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AT THE RINGSIDE By Barney Nagler NEW YORK, N. Y., May 8.— At old St. Nicks, where the favorites fail with regularity, a visitor is assured that the color of the small club is still the backbone of boxing. The night Joey Giardello tried to bust out of the thralldom of inactivity, only to be chained and flailed by Charley Cotton, the color was black and blue. Thats how Giardello came out of the 10-rounder, and one who had. come to see the action found Cot ton a charming lad. Hes a Negro out of Arkansas, by way of Toledo, and he found the big town an ensnarement, he said. "Them steaks ruined me," Cotton said, smilin widely. "Home, I dont get ndne of that steak cept I have an extra dollar. I buy a pound and strip it three ways, for three days. But here, I eat in Dempseys every night. It makes me heavy, too heavy." AAA Cotton, it developed, is married and has two children, but none in his family shares steak with him. "Cost too much," the young man said. "At Dempseys, Hymie William his manager says eat steak, so one night I eat tenderloin and the next night sirloin. Comes to six dollars, maybe seven. Thats a lot of money. We dont eat good like that in Toledo." In New York, Cotton proved he not only is a villain with a knife but an effective workman in the ring. Hes welcome. At St. Nicks, old-timers always talk of ancient times. "Remember," Jimmy White, the fight manager, asked Billy Brown, the matchmaker for the Garden, "the time you had Long Sing Que?" "Do I remember?" Brown asked White. "Sure. Remember the time I bought that new Ford and we went for a ride." "Sure," White said. "There was Long Sing and your wife and Joe Bush, may he rest in peace. We went out to Long Beach in the car the first night you had it." "We had a flat tire coming home," Brown said. "So I went out with Bush and Whitey here to fix it." "Sure, and while we were fixing the flat on the new car, you gave Long Sing a rag and told him to polish the car," White said. "I remember," Brown said. "I gave him the rag to polish the car so the trip shouldnt be a total loss." White laughed. "Remember how you used to sell Long Sing all the time?" , Continued on Page Fiftyne I AT THE RINGSIDE By BARNEY NAGLER Continued from Page Two "I used to sell his contract for 25 to 50 dollars, but every time I sold him, he came back. The other managers didnt know how to move a Chinese featherweight." "Who does?" White asked. At St. Nicks, you run into old friends and veteran fighters. "Remember me?" one asked. "Sure, youre Mickey barber, arent you?" The little fellow, garbed neatly in sport jacket, matching shirtr, slacks and brown shoes, peered from beneath silver-rimmed glasses. "I didnt think youd remember," he said. "Remember. Last time I saw you in here a guy came falling through the skylight, -almost into the ring." Mickey Farber smiled reflectively. "Sure," he said, "that was the night I fought Bummy Davis in here. It was quite a night." It was, too. Farber, out of the East Side, and Bummy, out of Brownsville, fought so bristling a duel, they put them back in Madison Square Garden. Drew a respectable house, too, and moved Davis into the big time. "What are you doing now?" "Me," Farber said, "I work in the navy yard in Brooklyn. Im a pipefitter. I live in Brooklyn now." He pulled out a book of snapshots. "Heres my family, my wife and my three kids. My boys 15 years old," he said. "I know youre better off than Bummy is." "Yeah, wasnt that terrible?" Farber said. "I read about him being shot trying to bust up that hold-up in Brooklyn. I felt bad. He shoulda won that fight, not the ones he had with me."
