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Cooney, Codey battle for New Jersey kids | Di Ionno

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Former heavyweight contender to brawl with ex-governor in charity bout Watch video

Gerry Cooney is 59, but still acts like the big playful puppy who doesn't know its own strength.

What the 6-foot-6, 245-pound giant thinks are gentle punches -- if there is such a thing -- will make a normal man teeter like a buoy in rough seas.

This is exactly what was happening to former Gov. Richard Codey the other day as Cooney swatted him around the ring at Brawl House in Mountainside, during a training session for their upcoming charity fight.

"Take it easy, willya, I only got two eyes," Codey said as Cooney pawed jabs to his face.

"Not there, I got a young wife," Codey said after a low gut shot.

"C'mon," said Cooney. "These are 24-ounce gloves.  They're like pillows."

"Yeah, pillows with rocks in them," Codey shot back.

If this was a fight of one-liners, Codey could have won a split decision. But it wasn't.

By the time the sparring was over, Codey was wondering if he had rocks in his head for agreeing to get in the ring with Cooney, once the most feared puncher in boxing.

Cooney-Codey will be the main event on the charity fight card on June 18 at the W Hotel in Hoboken. Cooney puts together the show -- which features real fights, too - to benefit New Jersey's Youth Consultation Service (YCS).

"I don't mind getting my brains scrambled for a good cause," said Codey who, in addition to never being in the ring, is 10 years older, seven inches shorter and 48 pounds lighter than Cooney.

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Codey is so inexperienced with boxing, that when Cooney told him he had wraps for him, Codey joked, "What kind of meat?"

But this would be no picnic. Cooney patiently wound the hand wraps around Codey's wrist and fist before the sparring that left the state senator's face red and a little puffy.

After about six minutes, Cooney said, "Okay, take a break."

"Where's the girl with the round card?" Codey asked. "Or at least a nurse."

After a minute rest and a drink of water, Cooney said, "Okay, Round 2."

"Round 2! That was like three rounds already!" Codey said, with sweat pouring off his face.

For Round 2, Cooney put headgear on Codey.  

"I don't want to ruin your good looks," Cooney said.

A few jabs to the forehead later, Codey said, "Easy, the frontal lobe is where the memory is," then muttered something about not needing a corner man, but "a neurologist."

A couple of more swats and Cooney, with an ever present smile on his face, which could be viewed as either genial or sadistic, started mimicking a semiconscious fighter as Codey turned his back on him and covered up.

"Where am I? Where am I? Is that you, ma?"

"Norcross and Christie didn't get me down, neither will you," said Codey, referring to his political battle scars in warring with South Jersey Democrat boss George Norcross and Gov. Chris Christie.

All this fun - for Cooney, at least - will continue for the next few weeks as Cooney tries to get Codey ready for fight night.

The fight card will also feature 10 sanctioned amateur bouts. Tickets are $100 for ringside and $50 for general admission. (For more information call (201) 678-1312 or go to www.ycs.org)

YCS helps thousands of kids with a variety of issues. For autistic kids, YCS has a counseling center, a one-on-one home visit program and residential houses. It runs four schools for kids with other behavioral problems, educating them from kindergarten through high school.

For younger children, YCS has a preschool in East Orange, run by a team of doctors and child psychologists.

It also has nearly 30 residential homes throughout the state, for children and young adults.

"Gerry came to one of our Paterson homes about a decade ago to talk to the kids and never left," said Robin Peck, the director of development for YCS.

Peck said Cooney visits the home about two times a week just to talk to the kids.

"He's been a consistent, committed role model, which is what these kids so desperately need," she said. "These kids led traumatic and chaotic lives and he comes and listens to their stories and tells them his. He understands them."

Cooney said talking to kids "help me rid myself of the shadows within me. I get a lot out of it, too."

Cooney's story is well-documented. His father pushed him beyond the point of abuse.

"No matter what I did, I heard every day I was no good," he said.

His rise up the heavyweight rankings in his early 20s brought him a celebrity he wasn't prepared for.

After he knocked out Ken Norton - a man who had beaten Muhammad Ali - in 54 seconds, he got a title fight with Larry Holmes in 1983.

He lost, and got lost, mostly in alcohol.

"I've been sober now 28 years," he said. "I've got the greatest life in the world."

Codey's role in the night will also benefit The Codey Fund for Mental Health. Codey has always been a strong advocate for the mentally ill, making surprise visits to state hospitals to see how patients were being treated.

His advocacy for the mentally ill led to his most public brawl, with radio guy Craig Carton in 2005.

After Codey's wife, Mary Jo, spoke openly about her post-partum depression, Carton did an insulting rant on the subject.

"When I went down there (to New Jersey 101.5) to do my weekly 'Ask the Governor' show," Codey said. "I saw him, and one thing led to another. I said, 'If I wasn't governor, I'd take you out. The state troopers got between us."

But they won't be with him on fight night. Chuck Wepner will be.

"He's going to be my corner man," Codey said. "Him, and a doctor."

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Mark Di Ionno may be reached at mdiionno@starledger.com. Follow The Star-Ledger on Twitter @StarLedger and find us on Facebook.


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