But a fighter could claim just so much devotion from his manager. The mob used to kid Joe Gould about the evening he quit on one of his own fighters.
"Joe had a fighter named Nat Pincus," a boxing writer said. "Pincus was fighting at Dexter Park one night and it began to rain. Joe ducked under the ring and stayed there until the end of each round. He'd look out at me and ask me what his fighter was doing and I'd tell him, and then he'd climb up in the ring at the end of the round and bawl the guy out."
"That's right," Gould laughed. "I heard a bang over my head and I said, 'What's that?' And he says, 'Pincus just got knocked down.' A minute later there was another bang and I says, 'What's that?' And he says, 'Pincus is down again.' I am almost tempted to come out from under the ring no matter how hard it is raining, but then I hear another bang and all of a sudden I get wise. It's thunder."
When I walk west along 49th Street nowadays, I miss something other than the lights and the cries from a vanished arena.