Читать книгу Jacobs Beach. The Mob, the Garden and the Golden Age of Boxing онлайн

54 страница из 104

Gould expended a lot of energy in putting the hitherto down-and-out Braddock in the limelight, introducing him to influential friends of all stripes. Later, he would pull off one of the cheekiest scams in boxing history, but first, they had to get their hands on the title.

Gould was a master of hype—the best in the business.

He was not fazed by threats or demands, even from the men in pulled-down hats. He knew many of them as friends. He had Madden on board. He knew Carbo, Palermo, Costello, and J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the FBI. This was some guardian angel. While selling Braddock to a skeptical audience, he maintained a classic front, retaining an office he could not afford, making promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

Baer, known here and there as “The Livermore Larruper,” was an awesome hitter. He'd killed one man in the ring and given a beating to another who died later, tragedies that took the edge off his aggressive instincts and made a lighthearted man occasionally sad. Might it also have contributed to what has been described over the years with ever-increasing conviction, even by those who were not there, as the biggest upset in heavyweight history?