You know, I came from a big family. There were seven of us and it seems I always had to fight to get what I needed. Not just what I wanted, but what I needed.

I used to get into scuffles all the time on the playground back in North Bergen. It was this kid named Elmer who started my career off with a bang. I knocked his sorry ass out during recess at St. Joseph's Parochial School and as a result of it, I was fired from my first job as student, if you get my drift. I never was very good at the three R's, but I sure could wail the shit out of someone.

That was the start of it, but there was a lot more. I had to go to work at the tender age of fourteen. I got a job as a delivery boy for Western Union in Union city New Jersey and you know, it wasn't so bad. Most of the older guys were kind of amused by me, but I hung tough. There was this one day when I heard a bunch of them shouting and carrying on, so I had to go check it out. Two guys were giving a blow by blow account of a boxing match. It was Jack Dempsey and Jess Willard and let me tell you, from that moment on I was hooked. Jack Dempsey became my proverbial childhood hero. It was 1919 and he won the heavyweight title that year. I swore someday I'd do the same. Since Dempsy held the coveted position, I figured I'd do exactly what he did. Sooner or later, I'd have to step in shit, right? Well, it didn't happen. I took off riding the rails like some bum and I nearly starved to death. It wasn't long before I headed back home to Jersey, but you know what? Nothing but nothing could ever get the fight out of Jim Braddock. I think I was home for about a half a day before my brother Joe and I got into it. I laid a beating on him, too.

I pissed Joe off every chance I got. You see, he held the New Jersey state title as an amateur pugilist and what he had, I wanted. This one day, I borrowed his sweater without asking him for it and he was madder then a hornet. We got into it again and Ma called the police on us. There was no way she was getting between us. I gave as much as I got from Joe and I think I earned a little bit of respect from him too. He let me borrow his gear for my first real fight in the ring. I went under the name Jimmy Ryan because I didn't want to scare anyone off with them knowing I was Joe's little brother. In less than a year I had a couple of state titles, but I took my share of licking too. I have this style that keeps me flat on my feet, but it don't matter. My right hand was deadly once I managed to get a good hook or jab in.

One day I was messing around in the gym and this guy named Joe Gould came up to me. He said I had a baby face and he was looking for some fresh blood. Joe offered me five bucks to spar with a fighter he was training. I said, 'why not?' Five bucks was a lot of cash back then. I guess Gould figured because I looked like a boy that I wouldn't be so threatening to the chap he was training. He told the man to knock me out. I believe his exact words were, "Knock this bum out". Now, that pissed me off. I went three rounds with the bastard and he saw my right hand more times than I can count. I don't think Joe Gould was too happy that I beat the hell out of his prospect, but it got me work. Joe had me working my ass off and I knocked just about every opponent out. How bout that, huh?

I was still fighting when I met Mae. She was working as a telephone operator in New York City and her brother Howard was a pal of mine. He invited me over for supper one night and told me his little sister was cooking. At first, I figured it to be a set up but I went along anyway. I knew I was gonna marry her the moment I laid eyes on her. Mae Fox was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and she could cook, too. Mae was a shy one, but once she settled down, she was a bit of a smartass. I finally got up the nerve to ask her out on the forth or fifth time I went to the Fox's for supper. My heart was up in my throat as I waited for her to answer. Howard broke the ice when he said, "Go on, Mae. You won't do much better than Jimmy Braddock."

The rest is history. We weren't dating for long before I proposed to her, but with my career on the upswing we were separated a lot. I was training up in the Catskills for some time, but every single day I got a letter from her. She always wrote on green stationary and I think it was a little bit of the old Irish pride that made her do it. Speaking of pride, lots of stuff happened between the time I asked her to be Mrs. Braddock and the actual event occurred. I broke my right hand, and it shut me down as a fighter. I don't think Mae fretted about it too much. I had some holdings, a small cab company for one thing. How could you go broke in New York City with a cab company? In 1929 the stock market crashed but we still felt secure, so we were married in early 1930. It wasn't long before Jay Junior came along and less then a year later, Howie was born. We named him after Mae's brother since he did have a hand in all of this. Anyway, the cab company went bust and Mae and I started selling stuff off to keep shoes on the kid's feet and food in their bellies. We were about as far south as we could get financially when she told me she was pregnant again. Don't get me wrong. Rosie is the apple of my eye, but she came at a time when we could barely find a crumb to feed the boys. I guess it boils down to the fact that I couldn't keep my hands off of my beautiful wife and being a good Catholic boy like I am, well, you know that story. We had kids.

I was searching for work. Moving around on the docks and picking up what I could. I got in the ring here and there to pay the bills, but I broke my right hand again on Abe Feldman's head. The fight was called a no contest and the bastards at the boxing commission took my license away for it. Without the extra money boxing brought in, things got worse for us. They cut our power. I almost lost my kids and it seemed Mae and I fought more. Money, the root of all evil. Work as a stevedore was tough and I had to conceal the fact that I was crippled. I guess I didn't tell you about the car accident I had a few years back. It messed up my knees pretty bad. So, with a gimpy leg and a busted hand, I didn't stand much chance of being picked for day work.

What did I tell you before? No one or nothing can keep Jimmy Braddock down. Things couldn't have been any shittier until one day my old pal Joe Gould showed up and asked me to fight again. He was putting his neck on the line with a bum like me, but what I lacked physically I made up for in heart. You all know the rest of the story. I'm just filling in some holes for you but the entire point of me talking today is to let you know that Mae Fox Braddock is the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect wife in the whole universe. She's stuck with me through thick and thin, she's had my babies, and she's always there for me even when she didn't approve of what I was doing. Mae wasn't and isn't too fond of boxing I might add.

So, we're in a good place now. I'm damn lucky to have my family with me and I'm damn lucky to have what I need to take care of them. I think it's about time I took Mae back to the Catskills for a second honeymoon, don't you? She's earned it. Mae Fox Braddock is the real champ and I'm her biggest fan.

I'll be sure to give you the highlights on our trip upstate. Of course, there are some things a guy's got to keep to himself. If you want to know about the birds and the bees, then buy the book.