IN MY book I tell a story about a man called Bob Bozic and a picture hanging on the wall of a bar in New York. It’s a funny story.
Bozic is not one of the great heavyweights of the early Seventies, but he was tough and one night in September 1973 he shared a ring with Larry Holmes at Madison Square Garden. He lost on points over six rounds; Holmes moved to five and zero and Bozic edged closer to the end of a short career.
Bozic, who was a Canadian, finished with boxing in 1977 and left the sport with 14 wins and three defeats. I met him about 15 years later when he was the barman at Fanelli’s, a secret New York watering hole. There are hundreds of boxing paintings and pictures on the wall in the ancient saloon.
On the first night I met him, we got talking about the picture on the wall. It’s a black and white photograph of a man fighting another man. One man has his vast back to the camera and the other is looking intently in the eyes of his opponent. It was Bozic and, for about 20 years of visits to Fanelli’s, I thought the other man was George Foreman. It was not, it was Larry Holmes. Anyway, that story is in the book. The brilliant Barry Jones solves the mystery.
The real story of that picture is the night at the Garden when Bozic fought Holmes. There were, it seems, a lot of lawless nights at the Garden in the Seventies. Some of the forgotten bills are truly extraordinary.
The main event that night was former world heavyweight champion, Ernie Terrell, against Don King’s new man, Jeff Merritt, who was better known as Candy Slim. It lasted less than a round and Merritt was hauled off Terrell after 2:42 of the first. Terrell never fought again.
It was Candy Slim’s 21st fight, his 20th win and the 15th by stoppage or knockout. He was 6ft 5ins and weighed nearly 17 stone. He was a danger, make no mistake, but at that time, and long before his involvement with King, Candy Slim had slipped and slipped badly.
Merritt started to box in prison, continued to fight when he was released. It is said that Joe Louis vouched for him at a parole hearing, and it might just be true.
In 1969, Merritt beat Roy Williams, who was unbeaten in nine fights, one night in Philadelphia. That is some win.
Merritt was managed by a syndicate and Bob Arum was involved. Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali were also, famously, managed and funded by syndicates. He was sent to Miami to train with Angelo Dundee and the exiled Ali. Candy Slim was doing all the right things, with all the right people.
George Foreman refused him a fight at one point in the very early Seventies. There was 50 grand on the table and Big George’s people said No. It is probably true, but it is more likely just a tale that Dundee told some press men one day. Dundee loved to spin a line like that. In Miami, Merritt kept knocking people out. However, there were stories of his life away from Dundee’s Fifth Street gym and they were not good stories.
In 1971, Merritt vanished on the day of a fight. He was just gone. He had his licence to fight suspended by the local commission but that was not his problem: His problem was heroin; he was an addict.
CLEVELAND – NOVEMBER 28,1973: Jeff Merritt poses after winning the fight against Ron Stander at the Arena on November 28,1973 in Cleveland, Ohio. (Photo by: The Ring Magazine via Getty Images)
The weight started to drop off and it is said that you could easily see the needle marks and the darkened veins in his arms. In late 1971, he toured as part of Ali’s exhibition tour. Ali seemed to like him, but it looked like the end for Candy Slim as a leading heavyweight in a division deep with dangerous men.
At some point in either late 1972 or early 1973, Bundini Brown introduced Merritt to Don King, who was in the early stages of collecting all the heavyweights. King and Merritt spent a lot of time together. It was not an easy ride, but Merritt seems to have got clean and was matched with Terrell at the Garden on the night Bozic lost to Holmes. It was the break that Candy Slim needed. He had regained 20 pounds; his arms and eyes were clean. He had King backing him and he had retired a former champion.
Two months later, Merritt stopped Ron Stander, who had fought Frazier for the world title. Bundini Brown, King and Richie Giachetti celebrated in the ring with Merritt at the end of that fight. It was a short revelry before it started to unravel and there was nothing anybody could do. The drugs came back, the neglect in the gym was obvious and Candy Slim started to spiral. He lost twice in two years and was at war with the world.
Merritt’s last recorded fight was in 1982 at a night club in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He won in the first round, but the victory led nowhere. Soon, Candy Slim was relegated to rare and sad sightings. People saw him panhandling in Las Vegas before big fights and with each new sighting he was older and more broken. I looked several times in the Nineties, but only found the remnants of the Lost Generation.
Back at Fanelli’s the small black and white picture still hangs, and Candy Slim is a reminder that not every picture tells every story.
Steve Bunce: Around the World in 80 Fights. Headline Publishing.
