By Anthony Bosco
I took a break from the long, hot summer this week to go back in time, or so it felt. I was playing wingman to reporter Dylan Butler at the Roseland Ballroom, where we ventured last Thursday to watch Queens heavyweight contender Monte Barrett.
I had no real responsibilities at the fight, other than helping my colleague cover his first pro fight and possibly tracking down another Queens heavyweight, Vinny Maddalone, whom I had not talked to in a bit and wanted to catch up with.
But the night quickly turned sour, sort of. After finding what I perceived as a totally awesome parking spot on 57th Street between Broadway and 7th — at the direction of Butler — we strolled down to Roseland on 53rd eager to see some boxing.
But no sooner did we navigate through the front door and to our elevated position just next to the ring did we learn that Barrett, the card’s main event, was not fighting. The ring announcer said the New York State Athletic Commission ruled him “not medically fit.”
I was quite surprised by the announcement, especially because I saw Barrett beat former heavyweight champ Tim Witherspoon just a month earlier and he looked fine to me.
As it turned out, thanks to a little legwork by my companion, Barrett has some sort of platelet disorder. His are bigger than normal, but he has less of them, something that requires medical clearance from his doctor. Apparently he was unable to come up with a note in time to get cleared and so the fight was called off.
Of course this was the main reason we went to Manhattan in the first place. Now we were left to hang around and dig for stories. We didn’t have to dig too deep.
As Dylan scurried about interviewing people for his story, I scanned the crowd for a recognizable face. It had been some years since I attended a pro fight, but I was sure I would see a few. In short order Maddalone showed up and stopped by for a chat.
Turns out he’s hoping to fight in September, his first before a nationally televised audience. This had promise for a good story, I thought, but not this week. Oh well. We shook hands and he was off to the luxury tables in the back, which went for something like $2,000 per table.
At some point I saw Dylan shake hands with legendary trainer Lou Duva, which drew a smile from my face as I situated myself strategically close to the round card girls. And then a story fell into my lap.
Standing a few feet from me was a face I had not seen in years, not since Kevin Kelley’s 30th birthday party at the Crabhouse in Long Island City. Regilio Tuur, the former World Boxing Organization junior lightweight champ — and Queens resident — was shaking hands in the crowd.
“Regilio!” I called to him. He turned and it took a second for him to place me, but he did, prompting his broad and distinctive smile and to give me what in modern-day parlance is known as a “pound.”
I have been so removed from the fight game in recent years that I was unaware that Tuur was making his comeback. After nearly four years away from the ring Tuur was starting his career again at the place it all started, in Queens.
Reggie told me that his fight was Saturday night at Aqueduct Race Track. “Perfect,” was my reply. “I’ll be there.”
So, one fight falls through and another appears. I felt charmed.
Afterward Dylan and I retreated to a TGI Friday’s around the corner and noshed, talking about the sweet science all the while. I felt like I was back in 1994, when it was hard for me to go a week without trying to write some boxing story for the paper, writing about Kevin Kelley, Freddie Liberatore, Tuur and any other Queens fighter to lace up a pair of gloves.
Saturday came quickly and I didn’t want to miss a thing. I left my home early and cruised the Cross Island Parkway in palpable anticipation of seeing Tuur back in action.
Of course, that didn’t happen.
Just as it had two nights before, the main even was canceled, again for another borderline blood test, this one concerning Tuur’s opponent, Freddy Cruz.
I was stunned and I immediately thought of Reggie, who had told me how much he was looking forward to getting back in the ring, that he had trained for 10 months to get into fighting shape, two months with July 28 as his target date. And all that was washed away.
I hung around waiting to see if he would show and sure enough he did. We talked for a bit after he arrived and he said he wanted to go through the motions as if he were going to fight, that he needed to release all the nervous energy that had been building up in his system for the better part of a year.
He was obviously disappointed, but Tuur did his best imitation of Willie Pep and just rolled with the punches. Instead of belly-aching about it, Tuur shrugged his shoulders and said that he would like to return to Aqueduct and try it again in a month.
Making my way back to my car I thought to myself that boxing, for all of its problems, most of which are self-inflicted, may be the most enjoyable sport to cover. And the reason is not so much the action, but the fighters themselves. Ironically, they are consistently the nicest athletes you’d ever want to meet.
That is something I hope not to forget ever again.
Reach Sports Editor Anthony Bosco by e-mail at TimesLedgr@aol.com or call 229-0300, Ext. 130.
