Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge living on streets of Camden, estranged from family, abusing drugs and alcohol!
John O’Boyle/The Star-Ledger
Rocky Lockridge walks along a street in Camden.
For those of us who are boxing fans and covered boxing for many years for La Voz de Elizabeth, it is truly sad to see a great champion like Rocky Lockridge en up in the condition that is presented by The Star Ledger. This is the same Lockridge that fought Julio Cesar Chavez to distance, and beat the also great Wilfredo Gomez in the early 80′s. He was managed by Lou Duva and achieved greatthings in the ring. Read this amazingly sad article that should serve as an example of what not to do for boxers: today’s gladiators. Men with indomitable courage who are many times taken advantage of by their entourages and hangers on to end up without money, friends, and in the most abject poverty when fame has evaporated.
Todd Schmerler/The Star-Ledger
Rocky Lockridge sits high on a stoop, giving himself a lofty view of the intersection of 7th Street and Chestnut in Camden.
There’s a convenience store on the corner, but it’s not drawing as much interest as the woman openly dealing drugs, shouting, “Five dollars, five dollars,” to anyone who passes.
Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge is homeless in Camden
In the midst of it all, a brown sedan stops, the car idling in the middle of the street. A middle-age man gets out and quick-steps to the top of the stoop to greet Lockridge with a fist bump and a quick man-hug. After a few quiet words, he gets back into the car and drives off.
Others take turns approaching Lockridge to exchange pleasantries. One is a 20-something girl named Laquicha Smith, who seems excited to tell an outsider about the special man sitting on the cement steps.
“That’s Rocky. He’s the champ,” she says. “He’s still got it.”
The Champ looks out across the familiar street corner, his head held high. But his face is swollen by scar tissue around the eyes and more than one tooth is missing. A silver metal four-prong walking cane he now needs to walk is balanced across his knees.
His fingers tremble as he lifts a cigarette to his lips and his voice is raspy and hard to make out.
“Everybody kisses me, calls out, ‘Champ, Champ, Champ,’ ” Lockridge says. “I get joy being around them because they’re going through the struggle, same as me.”
Read full article of this amazing story a The Star Ledger.
