The Bosh Father

15/07/2025

Don Jordan: The Mob’s Champion Who Never Stood a Chance

In the late 1950s, under the smoggy glow of Los Angeles streetlights, a young welterweight named Don Jordan danced his way into the spotlight. He was fast, wiry, and impossibly charismatic — a kid from Watts with Mexican and African American roots, who fought his way from local gyms to world championship glory.

In 1958, Jordan pulled off a miracle by defeating Virgil Akins to win the world welterweight title. Newspapers hailed him as the new golden boy of West Coast boxing. But what fans didn’t see behind those triumphant photos was a sinister undercurrent: the cold, controlling hands of the mob.

The Manager Who Lost Control

Officially, Don Jordan’s manager was Don Nesseth, a local promoter who genuinely believed in his fighter. Nesseth guided Jordan into the biggest fights of his career. But after Jordan claimed the title, something dark crept in.

Mobsters saw a cash cow. Nesseth was soon approached — and then threatened — by the underworld’s most feared figure: Frankie Carbo, known as "the underworld commissioner of boxing."

Carbo delivered an unthinkable threat: if Nesseth didn’t sign over control of Jordan’s contract, Carbo would rip his eyes out. Terrified, Nesseth surrendered.

The Shadow Owners: Palermo and Leonard

Behind Carbo stood Blinky Palermo, a Philadelphia mobster and silent boxing boss. Palermo specialized in controlling fighters through "paper ownership" — a trick where managers remained on paper, but the real power (and money) belonged to him.

Another figure lurking in the shadows was Jackie Leonard, a New York manager and mob fixer. Though Leonard was never Jordan’s official "promoting manager," he became a silent partner in Jordan’s contract after Nesseth caved.

Leonard operated quietly, helping arrange fights and skim earnings without ever stepping into the official spotlight. He was the mob’s polite front man — overshadowed by Carbo’s violence and Palermo’s heavy hand but equally guilty of bleeding fighters dry.

The Mob’s Downfall

As Jordan fought and lost his title to Benny "Kid" Paret in 1960, the walls were already closing in on the mob’s boxing empire. The Kefauver Senate hearings in 1960–61 finally shone a light on boxing’s darkest corners.

Nesseth testified, revealing Carbo’s threats and how he was forced to hand over Jordan’s career. It stunned the public: champions were not free warriors; they were puppets controlled by gangsters.

Carbo and Palermo were soon convicted of conspiracy and extortion. Carbo was sentenced to 25 years in Alcatraz; Palermo got 15 years.

Jackie Leonard, however, escaped without jail time. He was exposed, disgraced, and effectively vanished from the sport — but he survived, untouched by the legal hammer that crushed his partners.

Don Jordan’s Tragic Spiral

As the mob collapsed, Jordan’s career fell apart. He struggled with alcohol, was arrested multiple times, and lived in poverty.

In 1996, he was viciously beaten during a street robbery in Los Angeles. He never recovered from his injuries and died in 1997 at age 63 — largely forgotten by the sport he once lit up.

Legacy

Today, Don Jordan’s story stands as a haunting symbol of how deeply the mob ruled boxing. A young champion forced to give up his freedom at the peak of his career.
A manager who nearly lost his life to protect him.
A web of shadow owners — Carbo, Palermo, and Leonard — who turned the sweet science into a cash pipeline.
When we watch old black-and-white footage of Jordan’s title fights, it’s easy to admire his silky footwork and brave heart. But behind every punch is a story of control, fear, and betrayal — a true American tragedy hiding behind a championship belt.

08/07/2025

Poleaxed by the Mafia

Polish gangster Andrzej Kolikowski, aka “Pershing” — enforcer, killer, party animal.

November 1999, Atlantic City. Polish boxer Andrzej Gołota faces Michael Grant. In the crowd: a few rows up and to the right, a man in a black suit and lanyard jumps up, roaring with every Polish punch. It’s none other than Andrzej “Pershing” Kolikowski, Poland’s top crime boss. He was hiding from the bloodbath brewing back home. Just weeks after the fight, he would be dead.

Pershing was the face of the Pruszków Mafia, Poland’s biggest crime syndicate after communism collapsed. They built an empire on drug trafficking, arms smuggling, car theft, extortion, and protection rackets. In the ’90s, they controlled Warsaw — and soon, the whole country.

Millions flowed through their hands: drug money, slot-machine cash, bribes. They bought pardons from politicians, lived in mansions, and turned Warsaw into a war zone. Shootouts, bombings, and bodies left in the streets became routine.

After a prison stint, Pershing broke away to build his own empire, focusing on Poland’s booming slot-machine racket. With thousands of machines across the country, he raked in millions in protection money. But his old allies in Pruszków wanted a cut — and they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

A shaky truce held through most of 1999. Then tempers flared, bullets flew, and bodies started dropping as open warfare erupted. A psychic warned Pershing that death would find him in Warsaw, so in November 1999 he fled to Atlantic City to watch Gołota fight and wait for things to cool down.

There, he bet $70,000 on Gołota to win. But the Polish fighter quit in round 10, famously saying “No!” Pershing lost his bet — and his last ounce of luck.

December 5, 1999. A ski resort parking lot. Pershing stood by his silver Mercedes. Two gunmen stepped out of the winter dusk, opened fire, and left him bleeding in the snow.

The Pruszków Mafia had the final word.

07/07/2025

Primo Carnera: The Gentle Giant, the Mob’s Pawn, and the Night the Illusion Shattered.

Picture this: Madison Square Garden Bowl, summer night in 1934. The crowd is roaring, sweat and cigar smoke hang heavy in the air. In the ring stands a giant — 6’6”, 260 pounds — so big he was nicknamed The Ambling Alp. His name? Primo Carnera.

To the public, he was a real-life Goliath, a gentle Italian mountain who bulldozed everyone in his path. But behind that mountain of muscle lurked something darker than any opponent: the American mob.

A Giant With a Shadow:
Primo Carnera was born in Sequals, Italy, in 1906. A shy, sweet boy who grew into a colossus, he seemed destined for the circus — and that’s exactly where he first went. He travelled Europe as a sideshow attraction before promoters realized his size could sell tickets in the boxing ring.

When Carnera arrived in the U.S., the headlines wrote themselves: The Monster from the Alps!, The Human Avalanche! Crowds paid in droves to see this giant squash his opponents. But they didn’t know the matches were orchestrated from behind closed doors.

Mob Money and Staged Knockouts:
Carnera’s managers, led by the likes of mobsters Owney Madden and Blinky Palermo, knew a goldmine when they saw it. They bought up fights like you’d buy rounds at a dive bar: generously and often.

Carnera’s early opponents — men like Big Boy Peterson, King Levinsky, and Elzear Rioux — often went down quickly, sometimes almost theatrically. Rumors spread that envelopes of cash were handed to managers, and fighters were told to "stay down, or else."

Even the heavyweight championship wasn’t safe. In 1933, Carnera faced Jack Sharkey, a tough, cagey veteran. Sharkey, strangely lethargic, collapsed in round six from a blow that looked less like a hammer and more like a nudge. Carnera was declared the heavyweight champion of the world. The papers cheered; the mob cashed in.

The Max Baer Mauling: No Place to Hide:
A year later, the mob’s carefully stacked house of cards came crashing down. Enter Max Baer, the wild, hard-punching "Clown Prince of Boxing." Baer was no man to intimidate, no fighter for sale. He saw Carnera not as a monster, but as a slow, overgrown target.

On June 14, 1934, before a massive crowd at the Garden Bowl,
Max Baer came out swinging. He knocked Carnera down once. Then again. And again. By the 11th round, Carnera had kissed the canvas eleven times, struggling to get up each time like a giant trying to climb out of quicksand.

The referee finally stopped the punishment. The crowd roared, the press scribbled furiously — the "invincible" Carnera had been brutally exposed.

The Puppet’s Fall:
After the Baer beating, Carnera’s aura shattered. Without the mob’s fixes, he struggled to win. The mafia, always pragmatic, lost interest. They tossed Carnera aside like a used betting slip.

Carnera tried to rebuild, even dabbling in professional wrestling and movies. But he was never the same. He returned to Italy and lived out his life in relative peace, beloved in his hometown but forever haunted by how he was used by the mob.

A Gentle Giant in a Cruel Game:
Primo Carnera wasn’t a villain. He was a man who trusted too easily, believed in honour, and loved his mother more than money. But boxing in the 1930s wasn’t just a sport — it was a bloody stage for mobster puppet masters.

Carnera became the perfect tragic figure: a gentle soul manipulated into a monster role. And on that fateful night against Max Baer, the truth of the mob’s manipulations was laid bare under the hot lights, in front of the whole world.

"From fixed fights to final falls — Primo Carnera’s story is a towering reminder that in boxing, the hardest punches often come from outside the ring."

05/07/2025

Sonny Liston vs. Ali II: The Mob’s Invisible Hand?

May 25, 1965. Lewiston, Maine. In less than two minutes, Sonny Liston — the most feared heavyweight alive — lay sprawled on the canvas after Muhammad Ali’s so-called "phantom punch." But behind that fall may have been something even more powerful than Ali’s right hand: the mob.

Liston had long been surrounded by organized crime figures. His managers and backers were mob-connected, and he carried debts and obligations that few fighters truly understood.

In the lead-up to the rematch, rumours swirled that certain underworld bosses had heavy bets on an early Ali knockout. With Ali’s star on the rise and the mob’s money on the line, some believe Liston was "instructed" to go down. The fight itself only deepened suspicions — a punch so quick most ringside reporters missed it, a chaotic non-count by the referee, and a seemingly resigned Liston not even trying to get up quickly.

The result? A first-round knockout victory for Ali, big paydays for certain gamblers, and a permanent stain on Liston’s reputation.

Whether Liston dove willingly, felt forced, or simply crumbled under pressure remains one of boxing’s great mysteries. But that night in Lewiston, many believe it wasn’t just a fighter who fell — it was a man under the silent command of the mob.

05/07/2025

"In Their Words"
Here’s a segment from Danny Woollard with Micky Gluckstead’s book We Dared, talking about Freddie Bosh. The pub they refer to was the Lighterman in Barking, Essex, on the Thames view estate — or "the view," as we used to call it back then. That carpark saw a lot of action.

The "boy" mentioned is referred to out of respect for his well-known family, he was in his late twenties early thirties, Freddy was much older. Many faces from all over used to pass through that pub. One such name was Del Croxson — a name that needs no introduction to those in the know.

Del was a tough fighter, trained by Fred. One evening, he strolled into the pub wearing big black-framed glasses. He joked, “They make me look softer, deliberately.” The funny part? Those glasses didn’t even have any lenses in them.

It’s the perfect reminder never to judge a book by its cover… unless, of course, it’s We Dared. In that case, what you see is exactly what you get — a true knockout statemen about Frederick Botham.

03/07/2025

Boxing connections part one: Respectfully Frederick Botham and Roy Shaws story goes back years in fact way back to their early years Monteagle ABC. Fred second in from the front (right) and Roy Second in from the (right) behind? Fred being the younger of the two. Freddie's first ever boxing match of many started back in 1950 never being defeated as an amateur on home soil.
later Fred would help corner for Roy Shaws fight against Lew (wild thing) Yates at the Ilford Palais 1981.

The Enquirer 2.0

03/07/2025

The Untouchable Champion: Did Rocky Marciano Dance in the Criminal rings?

He was the people's hero — an undefeated heavyweight, the only champion to retire without a single loss. Rocky Marciano embodied the American dream: a tough kid from Brockton who rose from factory floors and street scraps to global fame. But behind the legend of “The Rock,” whispers echo: Did Marciano truly stay clean, or did he glide through a maze of shadows he claimed to avoid?

The Perfect Record — Too Perfect?

Marciano retired 49-0, a record still idolized today. He never took a dive, never ducked an opponent. In an era where boxing was almost completely under mob control, this spotless run seemed nearly superhuman. But some argue his path to immortality was carefully — even quietly — cleared.

Al Weill: The Mastermind in the Shadows

Al Weill, Marciano’s manager, was fiercely protective and notorious for his controlling ways. Fighters and insiders claim Weill had connections to the dark corridors of boxing, where Frankie Carbo — the shadowy “Godfather of Boxing” — pulled the strings.

Carbo controlled who got title shots, who vanished into obscurity, and who got paid off to lose. While Marciano wasn’t owned by Carbo, Weill operated in that underworld web. Did Weill negotiate deals in smoky backrooms to keep Rocky’s record spotless? No one can say for sure — but in boxing, nothing happens by accident.

One-Ear and the Chicago Connection

Frank “One-Ear” Fratto (also known as Louis Fratto) the Chicago Outfit enforcer, didn't officially work in boxing promotions, but his gambling and union rackets crossed paths with fighters traveling through Chicago. Rumours swirl that Fratto offered “protection” or arranged hospitality for big-name fighters like Rocky.

Though Fratto was seen at events with Marciano, there is no proof of fixings or deals. But in a sport run by backroom handshakes, even casual alliances make the lines blur.

London Nights: The Kray Twins’ Shadow

In 1965, Marciano toured London, appearing on TV and at dinner events. Enter the Kray twins — Britain’s most notorious gangsters, who loved rubbing shoulders with stars. Rocky met the Krays, posed for photos, and shared drinks, was that it?

Whether fact or gangster folklore, the image of Rocky, the cleanest fighter in history, sharing a stage with London’s deadliest criminals remains tantalizing.

The Final Twist: A Fatal Flight

In 1969, Marciano boarded a small plane headed for Des Moines. Among the passengers was Frank Fratto Jr., son of One-Ear himself. The plane crashed, killing everyone aboard — an eerie, tragic closing of a circle that connected Rocky, the Outfit, and the old ghosts of boxing’s dark past.

Dance with the Devil?

Did Marciano truly stay untouched in a sport ruled by fixers and killers? Did he unknowingly (or knowingly) benefit from dark alliances, silent agreements, or mob-fueled matchmaking? Or was he the rarest of fighters — the one man who stepped into the ring and left with his soul unscathed?

Perhaps we’ll never know. But one thing is certain: Rocky Marciano danced in the ring like no man before him. Whether he danced with the devil behind the scenes remains boxing’s greatest, most seductive mystery.

“In a world of gloves and guns, cash and contracts, Marciano’s legend still stands undefeated. But in the shadows, the whispers continue…”

29/06/2025

When the Mob Ran the Ring: Frankie Carbo and Boxing’s Darkest Days:

No sport has courted as much scandal and public outrage as boxing. From dives and fixed fights to outrageous decisions and shady backroom deals with crooked promoters, the fight game has always been fertile ground for double-dealing and corruption. And no figure embodies that dark chapter more than mobster Frankie Carbo.

Who Was Frankie Carbo?

Born Paolo Giovanni Carbo, Frankie Carbo started as a hitman for Murder, Inc., the infamous enforcement arm of the American Mafia in the 1930s and 1940s. After stints in prison, Carbo saw that there was more money—and less personal risk—in fixing fights than pulling triggers. He pivoted from the streets to the boxing ring, becoming the sport’s most feared invisible hand.

The Covert Commission:

In the late 1940s and 1950s, Carbo and his partner Blinky Palermo essentially created a shadow governance system for boxing known informally as “the covert commission.” While there were official state boxing commissions and sanctioning bodies, Carbo’s underworld network truly decided who fought whom, who got title shots, and who stayed on the side-lines.

Through their control of the International Boxing Club (IBC), Carbo and his associates monopolized major arenas like Madison Square Garden and secured lucrative television contracts. Fighters were forced into secret contracts, pressured to give up cuts of their earnings, and sometimes threatened into accepting mob-linked managers or promoters. If you didn’t play ball, your career stalled—or worse.

Fixing Fights the Mob Way:

Contrary to Hollywood dramatizations, not every fix involved an obvious dive. The more subtle—and more common—approaches included carefully choosing opponents to protect rising stars, leaning on referees and judges to influence close decisions, and persuading fighters to carry an opponent or look weaker than they really were. These tactics allowed the mob to protect investments, control betting outcomes, and keep the illusion of competition alive.

The Fall of Carbo:

By 1960, Carbo and Palermo’s reign began to unravel. Senate investigations, including the famous Kefauver hearings, exposed their stranglehold on boxing. In 1961, Carbo was convicted of extortion and conspiracy in connection with controlling the contract of welterweight champion Don Jordan. He was sentenced to 25 years in prison, where he died in 1976.

22/06/2025

Micheal Kelly bouncer from Hollywoods talks about the night Gaffer (friend to Carlton leach) felt the full force from Frederick Botham known to us as “Freddie Bosh”

https://youtu.be/zv-WQN8p7v8?si=BEkP6C_eUzKc5d8Y

In tonights episode Michael kelly talks Carlton Leaches mate Gaffer being battered by legendary hardman Freddie Bosh Botham, Roy Shaws best mate. ...

22/06/2025

“A Kray story” like you’ve never heard before..coming soon.

22/06/2025

We always save the best for last... and that is exactly who Frederick Botham was, the best of the bunch. A proper hard gentleman, boxer, bouncer and finally a publican in 1992, and feared no one. Never bullied anyone, or threw his weight around unless you deserved it. Here is a well narrated vid by the The Enquirer 2.0 talking about Freddie "Bosh" one of many a fight he had.
And yes he is a legend to me and many who knew him. RIP Fred x

Today we look at the book 'Gaffer' by John Rollinson and examine an extract where he is battered in a bloody brawl and left in a bad way in the hospital ...