remy cerdan
Remy was born to Raphael and Renee Cerdan in Roxbury, Mass., an area known for its share of crime and gang activities. More specifically, Remy lived in the area around Nubian Square, known as one of the most violent neighborhoods in all of Boston. Remy fit right in. His father was an amateur boxer who was talented but not good enough to go pro. Raphael had a large family to feed and bills to pay, so he worked as a laborer for a local construction company. Remy’s mother was a stay-at-home mom. Raphael idolized a legendary boxer from Roxbury: John. L. Sullivan. Known as the “Boston Strong Boy.” Sullivan was recognized as the last heavyweight champion of bare-knuckle boxing and the first gloved heavyweight champion.
As one of seven boys, Remy grew up in a hard-scrabble environment. Survival on the streets of Roxbury meant a boy had to be quick on his feet and handy with his fist. Remy was both. But danger waited around every corner. Two of his older brothers were killed before the age of 19 in gun battles with a rival gang and the police. They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that didn’t matter – they were dead. Remy was headed down a similar road. He was arrested multiple times for petty crimes and jailed once for thirty days for breaking and entering. Once, at the age of 16, he was arrested on suspicion of murder. A local dealer, known as 8-Ball, was shot and killed while standing on a street corner in Remy’s neighborhood. Several witnesses identified Remy as the shooter. Remy’s alibi was flimsy at best, and so he landed behind bars. His stay in jail was brief, however, as the real shooter confessed to his girlfriend that he was the real shooter, which led to his arrest. Remy’s father read the handwriting on the wall and moved his family to Brockton, MA. Remy was 17. Their move proved to be a godsend.
Other than his father, the most important man in Remy’s life was one he had never met: his great-grandfather Marcel Cerdan. Marcel was a professional boxer from France. He was not just another boxer, however. He was the greatest boxer in French history. In 1938, Marcel won the world welterweight championship, boasting a record of 133 wins and four losses, with 66 of his wins coming by knockout. Remy’s father saw in Marcel a role model for his son and opened a boxing gym in Brockton. His wife was a distant relative of the great American boxer from Brockton, Rocky Marciano. Marciano’s widow permitted Raphael to use her husband’s name. Thus, Marciano’s Gym was born. The first boxer Raphael trained was his son Remy.
Remy was a natural. He took to boxing like a duck takes to water. He was small, weighing in at 154 pounds, but he boasted lightning-fast hands and good footwork. Most of all, however, he had the killer instinct. Once he saw blood on the opponent, he became rabid. By the age of 19, he began boxing in local amateur matches, winning most of them easily. The only time he was defeated badly was at the hands of another fighter from Brockton. It was hardly a fair fight, however, as the other boxer outweighed Remy by fifteen pounds. The other man’s name was Marvin Hagler, later known as “Marvelous Marvin Hagler,” middleweight champion of the world.
Remy continued his string of amateur fights, graduating to the pros at age 25. He became known as “The Machine” for his methodical dismantling of his opponents. He fought with fury, but he also fought with finesse. At age 29, he won the welterweight championship, successfully defended his title for 7 years, and then retired. Upon retirement, he took over his father’s gym and began life as a boxing trainer.
It happened on a Saturday morning. A friend of Remy’s father, Jack Shaw, walked into the gym with his son, Michael. Michael was missing his two front teeth; the result of a schoolyard brawl. Jack Shaw asked Remy to help his son learn how to defend himself. Remy didn’t think twice. They started working together the following week.
It didn’t take long for Remy to see there was something special about his new student. Michael was both coachable and determined. Two traits that are mandatory in any sport, but especially in boxing. As the weeks progressed, Michael went from being a novice to becoming a moderately good boxer. He was strong, which worked in his favor, but his footwork needed refining. Remy knew how to do that. Before long, Michael went from being a good boxer to becoming a smart boxer. Remy taught him how to slip punches and cut the ring in half with his footwork. He also taught Michael when to move forward and when to retreat. How to punch and counterpunch. How to conserve his energy while maintaining a vicious pace. In short, he taught Michael the art of self-defense.
It was in his 24th amateur match when Michael faced his biggest test: another amateur boxer with a similar record to his. They were both undefeated. In the final round, with the fight slightly in favor of his opponent, Remy instructed Michael to swing for the fences. This was his final chance. If he didn’t score a knockout, he would lose. Michael fought fiercely for almost two minutes, then did what he was instructed to do. He landed a blow so hard to the jaw of his opponent that the man went down, unconscious and limp as a rag. While on the canvas, he began to convulse. Luckily, he was rushed to the hospital in time. He survived.
Jack Shaw was so pleased with Remy's success with his son that he bought Remy a present: a black-and-tan Rottweiler. They named him Rocky. He was the first in a long line of Rottweilers that Remy owned, each of which he named Rocky. A few years later, Remy pulled up stakes in Brockton and moved to Paris to open a gym under his own name. There, he married Elaina Dumas and settled into Parisian life as well as any boy from Roxbury could. His gym was a throwback to the days when men like his great-grandfather Marcel took up the sport. No flashy chrome and spandex suits. It was a gym for men who were serious about their craft and uninterested in the glitz and glamour found in other gyms. Remy liked it Spartan. It fit his personality.
He reunited with Michael, becoming one of his closest friends and confidants. And while his attempts to play matchmaker for Michael proved fruitless, he was always on the lookout for a suitable date for his friend. Now that Michael was no longer a priest, he deserved to have some fun, which was often denied to the clergy. Try as he might, however, his efforts were unsuccessful.