"I don't believe it! Am I seeing a ghost?" said a voice. Jim
looked up, with food on his chin. A young man at the door was
giving Jim an unpleasant smile. "Isn't that James J. Braddock?
When I saw the name, I thought it must be a different guy." The
man stepped into the room and took out a reporter's notebook.
"How's your right hand now, Jim?"
Jim's eyes narrowed as he recognized the reporter. He said the
man's name: "Sporty Lewis."
Jim remembered what Lewis had written about his fight with
Tommy Loughran. He repeated the reporter's words to himself:
"Loughran destroyed the unskilled New Jersey fighter. The fight
was a funeral with the body still breathing."
Lewis saw the look in Jim's eyes and stopped smiling. "I don't
fight the fights, Braddock. I just write about them.