I have two gyms, 3000 miles apart.  I don’t say ‘own’ because I may own the contents I don’t own the concept. Boxing began long before me and will live long after. Boxing has always been the salvation of the poor and disenfranchised, the kid who didn’t fit in, the one looking for a way out. It didn’t matter how you got here, only how you were going to survive here. No Jews, No Colored and No Irish Need Apply. Boxing was their ticket out of the ghetto.

 Unlike them boxing didn’t save my life, it gave me one. My middle class upbringing in a pretty nice section of Brooklyn didn’t need saving. I didn’t start boxing until my third year of college and when I had to choose between boxing and law school, I took boxing. In my life I’ve had to choose between boxing and a lot of things – girls, careers, common sense – but boxing always came out on top. Boxing didn’t save my life, it gave me one. One I couldn’t have imagined when I first put on a pair of boxing gloves on a Saturday morning in the summer of 1980 and saw my future staring back at me in the mirror. I was, is and ever will be a fighter. 

I ‘own’ two gyms because I owe a debt of gratitude to the people that made this possible – from the trainers I’ve had to the gym owners I’ve known and the people I’ve trained who made me who I am so that I can make you who you are – a fighter. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, what color you are or who you pray to. In the ring you’re nobody till somebody punches you. What you do next is who you are. I’m here to teach you what to do next.