Scott Frank: Larry Holmes, Rocky & Memories of a Writer’s Childhood

It was 1976 and I was ten years old. I lived in an Ireland where flared trousers and platform boots were only fashionable if they came with shoulder length hair and sideburns and it was a moral atrocity if a household didn’t have framed pictures of JFK and Pope Paul VI adorning its walls. A carnival came to town every summer and, whereas my older siblings enjoyed the vices of dancehalls and public houses, the travelling fair constituted the cornerstone of my social life as a boy. My eldest brother had a car, a Vauxhall Viva as I recall, and he would take me with him from time to time if he ventured to the city and, on a rare occasion, he would take me to the movies. My birthday fell in November and, as his gift to me, he took me to a picture house in a nearby town to see the blockbuster of the day. The film was ‘Rocky’ and my life would never be the same again.

I remember standing on my seat as the entire audience lost control of itself in the grand finale. We screamed and hollered at the screen for Balboa to battle on and I had the unique pleasure of shouting out curse words that only rested well on the tongues of drunks and desperados. We left the theatre that night feeling like we’d been part of something special and, though I may never sit ringside in Las Vegas, I can’t imagine an actual title fight ever tapping into the euphoria of those moments. I was hooked, not just on the power of motion pictures but on the raw energy of men who would pit themselves, mano et mano, for the right to raise a bloody glove in victory.

‘Rocky’, and at least some of its sequels, worked because they depicted the spirit of the sport that would go on to enchant my life. Stallone would later say that he was inspired, in part, by Anthony Quinn in ‘Requiem for a Heavyweight’ and largely by the real life battle between Chuck Wepner and Muhammad Ali. But the soul of the character would turn up time and time again and one such incarnation would come in the guise of New Jersey slugger Scott Frank.

Born on March 30th 1958, Scott decided early in life that, one way or another, boxing was his ticket out of Oakland. As a high school kid, he would hold boxing matches in the basement of his parent’s home and, while his folks were away, he would invite people from the neighborhood to attend. “I’d charge 50 cents a person and we’d get 100 people into the cellar” he would later recall “We’d end up with a $50 purse. I’d get $35 and the other kid $15”. It was an experience that taught him the value of a buck but it lent him a bullish independence that would sometimes taint his relationship with his long term trainer and promoter Lou Duva.

Scott had his pro debut in 1978 with a points win over Joe Maye and three explosive KO wins followed by August of the same year. It was a testament to his team that, in only his fifth outing, he would face the real life “Rocky” Chuck Wepner for the New Jersey State Heavyweight title on September 26th. It would only be respectful to note that Wepner had last defended the Garden State title four years earlier and it would be the last night out for the man known as “The Bayonne Bleeder”. In a bout described as ‘a fight Charles Darwin would have loved: A brutal exhibition of the survival of the fittest’ both men showed huge courage with Scott taking the title by a unanimous decision.

Scott would successfully defend the title three times over the following two years with KO wins over Guy Casale, Bill Connell and Eddie Mallard and, by the summer of 1983, he had put together a superb record of 20-0-1 with the only blemish being a draw against the highly respected Renaldo Snipes who had stunned the world by dropping Larry Holmes in the seventh round of their title bout in 1981. Holmes had recovered to stop Snipes four rounds later but there was a moment when the history books were almost rewritten.

But this was Scott Frank’s time and a ‘Balboa vs Creed’ match up against the brilliant “Easton Assassin” and WBC Heavyweight world champion Larry Holmes was set for September 10th 1983 at the Harrah’s Marina Hotel Casino in Atlantic City. The New Jersey man would dismiss the comparisons to “The Italian Stallion” but it was brawn vs beauty and the media would make it whatever they wanted.

Ever the independent operator, Scott had challenged Holmes directly by actually phoning the champ and calling him out. “He was a little surprised, I guess” Frank once said “but I felt this was the best way to get together. A guy has to get some breaks and be lucky”. Holmes took the challenge in the best possible spirit. “It was the first time” Larry jokingly said “that anyone ever called me to get beat up”. In the build up to the bout, relations between Scott and Lou Duva became strained and the legendary trainer was conspicuously absent from the challengers corner when the bell went for the opening round of the big fight.

Holmes had earned his crust in his previous outing, winning a fiercely contested split decision against the aptly named “Terrible” Tim Witherspoon and he was determined to re-establish himself as the lethal ring technician fight fans had become so familiar with. He’d gone 39 rounds without a knockout and he would take this opportunity to silence the doubters. In a display that was nothing short of clinical, the champion stylishly schooled the brave but base challenger and, save for a flurry in the second round, Scott was floundering when the end came three rounds later. To his credit, Scott Frank went out on his feet but his claims that his eye had been thumbed didn’t fool anyone and he proved to the world that Hollywood and harsh reality were brutal worlds apart.

Scott would, however, create a little magic of his own. He retired after the Holmes fight only to surface again four years later with a stunning first round knockout of Stan Johnson in Crystal City, VA. Thinking better of his decision he would once again retire only to re-emerge a decade down the line with another incredible KO win, this time against Derek Amos in his hometown of New Jersey. After that bout he would hang up the gloves for the very last time. Larry Holmes would go down in the history books as one of the all time greats and Chuck Wepner, now 75, is still remembered fondly by the boxing world and deservedly so. But fighters like Scott Frank, who embodied everything that would have kids and grown men cheering on their feet, will always warrant a seat at the bar when fight fans get to looking back.