Oh, boy.
- You think Johnston set that up? - Yeah, I think maybe.
A few extra pics for the dailies.
From the gentleman who just arrived.
Mr. Baer said to wish you bon voyage.
Don¡¯t open it. We¡¯ll take it with us.
- Hey, Joey? - Yeah?
- Get the coats. - Whoa, whoa, Jim.
Jim. Jimmy.
- Well, if it ain¡¯t Cinderella Man. - Thanks for the champagne.
You¡¯re doing great publicizing the fight. I appreciate it.
I hope it¡¯s gonna be a very successful night for both of us.
You keep tellin¡¯ people you¡¯re gonna kill me in the ring.
I got three kids. You¡¯re upsettin¡¯ my family, particularly my wife.
Listen, Braddock.
I¡¯m asking you sincerely not to take this fight.
Now, you seem like a decent fella. People admire you.
I really don¡¯twantto hurt you.
It¡¯s no joke, pal. People die in fairy tales all the time.
- Max! - Jim! How about a shot?
- Smile. - There you go.
- Just smile. - One more.
Yeah, the smart thing¡¯d be for you to take a fall.
Circus act¡¯s over, old man.
- Right here. - Great.
I think I¡¯ll go a few rounds with the dancing Baer.
Very good. OK. OK.
Hey, we¡¯ll see you in the ring. How about that, champ?
Yeah? Come on. Let¡¯s go, Jim.
Max, my wife Mae.
You oughta talk to him, Mae.
You are far too pretty to be a widow.
- That¡¯s not nice, Max. Not nice. - Maybe I can comfort you after he¡¯s gone.
Hey! I said shut your goddamn mouth, you punk!
Sorry. Send me the cleaning bill.
Get that, boys? Now he¡¯s got his wife doin¡¯ his fighting for him.
Yeah. Ain¡¯t she something?
Get me a drink.
OK. Three-punch combo, OK?
Pop, pop, bang. Come on.
Yeah. That¡¯s good.
Keep your thumbs tucked in, keep your elbows in.
All right, that¡¯s enough now.
- There¡¯s some sting in that. - That¡¯s enough, please.
Yeah, good. Bang.
- I want a turn, Dad. - Where¡¯s the defense? Get your hands up.
I want a turn.
Pop, pop, bang.
Pop, bang, bang.
Come on, Howie.
That¡¯s enough! No boxing in the house!
No boxing out of the house. All right? No boxing, period.
You¡¯re gonna stay in school, and then go to college and have professions.
Because you¡¯re not gonna have your skulls smashed in too.
Do you understand me? Is that clear?
Why don¡¯tyou get readyfor bed?
I... used to pray...
for you to get hurt just enough
so you couldn¡¯t fight anymore.
And when they took your license away, even scared as I was,
I went to the church and I thanked God for it.
¡®Cause I always knew a day might come when it could kill you.
- I just knew it, Jimmy, and now it¡¯s here. - Hey. You just got the jitters.
He¡¯s killed two men, Jimmy. What¡¯s worth it? Huh? What¡¯s worth it?
I have to believe I got some kind of say over our lives.
OK?
If things are bad, that we can change ¡®em. We can make things better for our family.
But I need you to be safe!
- Nothing¡¯s safe, and without that... - So much!
- Nothing¡¯s safe at all. - I need you to be safe. All right.
I have stood by for all of it.
Until now.
Not for this, Jimmy. I just can¡¯t.
So you train all you want. Make a show of it for yourself, for the papers.
But you find a way out of that fight.
Break your hand again if you have to.
So ho/s he doing?
He¡¯s old, he¡¯s arthritic,
and his ribs haven¡¯t been right since the Lasky fight.
What¡¯s the bad news, sunshine?
- Joe. The reporters are here. - Jesus.
Right. Get rid of that goddamn rib protector. Jimmy!
Press is here, boyo! Get bouncing around in that ring!
Showtime, big smiles! You¡¯re the belle of the ball!
Baer don¡¯t need to know about no goddamn ribs.
Bye, Dad.
Come on. Lets go. Lets go.
Let¡¯s go. Come on.
- Look! It¡¯s Braddock! - Jimmy!
There¡¯s Braddock!
Hey, this is your night, Bulldog.
- Give him a good fight, now. - We¡¯re with you, Jimmy!
You¡¯re gonna beat him, Bulldog!
- Well, look who¡¯s here. - Hi, Aunt Alice.
Come on in.
No radio, all right?
- Yeah. Sure. - All right. Be back soon.
- Hello, Mae. - I came to pray for Jim.
So did they.
Yeah.
They all think that Jim¡¯s... fighting for them.
- Yeah? - Who beat that John Henry Lewis?
- That Braddock guy. - Correct.
Who whupped that Art Lasky punk?
- James J. Braddock. - Correct again.
Now, refresh me on this one. Who was it that took that Corn Griffin
and turned him inside out with no questions asked?
Who was that?
OCR failed!
No, don¡¯t you sell yourself short.
At some stage, you think maybe we¡¯ll do some taping, maybe?
Why not, why not?
Let¡¯s see. How¡¯s that?
What?
Excuse me, ma¡¯am.
You can¡¯t win without me behind you.
That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been trying to tell you.
Maybe I understand some about havin¡¯ a fight.
So you just remember who you are.
You¡¯re the Bulldog of Bergen
and the pride of New Jersey.
You¡¯re everybody¡¯s hope,
and you¡¯re your kids¡¯ hero.
And you are the champion of my heart, James J. Braddock.
You know, you¡¯d better go home.
You know, boxers hang around places like this
and you don¡¯t want to get tangled up in that kind of crowd.
A nice girl like you.
OK.
I¡¯ll see you at home.
Please, Jimmy.
I¡¯ll see you at home?
See you at home, baby.
Madison Square Garden Bowl...
the biggest pugilistic event of the year.
Max Baer versus the Cinderella Man - Jimmy Braddock.
In a moment, the contestants for tonight¡¯s bout will be making their way to the ring.
God Almighty.
Jim Braddock¡¯s rise to number one heavyweight contender
has truly been miraculous.
Never in all my years have I seen this arena so quiet.
You can do it, Jimmy!
James J. Braddock, the Cinderella Man,
who just a year ago was standing in a bread line.
Braddock¡¯s a tremendous underdog with the betters,
but you wouldn¡¯t know it from the crowd¡¯s reaction.
People buying tickets looked as if they were spending their last dollar.
But they¡¯re here now, and 35,000 strong. Listen to them!
We understand Max Baer has left his dressing room. There he is.
Baer has the look and swagger of a Hollywood star.
Tonight there¡¯ll be no playacting, not with Braddock in the ring. This fight is for real.
The table¡¯s been set: let¡¯s get to the main course.
Gentlemen, I gave you the rules in the dressing room.
- One minute to midnight, Cinderella. - Your clock¡¯s about ticked down, asshole.
Tell laughing boy no backhanding.
- No holding and hitting on the breakaway. - No low blows.
- Tell this bohunk no manhandling. - Watch your language, you nasty little shit.
- Holy mackerel, it talks! Look at that. - Keep your hands up at all times.
Touch gloves and come out fighting. Good luck. Go to your corners.
I¡¯ll kick his Mick balls up to the roof of his mouth. That oughta taste familiar.
Come on, Jimmy boy!
Come on, boys. Get some pictures here. Come on!
You can do this. This guy is made for you.
Have a picnic, all right?
There¡¯s the bell, and the fight is on.
The boys come out and immediately Braddock shoots a left to Max¡¯s jaw.
That¡¯s it. Take it right to him, Jimmy.
Now, now.
He snaps Braddock¡¯s head back with two uppercuts.
It¡¯s always the question of which Max will show up in the first round - killer or clown?
It looks like he¡¯s enjoying himself, mugging for the crowd.
A big flurry by Braddock. A vicious right to the head.
Take it easy, pal. I¡¯ll let it go a couple of rounds.
Madcap Maxie is heavily favored to put the long snore on Jim in the first round.
That right hand is dynamite, especially with his man on the ropes.
He¡¯s gonna carry him for a couple of rounds.
Break it up. Break it up, I said!
Jim survived the round and looked pretty good doing it.
Braddock will not be bullied, not tonight.
When he does this horseshit, knock it off. He¡¯s trying to thumb you.
And then slip inside of there and shorten up the punches, right?
Shorten ¡®em up. That¡¯s your turf. Inside is yours.
- Put him down, Braddock! - Come on, Braddock!
Well, no one expected Braddock to go past the first round.
- Stay inside of him. - The experts were wrong again.
- Shorten ¡®em up! - There¡¯s the bell. The second round.
Now add some salt on it!
Braddock lands a hard right to the head. Max swats him away with utter contempt.
He appears to be toying with Braddock. There¡¯s no other word for it.
Struts around the ring without a care in the world.
Sharp and vicious. Clip it, short. Good.
Knock that out.
And Max responds with swinging rights and lefts. All power punches from Maxie.
Braddock comes back with a vicious right to the head.
Cover up. Cover up.
Is that the right spot, Jimmy?
Break it up. Make it clean.
How are those ribs?
OK. All right. Take it easy. Just breathe.
- Deep breaths. Relax. - Good rhythm.
You¡¯re looking great out there, Jimmy. You look great.
Hey, Jim? Jim?
If he goes for your body, drop the elbows on him.
Teach him a lesson. Break his goddamn hand.
That round was tough to score. Braddock landed several right hands.
And those thunderous body punches by the champ
should pay dividends in the later rounds.
In the fifth, Baer¡¯s smile is gone.
Jimmy comes in there with a hard right, then neatly slides up to Baer¡¯s left.
Avoiding the counterpunch, Jimmy sticks a jab.
Now the crowd is jeering and even laughing at the champ,
and Maxie¡¯s none too pleased.
All right, break it. Break. Break, break.
Baer backhands Braddock across the face. That¡¯II cost Maxie.
- You lousy shaygitz! - That¡¯s a warning, Max.
I¡¯m sorry.
- Hows that wife of yours? - Break!
- Does she talk about me? - Break off the wrastling. Break it up.
Quit fooling around, Max.
- Low blow! - Keep ¡®em up.
Wake up, you wet son of a bitch!
Max salutes the crowd. He¡¯s one of a kind, folks.
Say my name in her sleep?
Baer took a chinful of Braddock¡¯s head in that clinch.
That¡¯s it! Work his body!
She miss me?
Baer grips Braddock¡¯s head in a headlock.
Hey, Max! You gonna punch him or pork him?
That¡¯s your job, asshole.
Jimmy fights his way free, gets a shot to the head.
You kidding me? You watching this?
You¡¯re gonna get hurt.
Braddock keeps punching. They hammer each other toe-to-toe.
Keep your hands up and mouth shut.
You watching the fight, or the cute guy in the front row?
Take a seat, Maxie. He¡¯s nothin¡¯, nobody. The guy has got nothin¡¯.
Jesus. Sit down.
Give me the sponge.
- What are you doin¡¯? - Don¡¯t worry about it.
- Quit screwing around. - Relax.
Give me the goddamn water.
Ten seconds!
Hit this guy. Hit him! Hit him!
Cut him down to size!
Shit.
In the seventh, the boys come out again.
And Max is all business now.
- Get him! - Come on!
Slide it, Jimmy!
Braddock starting to look his age here as Baer pushes him around the ring.
Baer swings hard to the body. Braddock gets in a right to the head.
Jesus Christ.
Baer with a tremendous shot. That was the hardest blow in the fight.
Baer pounds him again, with another right to the head.
Push him, push him!
Braddock gets in a vicious uppercut.
- Baer keeps on punching. - Johnny!
That¡¯s enough. Break it up, break it up.
You¡¯re gonna go home in butcher paper.
Butcher paper!
All right, let me see that nose.
Get it out, get it out. Let me see it, Jim.
That¡¯s nothing. That¡¯s a piece of cake.
Keep your head up, breathe through your mouth. Breathe, breathe.
All your ugly friends are down from Jersey. They dressed up nice, came to see you.
You¡¯re putting ¡®em to sleep. You¡¯re not turning him anymore, Jimmy.
Come on, pick it up. Spit that out, boyo.
Good boy. Good boy, good boy.
Good boy. Come on.
The boys go after each other immediately.
- Braddock gets in a left to the body and... - Mae.
It¡¯s the cops.
Braddock stumbles away. Baer tries that right again.
They come together. Braddock swings a left and a right.
Please, Ma.
Braddock sticks out a left. Baer still after him.
Another left, and a hard right! That¡¯s knocked Baer for a moment.
Baer tries that right again.
A hard right to Braddock¡¯s head. Braddock is hurt. His legs are gone.
Braddock sticks out a left. Another left.
Neither man will back down. It¡¯s a slugfest, folks.
And there¡¯s the bell.
James J. Braddock has exhibited a lot of heart here
over 11 grueling rounds with the champion.
Nobody expected him to last more than a few innings with Baer,
yet here he is, and he¡¯s held his own.
But now we head into the championship rounds, folks.
Jim? Look at me.
I swear to God, boyo. Win, lose or draw...
Thanks, Joey. For all of it.
Son of a bitch. All right? Stop talking. Get in there!
And bury him!
Come on, Jimmy!
Here in the 12th, James J. Braddock is showing this crowd what heart is all about.
Jimmy seems to be timing that left and has slapped it away several times.
You stay with him! Son of a bitch!
Braddock with a shoeshine. Left-right, left-right!
- Am I seeing what I¡¯m seeing? - Finish him, Jimmy, finish him!
Braddock! Braddock!
Maxie¡¯s glamour-boy smile is now a bloody grimace.
This crowd is definitely hoping for a Braddock victory.
But Mr. Baer might have something to say about that.
Holy crap!
Low blow!
Jesus!
- Hey! Why not just kick him in the balls? - Joe, back in your corner.
What are you afraid of, you son of a bitch?
- Come on, ref. - Jesus Christ!
McAvoy is on the verge of losing control of this fight.
Knock him on the ground, Bulldog!
- Last round. - That¡¯s right! Next champ!
You won this one. It¡¯s a cinch. It is yours.
But I want you to play it cagey now. All right?
I know you don¡¯t like laying back, but I want to stay away from his right.
Do you understand me? Stay away.
Right hand.
You¡¯re behind. Are you listening to me?
You wanna lose the championship to this goddamn nobody?
This is your night.
Stay away.
Put him down! Put him down!
Use the right hand, right hand.
This is it. This is your shot.
- Ten seconds! - Finish him.
It¡¯s the last round, Jimmy. There ain¡¯t no more.
You play this bastard smart and they can¡¯t take it from you.
One more round. McAvoy is at center ring, waiting for the fighters to join him.
Touch gloves.
The boys touch gloves at center ring. And now they¡¯re right back at it!
No, Jimmy!
Leave him alone!
Stay away from him! That ain¡¯t laying back!
Braddock¡¯s corner is yelling at him to stay away from Baer,
who¡¯s looking for the knockout.
Stay off him, Jim. Come on.
Right hand, Max!
What is he, stupid?
Step away, step away!
trying to survive this brutal onslaught.
Stay off him!
Looking good, Maxie!
That¡¯s the uppercut. Stay the hell away from it.
Baer cutting loose with thunderous shots.
A left to the body. Baer, again with the right.
Braddock covering up, trying to hang on.
Baer looking for the knockout. He doesn¡¯t want this one to go to the cards, folks.
They pound each other with lefts and rights.
Braddock blocking with his gloves and elbows. Snaps a big right to Maxie¡¯s jaw.
Baer smashes him with a big right.
Braddock is back on the ropes.
Braddock lands a crushing right!
Maxie desperately wants to keep the crown from slipping away.
Jesus Christ!
Stay with him.
Both fighters are tired.
Baer is trying wildly for the knockout.
Jimmy is still standing. And he¡¯s not only standing, he¡¯s moving forward.
This is the finish. Both boys are tired.
This is not boxing, folks. This is a walloping ballet.
- Ten seconds! - Son of a bitch.
There¡¯s the bell! It¡¯s over! This fight is over!
Son of a bitch!
What a fight! Unbelievable!
Braddock came into this fight the biggest underdog in pugilistic history.
For 15 rounds he gave it everything he had
against the younger, stronger champion.
We are waiting for the decision.
It¡¯s over.
McAvoy. McAvoy.
- What? - Help me out. How¡¯d you score the fight?
- Nine-five, one even. - Which way?
- You have to read it in the papers, Sporty. - No, come on!
What the hell is this crap?
They take this long to make a decision, they¡¯re gonna decide to screw someone.
- Make a decision! - They¡¯re gonna rob this poor bastard.
OCR failed!
Come on, make a decision here!
The crowd, on its feet for almost the entire fight, is still standing,
yelling for who they clearly believe to be the winner of this fight.
We¡¯ll have to wait and see how the judges scored it.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we have your decision.
It¡¯s unanimous.
Winner and the new world champion,
James J. Braddock!
You son of a bitch.
Jim Braddock has defeated Max Baer
for the heavyweight championship of the world!
He won!