COPING

By Roger Esty

Spud Murphy's Gym was named after the fallen fighter who had his licensed revoked because of a bad brain scan. His father let him workout in the gym still, and after a sparring session,Spud collapsed in the shower and died.

I remember Irish Spud Murphy fighting preliminaries at the Coliseum. From the start you could tell that the kid didn't have it. There was a lot of talk about the father trying to make something out of his son when it would have been best to leave him alone. But Spud kept plugging along although he didn't have anything going for him. He didn't have a punch. He was frail looking. And he cut easy.

It wasn't until much later that I found out about his death. Terry Norris told me about it when I went up to Spud Murphy's gym to watch him train for a fight.

The parents still kept the doors open. I remember that there were always a lot of fighters working out. The gym was upstairs above a pool hall.

The father ,I think, went a little crazy after his son's death. He'd talk about his son like he was still alive. He also went on about how his son was a great fighter. There were newspaper clippings of his son's short boxing career,I remember,pasted on the wall. I also remember the mother. She was an elderly heavy set gal with gray hair. Looked like someone's grandmother. She wore a plain plaid dress. She stayed mostly behind the counter. She sold sodas and candy. I'd see her limp around carrying cases of beer and keepng things straightened out. Towels stacked high. Sweeping the floor. Cleaning the lockers.

While her husband was talking everyone's head off about his son and whatever,I never heard his wife say anything. Maybe that was their ways of dealing with Spud's death. The father trying to keep ahead of the power curve by talking all the time. The mother just trying to keep moving and stay busy.