Amputee has plenty of corner help as he fights for right to box

By Jay Mwamba

The intense fighting spirit in Timothy Joseph Welch can probably be traced back to that great Boston bare-knuckle brawler John L. Sullivan, whose lineage the 28-year-old former street tough claims.

Yet his biggest fight appears to lie not in the ring but in a courtroom, from where the final decision on whether he can make a living using his fists may come.

Even then the challenges are unlikely to end for Welch, whose other links to boxing folklore include an attorney who counseled Marvelous Marvin Hagler and a promoter who is Rocky Marciano’s first cousin.

Also known as "Titanium Tim," the 6-foot-3, 168-pound would-be pugilist will have to prove that he can fight and fight well with a prosthesis.

Welch, who has applied for a fighter’s license from the Massachusetts State Boxing Commission, had his right leg amputated above the knee in November 1997, when infection set in while recuperating from a near-fatal motorcycle accident a few months earlier in Florida.

That was the turning point in the star-crossed life of the Brockton, Mass., native and youngest of 13 children from an Irish-American family with roots in Cork and Carlow.

Boxing, which he took up in his mid-teens to relieve stress and stay in shape, remains the only constant in what was once a tumultuous life.

But whether he gets to do it for a living depends on what the Massachusetts State Boxing Commission says or — should it come to what his lawyer anticipates — what the courts rule.

The attorney, Stephen Wainwright, is far from optimistic.

"No one wanted to accommodate him because of the fear that it’s not safe for someone with one [leg] to properly defend himself. I think that’s one problem we face with the Commission," said the Brockton trial lawyer, who worked with former middleweight king Hagler from start to finish.

"I expect to get a written rejection [from the Commission], and as soon as I get that written rejection I’m going to court," Wainwright said.

Wainwright, a self-described "hired gun," is raring for a courtroom battle. "It would have taken someone like Tim to get me involved again," he said of his return to boxing, which he left in the 1980s after Hagler’s retirement.

He’s asked actress Bo Derek, an advocate for the disabled, to join Team Welch. "She’s agreeable," he said.

Welch says his quest for a boxing license, despite his obvious handicap, is not a gimmick or for a one-fight publicity stunt. "It’s what I what to do for a living," he said. "I really can’t go back [to] the bar business."

He spent most of his adult life while able-bodied in that industry, working as a barman, bouncer or doorman for a number of establishments in New England.

There’s also the matter of health-related expenses that the unemployed Welch, who worked as a foreman in a Florida glass company before the accident, needs to settle.

He has a huge bill pending for a custom-made prosthetic leg, from which the moniker "Titanium Tim" is derived. He went through three prosthetic companies before he found the one he liked.

Made of titanium, carbon fiber and Dacron (also used in seat belts), the one-of-a-kind titanium prosthesis, designed specially for use in the ring, cost $25,000 to manufacture and $12,000 to modify.

"My health insurance only covered so much. I need to pay for it," Welch said.

"This is his dream and everyone is entitled to pursue his dream," Wainwright said, in support of his client.

There’s precedence for Wainwright to cite if the Massachusetts State Boxing Commission, as expected, rejects Welch’s application for a professional license because of his handicap and the matter goes to court.

According to author and boxing historian Bert Sugar, a fighter out of Chicago named Craig Bodzianowski continued his career as a cruiserweight in the ’80s after losing a leg, coincidentally, in a motorcycle accident.

Bodzianowski won four fights after his comeback, some 18 months after his misfortune.

In fact disability, Sugar adds, was never an impediment for others, like Gene "Silent" Hairston, a deaf ’50s prize-fighter whose appearance at the fabled Madison Square Garden led to the installation of the red-lights on the turnbuckles that flash when a round is about to end.

Then there’s the still active Frank Warren, a junior welterweight from Corpus Christi, Texas, with one arm shorter than the other.

And two years ago in Queens, N.Y., Eddie McLoughlin, a former top amateur prospect in Ireland who also lost his right leg in a biking accident, made a one-fight comeback to settle a feud with a rival trainer. That bout, however, was unsanctioned.

In anticipation of his pro debut, Welch spends five hours seven days a week in the same Brockton gym once used by the revered Rocky Marciano, the only heavyweight champion to retire undefeated.

The Cappiello Brothers Gym is run by Mike Cappiello, whose brother Richie is Welch’s promoter. The Cappiellos are cousins of the late Marciano.

Wearing his titanium prosthesis, Welch goes at it with an assortment of sparring partners, five nights a week.

"I have no problems sparring 5 to 10 rounds a night," he said. "There’s no holding back. I’ve walked out with my nose bloodied."

His sparring partners are all professionals. They include Dan Sheehan, recently outpointed by Sean Fitzgerald in a cruiserweight bout, and super middleweight Mike Colbert.

Welch is tall for a super middleweight. Add that advantage to what he considers his forte — his punching power — and he likes his chances as a prizefighter despite having scant amateur experience.

"I’m a big puncher, people have no idea. I’m a wrecking ball," he said.

He showed that on the streets as well, in his rowdy early years during which he had several brushes with the law, including a stint in jail. "I had no problem taking care of myself on street corners," he said.

Single and forced to sell everything to just to stay afloat while the Massachusetts State Boxing Commission mulls over his application, Welch doesn’t hide his desperation to fight professionally.

"I’ll go anywhere [to fight]. I don’t care if I have to go to Europe," said the man who claims kinship with John L. Sullivan on his mother’s side.