Turning off 14th Street in the heart of New York City, slipping past a collection of garbage cans standing guard by the curb, and then climbing two creaking flights of stairs, an ambitious young boxer would hear the snarl of a large dog on the other size of a large, heavy door. A hole covered by chicken wire provided a glimpse into Gramercy Gym and offered a whiff of hot, sweaty air steaming from inside. All the windows were shut tight and a number of boxers would be training at all hours of the day and well into the night.Cus D’Amato owned and operated this gym and though it had vitally important mirrors on the walls, every one was cracked. That didn’t stop the constant flow of young talent from seeking this gym out. Cus knew the sport inside and out and provided valuable insights to even the most inexperienced fighters. Every time the bulky door groaned against its hinges, intense eyes glared at the intruder, measuring up the competition and sizing up the next great talent.Cus D’Amato lived in a back room at Gramercy Gym, constantly on the lookout for another great talent to slip into his gym, his life, and who would seek out the treasure all great champions chase long before the world even knows their name.
Slip on this smooth, relaxed-fit tee and fall into the warmth of the gentle spirit encouraging you to go one more set, one more round, one more mile.