Gerry Cooney Can't Beat His Old English Teacher, But He Could Become Heavyweight Champion Of The World

Consider, Clancy says, the recent 15-round title fight between Holmes and Trevor Berbick. "Those guys go 15 rounds and they look like they just finished playing Ping-Pong or something. When you go in the ring with Cooney, he puts marks on you. If you're in there for three minutes with him, you look like you've been in there three hours. That's the way Joe Louis used to be."

The fact is, of course, no one yet knows how good Gerry Cooney is or how deep he goes. The fighter refuses to be drawn into such discussions, just as he adamantly refuses to strut his world proclaiming any notions of superiority he might have. Before a fight, Eileen Cooney says, he calls her up and says, "I hope I do good, Mom." He doesn't lack confidence, he says, but he will simply not lay any claim to what he feels he hasn't yet earned. So he waves away all talk of the title when even Geraldine Gorman brings it up, saying he must beat Ken Norton first.

"I used to dream what it would be like to be heavyweight champion of the world," says Cooney, "but I never let it interfere too much with my life. If you really want something bad enough, you can have it—sometimes. My father would be proud I'm ranked No. 1 in the world. But really I'm only halfway there.

"Do you know what I would really like? I would like to go to my 10th class reunion as the heavyweight champion of the world."

There is a long pause. He is driving through Huntington now, listening to Christopher Cross singing Sailing, and his own mind is sailing. "Yeah," he continues, "I want people to see I haven't changed at all since high school. When I was in high school, lots of people thought I was crazy, being a fighter. I just want to let them know that I made it. I think that would be really nice. Go. to a" 10-year class reunion, just as I had left school: the same person, except as heavyweight champion of the world."