Like Jerry . . .

By Rick Farris

Like Jerry Quarry, I began my career in the "Johnnie Flores Gym", would win Jr. Golden Gloves championships, and the Western Region Golden Gloves title, and fight in the Golden Gloves National Tournament in Kansas City, and turn pro as a teenager with Flores in my corner, the early bouts all for the Olympic Boxing Club, Just like Jerry. That's where the irony ends.

Jerry Quarry was a great amateur champion, and a great heavyweight contender who made his mark in one of the toughest eras ever in the heavyweight division. Everybody in the top ten was a good fighter. Some were better than others, but all were good. In the early days, the mid-to-late 60's, Jerry was on fire. He would stumble once in awhile, but for the most part, he was one of the most explosive punching heavyweights I ever saw.

Jerry was an L.A. guy, which means he was a body puncher.
Los Angeles had the best Mexican boxers in the world in it's gyms, and Mexican boxers are the best body punchers in the game.
Los Angeles guys learn about body punching early, and Jerry Quarry had great speed, he could be smooth and cagey.

He was known for his brutal double hook, to the body and head.
However, Jerry's biggest bomb was a short, chopping right. The hook usually came right behind it.
He had a great jab, fast, accurate, powerful, an "educated" left hand. Good head movement, when in top shape.

If he didn't work hard in the gym, he'd get winded late, and would appear lazy and unmotivated.
His skin became a liability. He did his share of bleeding. He fell victim to many of the temptations of the era.

He was one helluva announcer on CBS after he first retired in 1975. He was better than any boxer I've seen, aside from Sean O'Grady, at providing reliable ringside analysis from a boxer's point-of-view. However, that wasn't enough for Jerry. And he made a comeback. He blew the TV gig, and years afterwards, as he began to slip, he went to work as a "collector" for an organized crime figure.

I knew he wasn't doing well at the end, but I was shocked to hear he had passed away, at age 53.
Every once in awhile I'll flash on a Jerry Quarry moment from the past. Nothing major, just day-in-the-life stuff, or day-in-the-gym stuff, but I'll see the Quarry family sitting in the bleachers at the Main St. Gym on a saturday, mother, pop, brothers, sisters, kids. Arwanda, Jerry's mother will have packed a picnic lunch. It's a family event. Howie Steindler is cursing in his office . . ."What in the Hell does she think this is, Griffith Park?"

I'd stare at Jack Quarry's knuckles as he sat close by. H-A-R-D was tatooed on the left hand, L-U-C-K on the right.
"HARD LUCK" . . . A Quarry Story.

In the ring, Jerry would warm up with his sixteen-year-old brother, Mike. Mike, unlike Jerry, was a fast, light punching, stick-and-move boxer, who would make the mistake of stinging Jerry with a jab, and then paying a terrible price, one that would often leave him on the canvas in pain. Mike was 16, Jerry 21. Mike weighed 160, Jerry 195. I know brothers often work hard, but Jerry took something out of Mike at a young age.

My memories of Jerry Quarry are warm. My best friend was his sparring partner for the Mathis and Frazier fights in 1969.
From Alan Kit Boursse', I would talk first hand with a guy who had felt the pop of a Jerry Quarry jab, that thudding hook to the body.
I remember Kit sending me a letter from the Quarry camp for the first Frazier fight. It came from Grossinger's Resort, in the Catskills.

Kit Boursse' wrote:

"Jerry is beating up everybody in camp. I'm the only one who isn't injured. Two guys have quit, Dave Centi's ribs are busted. We got a new guy in yesterday, a light-heavy, Charlie "The Emporer" Harris. Harris works Jerry hard, but Jerry doesn't like him, made a racial slur at the guy after knocking him out today. People don't give Jerry a chance, but he's likely to KO Frazier."

Just a few random memories of "Irish" Jerry Quarry.