The Pug’s Lunch
Tuesday May 13th 2014
10:41am Florian Hall Dorchester, MA.
On my first venture in many years to learn more about my great uncle Bobby Murphy I find myself at Florian Hall in Dorchester. I am an hour early for The Pug’s Lunch, a monthly meet up of Boston’s boxing legends. Florian Hall is a firefighters Union hall and there is an excellent firefighters painting in the lobby and a great tile mosaic of an old horse drawn fire truck on the go. I’m sitting at the bar in the Fireman’s Lounge. They are not open yet but the waitresses who are stocking the bar and setting up the tables let me stay. There is a TV on in front of me and suddenly I’m watching security camera footage of everybody’s favorite rapper, JAY-Z getting slapped & kicked in an elevator by his sister in-law while his wife passively watches. I’m a little stunned and then find myself thinking how rare it is to get a glimpse at the sometimes ugly realities of family life behind the big curtain of fame and success.
Dan Cuoco
The first person I see moving around the long banquet table set up for the Pugs is Dan Cuoco. He is the director of the International Boxing Research Organization. I’ve been trading emails with him and he’s been quite informative and helpful. Dan tells me he brought something for me and hands me a laminated copy of an article about my great uncle Bobby Murphy from a 1956 issue of The Ring magazine. It’s a two-page spread proclaiming Bobby as Rookie of the Year. I’m in a bit of shock looking at this. It shows him with Bobby Jr. in his lap and an action shot of him dropping veteran boxer Chico Vejar at the Boston Garden in ’55. His pretty wife Barbara smiles in a photo and Bobby hits the speed bag in another. The article has details about Bobby’s parents (my great grandparents whom I never met) that I was not aware of. For instance that my great grandfather Cornelius (Les) Murphy was a boxer in his own right between 1902-1912. And that he trained Bobby to box from when he was 9 years old. It also tells how my great grandmother Helen (maiden name Kelly) was not really into Les making a boxer out of Bobby and that they were still fighting about it 14 years later. There’s also some input from Bobby’s neighbors saying they all love him and how he was active in drama and captained his High School football team. At 18 years old Bobby Murphy was named Outstanding Young Citizen of Brighton by the local Kiwanis chapter.
Next I met Jimmy Conners. He tells me he knew Bobby and says he was a good man. Jimmy then goes to his seat at the other end of the table and I tell him I’ll catch up with him before the lunch is through.
Dan then introduces me to Mickey Finn. He is the president of the Ring 4 Boxing Hall of Fame, Boston’s only historical boxing fraternity incorporated back in 1947. Mickey and I have been trading some emails and he doesn’t disappoint in person. I bring out some of the 8x10s I’ve collected over the years and Mickey holds up a shot of Bobby nose to nose with Tony Veranis. I mention to Mickey that this was Bobby’s last fight and the end of his career. He looks me dead in the eye and says, “Tony was on his way up when your uncle was on his way down, Veranis never would have beat him on equal ground.” I am rather pleasantly taken aback with Mickey’s passionate delivery. We walk through the rest of the photos I brought and Mickey then introduces me to Jimbo Curran. A real character this guy is with just the right amount of Boston accent and a hilarious energy to keep you interested in whatever he has to say. I’ve also brought along an 8×10 photo of a young boxer named Joe Barboza posing next to Puerto Rico’s Jose Torres. Jimbo is really into that photo and starts telling a story from when he was a kid. As he tells it, Barboza and Johnny Martorano pulled up in a Cadillac somewhere in Southie where a guy was on a ladder painting. Barboza jumped out and kicked the ladder down. The guy now stranded two stories high pleaded with Barboza, “Joe, how am I gonna get down?” to which Barboza replied, “F**king jump you a**hole and you better have what you owe next time I see you.” Jimbo then tells us that Barboza turned to him and yelled, “Jimbo, you throw rocks at him!” before jumping back in the car and speeding off. His story gets some good laughs. Then they start talking about the backgrounds in some of the line up shots of boxers. It’s decided that most of the ones I have were taken in the New Garden gym that was on Friend St. near the old Boston Garden. Ed Bernard is sitting next to me and starts telling me how he used to train at the New Garden gym. He tells me how when he was really young an older guy got conversational with him in the locker room and kindly tried to pass down a pair of his old shorts. Ed was a little weirded out and turned him down not being sure how to respond. The older guy then walked away and another boxer turned to Ed and said, “Do you know, who that was? That was Tony DeMarco!” Ed then tells me he knows Tony well these days and is still waiting to get those shorts. I then hear that a guy named Al Clemente ran the New Garden. I’ve heard his name before and can tell he must have been a colorful character. The New Garden obviously has a rich history.
Everybody is already eating. I was holding out for fear I wouldn’t actually eat since I’m trying to wrangle all these conversations that are happening so fast. But now I’m really hungry so I order the cod special. The waitress asks me if I want another “tonic.” Wow, haven’t heard that in a long time. I can’t help but feel a sense of home I haven’t felt since I was a kid. This insignificant detail, spoken with the regional ring of my relatives from both sides, reminds me how deeply I sometimes miss my hometown.
After I eat, I go over and speak with Jimmy Conners and Joe Marques. Jimmy says he Bobby Murphy met at the New Garden gym. He tells me he knew him pretty well and speaks rather fondly of him. Once Jimmy gets going he is a real pleasure to listen to. I feel like I’ve known this guy forever. He tells me about his career and that if he didn’t make the smart financial decisions he did back then, he would have ended up broke like some of his friends did. these days, Jimmy owns a number of bars in the New Bedford area. He tells me that he thinks the Pugs Lunch is special in the sense that the bond between boxers is stronger compared to the athletes in other sports. Joe is quick to agree. Jimmy says the level of respect & admiration amongst boxers just isn’t found anywhere else. Joe hasn’t said much so far but after Jimmy says this, Joe lets out seasoned, “oh yeah” lit with a smile that shows a glimpse of all the personality he’s got in there.
Jimmy Connors looking good in 2014
Bobby Murphy and Jimmy Connors looking good in 1957
Pretty soon a lot of the guys start moving around and some make their way off. I move to another table with Mickey Finn, his fiancé Mary, Jimbo Curran, and Bobby Franklin. Bobby is writer for The Boston Post Gazette. He has a column about boxing called Boxing Ringside. He is also from Brighton and tells me that his father knew my great uncle and that he had met him on at least one occasion when he was younger. Bobby looks over the photos I brought and tells me he is working on something about the New Garden gyms’ history. He’s scouring the shots trying to figure out where each one was taken. A few are from the New Garden and some are from another gym that was previously some sort of well-decorated restaurant. The windows in the background have ornate decorations around the edges like no other boxing gym I’ve ever seen. Bobby tells me that it was on street level and didn’t have tall ceilings like the other boxing gyms.
Boxing writer Bobby Franklin and Southie legend Jimbo Curran
My waitress comes over to talk to me about my great uncle. Her name is Cathy and she tells me that she knows Irish Bobby Murphy’s widow. [Note: An older boxer named Edward Conarty from California took the name Irish Bob Murphy and boxed professionally from 1945 to 1954. I’m not sure how well they knew each other but I do have a photograph of them together.] It turns out that he relocated to Boston from the west coast. Irish Bob Murphy passed away after a motorcycle accident in 1961. In the early 90’s my great uncle Bobby Murphy was struck by a car and killed. It’s a strange coincidence that they both died in auto accidents. My waitress is very nice and she tells me that she is impressed I came all the way from Brooklyn to the Pugs Lunch. We keep talking and she says a bunch of nice things to me but I strangely find myself just wanting her to ask me if I want another “tonic.” I notice that Mickey Finn has some tattoos creeping out from under his shirtsleeves. I ask him how much ink he has only to watch him quickly roll up his right sleeve and show me a full sleeve of colorful work. He then shows me his left arm and I see another full sleeve. But, this arm also has a really nice B&W portrait of the world famous, clown of clowns, Emmett Kelly. Nice. Mickey tells me that Emmett is one of his heroes. I’ve always been pretty impressed with tattoo work that honors ones influences. Always a class move.
Mickey shows off his Weary Willy.
We all leave Florian Hall and walk out to the parking lot. Bobby Franklin is going to give me a ride to the bus station. We walk with Mickey and Mary to his car. His license plate is TKO4. Pretty cool. Bobby and Mickey then talk about how Tony DeMarco has the coveted TKO plate. I ask them how long ago he obtained it and Mickey tells me that he got it back in the 50’s. Wow. Mickey then digs in his trunk and hands me a Ring4 lapel pin. Very cool. To be presented with this small token feels really nice. We say our goodbyes and drive off.
Bobby gives me some copies of the Gazette to check out. As we drive I start the unavoidable conversation that happens about how Boston is unrecognizable in so many ways over the last 15 years since I left. Earlier we spoke of Tony DeMarco and how there is now a statue of him at the beginning of Hanover St. Bobby decides it’s a great time to show it to me and I’m game. Tony is usually at the Pugs Lunch but wasn’t there today. We park almost right in front of his statue. I am really impressed. It might as well be the Rocky statue at the top of the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum. It’s positioned in a rather booming spot. Very fitting for Boston’s most legendary champion and professor emeritus of the sweet science. We walk over and I photograph it. I want to find the photo it was sculpted from. His pose is a full action shot with the look one has in that split second of victory. Very, very, cool.
