Cinderella Man

Madison  square  garden,  new  York  november  30,  1928.  There  were  19,000  boxing  supporters  around  the  center  ring  in  madison  square  garden,  and  most  were  waiting  for  just  one  thing  for  one  fighter  to  murder  another.  Tonight  they  were  waiting  for  gerald  akuffi  griffiths,  the  sita  terror  from  out  west  to  destroy  new  jersey's  jim  braddock.  At  the  sound  of  the  bell,  braddock  stood  under  the  hot  lights  and  watched  griffiths  rush  out  into  the  ring.  Tuffy  griffiths  had  come  to  new  york  after  winning  50  fights.

He  had  won  his  last  fight  with  a  knockout  in  the  first  round.  Everybody  knew  that  he  would  do  the  same  to  braddock.  Everybody  except  braddock  and  his  manager,  joe  gould.  Gould  believed  in  braddock.  A  sudden  jab  from  braddock  knocked  griffith's  back.

The  fighters  started  moving  around  the  ring,  throwing  and  blocking  punches.  Griffiths  threw  the  same  punches  through  the  same  punches  that  had  easily  beaten  his  other  opponents.  But  braddock  stayed  on  his  feet.  Blood  and  sweat  poured  into  his  eyes.  None  of  the  reporters  around  the  ring  expected  the  new  jersey  boxer  to  reach  the  end  of  the  second  round.

But  by  round  two,  braddock  had  timed  his  opponent's  rushes.  Within  1  minute,  he  hit  griffiths  with  his  big  punch,  his  right  cross  and  tuffy  went  down.  The  crowd  stood  shouting,  but  the  referee  had  only  counted  to  three  before  griffiths  was  back  on  his  feet.  And  the  fight  continued.  Time  stretched  for  braddock  now,  and  his  opponent's  slightest  move  seemed  enormous.

Braddock  paid  no  attention  to  the  screams  of  the  crowd,  to  the  pain  he  felt.  This  was  his  chance  to  finish  griffiths.  He  threw  his  big  right  punch  again  and  again.  Tuffy  was  on  the  floor.  Tonkamy  two,  three,  four.

The  referee  counted  for  a  second  time.  Griffiths  got  to  his  feet,  but  braddock  was  ready.  Stepping  in  close  and  throwing  punch  after  punch.  Then  his  right  hand  flew  forward  and  found  griffith's  chin  for  the  last  time.  The  big  fighter  hit  the  floor  again.

He  tried  to  stand,  but  his  legs  were  like  rubber.  No  more  punches  hit  him,  but  he  went  down  and  stayed  down  and  stayed  down.  And  from  the  great  state  of  new  jersey  by  a  knockout,  tonight's,  light  heavyweight  winner,  jim  braddock.  The  crowd  was  back  on  its  feet.  The  local  boy  had  won.

Braddock  had  been  born  in  hell's  kitchen,  a  poor  neighborhood  of  new  york,  just  a  stone's  throw  from  madison  square  garden.  Braddock  punched  the  air  in  celebration.  He  looked  at  the  crowd,  at  the  men  in  their  suits  and  ties  and  the  women  with  their  fashionable  haircuts  and  expensive  clothes.  It  was  friday  night.  The  world  seemed  to  be  having  a  party,  and  jim  Braddock's  win  was  one  more  reason  to  celebrate.

Griffiths  was  Braddock's  18th  knockout  since  his  first  professional  fight  in  1926,  his  27th  win.  The  fight  organizers  had  had  big  plans  for  griffiths.  After  this  surprise  win,  maybe  braddock  would  have  his  chance  to  fight  for  the  title  of  heavyweight  champion.  That  was  every  boxer's  dream.