Chuck

My name is Chuck Wepner.

You don't know me.

Well, you do know me, but you don't know you know me.

Once upon a time, I was the heavyweight champ of New Jersey.

They called me the Bayonne Bleeder.

I always hated that name, but for some reason, it stuck.

Hoboken had Sinatra, Bayonne had me.

Chuck fucking Wepner!

I swear, this might be the proudest day in my entire life.

It's like Christmas and All Saints' Day rolled into one. (CHUCKLES)

John, you know who this guy is?

Yeah, I know who Arty is.

Did you know Arty invented the wet T-shirt contest?

- What? - I shit you not.

No, Arty Stock, no wet nip. Period.

That was you?

Hey, I was just trying to sell some booze

without getting shut down, if you know what I mean.

That's genius right there, that's what that is.

Hey, no, Champ. You...

- What? - You're a legend.

Ah! To legends. (CHUCKLES)

I made a name for myself by doing a lot of crazy shit.

Not all of it's true, but this part is.

In this corner, the former New Jersey heavyweight champion,

the man who went 15 rounds with Muhammad Ali, okay?

The pride of Bayonne, Chuck Wepner!

And in this corner,

you know him from his Hollywood movie, Paint Your Wagon,

his many Tonight Show appearances,

he's undefeated in 1,303 bouts.

It's Victor!

- All right, nothing to the face, okay? - Did you tell him that?

No face.

Let's go!

For me, it was always about putting on a show.

Even when I was a kid, growing up in Bayonne,

me and my brother Don were a couple of real clowns.

I was not really a fighter, but this was Bayonne.

One way or another, you were gonna end up fighting.

In 1954, Malphy Esposito stole my basketball.

I didn't wanna do anything, but he whacked me pretty good.

I may not be the greatest fighter of all time, but what I learned that day...

Chuck.

Is that I had a gift. I was special.

When you stop any guy in the street

and you ask him who Chuck Wepner was, he'll tell ya,

"That guy could take a punch."

- (BELL DINGS) - (CROWD CHEERING)

For a guy who wasn't really a fighter, I was doing pretty good.

By 1974, I was flying up the heavyweight ranks

and primed for a shot at the title against "Big George" Foreman.

The only guy who stood in my way was Terry Hinke, the Storming Mormon.

Hey, Bleeder! - What?

Let it go. Let it go. Let it go!

Oh, shit. Bad?

Come on, Al, let me see the cut.

Looks pretty bad.

All right, get the fuck out of this corner,

and don't bother me while I'm working, all right?

Whatever we had to do, we did.

Al and I had an agreement, always move forward and never stop the fight.

AI, let the doc see the cut.

Oh, sure, have a look there.

- Yeah, he's good. He's good. - Thanks, Doc.

They called Al "The Butcher," but it wasn't just him.

I wouldn't stop, either.

Besides, it wasn't his fault I bled so much.

I cannot close this fucking cut.

It's time to send this fucking Mormon back to Utah.

- Are you with me? - Yeah.

- All right, let's do it. - Go.

You're on, Chuck. You're on. Hit him.

And the winner by knockout,

in two minutes and 18 seconds of the 11th round,

and still the North American and New Jersey heavyweight champion,

Chuck Wepner!

Hey, baby.

Daddy, were you boxing again?

Yeah, as a matter of fact, I was.

Is that why your face looks so funny?

No, sweetheart.

Daddy's face always looks funny.

The other guy was just trying to spruce it up for me a bit.

Come here, give me some sugar.

Come on, Kimby. It's 8:00.

You gotta eat your breakfast. Go. Go, go, go.

Bye, Daddy.

Come here, let me look at you.

I'm all right.

Come here, baby.

- Let me see. - It's my ribs.

Chuck, you look terrible.

I'll be as handsome as ever a couple of days.

Here, gimme some of that.

Oh, yeah.

- Oh, and a little bit of that! - (LAUGHING)

Chuck, no. Come on, I have to get Kimberly to school.

Plus, I'm still mad at you.

- Will you stop with that, please? - No!

It's one of Arty's girls. I swear to God, I never put a hand on her.

It's not your hands I'm worried about.

- I wrote you another poem. - You can keep your poems.

Ah, it's a good one. Put it on the fridge for you.

Yeah?

- Come on, let me put it in. - No!

- Just the tip. - (LAUGHING) Chuck! No!

- Yeah, come on! - Chuck, come on! I have 15 minutes...

Ow! Fuck!

To drop her off and get to work! God. I'm late.

" My One and Only. "

"You alone are in my heart."

"From break of day till evening start."

"All the while I think of you."

"And the lucky day that made us two."

I wrote Phyll poems all the time.

Left them around for her, you know?

How you doing? Chuck Wepner. Life treating you good?

There was another fighter,

name of Frankie Suppone, owned the liquor route.

He was retiring, said I had a good personality and I should take his route.

I'd make a good liquor salesman.

How you doing? Chuck Wepner.

Let me ask you something, you like Dewar's?

I figured, what the hell?

I may be ranked eighth in the world, but I still need a freaking job.

Before that, I was a bouncer for a couple of years,

then a debt collector for Frank Giglio.

I was never good at roughing guys up. Too nice.

Felt sorry for them, you know?

Besides, who wants to hang out with a leg breaker

when you could be rubbing elbows with the heavyweight champ of New Jersey?

Hey, Champ! Nice fight with Hinke last night.

- Thanks, Joe. - You really creamed his Mormon ass.

Hey, hey. Bayonne makes, the world takes, baby.

You got it, brother.

Hello, hello, hello. - Hey, here he is!

- Congratulations! - (ALL CHEERING)

Hey, congrats.

- How you doing? Way to go, Champ.

- How are you, Pete? - Good. How's the face?

How's my face? I don't know. What do you think?

- Oh! You're gorgeous. You're beautiful. - Improvement, right?

Beautiful.

- Where's Johnny? - Where the fuck you think I am?

I'm bleeding the lizard, and my prostate is fucking killing me.

So, don't try to hustle me today, Chuck, huh?

Johnny D, this is me. Who's hustling?

You know I already got a deal with those other guys.

I got something I wanna show you.

Look at this. See that?

- That's my girl, Dot. - Dot?

Yeah, well, I call her Dotty.

See, you turn her over and she goes from Dotty to Naughty.

Yeah. That's beautiful. - You like that? Who wants one?

- I'll take one. All right. - There you go.

I got one for all of you. - How you doing, Champ?

I'm good. How you doing?

Johnny, how much Wolfschmidts you want?

All right, how bad you gonna bang me up for two cases?

Well, Johnny, for you,

I'm gonna make you a very special deal.

- Wolfschmidts, right? - Yeah. Two.

Black and blue, and you still look good, Champ.

Ooh.

- Hey, Champ. - How are you?

Hey, Chuck!

Yeah, no, of course. Yeah, but listen...

I mean, it takes two people to dance, isn't that right?

No, no, no. Hey, calm down a little bit, okay?

What's up?

Listen to me! Listen to me! All right, listen to me, you fucking gonif!

No... I mean...

You got yourself a deal.

Yeah. You, too. I'll see ya.

How's the cut? Let me look at you.

- What's that for? - I wanna see if you're gonna bleed.

Jesus, AI! You nearly took my fucking head off!

It's a good thing I know how to take care of your cuts.

Storming Mormon almost turned you into a cyclops.

- Stop! - You fucking hemophiliac.

Who was on the phone?

AI, come on, I know you got something going on. Who was that?

That was Don King.

No shit.

Because of the beating you put on Hinke,

I'm looking at a guy who's got a shot at the heavyweight title.

You fucking Polack.

After Foreman takes care of Mahatma in Zaire...

It's Muhammad, AI. His name's Muhammad.

You should say it right, okay?

I don't give a fuck if it's Mukluk! All right?

When Foreman knocks Ali on his ass, you're in.

And what if Ali wins?

Foreman is a fucking monster. It's a lock.

I got...

- Title shot, huh? - That's right, kid.

Hey, this is your lucky day.

AI, lucky day, lucky man.

Come here.