SMOKIN’ BERT
By Gerard J. St. John
A short article in the sports section of today’s Philadelphia Inquirer notes the passing of “onetime heavyweight contender ‘Smokin’ Bert Cooper.” Smokin’ Bert was at the heart of one of the cases I handled back in the early 1990s. He had been one of the fighters featured on a card that was televised nationwide from Biloxi, Mississippi. Not long after the fight, Bert’s manager brought suit against Top Rank, the promoter of the Biloxi boxing event, and Bob Arum, the owner of Top Rank. Bert signed on for the fight on his own. Still, the manager claimed that he was entitled to receive a manager’s fee for the fight regardless of the fact that he had nothing to do with it. The amount of the manager’s fee was minimal. What the manager really wanted was an agreement by Top Rank that two of the manager’s current fighters would be signed for one of Top Rank’s boxing promotions within the next twelve months.
Bob Arum was fast becoming a legend in boxing circles. In 1956, he graduated from Harvard Law School, cum laude, then he worked for the Department of Justice, then for a major New York City law firm and then he practiced law from his own law office before venturing into the promotion of professional boxing events and the management of fighters who eked out their livelihood in that milieu. It is misleading to talk about Arum’s fighters as eking out a living. Some of them, for example Oscar De La Hoya, were among the wealthiest athletes in the world. Arum’s headquarters were in Las Vegas. By the 1990s, Bob Arum was among the most successful of boxing promoters – certainly, the only one with a degree from Harvard Law School. He created Top Rank as an organization to carry out boxing promotions, such as the televised fights from casinos on the Gulf Coast.
Top Rank employed full-time matchmakers who made themselves familiar with fighters throughout the country, both for the purpose of lining up prospective matches and for evaluating upcoming talent. They operated much the way baseball scouts evaluate players in the minor leagues. Meanwhile, those talented prospects could not help but see that having Top Rank for a manager would give them instant entrée to television exposure and immediate credibility. Bob Arum was widely respected. In 1999, he was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame.
After reading the complaint of Bert Cooper’s manager and the file that was sent to me by Top rank, I wondered whether it would be necessary for Top Rank and Arum to file a claim against Bert Cooper for his part in the sequence of events. I hoped not. I did not know Smokin’ Bert, but I was fairly sure that a Philadelphia jury would be sympathetic to the underdog fighter. I needed to find out something about Bert Cooper and how he was regarded by the boxing community. But where could I get that kind of information? Jim Binns came to mind. Jim is a lawyer. He was an amateur boxer in college. In his practice of law, he has taken great pains to identify himself with the Philadelphia boxing community, and to cast himself as part of the “lace curtain” Irish. Jim was appointed Boxing Commissioner of Pennsylvania, and was later inducted into the Pennsylvania Boxing Hall of Fame. He even had small parts in two of the “Rocky” movies. Surely, Jim Binns would know something about Smokin’ Bert.
It was late in the afternoon when I called Jim Binns. I told him about my representation and my need for some background on Bert Cooper. Jim did know Smokin’ Bert. However, he did not answer the question that I asked. Jim Binns was more interested in my clients, or maybe why they were not his clients. “You represent Bob Arum?” “How did that happen?” “How did you get to represent Top Rank?” Eventually, Jim confirmed that Bert Cooper was a decent fighter and a reliable person. It was the information that I was looking for. I never did tell Jim that our representation of Arum and Top Rank came about because one of my law partners happened to be seated next to Top Rank’s administrative attorney on a flight from Las Vegas to Newark. Two lawyers seated next to each other; one was a Philadelphia lawyer and the other needed a lawyer in Philadelphia.
When the case was listed for trial, Top Rank sent two of its matchmakers to Philadelphia to testify on behalf of the defense. One of the proposed witnesses was in charge of all of Top Rank’s boxing events east of the Mississippi. He arrived in Philadelphia about a week before the trial. He looked like a fight promoter, wide-bodied with a long pony tail dangling from the back of his head. He immediately rented a limousine and drove to Atlantic City to check on the boardwalk casino boxing program. The second potential witness came to Philadelphia the day before the trial. He was the senior of the two, responsible for all the boxing programs west of the Mississippi. He looked and spoke like a corporate executive. It was clear to me that this west coast matchmaker had full authority to make decisions for Top Rank.
It was Friday. Anyone familiar with the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas knows that no trial was going to start until Monday at the earliest. I saw to it that my matchmaker witnesses were well aware of that reality. We sat through the entire morning in the waiting area adjacent to the courtrooms in the Wanamaker Building. On occasion, the west coast matchmaker would wander over to Cooper’s manager and chat about the status of the case. As we approached the noon hour, I suspected that a settlement might be reached – but it was not. It was nearly 3:00 O’clock when the west coast guy told me that he had just reached a settlement with Bert’s manager, and asked if I could put it into effect immediately. The assignment judge was delighted by the settlement, and was more than happy to close out the case.
By this time, I was convinced that the timing of the settlement was dictated by the airline schedule back to Las Vegas. Think again! The west coast matchmaker wanted to know where he could pick up some Taylor pork roll to take home with him. This was in the days before amazon.com, and it was almost impossible to find Taylor pork roll anywhere west of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I fully understood the nostalgia for pork roll. We made a quick call to Taylor’s plant on Delaware Avenue and ordered two six-pound lengths of pork roll to be picked up on the way to the airport. The pony-tailed matchmaker volunteered his limousine for that short drive.
Meanwhile, the article in the Philadelphia Inquirer says that Smokin’ Bert Cooper is best remembered for having absorbed punishment from a string of heavyweight champions, including Riddick Bowe, George Foreman, Evander Holyfield, Ray Mercer and Michael Moorer. Now they can add pancreatic cancer to that list. Ouch!
