Boxing: service
Boxing got into his blood from early on, and Johnny Bos didn't try and fight it. The matchmaker extraordinaire, who put boxing right there with air and water, died Saturday at his Clearwater, Fl. residence, at age 61.
The fiancee of his younger brother, Jeffrey Bosdal, told ESPN New York that the late fight agent started to learn his trade in his early teens, by setting up neighborhood kids in boxoffs on the streets of Brooklyn.
"It was a different time," said Suzanne McBee, the fiancee, on the phone from Florida. "Yes, he ate, slept, lived and breathed boxing." She told me her phone has been ringing non-stop, with people checking in, offering condolences and saying how much Bos meant to them.
McBee told me that a visitation period and service will be held on Saturday, May 18, at Dobies Funeral Home on Hudson Ave. in Hudson, Fla. to honor Bos, who fell in love with the sweet science and maintained a sometimes stormy, but enduring affair with the sport to the end.
I spoke to Bos' daughter, Surojini Sudowoodo Braithwaite, about her father. She, too, has been deluged with calls and messages from people telling her how her dad touched them. "It's so evident he loved what he did," said the Maine resident, who told me she had been planning to move to Florida to be near dad soon. "It wasn't a job for him."
She admitted that she wanted to box, and asked her dad for his blessing. "He told me he didn't want me to do it," she said, breaking up. "He didn't want me to get hurt. I wanted to do it to make him proud but he wanted to keep me alive and I can't argue with that."
Knowing how many people Bos influenced has helped her during this difficult time.
"Knowing how much love and respect people had for him puts me in a selfless state," she said, "and takes the sad part away."
The fiancee of his younger brother, Jeffrey Bosdal, told ESPN New York that the late fight agent started to learn his trade in his early teens, by setting up neighborhood kids in boxoffs on the streets of Brooklyn.
"It was a different time," said Suzanne McBee, the fiancee, on the phone from Florida. "Yes, he ate, slept, lived and breathed boxing." She told me her phone has been ringing non-stop, with people checking in, offering condolences and saying how much Bos meant to them.
McBee told me that a visitation period and service will be held on Saturday, May 18, at Dobies Funeral Home on Hudson Ave. in Hudson, Fla. to honor Bos, who fell in love with the sweet science and maintained a sometimes stormy, but enduring affair with the sport to the end.
I spoke to Bos' daughter, Surojini Sudowoodo Braithwaite, about her father. She, too, has been deluged with calls and messages from people telling her how her dad touched them. "It's so evident he loved what he did," said the Maine resident, who told me she had been planning to move to Florida to be near dad soon. "It wasn't a job for him."
She admitted that she wanted to box, and asked her dad for his blessing. "He told me he didn't want me to do it," she said, breaking up. "He didn't want me to get hurt. I wanted to do it to make him proud but he wanted to keep me alive and I can't argue with that."
Knowing how many people Bos influenced has helped her during this difficult time.
"Knowing how much love and respect people had for him puts me in a selfless state," she said, "and takes the sad part away."
A service for Bert Sugar will be held tomorrow, Saturday, March 31, at the First Congregational Church of Chappaqua, starting at 2:30 PM.
Bert’s old pal Jules Feiler, the press agent who is known for his inventive stunts which get pub for clients like Mike Tyson, Dennis Rodman, the Sopranos and the Friars Club, to name but a few, tells ESPN New York that he is quite certain that there will not be another like the ace raconteur. They were fast friends for the past 20 or so years, and Feiler asked his buds, like Boom Boom Mancini, and Larry Holmes, and Chuck Wepner, to get on the phone and check in with Bert the last couple months, while the author-editor was fighting cancer.
I asked Jules if Bert was resigned to his fate, because to me, it’s helpful to those left behind when they know a loved one, or friend, or someone they admire, is OK with meeting the end of the road. Jules told me that Bert was a fighter to the end, and last Friday, on the phone, Bert told Jules they’d talk Monday, about a new project. Bert died Sunday.
“Bert was old school, there will not be another like him,” Feiler told me. “People talk about him as this Damon Runyon character who knew stories about boxing. But more importantly, he was loyal in a way that is old school, that doesn’t exist today. He never did a bad thing to me. He was as loyal a friend as I’ve ever known.”
The Church is located at 210 Orchard Ridge Road. Their number is (914) 238-4411.
Bert’s old pal Jules Feiler, the press agent who is known for his inventive stunts which get pub for clients like Mike Tyson, Dennis Rodman, the Sopranos and the Friars Club, to name but a few, tells ESPN New York that he is quite certain that there will not be another like the ace raconteur. They were fast friends for the past 20 or so years, and Feiler asked his buds, like Boom Boom Mancini, and Larry Holmes, and Chuck Wepner, to get on the phone and check in with Bert the last couple months, while the author-editor was fighting cancer.
I asked Jules if Bert was resigned to his fate, because to me, it’s helpful to those left behind when they know a loved one, or friend, or someone they admire, is OK with meeting the end of the road. Jules told me that Bert was a fighter to the end, and last Friday, on the phone, Bert told Jules they’d talk Monday, about a new project. Bert died Sunday.
“Bert was old school, there will not be another like him,” Feiler told me. “People talk about him as this Damon Runyon character who knew stories about boxing. But more importantly, he was loyal in a way that is old school, that doesn’t exist today. He never did a bad thing to me. He was as loyal a friend as I’ve ever known.”
The Church is located at 210 Orchard Ridge Road. Their number is (914) 238-4411.
Bert Sugar service will be this Saturday
March, 26, 2012
3/26/12
12:37
PM ET
By
Michael Woods | ESPNNewYork.com
Bert Sugar used to crack that he gave wife Suzanne "the best 10 minutes of her life." The wisecracking author-editor-raconteur joined her on the rollercoaster that is marriage, with more ups than downs, for 51 years.
Suzanne Sugar was kind enough to quickly touch base with me early Monday afternoon, just a day after the stogie-puffing, fedora-wearing fight historian passed away from cardiac arrest following a battle with lung cancer, at a hospital near their Chappaqua home. "I'm in a little bit of shock," said Suzanne, her voice clear and strong.
She said she didn't have much time, as she was busy planning services. Bert's loads of pals and admirers should know that a service is set for Saturday, probably around 2 p.m., with details to come shortly.
Significant others of writers and other artistic types know that the artist can be something of a bear when in churn-it-out mode. Suzanne stood by her man during those times, and there were loads of them, as he put out over 80 books, and was always but always working on one, so she deserves an extra measure of gentle pity during this trying time.
Suzanne Sugar was kind enough to quickly touch base with me early Monday afternoon, just a day after the stogie-puffing, fedora-wearing fight historian passed away from cardiac arrest following a battle with lung cancer, at a hospital near their Chappaqua home. "I'm in a little bit of shock," said Suzanne, her voice clear and strong.
She said she didn't have much time, as she was busy planning services. Bert's loads of pals and admirers should know that a service is set for Saturday, probably around 2 p.m., with details to come shortly.
Significant others of writers and other artistic types know that the artist can be something of a bear when in churn-it-out mode. Suzanne stood by her man during those times, and there were loads of them, as he put out over 80 books, and was always but always working on one, so she deserves an extra measure of gentle pity during this trying time.
Angelo Dundee service information
February, 2, 2012
2/02/12
4:10
PM ET
By
Michael Woods | ESPNNewYork.com
A service for Angelo Dundee will be held next Friday, Feb. 10, at the Countryside Christian Center in Clearwater, Florida.
The service will begin at 12 noon, with time beforehand for the public to bid Dundee adieu.
Manager-friend Mark Grismer relayed that info to me, and told me, happily, that Angelo went in the blink of an eye on Tuesday night. He was at his home, chatting his daughter in law and a nurse, and complained that he was having trouble breathing. He said it felt like his throat was closing up. He then closed his eyes, and that was it.
"He was swinging til the end," Grismer told me. "He had his wits about him." Angelo was excited about going a Rays baseball game, and continuing to work with young fighters looking forward. "His was the quintessential 20th century life done right. He was everything good about America in the 20th century."
Grismer told me a classic Angelo story. He was in the Army air corps, on a relief mission in the Belgian town of Bastogne. Dundee was in the air, looked down, saw some people, and waved happily at them. They responded with gunfire. They were German soldiers. That was Angelo.
"If someone died, he'd think all good things about them and what they did in their life," Grismer said. "He saw a lot of people he cared about pass away, but he took it all in stride, saying, 'That's life.''
The service will begin at 12 noon, with time beforehand for the public to bid Dundee adieu.
Manager-friend Mark Grismer relayed that info to me, and told me, happily, that Angelo went in the blink of an eye on Tuesday night. He was at his home, chatting his daughter in law and a nurse, and complained that he was having trouble breathing. He said it felt like his throat was closing up. He then closed his eyes, and that was it.
"He was swinging til the end," Grismer told me. "He had his wits about him." Angelo was excited about going a Rays baseball game, and continuing to work with young fighters looking forward. "His was the quintessential 20th century life done right. He was everything good about America in the 20th century."
Grismer told me a classic Angelo story. He was in the Army air corps, on a relief mission in the Belgian town of Bastogne. Dundee was in the air, looked down, saw some people, and waved happily at them. They responded with gunfire. They were German soldiers. That was Angelo.
"If someone died, he'd think all good things about them and what they did in their life," Grismer said. "He saw a lot of people he cared about pass away, but he took it all in stride, saying, 'That's life.''
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ABOUT THIS BLOG
Michael Woods
Michael Woods has covered boxing since 1990. He is the editor of thesweetscience.com, a board member of the Boxing Writers Association of America and will be a contributing writer at ESPN The Magazine starting in January. As an aspiring fighter in the mid-'90s, he learned to apppreciate the difficulty of the sport.