Felix, Revisited

by Doug Greco

Based on new information just obtained by the Yellow Pig about Felix “Man-O-War” Bocchicchio, I am posting this short follow-up, “Felix, Revisited” to my last entry, “Nana’s Rumpus Room.” My Uncle Jeff, a Mt. Carmel PA physician practicing in the same office my grandfather did a few generations ago in my hometown, currently counts among his patients an old-timer in his 90’s who as a young man knew Felix Bocchicchio from the nearby town of Atlas, PA.  Due to both RICO and HIPPA laws, instead of using his family name, I will refer to this man as Mr. Nicotini.   

Evidently Bocchiccio and his friends would come to Atlas when things “got hot” in New York. Though it was a tiny town of 1,600, according to my uncle Atlas had been known for its bars. “Very pretty bars.  And dance bands.” Gene Krupa, the famous Jazz drummer who helped revolutionize the drum solo and modern drum set, evidently used to play in Atlas. 

Nicotini, who worked at one of the coal breakers in Atas, gives an alternate account of how Bocchicchio became the manager and promoter of the Heavyweight champion Jersey Joe Walcott.  In my last post I relayed the story from a “Camden People” article that Felix convinced a reluctant Walcott, a largely unknown boxer already in his 30’s, to continue boxing and take him on as his manager.  But in Nicotini’s version, it was Felix who was approached by a young African-American man in a Camden NJ butcher shop, the talented but unknown Joe Walcott, and not the other way around. 

“Hey I heard you’re a promoter,” said Walcott.  He then asked Felix if he would take him on as a fighter.  Bocchicchio said “no way”, but Walcott pushed back hard, and eventually Felix relented.  After managing him for a few years, Walcott knocked-out then-champion Ezzard Charles in 1951 to become the oldest man to win the heavyweight belt, at 37. 

Nicotini claims “whole busloads” of people from Atlas would go up to New York to see the Walcott fights. On occasion a young Nicotini and a group of his friends were talking with Felix after one of the bouts.  Felix, who was always full of spit and vinegar, love to banter.  He asked the names of everyone in the group.  “Hey, who are you?….and who are you?” and so forth.

“I’m Nicotini.”

“Nicotini?,” Bocchicchio lit up. “I know the Nicotini’s from Atlas!  I stole your grandmothers cow! That’s what got me started in this business!”  And he didn’t mean the boxing business.

Felix also looked after folks from the Coal Region who lived in New York, but also used them as a source of information.  On another occasion, a hometown kid had just moved to New York and found an apartment. Felix called him up and said “Hey grab some of your buddies and I’ll take you out for steaks.” 

While the young guys wolfed down their food, the punchy Felix pumped them for scoop:  “How’s so and so? Yeah, and how’s so and so?” And so on and so forth.

When the hometown boy said about one of the inquiries, “Oh, he died”, Felix shot back, “Thank God! That saved me a confession.  I was supposed to bump him off next week!.”  The fellas roared.