If you are tired of reading about whether or not Roger Clemens took steroids or whether or not he slept with any number of women in the tri-state area, please keep reading this story about Gino Gelormino.
Gino was a world-rated fighter from Levittown. At the height of his career, he was ranked in the top 10 as a junior lightweight by the WBC. Don King offered him a title shot against Azumah Nelson. The catch was that the purse would be about $30,000, which is an insult when it comes to fighting a future Hall-of-Famer like Nelson. After paying his trainer, his manager, the sanctioning fees and Uncle Sam, the kid from Levittown would have been left with maybe $10,000. Gino was nobody’s fool, so he negotiated for more. The fight never came off and Gelormino retired without ever having challenged for a world title.
So he did what we all do, he went out and got a job and went about the business of raising his family. Gino chased his dream for as long and as hard as he could. But he knew when it was time to let go. He didn’t publicly complain about his career and he wasn’t bitter. He had two beautiful children to focus on and what could be more important than that? He coveted a bigger title now, "Dad."
Gino worked for a while for the Long Island Railroad and, for the last 10 years, he was an iron worker. On Tuesday, May 6, Gelormino died in a construction accident at the Triborough Bridge. He was 47 years old and left behind his wife, Jacqueline, a son, Matthew, and a daughter, Chloe.
But Gino wasn’t about sad stories, so let’s get to the real story. Which is to say, let’s forget about Clemens and Carmelo Anthony and Marvin Harrison, millionaire athletes who made headlines this week for all the wrong reasons. They don't know from iron workers. The only iron these three know about are the bars they could end up behind.
These days there is such a disconnect between the athlete and his fans. Who among us can relate to Alex Rodriguez, his $25-million-a-year salary and his soap-opera lifestyle? A-Rod is not our reality. Gino lived our reality. He was that nice guy who lives on any tree-lined street in any town on Long Island. We all have a neighbor like Gino.
I want to say simply that he was one of us. And perhaps that’s how we all knew him, as one of the guys. But saying that would be a disservice. He was special. The reason he was so special was that he never walked around acting like someone special. He was a professional athlete who reached the upper echelon of his sport, but he never had the ego, the arrogance or the distorted sense of entitlement.
If you happened to be in the Felt Forum on a night when 1,500 Levittowners were chanting “GEE-NO, GEE-NO,” you will understand what he meant to his fans and what his fans meant to him. The thought of those nights still sends a chill down my spine. After some of those fights Gino would ride home on the LIRR among us. And doesn’t that put into proper perspective just how absurd Carlos Delgado is for not answering a curtain call at Shea Stadium?
Gino gave his fans plenty of good nights. He boxed out of the Y.O.M recreation center and won the Golden Gloves in 1977. A pro career followed a few years later. Gino was a clever, slick boxer with fast hands. He was a good-looking kid and some experts said he reminded them of Willie Pep.
Gino hit his stride in the mid 1980s, putting together a 14-bout winning streak from 1984 to 1989. He was the first guy to beat prospect Norm “Psycho” Bates and he knocked out Mike Grow in the 12th round at the Felt Forum to win the WBC Continental Americas title. His career ended in 1990 after a knockout loss to former world champion Jose Sanabria. He finished with a record of 31-3 and 22 knockouts.
As cruel a sport as boxing can be – physically as well as emotionally – it never changed Gino’s disposition. He was funny and friendly and approachable.
Charles Barkley famously said that athletes aren’t role models. Well, Gino Gelormino was a role model. But it had very little do with him being an athlete and everything to do with him being a man. -- CASSIDY