MY FATHER’S FIGHTER

From boxing enthusiast/TV producer Fried (Corner Men, 1991): a first novel about the transformation of a nerdy Manhattan English teacher into a prizefight manager.

Vincent Rosen never had much in common with his father. Basically, Vincent was a spoiled brat, a nice Jewish boy from New York who slid through prep school and the Ivy League on his old man’s dough and ended up inheriting enough of it that he could afford to indulge himself by working as schoolteacher (and at a private school, at that). His father, Solly, on the other hand, was a real live wire—a rags-to-riches boy who made a fortune in the garment trade and invested in professional boxers. At his death, he had only one request for Vincent: Take care of my Palookas. So Vincent soon finds himself stumbling into a world he knows nothing about, hoping against hope that he won’t mess up too dramatically. His main prospect at the moment is Mickey Davis, a white contender from Pittsburgh who packs his groin full of ice in restaurants and believes that beer will help him lose weight. Mickey’s trainer Harry is a black conspiracy theorist who thinks that Vincent is the first Jew in history without a head for business—a view seconded by his publicist Bessie when Vincent balks at bribing sportswriters. Even Mickey begins to have some reservations about Vincent when he invites two bookies to pull up chairs and join them for dinner in a Midtown steakhouse. So why does Vincent stick with it, given that he never really liked his father that much anyway? Maybe it has something to do with finding his way in a world that’s more real than his classes on Joyce and Proust and Pound. Maybe he is Solly’s boy after all.

A fresh and amiable story that offers a fascinating glimpse of the inner world of boxing and manages to make it appear equally shabby and attractive.