I think he lost was the
first fight with (Shane) Mosley. He fought a terrible fight, a stupid
fight. But against Trinidad he was so far ahead in the fight…and they
say he ran the last couple of rounds, but it didn’t make a difference.
Trinidad still didn’t hit him.
ZL: I agree with you. I thought he won that fight, and probably stole
the first 7 rounds. Did he actually let you go after that, and try to
pass the buck? (Clancy came out of retirement to serve as an advisor to
De La Hoya. He was in De La Hoya’s corner for the Trinidad fight and had
advised him to, in essence, get on his bicycle during the championship
rounds—as it appeared his fighter had swept enough of the early rounds.
But De La Hoya lost in a controversial majority decision.)
GC: No, I can tell you about that. In that fight, one judge, Jerry Roth,
didn’t give Oscar ANY of the first 5 rounds. And all he had to do was
give Oscar 1, and then Oscar would have been the winner of the fight.
Didn’t give him ANY of the first 5 rounds! There’s really no explanation
for that, because Oscar was just completely dominating him, you know.
(Note: Upon review, it appears Jerry Roth gave 3 of the first 4 rounds
to Trinidad; not each of he first 5 rounds, as Clancy states.) …Then, a
few months later, Oscar and his father call me. He had a fight in New
York (the opponent was to be Derrell Coley). They called me up and said,
‘Well, you know, the fight is going to be in New York, so you don’t have
to come out to Big Bear or nothing, just come down and work in the
corner.’ And they told me what they were going to pay me, and it was
half of what I’m used to getting. So I spoke to Arum and he said,
‘That’s what they want to pay you? Let me talk to them…I’ll call you
back tomorrow.’ He called me the next day and said, ‘That’s what they
want to pay you.’ I said, “Well, forget it. I’m not going to do it.’ So
I didn’t do it.
ZL: Maybe it’s the way the media paints it, but it often seems when
something doesn’t go well for Oscar, he cleans house.
GC: Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s Oscar that did it. I think it was one
of the other guys. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.
ZL: So if you could do it over again, do you still stand by what you
told him?
GC: Sure.
ZL: If we could go back to discussing some prospects and contenders. I
believe Tokunbo Olajide is a tremendous fighter.
GC: Yeah, I do, too. I was there when he got knocked out, too. Geez.
(Epifanio Mendoza stopped Olajide in the 1st round. In a bizarre
occurrence, Olajide broke his fibula as he fell to the ground after
absorbing a two-punch combination to the head, and then dislocated his
ankle as he attempted to get up.)
ZL: I think it’s only a matter of time before he proves himself the best
jr. middleweight in the world—and that division is thick with talent.
GC: Yeah, Tommy Gallagher really likes him a lot. (Gallagher is
Olajide’s manager.) I like him a lot. He can punch.
Part 5
ZL: Who are some of the trainers working today that you’re impressed
with?
GC: Well, Freddie Roach is doing a good job. (pause) Teddy Atlas.
ZL: Is the role of the trainer ever overstated?
GC: No—if they’re good trainers. Some guys have their uncle training
them or whatever the hell else. And they don’t even know what to do,
they don’t even know how to put the gloves on—they’re “the trainer.”
ZL: How common is it to have fantastic trainers on the amateur level,
guys who develop fighters from scratch, teach them everything they need
to know? But the fighters inevitably get stolen away by a big promoter,
who then gives them to a “name” trainer.
GC: Yeah, that’s what happens ALL the time, from the beginning of time.
ZL: A classic scenario in boxing, huh?
GC: Usually the first guy, the guy that got him in the amateurs, had him
win the Golden Gloves or the Nationals, that’s the guy who’s really
doing the training. Then if they turn pro with some other trainer that’s
got a reputation…it’s not the same thing.
ZL: Who are some of the best boxing minds that you’ve come across, other
than yourself? Any people that ever astounded you with their insights
into the game, or had a rare ability to see things others didn’t?
GC: Well, Ray Arcel…he was great, he really was. He knew his way around.
Maybe Teddy Atlas.
ZL: Oh, really
GC: Yeah.
ZL: Atlas seems to be focusing more on broadcasting than working with
fighters these days. Do you enjoy his fight analysis?
GC: Yeah, he’s okay.
ZL: Your fight analysis for CBS and HBO was top-notch. When you watch
Atlas do his thing now on “Friday Night Fights,” do you ever find
yourself thinking, ‘I’d have called that one differently,’ or ‘I’d have
pointed this out’?
GC: No, I wouldn’t say that.
ZL: When you worked opposite a great cornerman, were you in a sense
dueling him? Like when Ray Arcel came out of retirement to work with
Duran who fought your guy Buchanan. Was it ever like playing chess, with
the boxers being the pieces?
GC: No. I would take care of my own guy, and whatever the other guy did
we would try to do something to counteract it. I never paid too much
attention to who was training the other guy.
ZL: I know you’ve spoken on this before, but I wanted to ask you about
the third fight between Emile Griffith and Benny “Kid” Paret (March 24,
1962). How difficult was it for the both of you to come back to boxing
after a tragedy like that? (Paret fell into a coma and died ten days
later of injuries sustained during the bout, which was the first ring
death seen by millions on American national television.)
GC: Well, it was very difficult because of what happened. And Emile, you
know, was devastated by the whole thing. …We used to have a lot of
over-the-weight fights in those days, if a championship wasn’t at stake.
But I knew if I put him in that kind of fight, he wasn’t going to
perform at all. So I put him in a title fight in his next fight (against
Ralph Dupas). After that Paret thing, he wouldn’t really go after the
guy until the guy hit him a couple of times, and then he’d start to
fight.
ZL: So when something like this happens, a guy does lose his killer
instinct, so to speak?
GC: I think so, yeah.
ZL: You also believe that Paret calling Griffith a “maricon”
(homosexual) before the fight played no part in the events that
followed?
GC: Absolutely not! Absolutely not!
ZL: Rather, you feel it just came down to Griffith throwing so many
punches, in such a short period of time, and the referee not breaking it
up soon enough?
GC: Well, Emile hit him with 17 punches in 5 seconds.
ZL: Ruben “Hurricane” Carter stopped Griffith in one round, was Carter
that ferocious a puncher?
GC: No! It’s all Emile. I told Emile, ‘Just box this guy for about 5
rounds, and then after that you’ll own him.’ Meanwhile, Emile met Rocky
Graziano on a street corner (before the fight), and Rocky says to him,
‘Hey, Emile, knock this guy right out.’ (laughs) Emile went after Carter
in the 1st round, and Carter nailed him on the side of the head; he went
down, he got up; and he was actually marching towards Carter when the
referee stopped it. And I was glad the referee stopped it. There’s no
sense…he would’ve taken an awful lot of punishment for the next minute
and a half.
ZL: Moving on, I’d like to learn more about your background and what led
you to boxing. Where did you grow up?
GC: Rockaway Beach (Long Island, NY).
ZL: What’d your parents do? What kind of childhood did you have?
GC: My father was a sign painter and my mother was a housewife. I played
every sport.
ZL: When did you find boxing?
GC: I went in the Army first, and when I came out of the Army I went to
NYU and studied Phys. Ed (earning a master’s degree). Boxing was part of
the program. So I was involved in that. And the PAL must have called me,
the job placement center, and they were looking for a boxing coach. They
called me down to see if I’d take the job. Started out at a $1000 a
year. South Jamaica (Queens), an all-black neighborhood. (laughs) I
didn’t even have a car!
ZL: Were you accepted over there?
GC: Oh, yeah. Sure.
ZL: Was it always comfortable for you to mix with other cultures and
people from different backgrounds?
GC: I never had a problem. I never had a problem with blacks or any
other ethnic group.
ZL: So you were never a fighter yourself?
GC: No.
ZL: Was that a disadvantage?
GC: Well, when I say never, I did box in the Army.
ZL: How many fights did you have in the Army?
GC: Maybe four or five.
ZL: What weight did you fight at?
GC: Middleweight.
ZL: Were you okay?
GC: Oh, yeah, I was good.
ZL: You didn’t have some hunger to go pro?
GC: No. I lost one fight to a light heavyweight. The one fight I lost.
ZL: Was fighting especially difficult for you? I know your left eye is
impaired. (When he was three, a sliver of steel got caught in his left
eye. He can see fine out of the side of the eye.)
GC: No, it didn’t bother me. It just seemed natural.
ZL: When you taught school, were you strictly a Phys. Ed. teacher?
GC: I taught everything. History…math.
ZL: Had you always wanted to be a teacher of some kind?
GC: When I graduated from NYU, I did it mostly because of the economy—to
make a buck. That’s really why I went into it. Then I enjoyed it.
ZL: Did you have designs at that time on a career in boxing as a
trainer/manager?
GC: Ahh…let me think about it…well, I told you, I took that job at the
PAL. I was taking it for the money, believe it or not, $1000 a year! Of
course, right from the very beginning, I was bitten by the boxing bug.
ZL: How were you as a trainer when you were started out?
GC: I think I did well. Cause I told you, I had Tiger Jones. He was my
best guy. Then later on in the amateurs I had…every single year, for
about maybe five or six years, I had a couple Golden Gloves champs.
ZL: Were you a big fight fan growing up?
GC: Well, my father was. My father was involved in boxing a little bit.
I used to listen to it on the radio.
ZL: Do you think you have natural ability as a trainer and teacher?
GC: I guess so.
ZL: Were there certain boxers or trainers that you gleaned things from?
GC: I guess there was, but it’s hard to think of any one in particular.
ZL: Is it more satisfying to take a fighter from the beginning, from
scratch, and take him along?
GC: Absolutely. There’s no question about that. Most of my guys, I took
all the way. Sometimes, the amateur coach develops a kid, then they turn
pro and are turned over to one of the well-known trainers. But it’s
actually the amateur guy that taught the kid how to fight.
ZL: Did you have some good amateur fighters that were taken away from
you, because you weren’t successful enough at the time?
GC: Ahh…I guess I did have a few leave.
ZL: Any names you care to mention?
GC: Eddie James. He was the outstanding fighter of the Golden Gloves. I
gave him away. There were about four or five others.
ZL: Painful when that happens?
GC: Sure!
ZL: How did you land Rodrigo Valdes?
GC: He came from Columbia. And Oscar Conill—who has passed away—I had
sent him on a scouting trip, believe it or not. He came back to me and
said, ‘I like this kid Valdes.’ He weighed about 142 when he came up,
couldn’t speak a word of English, and he was half starving to death. I
put him with my friend Chino’s wife—Chino Govin, he was a trainer.
Rodrigo lived with Chino. Eventually, he wound up being the middleweight
champion of the world.
ZL: And so the fighters you worked with that were already established,
or that you didn’t have a hand in from early on, did it feel more like a
gig with them?
GC: No, no. Like with Valdes, I was just as close to him. I felt like I
had poured a lot of stuff in him. And it all worked out. With him it was
like I was taking him from the beginning, even though he’d had amateur
fights down in Columbia, no pro fights.
ZL: Are the fighters today as well conditioned as they used to be?
GC: I don’t think so, no.
ZL: What’s missing?
GC: Their attitude, their hard work ethic—I don’t think a lot of them
have it anymore. Back 20 years ago, 30 years ago, these kids, they’d
work all day on tough jobs, then come in and train…spar 10, 12, 15
rounds. Nowadays, these kids, after 4 rounds they’re tired.
ZL: If you were working with a kid today, would you do the same things
with him now as you did in 1955?
GC: No, I might include a little weight training. And as far as
nutrition goes, I was always trying to get them to eat the right stuff
at the right time.
ZL: Some trainers don’t make good cornermen, and vice versa. Have you
found that to be the case? It’s a certain gift to be able to give the
right advice at crucial moments?
GC: No question about it. Some guys get so excited, the fighter can’t
even understand him. Or when two or three guys talk at the same time, it
should never be like that. One guy should do the talking, the other guys
don’t say a word.
ZL: You said earlier that you were always as cool as a cucumber.
GC: Well, the one time I slapped Emile, he knocked out Paret. But I knew
what I was doing, believe me.
ZL: When you slapped Emile, that was effective. You got him to do what
you needed him to do. Was that premeditated or spontaneous?
GC: I slapped him because…they give you a vacant stare look. They’re not
even hearing what you’re saying. I just had to bring him out of it.
ZL: What are some of the qualities you look for in a prospective fighter
when you’re evaluating him?
GC: Natural athletic ability is number. And number two is, do they like
the job, do they like the work? If they’re haphazard, those are the kind
of kids that never really make it.
ZL: How important is it for a kid to be able to respond well to
punishment? Not “well,” no one likes to get hit, but…
GC: That’s very important, very important. For example, listen, Salita
was in his first 8-round fight, and he fighting an experienced guy
(Rocky Martinez). The guy nailed him a few times, but every single time
the guy nailed him, he punched right back and took the play away from
him. Immediately! That’s one of the things you look for.
ZL: Is that psychological makeup, or is it a matter of being in great
condition?
GC: No, I think it’s psychological makeup.
ZL: And you can’t always see it at the gym?
GC: No, you can’t.
ZL: I wanted to ask you about a heavyweight that I’ve always found
intriguing, Sonny Liston. I don’t believe you worked with him, but did
you know him at all?
GC: No, just hello and goodbye.
ZL: Was he as scary a man as they say he was?
GC: Oh, sure. Everyone was scared to death of him. He always gave you
that baleful look, no matter what. He was suspicious of everybody.
ZL: I heard from an old timer that when a boxing gym got wind Liston was
coming through town, they take down their good equipment and put up the
ratty stuff, cause he’d literally beat the stuffing out of it. Any truth
to this?
GC: I don’t believe it, no.
ZL: Too bad, I’d always liked that story—it made me think of a little
defenseless town bracing itself before a hurricane struck…. Here’s
something I’ve been looking forward to asking you about: the Liston-Ali
fights. They fought twice. It’s a subject of much debate. Was there a
fix? (In the second bout, the more controversial of the two, Ali knocked
Liston out in 1 round with a short right hand—it was so short, almost no
one saw it; Ali called it “the anchor punch.”)
GC: No. In the second fight, Ali really hit him. One my fighters, Alex
Miteff, fought Ali. Miteff was a tough, tough guy from Argentina. And he
was really doing a pretty good job on Ali’s body. All of a sudden, Ali
just hit him with a little right hand: down and out for ten. Ten! Just
caught him right.
ZL: I’ve heard that Liston bet on himself to lose?
GC: You’ll always hear that kind of crap.
ZL: The Liston that Ali fought was pretty shopworn. He wasn’t the same
fighter he once was, right?
GC: No, he was still a pretty tough guy.
ZL: In 1978, you became the matchmaker for Madison Square Garden, and
held that position for three years. Tell me about the experience? Did
you enjoy it?
GC: Well, it was a tough job, I’ll tell you that. I joke about it: it
was the only time I ever had high blood pressure, cause I had to deal
with (Mike) Jones and (Dennis) Rappaport. They had Gerry Cooney. They
were pretty terrible. But it was a tough job. Somebody wins every fight,
and somebody also loses. And the losers are always angry at you, and the
winners are always for you.
ZL: In what way were Jones and Rappaport difficult to deal with?
GC: Oh, no matter what you offered them…let’s say I was doing them a
favor. I’d normally pay $5,000 for a main bout, or whatever it is. And
I’d say, ‘Look, I’m going to give you $7,500.’ And I figured they only
expected 5K. The very next word out of their mouth would be, ‘What about
my training expenses? And how many free tickets do we get?’ (laughs) You
know, stuff like that. You could never satisfy them. Never.
ZL: What was your relationship like with Teddy Brenner? (Brenner was a
former matchmaker for MSG, among other major venues, and was perhaps the
best-known matchmaker in boxing history.)
GC: Oh, a very close relationship.
ZL: When you were serving as a matchmaker, what was your goal, what did
your job entail?
GC: Make the best fights for the fans, and bring the asses into the
seats.
ZL: Was it an odd experience working as a matchmaker, in that when you
were training and managing fighters your number one priority was your
fighter—giving him a fight he’s going to win and, secondly, have him
look good doing it? When you’re a matchmaker, you must be dispassionate,
neutral.
GC: Also, you want the popular guy to win, the guy that’s going to sell
the tickets. So, you know, you try to give him a little edge in the
fight if you possibly can.
ZL: What were some of the biggest fights that you made while you were
working for the Garden?
GC: Cooney-Norton.
ZL: How did you expect that fight to go? (Gerry Cooney obliterated Ken
Norton in 1 round (May 11, 1981), setting the stage for a mega fight
with Larry Holmes the following year.)
GC: I thought Cooney would knock him out. I didn’t think it would happen
that fast.
ZL: In 1981, you became a boxing analyst for CBS. Many fight fans, and I
count myself among them, consider you one the best that’s ever done it.
GC: Thanks.
ZL: Did you take to it easily?
GC: Well, the way it happened, I was at a cocktail party with Angelo
(Dundee). And Barry Frank was there. He was the president of CBS Sports.
And we always used to joke around, Angelo and I. So Barry Frank says,
‘Could you guys do that on the air?’ I say, “Sure.’ The next week we
were on the air from Italy. And that’s what started it. I don’t think I
ever was nervous with it or anything. It was just watching the fight and
talking about it.
ZL: Who did you enjoy working with?
GC: Well, Tim Ryan (CBS), naturally. Sam Rosen (MSG; they do the New
York Daily News Golden Gloves together). I like Sam a lot.
ZL: Howard Cosell made for great TV…didn’t really know boxing too well,
did he?
GC: He really did not know boxing. Alex Wallau was the guy who used to
give him all the information before a fight, tell him who to tout. Once
Alex told Cosell something, it became gospel with him, and he’d be
saying, ‘Look at this, look at that!’ He didn’t know boxing too much at
all.
ZL: Rest assured, no one will ever accuse Gil Clancy of that.
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