A Nationwide Look At Boxing's Straw Bosses

DETROIT

It is ironic and even a little sad that James D. Norris' power in Detroit should be so enfeebled, for it was here that the whole Norris sports empire had its beginnings. The senior Norris realized his life's ambition for a National Hockey League franchise by buying the Detroit Red Wings, and the Detroit Olympia was one of the first of his subsequently great arena holdings. When Norris Jr. formed the International Boxing Club, it was separately incorporated (for antitrust reasons) in Michigan as well as New York and Illinois. Following the elder Norris' death in 1952 and the division of his estate among his three children, James Jr.'s sister Marguerite and younger brother Bruce became the Olympia's owners and the IBC of Michigan was dissolved. Naturally, whenever the IBC of Illinois or New York wished to promote a match in Detroit, it did so at the Olympia; so the official end of the corporation meant little. But such matches became less and less frequent.

The Olympia, with its 16,000 seats, needed either big audiences or big television contracts to operate profitably. Michigan's tax on TV boxing receipts (formerly 10%, now reduced to 5%) discouraged the latter possibility, even if a sufficiently rich sponsor could be found; and the cheaper television shows from the smaller Motor City Arena kept the big audiences at home. Consequently, today there is only an occasional card at the Olympia, the most recent being the Ray Robinson-Joe Rindone fight. Robinson used to live in Detroit and has a big following there, so it was a good location for the beginning of his "comeback." There was no television and 12,000 customers turned up. Such natural drawing cards are rare, however, and boxing adds little to the Olympia's profits from hockey, ice shows, the rodeo and similar house-fillers.

But there is no prosperity at Motor City either. In fact, there currently is no boxing there. But there will be again beginning this April and it is interesting to look at the auspices under which it will be carried on.

The leaseholder of record of the Motor City Arena and promoter of the fights that have been held there is Julius Piazza. He emigrated from Sicily in 1934, became a factory worker, drifted into the boxing business at the end of World War II, failed at it and was helped on his way again by a wealthy compatriot named Sam Finazzo. Finazzo is the owner of Motor City and one of his employees, Jimmy Quasarano, is Piazza's "25% partner," as Piazza admits. Among Detroit sports-writers and managers there is no real doubt that Finazzo is the man who controls the Motor City operations and who, through "fronts," controls many local boxers. An official of the Michigan State Athletic Board of Control told SI's correspondent that hidden ownership of fighters is the biggest problem the board faces and that "no contract the board holds is worth the paper it is written on."

Now, who is Sam Finazzo? He is a criminal whose record at the Detroit Police Department shows 29 notations, ranging from reckless driving through assault and battery, violation of the Selective Service Act, armed robbery, safe blowing, violation of the U.S. drug law, being a "con man," gambling and murder. And what does Sam Finazzo say? When questioned recently by SI's correspondent about his alleged control of Detroit boxing, he "stuck his cigar in his mouth, looked at me coldly and said, 'Oh, what the hell!... A lot of people don't like Sam Finazzo, so I get all kinds of bum beefs. I got other businesses—why should I waste my time on the cheap prizefight racket?' "

And it is quite true that for a man of Finazzo's means—as it is true for James D. Norris also—the money to be had from boxing is not important. Motor City has scraped along with only a small profit, and that it had any profit at all was due to its Tuesday night TV program, which was sponsored by the Pfeiffer Brewing Company.

A few weeks ago, unable to keep its Detroit TV outlet for the show because of a network programing conflict, Pfeiffer cancelled and Motor City went dark. Sic transit gloria Tuesday, and also Julius Piazza and Motor City. In April the TV outlet will be available again, and Pfeiffer has signed for a new series of 24 Tuesday cards. The moral may be that beer and razor-blade account executives have more power over boxing, and hence more moral responsibility for it, than they are prepared to realize.

CHICAGO

Here the IBC began. Here (in a suburb) lives Arthur Wirtz, a heavy stockholder but a modest fellow withal, one who prefers to be identified with such innocent diversions as ice shows. Here (on the South Side) lives Truman Gibson Jr., the well-educated, conscientiously public-spirited and progressive secretary of the IBC who—one can only suppose to his perpetual surprise—so often finds himself involved with gamblers and gangsters. And here lived James D. Norris before he moved on to the richer excitements and yeastier companions that he found in New York.