Jim stepped up to Sporty, toe to toe and eye to eye. "Save that garbage for your readers," he said. Suddenly, the door opened and an official pointed at Jim. "It's time," he said. Jim left the room, keeping his eyes on Sporty Lewis's. Sporty stared after him, pale and shaken."That guy," he said to the official. "What a loser!"Minutes later, Sporty was back in his seat by the side of the boxing ring. A young reporter next to him asked, "Who's Jim Braddock?""Get your pencil out, kid," Sporty Lewis said. "I have your story for you: 'The walk from the changing room to the ring was the only time tonight that Jim Braddock was seen on his feet.' "•"In this corner, Corn Griffin!"Griffin jumped to the center of the ring and lifted his thick arms above his head. The tall young boxer wore a confident smile on his face. He was young and powerful, a natural heavyweight with long arms and a big punch."And in this corner . . . from New Jersey . . .Jim Braddock!"The crowd were silent.When the bell rang, Griffin came out punching hard and fast. Braddock danced and dodged, doing everything possible to keep away from Corn's powerful punches. After thirty seconds,Braddock decided that this fight was a bad idea. His opponent had trained hard and was ready to fight. He timed his jabs and punches to Braddock's body perfectly. Jim's only goal now was to finish the fight without getting hurt. He had to be able to work at the docks the next day.Suddenly, a big left-hand punch from Griffin hit Braddock on the side of the head. He went down. As he lay there, the clocks seemed to stop