He saw the tears in her eyes. "Go home. I'll stand in line."She handed him the empty pot and took the children home.
Jim's eyes followed them, and then he looked forward again,turning his collar up against the wind. The soup truck seemed far,far away, but Jim had become good at waiting.Hours later, familiar sounds greeted Jim's ears—-jump ropes hitting the wooden floors, leather gloves hitting punching bags.This was the gym that Jim had trained in for years. It was the place
where he had first met Joe Gould. Even now, part of him wanted to get into the ring and fight.As he entered the gym, the usual smell of leather and sweat hithim. He looked at all the boxers training hard."Jimmy!" said a friendly voice. "Have you come to train?"It was Joe Jeannette, the owner of the gym. The old fighter hadnever been a champion, but he had always been a hero to Jim. A great boxer with quick hands and a knockout punch, Jeannettehad been one of the best heavyweights in the country. But he was a black man, and few white boxers agreed to fight him. Jeannette never had the chance to fight for the title. But Jeannette couldn't stay away from the fight game. He had become a referee, and he had opened this gym. He was never too busy to give advice to ayoung boxer. Jim tried to return Jeannette's smile, but he couldn't. He put the
soup pot down and pulled his boxing shoes out of his coat.A few minutes later, Joe Gould stepped onto the gym floor. He
was here to see a new boxer, not Jim Braddock. Joe watched as Jimhanded his boxing shoes to a young, black boxer, who paid Jim ten cents. Then Jim picked up his soup and bread and turned towardthe front entrance.Joe Jeannette looked up and saw the manager standing at the back of the gym. His eyes held a question for Joe, but Joe just shook his head and stepped behind the door.It's better for both of us if Jim doesn't see me, Joe thought.