The Ghost’s New Home

By Joe Scalzo

The new Southside Boxing Club opens for Pavlik’s work

As Kelly Pavlik worked out Thursday afternoon inside the brand spanking new Southside Boxing Club in Youngstown, the discussion turned to how best to describe the smell inside the old gym.

“Well-used,” said Mike Pavlik Sr., Kelly’s father.

That’s it? How about “rhinoceros armpit” or “hobo’s back hair”?

“Aw, I love the smell in that old place,” said Pavlik’s trainer, Jack Loew. “It was a great, grimy place.

“The guys from HBO would tell me, ‘People in Hollywood pay $1 million just to build a set like that.’ ”

The old gym, which was vacated a few weeks ago, combined the aroma of stale sweat with a hint of old feet. It was the perfect place to burnish Pavlik’s blue-collar reputation but it wasn’t always so great for, you know, training fighters.

For one thing, it was the size of a Manhattan studio apartment and often just as crowded. Fighters stood in line to use the ring, the punching bags and the jump ropes.

They didn’t wait in line to use the basement bathroom.

“People would say, ‘Do you have a bathroom?’ and I would just smile and point [downstairs],” Loew said, breaking into a big grin. “We had spiders bigger than the people going down there.

“We even had forms. We’d be like, ‘Hey, before you go down there, sign this.’ ”

If this seems like a strange way to start a story about the new Southside Boxing Club, it’ll make sense. Because, as it turns out, the gym’s new bathroom played a bigger role than Loew ever expected.

First, some background. Loew bought the original Southside Boxing Club in 1988. The former pizza shop was a nondescript, 875-square foot red brick building near the corner of Erie and Lucius on the city’s South Side.

For years, Loew dreamed of building a bigger place, but with a wife and kids and a house payment, it wasn’t possible.

“Then all this happened,” said Loew, referring to Pavlik’s rise.

After Pavlik won the title, Loew started shopping for a new building, hoping to find something reasonable inside the city. He even turned down the offer of a free building in Boardman because he wanted to stay in Youngstown.

“I told the guy, ‘Thank you very much, but I’ve got to stay in the city,’ ” said Loew. “ ‘These are the kids that helped me out and the city’s going to help me out.’ ”

Or so he thought.

In July, Loew bought a 4,000-square foot building — it used to be home to “Automotive Service Repair” — at 1714 Market Street for $60,000. It was more than he wanted to spend, but he figured help was on the way.

“I was promised a lot of things from certain businessmen — money, work, jobs done for nothing,” said Loew. “Everybody said, ‘Yeah, yeah, we’ll get back to you. We’ll help you out.’

“Not one person did.”

Almost immediately, the costs started piling up. The roof needed replaced. The city told him his front entrance wasn’t wheelchair accessible — it was less than two inches from passing muster —and needed to be fixed. And the back garage door had to become two regular doors. And the unisex bathroom needed to be two bathrooms.

That last one drove Loew over the edge. He successfully fought for one bathroom, so the city compromised by telling him the sink and the toilet in the bathroom needed to be moved five feet over.

Why?

“Because of code,” Loew said, shaking his head. “Which entitled me to pay an architect $1,950.”

The bathroom renovations cost another $4,300. (They are now spiffy and spider-free.) The roof was $30,000. It cost another $11,000 for carpet and a full-size ring and several thousand more for speed bags, heavy bags, treadmills, ellipticals and assorted other things. So far, it’s cost another $80,000 on top of the building purchase.

But Loew got his gym.

“I felt like I got hosed a little bit,” said Loew. “But please don’t make it sound like I’m ripping the city because they can come back and give me a much harder time.

“I just want people to know that I did this on my own. People think the city helped me out, they think the Pavliks helped me out. But not a damn person gave me a penny.”

That’s not entirely true. Last summer, the Johnny Swanson benefit dinner helped raise $10,000 for equipment and expenses. The Bob Roth memorial boxing tournament also helped and Loew plans on holding those events and a charity golf tournament every summer to help recoup some of the costs.

Loew spoke with a mixture of pride and frustration. For 20 years, Loew and his wife both worked full-time jobs, pouring their own money into the gym. They paid the bills, financed the trips to amateur boxing shows and never complained.

When Pavlik became champion, it was back payment for Loew’s time and effort but it also presented a chance to do even more. That’s what this new gym is about.

Loew doesn’t charge dues for amateur fighters; their only expense is the $35 annual registration fee.

“I’ve never charged a kid in my life and just because I have a lot of overhead now, I’m not going to start,” said Loew.

Loew does plan to offer some programs such as Boxercise for adults who want to get in shape by training like a boxer, but don’t like getting punched in the face.

He’s also got a couple promising young pro fighters and he’s hoping to add more talent. He’s got one eye on the future and the other on his present, which is Pavlik.

“Kelly doesn’t really have to leave the facility now,” said Loew. “We’re going to have almost everything in here that he could possibly need.

“It’s gonna be a great facility.”

And while Pavlik loved the old gym and was wary of changing locations, he’s impressed with the results.

“It’s great,” Pavlik said. “This [full-size] ring is the same size as the one when I fought [Jermain] Taylor twice and when I fought Bernard Hopkins. You can move around and really get a feel for everything.

“I do miss the old gym, but you have to make room for more kids and expand a little bit.”

Best of all, the new paint, the new equipment and the new location haven’t changed the gym’s aura.

“We didn’t go too fancy,” said Loew. “This is still the South Side.”

And besides, the new gym won’t be new forever. Pavlik will make sure of that.

“Believe me,” Pavlik said. “In two or three months, there will be blood and sweat laying around.

“It’ll start smelling like a gym, too.”

scalzo@vindy.com