There may not be a whole lot of new information to some, but a good read for those who want to take the time. Roach fights Parkinson's while thriving as a boxing trainer By Elliot Spagat, Associated Press Writer 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. He has never married, though he was engaged to track star Sheila Hudson. He says they called it off after he skipped her track meets for boxing matches. "I can't find the girl that would take a back seat to boxing," he said. "Girlfriends, they can't see what I do. I work too much, but it's what I like." He calls the 29-year-old Pacquiao "my pride and joy," and says the Filipino fighter is like a son. Boxes are still unpacked two years after moving into his tidy apartment and the walls are almost bare, but Roach keeps a framed photo next to his bed. It shows him celebrating a victory with Pacquiao. Roach testified on Pacquiao's behalf at a 2006 federal civil trial that extricated Pacquiao from a contract with manager Murad Muhammad. He erected a wall in his gym to give Pacquiao privacy to train. When Roach accompanies Pacquiao to the Philippines, strangers greet the bespectacled trainer with Scottish and French Canadian roots as "Coach Freddie." "They say I'm the third most popular person in the Philippines," he said. "Pacquiao is No. 1, the president's No. 2, and I'm No. 3." In the ring corner and in practice, Roach speaks quietly. Some observers think Parkinson's may explain his calm demeanor, but Roach says it's just his style, that yelling at people doesn't teach them to change. Roach, who moved to Los Angeles to train actor Mickey Rourke, says he breaks even on his gym, which draws many white-collar men and women. He says patrons have included actors Denzel Washington, John Travolta and Wesley Snipes, and singer Aimee Mann. About 10 former boxers make a living there giving private lessons. Roach greets visitors at the entrance and does his paperwork in an adjoining closet-sized office over the rhythmic din of jump ropes and punching bags. The walls of the 1,400-square-foot gym are papered with posters from his favorite fights, including many where he was in the ring or in the corner. Roach supports national standards that would prevent fighters who fail a brain exam in one state from fighting in another. He rattles off the names of boxers who he thinks will suffer neurological damage. He's quick to warn aging pugilists when he sees their shuffled gaits, an early sign of trouble. "Legs and speech are part of a boxer's downfall," he said. "I can notice things more than most because I have all the symptoms ... I don't want anyone to go through Parkinson's every day like I do." The Associated Press
