LOS ANGELES — On his worst days since he quit fighting, trainer Freddie Roach’s left arm trembles, his speech is slurred and he is easily fatigued.
He blames boxing for his Parkinson’s disease, but he still steps into the ring to work with others because he loves the sport and believes it keeps his condition from getting worse.
“I think what I do really fights it,” he said. “Hand-eye coordination, catching punches with the mitts and so forth, I think that’s what keeps me from getting worse.”
Boxing is Freddie Roach’s life. It landed him in his father’s good graces as a boy, kept him busy for 10 years as a professional fighter, and made him a hugely successful and rich trainer. He loves the people, the strategizing, the globe-trotting.
Even after dealing him the blow of a chronic illness, you won’t hear any hint that the sport betrayed him. He wants to keep doing what he does for the rest of his life.
“When it’s time for me to retire and I’m not functional, I will,” he said. “I don’t like to be in the way. The Parkinson’s, some people tell me I’m going to get worse, it’s part of the symptoms of it. But so far I haven’t.”
The 48-year-old Roach has trained champions like Mike Tyson, Oscar De La Hoya, James Toney and — his proudest accomplishment — Manny Pacquiao. Next up: Bernard Hopkins, who takes on Joe Calzaghe April 19 in a light heavyweight bout in Las Vegas.
A millionaire, Roach lives alone in a sparsely furnished, two-bedroom apartment that adjoins the boxing gym
he owns on the second floor of a Hollywood strip mall. His alarm clock is the sound of punches on the other side of the wall.
He has much less severe symptoms than Muhammad Ali, whose Parkinson’s has progressed to the point he can barely speak. The cause of the neurological disorder is unknown, but some experts believe boxers are at risk because their bodies take such a pounding. Roach says Mayo Clinic doctors blame boxing for his ailment, but acknowledge there is no proof.
Roach takes pills three times a day that have helped, as have the skills required of a trainer. He stands firmly in the ring while absorbing Hopkins’ solid punches to the pads he holds.
Hopkins says he struggles to hear his trainer’s slurred speech, but the fighter with a 48-4-1 pro record calls Roach one of the best in the business. He points to some of Roach’s marquee boxers — himself included, of course.
“It’s the handicap that didn’t affect his training,” Hopkins said.
Roach was born in Dedham, Mass., the fourth of seven children. His father, the late pro boxer Paul Roach, gave the five boys gloves for Christmas. Freddie fought the first of about 150 amateur bouts when he was 6 years old.
“If you came home with all D’s on your report card, no problem,” said Domenic “Pepper” Roach, an older brother. “School didn’t count, didn’t matter. Boxing was everything.”
Roach was 41-13 as a pro, fighting as a super bantamweight and lightweight, but missed his goal of a world title. When Eddie Futch, his trainer and mentor, suggested he quit, he ignored the advice and fought five more bouts. He lost four of them.
“I just wasn’t ready. When he asked me to retire, I just couldn’t see it,” Roach said. “I should have quit.”
Roach finally quit in 1987 and worked briefly as a telemarketer in Las Vegas before Futch hired him that year to help train. Nick Khan remembers his longtime friend drinking a lot and getting into too many fist fights.
“He found out that without boxing he had nothing,” said Khan, now a Los Angeles attorney. “He sort of had a realization that he needed boxing in his life.”
He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 1990, and his money problems persisted.
Roach blew $150,000 in six months after his first big payday as a trainer, Virgil Hill’s 1991 decision loss to Thomas Hearns. Roach bought cars for himself and his mother, but he’s at a loss to explain how it went so quickly, a sobering blow that helps explain why he has become so frugal. He recently splurged on a new Lincoln MKX, but has few other indulgences.
