Packy’s World: Forget About the Heavyweight Division, Eli Wallach, PACKY is ATTACKED, My Pal Al & “Bad” Brad Berkwitt Awarded The Chutzpah Award

By Packy “Boom Boom” Goldstein

Oy Vay are you going to hear it today… Sadie and I watched the amazing fireworks from our balcony Saturday and as they always do, they didn’t disappoint. The Biscayne Bay by our home is so pretty this time of year when the fireworks go off, and light up the water, which is a sight to see. So much to talk about and let me warn you RSR readers right now, this column is going to be Rated R because some real schmucks attacked ole “Boom Boom”. However, their bagels are in their throats now.

Heavyweight Division… Contrary to many boxing writers saying Deontay Wilder is the savior of the heavyweight division (they have lost their minds for the record) the heavyweight division is in funk that thank the Boxing Gods for the lower divisions and even up to light heavyweight carrying the entire sport of boxing. Of course I respect any man that laces up the gloves, but calling it like I see it. My bagels are aching for a real heavyweight to come on the scene like Lennox Lewis, Evander Holyfield and a prime Mike Tyson before him.

Eli Wallach… Not only was he a fantastic actor, he was a helluva of nice man too.  Anything he was in, even if the movie was not that great, he was. RIP

Packy ATTACKED… OK here is where my column is going to go R Rated RSR readers. I received two emails amongst many positive ones, but these needed to be reprinted. Of course they were cut off at their bagels. Be warned, anyone who emails this crap will. I may be old and my bagels may not be what they once were in my heyday, but I am no pushover.

Packy Slacky piece of garbage You know nothing about boxing you old bastard. Floyd Mayweather is a GOD AND you are just an old bitter man. You should die!

Antwon G.

Antwon G.

All CAPS huh? I can tell you are about 5’1 at best and have a Napoleon complex. Floyd is God? In what universe? Wait, I know what universe. The one which rotates around Floyd’s bagels. Packy should die? Let me tell you something boychick! At 85, I can go at anytime. Just know this. In those 85 years, I lived a lot of life something that you cannot say. If I were to wager, you will be lucky if you make it to 35! But I will leave you like this boychick. “May you be fruitful and multiplied, but not in those words”. Ask someone if you don’t get the underline meaning schmuck.

“Boom Boom” my ass old man. I punk and steal old peoples social security money like yours every month. Let me see you in my neighborhood and you will be the next old man.

Jesse B.

Jesse B.

Is that right? I am sure you are proud of yourself. You have as much of a chance of stealing a fart from me as you do my social security putz! Let’s do this. If I wanted your thoughts, I would give them to you.

My Pal Al (“Bad” Brad’s Father)…

It’s 1979 and a song called Rappers Delight, by the Sugar Hill Gang came out. I know, you are wondering how the hell does an 85 year old man know a thing about rap or this song? Here is where the Al story starts. Sadie and I were living in NYC at the time and Al was living on Miami Beach with Bradley. Bradley loved the song as I am sure many his age did at the time. My phone rings and Al is cracking up. I can hear loud music in the background. I asked Al what are you listening to? He puts the phone to the speaker on his Hi Fi system and I hear the following lyrics:

 

“This young reporter I did adore,
So I rocked some vicious rhymes like I never did before
She said, “Damn, fly guy, I’m in love with you
The Casanova legend must have been true
I said, “By the way, baby, what’s your name?
Said, “I go by name of Lois Lane
And you could be my boyfriend, you surely can,
Just let me quit my boyfriend called Superman.
I said, “He’s a fairy, I do suppose
Flyin’ through the air in pantyhose
He may be very sexy, or even cute,
But he looks like a sucker in a blue and red suit,
I said, “You need a man man who’s got finesse
And his whole name across his chest
He may be able to fly all through the night,
But can he rock a party ’til the early light?
He can’t satisfy you with his little worm,
But I can bust you out with my super sperm!“

I cut and pasted this of course, but this is exactly what I heard 36 years ago. Al found it hysterical that the rappers would say “Super Sperm”. Funny today, you hear all kinds of things in music, but keep in mind, this was very risqué for 1979. To hear Al laugh (the most amazing laugh I ever heard) was hysterical that Sadie who was sitting next to me, also cracked up.

The Chutzpah Award… The Chutzpah Award goes to Bradley Berkwitt AKA “Bad” Brad Berkwitt. I know you Bradley, do not edit this because you truly deserve it young man. As my readers know, I was friends with Bradley’s father since 1949. So of course, when Bradley was born in 1968, I was there in the waiting room with Al. Being a father, I love my kids beyond words, but Al took it even to another level from that. Bradley was his entire world. He ate, slept and gave his only child everything he possibly could. He was not your ordinary father because he was so outspoken and fought for so many causes of the underdog over the years.

He raised Bradley as his mother and father because he had no choice. Bradley could have gone a total different way of life like so many of his crew did, but he chose to work, save and be everything his father so badly wanted him to be. Until Al’s last days of clarity (he was very sick at the end) it was Bradley who he called for, Bradley he talked about and such. I watched Bradley graduate in 1986 from high school something a few felt or should I say, said point blank, he would never do. Shortly thereafter, he joined the Navy and from there, traveled the world doing many jobs that he could not talk about in the INTEL field.

Many times I was privileged to be at his award ceremonies with Al, who beamed from ear to ear. He served our country for 20 years and then, went into Government Contracting for the next several years. Sadie and I were always privy to his inside circle that many are not. He never asked anyone for anything. Had he done so, I would have helped him as his Uncle Stan would have. But as his Uncle Stan said many times to me, “Bradley is self made and I couldn’t be prouder.” Bradley, also as Al did, has always fought for the underdog something Al was so proud of. When I hear Bradley talk, I hear his father and it is brutal honesty, unfiltered and with a passion that is unwavering. I truly respect this young man who I saw the day he was born. I can tell you this. Al was the most loyal person I have ever met. Bradley is not half, not one – third, but fully like his father in this area.

When Bradley lost his dad, he took it very hard. For about a month, he grieved deeply and I can remember like it was yesterday (17 years). I flew from Miami Beach to his house in Virginia to visit him. As I entered his home, I could hear Frank Sinatra singing “I’ll Be Seeing You” from the balcony. Bradley was out there just looking out into the beautiful blue sky that was the scenery that day with I am sure, Alvin on his mind because the lyrics of the song if you know it talk about seeing you.

When he saw me, he hugged me and we both broke out in tears. We sat for hours that day talking about Al. Fast forward to just last night when I spoke to Bradley on the phone. He stills honors the memory of his father and lives his life just like when Al was alive and was so proud of him. Again Bradley, don’t you dare edit anything I said or I will kick you right in your bagels kiddo.

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