In the ring, no matter how far ahead you are, no matter how many rounds you’ve been in, there’s a risk that until the final bell rings, another guy could suddenly erase all the good work you’ve done with one punch.
The same applies to the warrior and his money. Countless boxers have built seemingly insurmountable leads, made millions, tens or even hundreds of millions, and then found a way to lose it all.
You know that quote from Ernest Hemingway? The sun still risesMike was asked how he went bankrupt and he said: “Gradually, then suddenly”? For boxers, either adverb will do. Some gradually went bankrupt. Some suddenly went bankrupt. But the sad truth is that many of them make what seems like enough money to last them several lifetimes, only to wake up one day with nothing.
Gerry Cooney is one of the exceptions to the rule.
There’s no doubt that Cooney is battling inner demons. He had his struggles and his downs. But once he makes money, he’s in no danger of spending it all. As the 35th anniversary of his last game approaches, he’s still living a comfortable life without having to work a 9-to-5 job.
For a man who clocks in and out more than he should, he takes pride and comfort in avoiding clocking out.
The former heavyweight title challenger made several smart decisions, but at the core was his attitude toward money as a young man.
“I always said, ‘The rainy days are coming,'” Cooney, 68, recalled this week. “I grew up knowing about poverty — or what some might call the side of middle-class poverty, whatever you want to call it — but I knew there was always a rainy day. I’d seen it so many times in other people, especially Athletes, they thought it would never end. But, boy, you did.”
During his career from 1977 to 1990, “Gentleman” Gerry compiled a 28-3 record (24 KOs) and earned approximately $15 million in total purses (before manager and trainer deductions and before tax). He said the prize for his biggest fight, a failed 1982 challenge to heavyweight champion Larry Holmes, was not the widely reported $10 million but $8.5 million. He also had several low-seven-figure paydays against Ken Norton in 1981, Michael Spinks in 1987 and George Foreman in 1990.
Add it all up, and Cooney makes significantly more money than the average worker makes in a 50-year career, but that’s only a small part of the equation. Estimated $400 million Mike Tyson’s moves in the boxing ring. However, Tyson filed for bankruptcy in 2003 and reportedly had more debt at the time than Cooney had made during his time as a boxer.
Of course, Tyson is an extreme example. But the broad outlines of what he went through are shared by many boxers who have gone on to greatness. Cooney, however, avoids all of these pitfalls.
“I don’t have a lot of money,” Cooney said. Is he living a celebrity lifestyle? Yes, to some extent. He partied with Elton John (“He was the only person who ever kissed me on the lips,” Cooney laughs) and became friends with Bob Hope. But, he noted, “I never cared about owning a Rolls-Royce or anything like that.”
This is obviously helpful for maintaining financial stability, but it takes more than that – especially if you want to at least spend some money Some Money makes your life enjoyable. Cooney has no trouble identifying his key moments:
“I hooked up with a nice guy named Don Scanlon who had a few seats on Wall Street. He was a former boxer [in the Golden Gloves]an Irishman, [and] He wanted me to train his son. We became friends and he asked me to ask his financial people for help – it was the best thing that ever happened to me. “
The road to getting to this point hasn’t always been easy. When Cooney turned pro at age 20, he signed a 16-year contract with head coaches Mike Jones and Dennis Rappaport.
“They don’t give a damn about me,” Cooney said bluntly. “I have to have one person spy on the other person. They’re two real estate guys and what I like about them is they have [Olympic gold medalist] Howard Davis, so I felt like, okay, I can fight with all of his cards and I can show it all over the country.
“Little did I know I signed a 16-year contract. My dad had just passed away [the year before]. My father knew nothing about the contract. My mother knew nothing about the contract. I know nothing about the contract. So I signed this contract. I felt trapped by them, but for a while I just accepted it. “
Cooney said he had never seen any money before his November 1979 fight with John Dino Denis – he was living off his manager’s $200 weekly stipend until the Denis fight for He won a check big enough to pay them back. But then he started earning a handsome salary.
“That’s when I realized I needed my own personal attorney, I needed my own personal accountant,” he said. “This is my biggest advice to boxers starting to make money now. Go to your state athletic commission. Tell them you need help. You need to find a good accountant who is separate from your manager and promoter, and the commission should be able to provide Help. Go to a lawyer and find out where your money went, who took it, and what happened to it.
“I have to say, I think boxers are better at that than I was when I was fighting. These guys keep the money better.”
Boxing pundits often point to Cooney as an example of career mismanagement, as he prepared for his title shot by knocking out Jimmy Young, Ron Lyle and Norton, then sat idle for 13 months to await Holmes. battle. He was competitive against Holmes, but faded and was stopped in the 13th round – leaving everyone wondering if he could fight with more rounds and more before a life-changing payday. Become a champion with less rust.
Cooney himself has mixed feelings about the incident.
“Sometimes I wish I had a Bob Arum to manage me the right way and get me in the right fights,” Cooney said. “Or if I go with Don King, maybe I can fight the right guy and have the best experience. But who knows? I’d probably be pissed if it came to that.
“It’s how it turned out and I’m sorry but I won’t hold on to them. I forgive the people who sucked the life out of me because other than that all I did was hold on. They didn’t think about me at all, right So I turn the page. Does it bother me sometimes? What can I do now?
Anyone familiar with Gerry Cooney’s story knows his toughest struggles. It’s not out of regret or a desire for him to be world champion, and it’s certainly not about managing his money. The most intense struggle for him was with the bottle.
“I stopped drinking 36 years ago,” Cooney said. “Listen, we make mistakes. We get up, dust off our pants, and keep going. We fall, we get up again, and keep going. On April 21, 1988, I quit drinking. My Life Something has changed.
“I’ve learned a lot of things that I couldn’t have learned at other times in my life. The books I read now are completely different from the books I read ten years ago. I understand a lot now through the process of quitting drinking and getting to know myself and not blaming myself. No one came to pick me up. I turned the page.”
Cooney’s life today includes co-hosting in battle Working at SiriusXM Radio with Randy Gordon, he also made money by speaking, doing corporate gigs, and even teaching a little boxing. He has a long history of philanthropy. His most notable effort in this regard was the establishment of FIST (Boxer Initiative for Support and Training) in 1998 to provide counseling and employment services to boxers.
For Cooney, everything connects. His financial stability helps his mental health and ability to stay sober. Giving up drinking helped him keep his mind and wallet strong. Learning to let go of regrets has brought him happiness and success in other areas.
Beyond that, there’s another factor at the heart of it all: his marriage to his wife, Jennifer, of more than 30 years.
“I’m a very wealthy man in many ways,” he said. “I have a wonderful wife. I have a wonderful family. We have a beautiful home. We’re lucky and we’re able to do what we want to do. So honestly, I feel like I’m the richest man in the world ”
Eric Raskin is a veteran boxing reporter with more than 25 years covering the sport for outlets including BoxingScene, ESPN, Grantland, Playboy, Ringside Seat and The Ring (where he served as managing editor for seven years) Movement experience. He also co-hosts the HBO Boxing Podcast, Showtime Boxing with Raskin & Mulvaney, The Interim Champion Boxing Podcast with Raskin & Mulvaney, and Ring Theory. He has won three First Writing Awards from the BWAA for his work on The Ring, Grantland, and HBO. Outside of boxing, he is a senior editor at Boxing Magazine. casino report and the author of 2014 money making effect. He can be reached via X or LinkedInor send an email to RaskinBoxing@yahoo.com.
