Pound for Pound Read Free Page B

his face solemn, “Och, there’s nothin worse than a Dundalk biddy,” but he’d always put his arm around Nora’s waist and pull her back to him.
    Dan learned that family meant you fought for and protected one another. As a little boy in a rough neighborhood in New York, he’d been insulated from harm by his big brothers. But in San Pedro, at St. Jude’s school, there were no big brothers on duty—and he was a small freckle-faced kid who talked funny, weighed too much, and looked soft. Biggerand tougher boys knew a mark when they saw one, and Dan was frequently bullied. He watched others tear into his lunch bag, take the pie or cake, and scatter the rest in the street. In the beginning he tried to fight back, but he was chubby and slow, and he quickly realized that he didn’t know how to fight. Dan finally quit fighting back, but never told the sisters at school or anyone at home because he was ashamed of being fat and weak. He withdrew into himself and began to play at home alone.
    Nora was no fool; she knew something had gone wrong and followed Dan to school one day. From down the block, she watched as two older kids pushed him down and ran off with his brown bag. She wanted to rush and comfort him, and then to spank the asses off the kids who had abused her son, but she also wanted Dan to be the one to teach these bullies a lesson. And seeing her good food scattered on the street made her even more furious.
    The next Saturday she took Dan to the Police Athletic League gym near the waterfront. There Dan met his destiny—a part-time boxing coach, Sal Gallardo, who had been a professional fighter in his youth, but like nearly all ex-fighters, he was kind and courteous, and wanted most of all to be known as a gentleman. When he heard Nora out, he suggested boxing to her as a solution to the problem and pointed to the other little kids he was training. She wasn’t sure what to make of him, what with his dark skin and his mashed-in nose. Gallardo added that boxing might be best for Dan because the boys competed with others in the same weight class. He explained how Dan’s size wouldn’t necessarily be a disadvantage, and that he’d be able to build himself up at the same time he learned boxing, the manly art of self-defense.
    Nora was wary, but she liked the “manly” part, and sat with Dan to observe how gentle Coach Gallardo was with his charges. Gallardo’s little guys were lean and quick, and had learned how to fight—a glass cabinet full of Police Athletic League and Golden Gloves trophies testified to that. Nora had never thought of boxing, had no idea how fighters became fighters, had assumed that the strongest fighter was the fighter who always won.
    Coach Gallardo explained that Dan would wear big gloves, head and body protection, and train to get into proper condition before he could box with other boys. “The worst that can happen, Mrs. Cooley, is that he’ll lose weight.”
    Nora started Dan as a spectator, but nudged him gently into Coach Gallardo’s care every Saturday before school was out for summer vacation. It wasn’t long before Dan lost weight, and once that happened, he realized he was fast and strong for his size. Coach Gallardo was careful to make sure Dan understood and could execute fundamentals before he put him in with a suitable opponent—to see if Dan had heart. He did, he did indeed, and was he thrilled with his showing, thrilled with himself, and soon he was strutting to the gym alone.
    Opening day of school the next September, he kicked the shit out of the first bully who came for his lunch. He had to fight three more days and got some lumps for it, but each day he was the one who ate his mother’s pie or cake, and after the third fight, he no longer had to fight to eat. He’d earned the respect of his schoolmates, but most important, he’d earned the respect of his mother, and it was only after the semester began that Nora told Padraic how, with Dan’s willing