"What about Al
Weill, and those charges in California that he took $10,000 off your
purse?"
"I believe Al
is an honest guy," he said slowly. "We've been together for nine years,
and Al wouldn't do that to me. Besides, $10,000 is pennies compared to a
million-dollar gate."
"What are your
plans for the future?" I asked, "would you like to do something in the
fight business, something where you might help straighten out this whole boxing
mess?"
"I'd like
that," he said eagerly. "I'd like that. I happen to know all the little
problems that face fighters. I think I could help. It would be nice, it would
be nice," he said.
A BIT OF THE
SHOWMAN
Last fall, when I
visited Rocky in Brockton, he and his pal Allie Colombo talked about the
possibility of taping interviews with celebrities who visited Rocky's training
camp. Now this was out, but there has always been more of the showman in Rocky
Marciano than some people may have thought. The limelight has never really lost
its appeal—perhaps because his vigorous training schedules have not allowed him
much of it.
"I don't want
to go on personal appearances the way Jack Dempsey did," he said, "but
I'd like to do something, maybe a television show where I could work with
kids."
"You still
want people asking you for your autograph, don't you?"
"You bet I
do."
It was clear that
Rocky had said farewell to the ring—but not necessarily to his fans, present
and future. He hopes his decision will not prejudice them against him. All
other decisions in his professional boxing career were in his favor. He wants
this one to be too.