[This Commentary originally appeared in the May 31, 1990 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]
One of the great things about an ethic upbringing is ethnic pride. Growing up Italian meant adopting the many Italian-American heroes of my parent’s and grandparent’s time. Two particular heroes stand out above the rest in my childhood memories – Joe DiMaggio and Rocky Graziano.
Truthfully, I can’t say I saw either of these athletes perform. Both retired nearly a decade before my birth. Yet, honoring these men pays respect to the judgment of my parents and grandparents.
I guess I’ve always had a sort of liking for boxing. I recall my brother and I spent a lot of time with our father watching the sport on our modestly sized black and white TV set. I grew even more interested in the game when I got over that famous little kid question, “Daddy, are those small men really inside the TV?”
Informal training began covertly around the age of six or seven. My youngest uncle would take my brother and me into our grandparents’ basement. Since my uncle had only a single pair of boxing gloves, he would issue the both of us one glove each. Being right handed, I got the right-handed glove while my southpaw brother would get the left-handed mitt. At the signal from my uncle, my brother and I started flailing at each other.
Of course, my uncle got in big trouble when my teenage aunt revealed these events to the adults. My mother never approved of fighting – whether on the street or in the ring. Then again, my mother never approved of football. Nonetheless, I continued playing football in the streets but never donned a boxing glove for another fifteen years or so.
Throughout college, I had hoped the athletic department would offer a boxing program, (after all, they did offer a fencing program). Unfortunately, either they never did or I never found out about it.
About five years ago, a friend introduced me to Ossie Sussman, who at the time had a gym at the Technoplex Mall in East Rochester. The former boxer offered a training regimen for those wishing to learn the art of self-defense. Figuring I needed to get back into shape, and with the opportunity to finally satisfy my curiosity, I signed up for ten weeks of boxing lessons.
The Spartan gym intimidated me when I first approached it. Already in his gear, a more seasoned student waited on the wood bench. He looked tough and had finely toned – not bulky – muscles. I shivered. As I walked towards the locker room, I passed a display case. In it sat a pair of weathered boxing gloves. A sign said, “The gloves worn by Rocky Graziano.”
Wow. I didn’t think I merited being in the same room as those gloves. I questioned whether I was worthy enough to be taught boxing by a man who possessed the gloves of Rocky Graziano.
Ossie had a knack for the practical. He realized he had only two kinds of students. The first group, like me, consisted of younger men who wanted to work out but refused to get involved with the aerobics craze. The second and larger group consisted of boys whose fathers never wanted to see their sons get beat up by bullies. In short, Ossie knew he would not be training professional boxers.
He often had to remind his students of that. One time, when concerned about my stance, I asked, “How far away should I stand from my opponent?”
“Six feet,” shot back the master without thinking.
“Six feet?” I countered, “I can’t reach him with a punch if I’m that far away!”
“Don’t worry about your punches,” said the former military trainer knowingly. “You stand six feet away because you never know when the other guy is carrying a knife.”
Good point. I had failed to remember I’d never be using my boxing knowledge in the ring. The fact is I’d never want to be in a position where I needed to use those boxing skills. Ossie’s bottom-line: Avoid trouble. Don’t seek it.
A couple years later, Ossie moved his gym to Culver Road. I kept up my twice-weekly boxing workout with him. The move changed a lot of things. For one, the display case with Rocky’s gloves never appeared again. For a long time, I wondered what Ossie did with those gloves.
The change to the city also brought more students. Sometimes, Ossie just didn’t have enough space and training equipment to go around, so the late-comers could not be included in that hour’s lesson.
By this time, Ossie and I had become friends. Actually, I had begun to revere Ossie as the Great Samuri Master. Of course, I knew the practical Ossie just saw me as a regular guy who liked to sweat. Many times, though, Ossie would allow me to have a session outside of regular hours so I didn’t have to sit through the beginner’s lessons.
One day, though, I decided to attend at the regular time. Upon arriving, I immediately saw student boxers taking up all the available spaces on the wooden benches. “I’m only short one pair of gloves,” Ossie said. He suggested I might want to share a pair with one of the other students.
We both knew the infeasibility of that option. I offered to come back another day. Ossie felt bad.
“Wait,” he said as he opened his personal locker. From the top of the locker, he pulled down a pair of old gloves. He gave me the gloves and said, “You have big hands. These gloves should fit you.”
As he strapped the gloves on me, he spoke, “You know, Rocky Graziano once wore these gloves. I used to show them in a display case.”
Last Week #61: In Praise of Honorable Men (originally published on May 24, 1990)
Next Week #63: D.C. Turf Wars (originally published on June 7, 1990)
[What is this and why is here? See Interested in Discovering My Time Machine? for more details.]
Author’s Comment: I didn’t make this up. I also cannot understate the pride I had – for my parents and grandparents – when Ossie let me wear Rocky Graziano’s gloves. Ossie was a great teacher and, although I’m sure I can’t move as fast as I use to, I’m pretty sure the sequence he taught would come back to me in an instant if I ever needed it. But, as Ossie no doubt knew, such an occasion has never arisen.
I also took lessons from Ossie. I forgot the sequence of the full shot, 8 punches i believe. He was a Great Man…
Right, Left, uppercut, uppercut,?,?,Left,right cross – is that even close?
I trained with ossie in 90 when he was in E. Rochester.
My kids are taking karate now and I’ve been thinking of the 8 punch. I think it was left-right, upper cut-upper cut, hook-hook, left-right. His training helped me out in two circumstances…Thanks Ossie! Been looking for a good picture of him.
I am looking for pictures of Ossie Sussman…please reply to berflynn@yahoo.com
I’ll tweet this request out.
I too trained with Ossie, took Karate from him that is, not boxing. He was a GREAT man, and teacher. Does anyone know if he had anyone take over his self-defense techniques, like a son, or anyone? Please anyone let me know. maggiemermaid1972@yahoo.com
I was a kid who got beaten up a lot in elementary and early middle school. My parents had told me it was okay to fight back – – “Don’t start a fight, but if someone else starts it, YOU FINISH it! ” – – but had never taught me HOW. As I put it to my parents around the fifth grade, “[The bullies’] fists are made out of rock, and mine are made out of Jell-O!”
In sixth grade my parents finally decided something needed to be done, and signed me up for boxing lessons with Ossie Sussman the summer between fifth and sixth grade – – I make it 1975, and myself aged 12.
Is I really understand it, my mom somehow knew Ossie permanently, from personally, from years before, which was how she came to choose him to help me. I don’t know if that relationship had anything to do with the fact that I always had a *private*, one-on-one lesson, in the studio on Monroe Avenue. (Indeed, driving past there this very afternoon is what made me Google him and find this page just now.) I do believe you guys have the sequence right, although I can’t account for eight punches, only six unless there are separate “hook” and “cross” punches; my memory is a little fuzzy on the terminology). Anyway, the sequence he had me throw was left jab, right jab, left hook (or cross), right hook (or cross), left upper cut, right uppercut – – sometimes finishing up with a “clinch.
For my very last lesson, my mother brought a movie camera and made a three-minute 8mm movie of me and Ossie doing our thing. At the end, she even had a little extra film, and we jokingly filmed me showing off my boxing-developed bicep for my little sister, and appearing to straighten a crooked metal signpost. That film is probably around somewhere, but good luck in my finding it and ever getting it converted to any sort of Internet-postable format!
Okama and I forgot to mention – – the first time a bully came up to me before school the first week of 6th grade comma and threw a punch at me, I finally threw an effective one back. From the crowd of kids gathered around, I heard excited murmurs and mutterings that included the name of Muhammad Ali. …And I was never beaten up again!
Chris, thanks for the comment. I, too, was the beneficiary of one-on-one lessons towards the end, but mostly because I think I was older than the average student. Plus I asked him a lot of questions about a lot of things (as you can tell by my story) and he seemed grateful that I would show interest in his lifetime achievements. If you ever do up-load that movie, put a link in the comment section so we can all see it!
This is a great lesson that should be taught to all.
If and when I find, convert, and upload, I definitely will link. I can’t promise a timeframe, though.
Great article and you really captured the essence of Ossie. I was the lucky student who did many demonstrations with him for various organizations and a television commercial. Great guy! Very much a master of self defense but even more so, a wonderful mentor and teacher of valuable and relevant life lessons.
Mike: Thanks for the comment. When were you a student of his? Is the commercial on the internet somewhere. I’d like to see it and, if I can, provide a link to it.
My Dad was a friend of Ossie’s, and I ended up taking both boxing and karate lessons from him in 1971. I still have the first board that I broke during a karate lesson. Ossie wrote something nice on it for me, and signed his name. It’s in the same condition that it was in the day that I put it away for safekeeping. A special memory to he sure.
I took the boxing and karate lessons from Ozzie when I was 13. When I finished my 2nd black belt in an Okinawan karate style I forgot his karate moves except for the defense from the grab from behind. However The boxing moves I have practiced a couple times a week and no them all in sequence. I’m 64 now. L LL. LLR LHR LHH. LRU. LRUU BLOCK A L. LR. ETC. he was an amazing man
All I can say is “Wow!” I remember that sequence, too.
The full count was actually left…right..L uppercut..R uppercut…L hook… Right straight punch…left jab ….Right finishing straight punch (L R U U H R L R ) I’ve taught the entire course to all my kids…grandchildren ..nieces and nephews. If you practice all the moves it can get you out of a jam…even if you never become a boxer or black belt🤓