by Paul O'Brien
Maw Maw and Jinky walked the black-and-white checkered floor toward their table, which was set for four. The champ took a quick look around to see if anyone had noticed him. Maw Maw shot his wrist out from his sleeve and watched the minute hand move closer to their meeting time.
Both men sat.
“I used to do a lot of business here, when Terry Garland was the boss,” Maw Maw said. “You never had to worry about anything with Terry. He made good payoffs—always on time. His son was supposedly good, too, until he got himself killed.”
“He got killed?” Jinky asked.
“These fucking guys rub each other out regularly.” Maw Maw flashed a little smile as he rubbed his hands together. Jinky could tell that something was off.
“What is it?” Jinky asked.
“Well—usually, we’d wait for another six months, or so, before considering this kind of offer,” Maw Maw said.
“Why is that?” Jinky asked.
“Because these guys are all over the place right now,” Maw Maw said.
“So why are we doing business with them?”
“We’re not doing business with them.”
The champ was confused, but Maw Maw didn’t like talking about any deals until something was signed.
“We’re doing business with someone we know. A friend of ours,” Maw Maw said.
“What makes you think that these wrestling guys are going to do what your friend says?”
“Because my friend is the only shot they have left. It’s perfect.” Jinky smiled; Maw Maw nodded in return. “They’re desperate, and there’s no better time to do business with someone,” Maw Maw said as he stood up.
“Exactly,” Ade said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
Maw Maw hugged Ade. “You look beautiful.”
Jinky stood too. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”
Maw Maw smiled. “This is our friend.”
“Your wife?” Jinky asked.
“Thank you,” Ade said, as she sat in the seat her husband pulled out for her. “And you’re right: in the midst of desperation is the best time to do business.”
Maw Maw and Jinky sat too. They could see from the smile on Ade’s face that she had taken no offense at all. Rather, she looked like she was enjoying the fact that the wrestling business was in such bad shape in New York. “Lenny Long will be joining us soon,” Ade said. “Just let him—you know, think that he knows what he’s talking about. Then later, we’ll do the actual deal.”
Maw Maw kissed his wife on the cheek. He was so proud of her, he could barely compose himself.
Ginny managed the full outfit this time. Head to toe, he was ready: he was shaven, and his hair was brushed. It was nearing the best time in the world for him. Every footstep that went past his door and every car light that flashed past his window made him more excited. Ginny sat patiently, even though he could hardly sit still. It was his time of the day to be younger, and to not be afraid. He could remember himself as a boy along with the simple things that used to fascinate him.
He didn’t care that the people who came into his room wanted him back in his leisurewear. He didn’t even answer them—he didn’t listen when they tried to talk to him. Ginny sat by the door and waited for days, but nothing came.
So he decided to wait some more.
Lenny pulled his chair up to the table. He was a little starstruck by the champ sitting across from him. He hid his fannishness as best as he could as he shook everyone’s hand.
“Looks like you’ve gone a few rounds yourself, champ,” Jinky said to Lenny.
Lenny smiled. “Yeah, I fell down my stairs.”
“I love to make people fall down stairs,” said Jinky to a round of laughs.
“I know you do,” Lenny replied. “It’s a pleasure.”
“So, what have you got for us, Lenny?” Maw Maw asked.
Lenny took a sip of water and began to compose himself. “I want to do a piece of business with you guys. I want to put the wrestling champion of the world against the boxing champion of the world.”
“Obviously this wrestling champion loses, whoever he is,” Jinky replied.
“You beat him, yes,” Lenny replied.
“How badly, is the question,” Jinky said.
“Barely,” Lenny said.
Jinky was offended, but Maw Maw held him back by placing a soothing hand on the champ’s forearm.
“What Lenny means is that it has to be competitive to a point. That way both sides get something from it,” Ade said.
Lenny agreed. “Our guy looks good in defeat—that’s what I want. I want people to remember the heroics of our champ. I want him to be talked about and remembered. I don’t care if he wins or loses.”
“How do we do this?” Maw Maw asked.
Lenny struggled a little with his collar. He was hot. Anxious. “Here’s the way I see it,” Lenny said. “Each side puts in one hundred thousand. That way, if anyone fucks around, goes into business for themselves, or pulls out the other side, we will at least get paid. We’ll bill it as the ‘world’s first superfight’ or ‘champion versus champion for pride and legacy.’ ‘Which is the better sport?’”
“Sport?” Jinky said, laughing, “You guys are calling yourselves a sport?” Jinky’s attitude was starting to annoy Lenny. Maw Maw, on the other hand, smelled money—lots of it. With a planned finish, he could get his champ in and out with guaranteed money and no injuries or defeat.
“Have you got a hundred grand?” Ade asked.
Lenny nodded.
“’Cause the last time we met I had to give you money for that suit,” she pointed out.
“Do you like it?” Lenny asked.
Ade nodded.
“I’ve got the money,” Lenny reiterated. “And we plan on putting this on closed circuit; selling the rights across the country. Ticket sales alone would be huge,” Lenny said.
Maw Maw liked the idea, but felt that he had to lay down the golden rule before anything more was discussed. “I’m just saying this to you now, Lenny: if you or any of your crew tries to go off script in the match, he will kill your boy. I mean it. Don’t try to make yourself off the back of our champ.”
Lenny replied, “You have my permission to destroy anyone, including my champion—if you can—if the match goes bad.”
“If I can?” Jinky asked.
Lenny nodded. “If you can.”
Jinky and Lenny stared at each other.
“Gentlemen, are we here to talk business, or not?” Ade asked.
“A good wrestler will always destroy a great boxer,” Lenny said directly to Jinky’s face.
Jinky slammed his fist on the table and stood up to strike. “Are you trying something, boy?”
“No,” replied Lenny, calmly.
“You think the few bangs and scrapes you’ve got on your face make you a fighter?” Jinky asked.
Maw Maw stood in between both men; he could see the money going down the drain. He walked Jinky back a little, and Ade took the distance between both camps as an opportunity to talk to Lenny.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ade asked.
“They’re going to sign,” Lenny said.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Lenny knew what he was doing; he just couldn’t tell Ade that. “We need to announce this on our TV next week. Nobody inside the business can know, only us. We’ll call a press conference with the boxing press and the wrestling magazines that morning. Our TV will film it.”
“Why are you trying to annoy these guys?” Ade asked.
“They’re going to sign,” Lenny repeated.
“You need to go. I’ll finish this off.”
Lenny looked over Ade’s shoulder. He could see that the meeting was over for him.
“Okay,” Lenny said. He stood, fixed his new jacket, and walked away. He purposefully walked away like a man who was disappointed and dejected; but from the front, where he knew they couldn’t see him, Lenny looked li
ke a man who had just won the lottery.
“What the fuck was that?” Maw Maw asked Ade as he came back to the table.
“Sit,” she said. She was aware that everyone was watching.
“I’m going to follow that jumped-up little prick and beat his ass,” Jinky said.
“Listen to me, both of you,” Ade said. “This is the measure of where they’re at. They’re there for the taking. Do you hear me?” Ade tried to get both men to focus.
“I don’t know—” Maw Maw said.
“His champion is his own son. He has no experience—he’s no problem to us. We can have New York. Do you hear me?” Ade said.
Maw Maw nodded.
“I don’t give two fucks about New York,” Jinky said. “There’s too much to lose, here. We get in bed with these guys, and we look like bums—amateurs.”
“Jinky,” Ade said, “I found you. I brought you into our deal here, and you became the heavyweight champion of the world. That was for you. This—New York—is for me.”
Maw Maw slid his hand over to his wife. “You’re right; I’m sorry. Let’s show these carnival fucks how to play the three-cup game.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
1984.
Thirteen days after Lenny got out.
New York.
Lenny was rolling the dice; he knew he was. He had no real choice, because Ricky wasn’t there, the NWC had frozen every wrestler in the country, and his TV station was gone if they couldn’t fill the slot.
He was rolling the dice, and he was using his son to do it.
“What are we going for here?” Lenny asked. He and Kid were standing backstage at Madison Square Garden, leaning on the white brick walls. Lenny was wearing the only suit he owned. Before Kid could answer, Lenny spoke again. “What do you say last?” he asked.
“I say, ‘He talks too much,’” Kid replied.
“And then what do you do?”
“I’ve got this,” Kid said, turning away.
Lenny spun his boy around by the arm. He was deadly serious. “What do you do after you say ‘he talks too much’?”
Kid answered, “I walk off calm, like a killer.”
Lenny nodded. “Perfect.” He looked at his oldest son. He could tell that he was ready to step up and be champion—ready to make some money. “If this is too much, or too soon, then you let me know,” Lenny said.
“What other options do we have?” Kid asked.
Lenny couldn’t answer that. They didn’t have any other options.
Kid walked to the curtain and waited for his introduction. As soon as Lenny could see that nobody was watching him, he steadied himself against the wall and drew in a long, considered breath.
On the other side of the curtain, Ade stood at a podium. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “Thank you for being here for this truly momentous occasion.” Ade looked out into the sea of reporters, journalists, and TV cameras. “It is my pleasure, along with Vosbury Promotions and the New York Booking Agency, to present to you today the world’s first superfight: boxing versus wrestling, heavyweight champion versus heavyweight champion.” Ade’s words set off a blanket of flashing lights and mumblings of consultation among the reporters. Several of the more serious boxing writers loudly left their seats in disgust. Everyone else seemed at least willing to find out more. “Let me bring out now, at this time,” Ade continued, “Maw Maw Vosbury, the manager of boxing’s heavyweight champion of the world.”
Ade stepped down from the podium and took a seat to the left. Maw Maw got a polite round of applause when he took her place. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, before raising his arms to quiet the room. “Now, I know what some of you are thinking, and I know what some of you have already written on your little pads. But this is going to be the real deal. Two men, at the top of their respective sports, will be looking to find out just who is the best.”
Lenny stood behind his boy at the curtain. He wanted to put his hand on his shoulder just to let him know that he was there. “Are you doing okay?” Lenny whispered.
Kid silently nodded and Lenny knew not to press any further. Lenny took a step back and closed his eyes. His heart was beginning to race. His hands were sweaty. He needed to stop this. He couldn’t put his son in so much danger.
“Hey,” Lenny whispered. But he was distracted from finishing his sentence by the sight of his parole officer standing at the end of the hallway.
“I’ll be right back,” Lenny said to Kid as he walked off. Lenny wanted to shake off Tad, so he could do his business without being humiliated.
In front of the press, Maw Maw was in full flow. “If that child tries too hard to hurt or incapacitate the real world heavyweight champion on the night—then we’ll soon find out just how fake wrestling is. ’Cause let me tell you one thing, ladies and gentlemen, Jinky Keeves ain’t going to play games for no man. I hope these wrestling guys know that.”
Without warning, Jinky entered from stage left and held his boxing world title above his head. He was supposed to wait to be introduced, but he was going off script. He leaned into Maw Maw’s mic. “I feel like I need to apologize,” Jinky said. “I need to come out here and say something before the headlines are written and this thing is cast in stone. They came to us and asked for this. I know what record they have and I know what you all think of what they do for a living. But if some guy—any guy—says that he’s willing to put down a large amount of money to get beat up by me, the real world heavyweight champion, then I’m going to take him on.”
Across the city, Joe shouted at his driver. “Cut through the traffic—go around.” They were battling the New York congestion to get to the Garden before Lenny put his champion out in front of the world. Lenny made sure that Joe heard what was unfolding, but purposefully left Joe with no real time to be present.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” said the voice on the radio in the car, “to the announcement of this most unique event. Champion versus champion, boxing versus wrestling.”
The simplicity of the words coming though the speakers sickened Joe’s stomach—but they also lit up the promoter’s side of his brain. Joe really had underestimated New York’s resolve, especially with Ricky out of the picture. And he had outright overlooked Lenny. Now he was going to pay for his oversight.
In North Carolina, Tanner lay tubed-up, bruised, and bandaged, but listening intently to the same voice on the radio that Joe heard in his car. Tanner might have been nearly finished, but only a fool would think that a man of his experience playing the game didn’t have something left to sting with.
In his small home in Long Island City, Edgar Long sat with his youngest grandson, also listening to the same radio report.
“Do you think Kid is going to win?” Jimmy asked.
“Shh …” Edgar replied.
“I’m going to be stronger than Kid when I’m his age,” Jimmy said. “I’m going to be able to pick up an elephant and smash it off a Ferris wheel.”
“Shh …”
Lenny was in the restroom, trying to figure out how to perform his piece of the press conference without Tad seeing him “getting involved.”
Kid Devine made his entrance to the stage unannounced, too. Jinky was still running his mouth at the podium as Kid appeared behind him. The young wrestling champion stopped and posed for photographs. This was the first time that the world had taken a good look at him. He was handsome, and very young, but not any smaller than the boxing champ.
“That’s right ladies and gentlemen, here’s the so-called champion from their side,” Jinky said. “Too bad he’s going to—”
Kid quickly grabbed Jinky from the side in a head-and-arm choke. The boxer was tied up and couldn’t use his fists. The gathered press seemed to collectively roll their eyes at what they thought was a stunt playing out in front of them, but Maw Maw immediately knew it was no stunt. He sprang from his seat. Jinky was struggling and trying to jerk the wrestler from him, but the boxer ultimately had no answer for the predicam
ent that he was in. Kid took Jinky to the ground and Jinky’s contorted face and gasps for air quickly made the press think there was something legitimately shocking unfolding in front of them. Maw Maw grabbed Kid by the hair and tried to yank him off of his meal ticket. Lenny appeared through the curtain and tackled Maw Maw to the floor. Lenny and Kid, father and son, collectively fucking over the boxing business side-by-side.
Jinky went limp and Kid released his prone body to the rising sound of cameras clicking and questions being fired from the floor.
“He talks too much,” Kid said before leaving the stage.
Lenny followed right behind.
“What do we do now?” Kid asked.
“Run,” Lenny said.
In the car, Joe listened with his mouth agape as the news came in live.
“There was an altercation on the stage. The world heavyweight champion of boxing, Jinky Keeves, has been immobilized by Kid Devine, the wrestling champion. The boxer was talking, and the wrestler had enough. This doesn’t look to us like a staged wrestling altercation. Mr. Keeves’s face turned blue, and when the wrestler released him, the champion boxer was struggling for air. In all my years of covering sports, and particularly the grand sport of boxing, I have never seen anything like it.”
Joe conceded it was brilliant. Without money, without any wrestlers, without any help, Lenny Long had made his champion the most talked-about athlete in all of sports.
Jimmy Long sat outside his grandfather’s house. He was just about fed up with being left out. He thought that it was time he showed his father just how useful he could be.
Backstage at the Garden, Lenny and Kid were making their way out of there as fast as they could. Not only did Lenny have to watch his back from within the wrestling world—he now had the boxing world looking for his scalp too, plus his parole officer had surely seen him get into a physical altercation in front of the world.
“Lenny!” shouted Ade.
Lenny stopped as she marched toward them. “Keep going,” Lenny said to Kid.