Hard Times: The Extraordinary Life and Times of Nathan "The King Cobra" Washington

By M. Anthony Phillips

When Gladiator Magazine editor and chief, Bob Goldstein needs a big story to save his company, he enlists the services of new writer Max Newcomb to find the Holy Grail of boxing- finding the heavyweight champion, who disappeared 50 years ago, after it was discovered that he was an escapee from a Georgia chai

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Vine Press
• Release date: Mar 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781954941175

Book preview

Contents

Part One: Search for the Champ

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Part Two: Camp 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Part Three: World War 2

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Part Four: A New Beginning

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Chapter 94

Part Five: Redemption Song

Chapter 95

Chapter 96

Chapter 97

Chapter 98

Chapter 99

Chapter 100

Chapter 101

Chapter 102

Chapter 103

Chapter 104

Chapter 105

Chapter 106

Chapter 107

Chapter 108

Chapter 109

Chapter 110

Chapter 111

Chapter 112

Chapter 113

Chapter 114

Upcoming novels by M. Anthony Phillips

Isabella/Protector of the Last Dragon Sam Phillips/The Last P.I.

Afros and Dragons/The Brotherhood Isabella/Supernatural

Sam Phillips/The Big Gun

Afros and Dragons/Day of the Dragoons

Part One: Search for the Champ

Chapter 1

It was Bob Goldstein who started the campaign. Bob is the editor and chief of Gladiator Magazine, a boxing magazine that is facing extinction or a takeover by a rival company. Bob is a short man who indulges heavily in the accesses of life, including wine, women and expensive cigars. Bob took over the magazine after the death of his father Ben, who started it. Bob stares out the window of his Hollywood office. Its 2003, two years after 9-11 and the magazine is not bringing in the sales it once did. Although it has survived several takeover attempts, Gladiator needs new life pumped into it and Bob thinks he has the idea.

Max Newcomb is summoned to the big man’s office. A young staff writer trying to make a name for himself, Max patterns himself after Bob Costas. Fresh out of school at USC, Max is from a upper middle class family from Thousand Oaks, California who are mostly in the medical field. He sits in a little chair with pen and paper in hand while Bob stares out the window. Waiting anxiously, Max looks at all the pictures and plaques on the wall. Bob suddenly turns around to acknowledge young Max’s existence. Young max, there are six million people in Los Angeles, with six million stories, Bob said while puffing out smoke rings. We need a big one.

Actually sir, it’s closer to nine million people, with nine million stories, Max said.

Don’t be a wise ass, son, Bob fired back. Bob grabs the picture of his father off his desk and stares at it. You know…my father built this magazine. The fight game was all he knew—all he wanted to know. He even fought in his day. He and Max Baer where the best Jewish fighters in their day, said Bob.

Lots of Jewish fighters back then. Well that was then—now we’re faced with a cold reality. Max looks up from writing to see Bob pacing. What’s that sir? Max asked. Bob plunks down the figures of the magazine’s revenue. We’ve been in the red for a couple of years now. If we don’t find a major story for our next issue, we might have to….

No way, sir! Max intercedes. Bob rushes over to close the door. Max, I need a real go-getter, said Bob. Someone who could pump some life back into this old place. Bob looks out of his clear window into the office. You see old man Jenkins out there? Bob asked. Max leaves his chair and looks out at the floor. He came here at the same time as my old man, said Bob.

Jenkins is at his desk sleeping with his mouth open. Two writers are trying to throw peanuts in it. I see what you mean, sir, Max said. Bob puts his hand on Max’s shoulder. I’ve been watching you, Max. You seem to have that eye of the tiger. Max’s shoulders seem to suddenly grow ten feet tall. His boss recognizing his abilities is what he wanted. Thank you, sir, Max said with a big smile. The great journalists and sportswriters were all go-getters. Times have changed so much that stories are being written off what tabloid organizations are reporting, Bob said with frustration. Tabloid journalism has taken over, Max. Legitimate writers are losing the battle.

Can I give you my opinion, sir? Max asked.

Hell, jump right in, son, we’re all family here, Bob said.

Boxing is dying out, warned Max. There are no great heavyweights out there and the great fights are not being made like the ones in the past. And then there’s this new sport called Mixed Martial Arts that gathering momentum. It might just take over boxing. Bob pours himself a glass of scotch. He offers a glass to Max, he refuses. I pride myself on keeping my ear to the grindstone, said Bob. That is why I’ve got something that will shake things up a bit. Bob picks up a framed picture of a fighter from long ago, that’s autographed to Bob’s father Ben. This is why I’ve brought you here, Max, said Bob. I’ve got something that’s going to shake things up a bit. I’ve got the BIG ONE, Max! Bob gulps down his drink. Max looks at the picture of the fighter but doesn’t recognize him. Max, next month will be the 50th anniversary of one of the best fights of the 20th century, said Bob, while putting one leg on top of his desk.

Who, Ray Robinson and Jake LaMotta? Max asked curiously.

Better, said Bob.

Liston and Clay? Bob chews down on his fat cigar and waves his hand. Much better! Bob exhorts. The fight between Jack Gravano and this man. Nathan The King Cobra Washington, Bob said, as he taps the picture. Max shrugs his shoulders while Bob gets excited. Talk about a fight! Bob said.

What makes that fight so special? Max asked.

The elements, son, said Bob. It had ’em all. You see, the fight took place in nineteen fifty two at Madison Square Garden.

Corruption was rampant in boxing. What was also unique is that Gravano was a white heavyweight champion. The people loved him, especially in New York, said Bob. Bob turns on his flat screen TV. A rare video of the fight comes on. Max sits up in his chair. Washington was a war hero and undefeated in thirty fights, Bob said, as he bobs and weaves watching the fight. Gravano wouldn’t give Washington a shot at the title. The press ate it up!

Max starts to show interest. Bob turns up the volume. It looks like a sold out fight, said Max.

Because there was mass interest, Max. White versus Black, war hero against Italian American. My father said there was nothing like it." Bob relishes in showing Max a piece of history.

What happened to make the fight? Max asked. Gravano, who was controlled by the mob, finally relented after pressure from the media and the public, Bob said. Fifteen rounds for the heavyweight championship. All the hype and promoting became so over the top, that by the time those men got into the ring, they hated each other. To make a long story short, after a fierce battle, Washington knocked Gravano out in the 15th round.

Was it a close fight? asked Max.

The score card had it eight rounds to six, Gravano. Washington needed that knockout. My father said the card should have been the other way around in his opinion, said Bob.

Great, so I’ll do a cover story on the anniversary of the fight and whatever happened to the men….

You’re in the ballpark, kid, Bob said as he turns off the TV. That’s not the real story. You see, after Washington won the belt, he defended the title two times successfully. Bob pulls out an old newspaper. The headline reads; HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION GOES ON THE LAM. Washington disappeared, Max, said Bob. An article came out in the paper on the eve of his next fight that said Washington may have been an escapee from a Georgia chain gang. Max carefully reads the newspaper. This is incredible stuff!

My father kept this newspaper all these years, said Bob. He and Washington became good friends.

Washington hasn’t been seen for nearly fifty years, Bob added. Max now pours a glass of scotch and gulps it down. Fifty years! an astounded Max said. I wondered what could have happened to him? he asked.

This is what I need you to find out, kid, Bob said with a grin that said trust me before they send you on a suicide mission. I want you to go and find out what happened to Nathan Washington and get this office a Pulitzer, said Bob. Max suddenly realizes the enormous responsibility that has been placed in his lap. Uhh, Mr. Goldstein, I was looking to maybe doing some simple stories first, you know…building up my resume.

Nonsense, Max, said Bob. You’re the right man for the job. You’ll have the full backing of the magazine. Bob sticks a cigar in Max’s mouth and lights it. Max takes a puff and coughs. But a man who’s eluded the public for fifty years obviously wouldn’t want the media scrutiny, sir, said Max, choking back fumes. He might me dead…sir. Bob puts out his cigar. He walks over to the coffee machine that he never uses and looks inside the cup, somehow thinking there was coffee inside. Why isn’t there any coffee in here when I need it! Bob snorts. He opens the door to his office of noisy phones and computers.

COFFEE! He slams the door behind him. Washington’s not dead, Max, Bob continued. Max is surprised. Our investigative team has tracked down the grandson of Mr. Washington. His name is Elijah. He attends UCLA and he says Mr. Washington lives in a small home in Inglewood.

Fresh coffee arrives by the way of Bob’s sexy secretary Lisa Walters. A bubbly vixen of a woman, Lisa works for a temp agency and is frequently hired but not for her typing skills. Lisa sashays into Bob’s office and time literary stops. Max casually takes off his rimmed glasses and wipes them off. Bob refuses to talk business when Lisa’s in the room. I made the coffee just the way you like it, Mr. Goldstein, she said with a wink. Bob, normally not a coffee drinker, acts like it’s black gold. Hot and sweet?!

Burn your tongue off hot, said Lisa. Max laughs to himself noticing Bob make a fool of himself. Would you like some, Max? Lisa asked. Max jumps out of his chair like he was projected from a cockpit. Don’t mind if I do, he said, like a ten year old school boy. As Lisa pours Max a cup of coffee, Max can’t help but to look at Lisa’s ample busom. Is there anything else I can get for you gentlemen? Lisa asked with loaded connotations.

Uhh, that’ll be all, Lisa, said Bob, biting his tongue. Lisa leaves with the two men gawking at every inch of her movement. I drink coffee everyday now, Bob said with a sly grin.

So, Inglewood, I don’t know it very well, said Max.

I thought you might say that, said Bob. Julius Williams will go with you. He’s from that area. You leave tomorrow morning. Bob and Max come together and shake hands. Thank you for believing in me and giving me this opportunity, Mr. Goldstein, said Max. I won’t let you down.

We’re counting on you, Max, said Bob. Anything you need you have my support.

Chapter 2

It’s a sunny and clear day in Los Angeles and Max sits on the passenger side of a vehicle driven by Julius Williams, a permanent part time story finder for the magazine. It was Julius who found Elijah. Julius is a barrel chest of a young black man who looks like he should a tight end for the Oakland Raiders. The two men sit in another typical 405 traffic jam. Their destination is Inglewood to meet up with Elijah. Williams in his youth was a gang member from Inglewood who got out of the life before the streets took him. It’s been a long time since he’s been back. He’s a bit apprehensive. He looks around as they finally make it to Inglewood. They catch stares from the unemployed, the corner store beggars and hustlers. The look in the faces of the two men, tell a different tale. Max’s is a look of fear and misunderstanding and Julius has a look of disdain and loathing. Julius catches a glimpse of Max’s fear. Don’t worry, most of Inglewood is pretty cool, said Julius.

Then why were you shaking your head? Max asked.

I grew up around here, man, Julius said proudly. Some of the same people are standing on that corner since I was a teenager. Max casually but noticeably rolls up his window. Why were you so lucky? asked Max. Julius gives Max a cold stare. What, you think all black people stand on the corner selling crack and drinking Mad Dog 20-20, mutha’ fucka’! Julius shouts.

I’m…sorry, Julius, said Max hurriedly. I didn’t….

I’m just fuckin’ with you, man, Julius said with a hearty laugh. Max gets the joke and laughs it off. Good one, Julius, said Max.

I got out because I wanted to get out. I went to Loyola on a scholarship and degreed in communications, said Julius. Unfortunately, some black folks still hang on corners talking about nothing, while at some colleges, white boys get wasted, give girls date rape drugs and gang rape em. Max nods his head in agreement. When you put it that way, I can’t disagree, Max said.

That used to be me over there, but I learned the truth of my ignorance, which was harbored in a lack of education, Julius said. Max realizes that Julius fits no stereotype. He comes to an understanding that what Julius has achieved, it was from hard work. Julius catches Max staring at him. What are you looking at, man? Julius asked.

You, man, you’re alright, Max said. Julius’ intimidating scowl suddenly melts like the polar ice caps. Don’t you tell them that back at the office, man, or I’ll kick your ass. I have a reputation to uphold. The two men laugh out loud. They’re not going to hear it from me, believe that, Max said, laughing. Just before Labrea and Manchester, Julius turns on a small street, arriving at their destination. Numerous cars are parked on the street even though it’s mid morning. Julius parks the car at the end of the street. I’m very nervous, Max said. Just be cool and be yourself. Don’t even try to talk black, said Julius.

I couldn’t even do that if I wanted to, joked Max. Walking down the street, they encounter a man named Lil’ Ray. Gang member, wanna’ be pimp and drug dealer. His front teeth are gold and he’s dressed in a wave cap, t-shirt and drooping pants. Lil’ Ray intentionally crosses in front of the two men. Who you guys lookin’ for, Cuz? Lil’ Ray asked. A nervous Max tries to walk around Lil’ Ray to no success. We don’t won’t any trouble, Max said, nervously. Lil’ Ray flashes gang signs. Well, you got trouble, fool! said Lil’ Ray.

Lil’ Ray gives Julius a stare, who’s looking down on the diminutive Lil’ Ray. You a big swolled up mutha’ fucka’, huh? Julius smiles at Lil’ Ray.

Somethin’ funny, Cuz?

What’s up, Homeboy? Julius asked. Lil’ Ray looks a little closer at Julius and recognizes him. Big Julius?! he asked. What’s up, my nigga? Long time no see. Lil’ Ray and Julius hug. Lil’ Ray’s boys show and surround Julius and Max. It’s been awhile, Julius said as he looks at the other men. Lil’ Ray has a wide smile showing off his gold teeth. Man, the last time I saw you was at your mom’s funeral, said Lil’ Ray.

I know, man, Julius said. Lil’ Ray turns to his homies, who’s ready to make a move. Hey homies, this is Big Julius, he said. We used to roll together, back in the day. Max nervously looks around as Lil’ Ray describes Julius to his boys. Lil’ Ray’s crew are some of the scariest guys you can think of to stand next to on a public street.

Man, nobody fucked with us when Julius was around, said Lil’ Ray.

Then, ya’ll remember Crazy Bobby—he tried to take us out but he killed Julius’ mom’s instead. The older gang members nod their heads. Where have you been since, Big Julius, a gang member asked.

We moved out, man, Julius said. My mother was killed in a senseless drive-by.

I got an education. Same thing you homeboys should think about, Julius added. Lil’ Ray takes offense to Julius trying to preach to his boys. We looked up to you, Julius, he said. You look like a sellout, tryin’ to come down here and disrespect us.

Leave it alone, Lil’ Ray, said Julius.

Check yo’ self, fool! a gang member named Ricky said, stepping towards Julius. Lil’ Ray holds Ricky back. Julius, I think it’s time we should leave, Max said, trying to leave. You leave when I say you leave, Richie Cunningham, an intense Lil’ Ray said. Lil’ Ray turns to Julius and raises his shirt. You wanna’ know what happened after you left, Big Julius?

Bobby took over. I got the scars to prove it. He got his though, Lil’ Ray said with a toothy grin. He was messin’ with some crazy Puerto Rican girl. She caught him cheatin’ on her with a white bitch. Dig this—the bitch caught them in the bath tub together. That crazy ho’ knocked the radio in the tub. Lil’ Ray’s boys laugh. Now that’s crazy man, Lil’ Ray said with a laugh. Black man dates a Puerto Rican girl and gets killed over a white girl. Poetic justice.

I didn’t know about Bobby, man, Julius said.

We sure could have used you around here, Julius, Lil’ Ray said, giving Julius five on it. Times change, man, Julius said. When my mother died I had to do away with certain things. I had to man up.

Across the street, Sharita, a known hoochie, strolls across the street, catching Lil’ Ray’s eye. Sharita was once a very attractive girl who succumbed to pier pressures of drug use. Now she’s on a daily regiment of trying to get high. Hey, Sharita, where’s my money. Bitch?! Lil’ Ray shouts. Sharita, walking in a hurry, gestures to Lil’ Ray, of giving him oral sex. Lil’ Ray laughs. That ho’ gives great head.

Gotta’ run, Lil’ Ray, Julius said. Julius and Lil’ Ray hug. You’re not trying to come back, are you Julius? Lil’ Ray asked. These are my streets now. Julius looks around at the state of the neighborhood. Naw, they were never mine to own, my brotha’. Lil’ Ray gestures to his crew to move aside. They part like the Red Sea. You and Richie Cunningham, be cool, my brotha’, Lil Ray said. Max cautiously walks by with a faint smile trying not to look any of the gang members in the eyes. Lil’ Ray and his crew walk off. Lil’ Ray catches up with Sharita. Charming guys, said Max.

Hey, man, those guys were inches away from blasting you and me, Julius said. This life is all they know and they’ll die trying to protect it.

Chapter 3

Max and Julius reach their destination after an intense moment with Lil’ Ray and his gang. Elijah is already on the front porch. He is a twenty year old, articulate student with a smug attitude who doesn’t really know what his grandfather’s life was like. Nor did he ask. I’d stay away from those guys, said Elijah, walking down the steps. Who, them? They were just the welcoming committee, said Julius. Julius extends his hand to Elijah. Thanks for meeting with us over here. This is my associate, Max Newcomb, said Julius. Max and Elijah shake hands.

Nice to meet you, Elijah, said Max.

You’re the one who wants to interview my grandfather? Elijah asked. Max pulls out an old photo of Nathan from his heyday, from his briefcase. This is a photo of your grandfather, Max said. I’m looking forward to sitting down with him. Elijah looks over the photo surprised. King Cobra! Elijah said with a big smile. Is your grandfather inside? Julius asked.

He’s inside with his nurse, Elijah said, as the men follow him up the steps. We appreciate you letting us see your grandfather, Max replied, walking up the steps. Well, it ain’t got nothing to do with me, Elijah said. My grandfather feels it’s time to tell his story…something about redemption. At the doorstep, Max takes a deep breath. You alright? Julius asked. Max gives Julius a fist pump. Lets do this, Max said. Max turns slightly to see Lil’ Ray slapping Sharita. Lil’ Ray walks off leaving Sharita to lick her wounds.

We should do something! Max said. Julius pulls Max by the arm. Don’t start something you can’t finish, Max, Julius said.

She could use our help, man, Max said, looking down the street.

What are you going to do, call the police, testify against Lil’ Ray? Julius asked. This kind of shit goes on all the time around here, adds Julius.

You can’t ask people to stick their necks out—risking their lives for a crack girl. This is the reality of living in the hood, man. It’s a concrete jungle.

I disagree with that philosophy, Julius, said Max. Somebody has to take a stand.

And somebody usually does. They just usually pay the ultimate price for it.

Chapter 4

The phones are ringing off the hooks at Gladiator Magazine since rumors came out that the magazine is being sold. All the employees are fending off the press who smell blood in the water. Lisa Walters, limited in her skills on the phones, supplies the employees with fresh coffee.

Bob is hold up in his office like a general in a war room. The smoke and stench from Bob’s cigars consume the room. Twins Mike and Jerry Lucas are locked down on the phones with Bob. For the last time, I am not selling the magazine! Bob shouts to a reporter on the phone. He slams the phone down. Lisa hands him a fresh cup of coffee. Keep the coffee coming Miss Walters, it’s going to be a long day, said Bob. If I find out who leaked this story, I’m going to kill him first, then fire him!

Good one, boss, the twins said at the same time. How about some donuts too, Mr. Goldstein? Lisa asked.

Donuts would be great! Jerry said.

There’s two of you, one of you can go get donuts, barked Bob. I need Miss Walters here. Jerry picks up another call.

Boss, Shelly Fickelstein on line two, he said.

Mike, you’re elected to get donuts, Bob snaps, as he readies to pick up the phone.

Should I get some money from petty cash to cover the expenses, boss? Mike asked. Bob gives Mike a cold stare. I’ll… just take care of this one, Chief, Mike said, meekly. Shelly…no, no. Rumors of our demise are extremely exaggerated, said Bob, over the phone. We were considering a little downsizing, that’s all. Sweat trickles down Bob’s balding head. He points to his scotch for Lisa to grab. You sure? asked Lisa, quietly. Bob nods his head. Lisa pours a glass for Bob. Jerry taps his glass. I’m Mr. Goldstein’s personal assistance, not yours, said Lisa. Lisa bends over Bob’s desk to retain his coffee mug. While she reaches for the mug her big breasts seep out a little from her blouse.

As her butt sticks out, a big storm cloud comes in by the name of Barbara Goldstein. In from her daily routine of shopping and massages. Barbara is in her fifties and is considered stunning by others but she can care less about the magazine. She comes from old money and she gets the red carpet treatment at every store on Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills. She looks at Lisa’s butt not knowing if she wants to admire it or put it on her most hated list. She steps to the side to see Bob gawking at Lisa’s breasts.

I see why there was no one at the secretary’s desk, Barbara said, with smoke coming out of her collar. But I see you’re keeping her quite busy. Bob straightens up in his chair as a frosty chill fills the room. Honey, why didn’t you call? asked Bob, shrinking in his seat like The Incredible Shrinking Man.

Miss Walters was just getting me coffee, said Bob, carefully. Uh huh, a steaming Barbara said. I did call you several times—I couldn’t get through, and your cell phone was off. I see why, now.

Are you the new secretary, honey? Barbara asked, looking at the voluptuous Lisa like she stole the family’s heirlooms. Executive assistant, said Lisa, taking a chance with her career or maybe her life. Excuse me, Monica Lewinsky! fumes Barbara. "I’m