RINGSIDE
and among the first boxing scribes to embrace mixed martial arts. More importantly, he was a devoted family man of integrity who seemingly made friends with everyone he met. Always generous with his time, he mentored a new generation of combat sportswriters over the past two decades. Our journalistic journeys in boxing began around the same time, the mid-90s, and we became friends and business partners by the start of the 2000s thanks to his involvement with HouseOfBoxing.com and MaxBoxing. com – pioneering websites that would not have succeeded without him. The founding owners of MaxBoxing – me, Gary Randall, Steve Kim and Gerbasi – all brought something to our upstart online publication, but Tom was its heart. The fighters came first with Gerbasi, who wrote and edited with compassion and never allowed the seedy business side of boxing to jade him. He never let his volatile coworkers – which included our eccentric and bipolar star columnist, Michael Katz – shake his good nature, either. When we bickered and fought among ourselves, it was Tom who brokered peace and reminded us that we were lucky to do what we were doing. “Lighten up, fellas. This beats cleaning toilets.” Gerbasi, proud of his working-class roots, spoke from experience. I looked up to him and sought his advice on marriage, fatherhood and balancing career and family. And, yeah, he was the guy I’d vent to whenever Katz bruised my ego or Gary and Steve were driving me crazy. Tom had a way of turning my frustration to laughter. He used to joke that he was the “bartender.” “I’m the guy one of you calls to complain about the others.” He was so much more. He was our big brother. He was our rock. He was the best of us. Our hearts go out to his wife, Sonia, daughter Jordan and granddaughters Sheala and Olivia.
Always down to earth, Ricky Hatton embraced many nicknames.
I met him in Las Vegas in 2002 while covering Marco Antonio Barrera- Johnny Tapia at the MGM Grand. A member of Barrera’s team named Vince Caruso introduced us. Hatton was by himself and nobody recognized him at the lounge where we sat and chatted over a couple beers. Fast forward to 2009. I interviewed him in Los Angeles for a pre-fight promo on his showdown with Pacquiao. He was the exact same guy: down to earth, self- effacing and funny. Despite his considerable accomplishments, Hatton’s legacy is the connection he had with his fans, which could be seen for weeks following his death. Countless photos and selfies taken with Hatton, often after his fights, flooded social media. British boxing royalty and bona fide celebrities posted such images, as did Hatton’s former opponents, fellow Hall of Famers, and the media that covered him, but the
majority of the posts came from his fans on both sides of The Pond. It was the perfect eulogy for a true people’s champion. There has been a depressing amount of deaths in the boxing community this year, but Gerbasi’s passing was unfathomable to those who knew him. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I’m stunned and maybe in denial that our dear colleague is gone from a heart attack at 57. A proper tribute to Gerbasi’s life and career will be published in the December issue, and there is much to celebrate. Tom was an award- winning journalist and author, a pioneer in online boxing coverage, an early advocate for women’s boxing
20 RINGMAGAZINE.COM
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker