Boxing stories: `Rope Burns' is a knockout

"Rope Burns: Stories From the Corner"

by F.X. Toole

Ecco, $23

"By definition, boxing and punching are lethal. So being able to box pretty and lethal - that makes the magic that drives the whole world wild," F.X. Toole declares in his introduction to the six strong stories that make up "Rope Burns."

Toole is certainly optimistic in thinking "the whole world" finds something magical in boxing; the packed arenas in which champions defend their titles don't change the fact that many people regard boxing as an essentially stupid sport, one in which no amount of metaphor and brilliant description can obscure the crude conflict unfolding in its center: two human beings beating the stuffing out of each other. It's indisputable, though, that boxing has had its fair share of charismatic and incredibly gifted athletes, and that its intriguing blend of ballet and brutality has fired the imaginations of many estimable writers. To his considerable credit, Toole's simple, fluid storytelling is impressive enough to overcome the lack of interest - even antipathy - some readers may bring to "the sweet science."

Foremost among the themes connecting these stories is the idea that men involved in boxing belong to a special fraternity governed by its own noble code. In a story called "Fightin in Philly," Toole tells us, "Members of a faction always said my and we: we fought; we're gonna fight; we won; we got beat; my kid. They say we because they fight when their fighter fights and when their fighter gets hit, they get hit. When the fighter wins or loses, they win or lose, and together they feel what that's like."

When "the other guy" commits a transgression, it's usually at the behest of the crooked promoters, judges and referees whose greed constantly threatens the fragile purity of the system. Toole reminds readers on more than one occasion that all combatants - virtuous and sinful alike - would do well to remember that simply being tough ain't enough. You have to be savvy, too, to succeed in the ring.

Four of the stories in "Rope Burns" feature grizzled Irish Catholics, battered men who've been around and seen some things while absorbing punches and acquiring wisdom. Although Toole gives them different names, they could easily be confused for one another. They are resilient, honorable, loyal and unabashedly in love with their fighters, often serving as devoted father figures. In the midst of caring for their strong but vulnerable charges, they light candles in cathedrals, whisper fervent prayers and make bargains with God.

Con Flutey, one of these "slick old white men," is the central figure in "Fightin in Philly." Of Flutey, Toole writes, "He'd been in the game of living a long time, too, and there were parts of himself that were so different from the other parts that he could not understand how they could all be in his one self." Con's many parts include a poetry-loving Korean War vet, an avid reader of Hemingway and Garcia Lorca, a knowledgable fan of Italian Renaissance art and a devotee of the Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno. It should be preposterous that all these personalities reside in one wizened "cut man," but Toole somehow makes Con credible and sympathetic.

Like the fighters he clearly adores, Toole relies on pacing and power to achieve his ends. He knows just when to drop a plot-turning disclosure, maintains a smooth rhythm throughout and wisely exits each tale before risking the loss of his readers' sympathies. That said, believability is probably Toole's strongest suit. Perhaps because he has 20 years of experience as a trainer and cut man, he excels at evoking the grueling, violent regimen behind each fighter's struggle, the rigors of sparring and dreaming.

In real life, few fighters manage to complete their careers or lives without landing on their rears. Boxing lore is full of unhappy endings, and the same can be said for Toole's stories. Even the one tale that concludes with a victory contains a bittersweet tinge. Contributing to the somber tone - and adding a second meaning to the book's subtitle - are the dangerous streets surrounding the gyms where the fighters train.

Their presence weighs heaviest in the title story, which also happens to be the best of this lot. "Rope Burns" is the devastating saga of Henry "Puddin' Pye" Pye, a strapping 17-year-old phenom on his way to Olympic glory. You know from the first paragraph that Pye's story will end in heartbreak, but that knowledge in no way detracts from the tale's relentless momentum. With the 1992 Los Angeles riots as a turbulent backdrop, Toole offers a memorable and deeply affecting tale of love and tragedy. You needn't love boxing - or even care for it - to appreciate Toole's highly accomplished debut.