There must be something in the air of the small Abruzzese town of Ripa Teatina, something capable of shaping the blood of indomitable warriors. After giving birth to the father of the great Rocky Marciano, this little town in the province of Chieti also saw the birth of another formidable “Rocky” who, once grown, would bring honor to our colors. His given name is Rocco Mattioli, but it was as Rocky that he made his way as an emigrant in the Australian rings before returning to his homeland to set the hearts of Italian fans on fire with his knockouts. The difficult adjustment on the other side of the world, the historic match with Bruno Arcari, the world glory achieved abroad, and life away from the ring: these and other topics animated the interview that the great Rocky Mattioli granted me some years ago. I share it again today, with the kind permission of the man himself.
When you moved to Australia with your family you were only five years old. How was the impact with such a distant country where you suddenly found yourself?
When I arrived there, I was still very young, so I couldn’t really understand certain things. But once I started going to school, I realized that we Italians weren’t very well liked, and that led me to get into a few fights… When there was a dispute to settle, we’d arrange it after school; the other kids would form a circle around the two who had to fight. They weren’t particularly violent episodes though: Australians don’t seek revenge and don’t hold grudges—whether you win or lose, the next day after the fight you’d be friends. I’ll never forget one episode that happened years later, when I was already in high school. There was this Australian kid who wanted at all costs to fight me. I kept refusing, but he kept insisting, until one day he came to bother me while I was at an Italian café with my friends. I got so angry that I hit him with an uppercut under the chin and he fell to the ground with his eyes wide open; for a moment I was scared he was dead and I ran home. The next day, as soon as he saw me, he came up to me and said: “Hi Rocky, how are you? We’re friends now!” And we really did stay friends for a long time…
What pushed you to put on a pair of gloves for the first time?
I had already been in Australia for a few years, I was eleven or maybe twelve, when my cousin also came from Italy. He was about sixteen, and when he started going to school, he got beaten up every single day… One time he came to my house desperate and told me: “Rocky, there’s a boxing gym nearby, let’s go and talk, I want to learn to defend myself.” He didn’t speak the language well yet, so he wanted me to go with him to help him make himself understood. We went to the gym together and I spoke with the coach, who seemed half-drunk, and who would become my first trainer. I explained that my cousin wanted to start boxing. The coach gave him a pair of gloves and told him to hit the heavy bag. Then he had me do the same thing, even though at first I didn’t want to. In the end he looked at me and said: “Between the two of you, you’re the one who has to box, not your cousin!” That’s how my adventure began… I lost my first four or five fights! I told my coach that my father wanted me to quit since I kept losing, but he answered: “Don’t worry, I also lost my first fights, it’s normal. You’ll see, little by little you’ll get better.” And he was right: soon I started knocking people out and I never stopped.
What begins almost as a game sometimes becomes a profession… Do you remember the moment when you decided to take the big leap into the professional ranks?
Coming back from the Australian amateur championships in Tasmania, a Yugoslav friend who had gone with me told me: “Listen, I’m sick and tired of this amateur stuff, let’s turn pro!” And I replied: “Fantastic!” Shortly after, we really did turn professional and my career started to take off… My first professional fight was against an Italo-Australian named Tony Salta, and I won in the second round. Forty years later, while I was on a ferry returning from the Aeolian Islands, I heard a voice behind me: “Hey, aren’t you Rocky Mattioli?” I turned around, and when I asked him who he was, he told me he was Tony Salta’s brother! What a small world…
After five years of fighting in Australia, which allowed you to climb the rankings and reach the #25 spot in the world, you were persuaded by Umberto Branchini to return home. Did he personally come to see you fight?
At first, his son Giovanni came, but when he presented me with their plans, I replied, “I don’t believe you!” I had been deceived by other managers in Australia, so I was wary. I told him that if his father really cared about me, he would have to come in person. Then, when I fought former world champion Billy Backus in Melbourne, who came to watch the fight? Umberto Branchini himself! At that point I realized the interest was serious, and I was convinced.
Bruno Arcari was one of the greatest Italian boxers of all time. You had the chance to face him in the ring in a fascinating fight that ended in a draw, but some say that if you had pressed harder, you could have found the KO. Did it really go that way?
The match with Arcari was like a world title fight for me because I was facing a boxer who had been world champion for a long time and had an incredible record. It’s not true that I didn’t press or didn’t want to press, but he was an extremely difficult fighter to figure out. In English you use the word “awkward” to describe fighters like that… He disoriented me because I could never understand what he was going to do, and on top of that he was a southpaw. But in the last two rounds, when I finally understood how to approach him, I really went for it. He even went down, but the referee helped him back up! Now so much time has passed that I don’t remember whether he took a punch or just fell on his own, but the crowd booed loudly. Anyway, that was the fight that put me on the map.
Your world title triumph came abroad, against the German Eckhard Dagge. You knocked him out, something great champions like Vito Antuofermo and Maurice Hope couldn’t do. What stands out in your memory about that historic night in Germany?
Every moment stands out, from the moment I left the locker room to walk to the ring: the atmosphere was terrifying… A huge stadium, packed with people, and when I came out of the door it went completely dark, to the point I couldn’t see anything. Then suddenly a blinding spotlight was turned on me, and the soundtrack from “2001: A Space Odyssey” blasted at full volume. I was so caught up and emotional that I squeezed Branchini’s arm so hard he said, “Hey, you’re breaking my arm!” For me, that was a beautiful experience, a joy similar to making love.
As world champion you traveled through different cities and countries: a defense in Australia, one in your native Abruzzo, and then some non-title fights in Milan and Las Vegas. But where did you most enjoy fighting and winning, and why?
I must admit I enjoyed fighting in Australia more, because boxing is felt differently there. There’s something I can’t quite explain, another environment, another atmosphere… It makes you think of old-school boxing. Of course, I also enjoyed fighting in Italy, and if I stayed here it means I feel good here, but there it really felt like being in a Rocky movie—it was a whole different thing.
After your first loss to Maurice Hope in that cursed match where you fractured your right arm and bravely tried to fight with only one hand, many Italian fans were convinced you would regain the belt in the rematch. What went wrong that night at Wembley?
In the first fight my right arm was completely broken and the pain was unbearable. I kept fighting and taking shots, and in one round I even managed to push him to the ropes and land many punches, but then I just couldn’t go on—fighting with one hand was impossible. In the rematch, instead, I came in completely drained mentally. Today I ask myself a question: why on earth did I have to get married at 24 after becoming world champion? I should have kept focusing on my career… My manager tried to make me understand, but I wasn’t able to see it. After I got married, a child came along, and at that point the end of my career was near. If I had wanted to get the most out of my work, I shouldn’t have gotten married: I should have stayed the caged lion I was when I first came to Italy, and only married after hanging up the gloves. But today I have three sons, all healthy, so how could I regret or complain about what God has given me? You give up one thing and you gain another. When I went to Wembley, my thoughts were already with my family—I was no longer the same lion as before. My manager understood it, I didn’t yet.
More than 40 years after your retirement, what do you do nowadays?
I live in Milan and I work as a personal trainer. I decided not to focus only on boxing, because I’m also a fanatic about physical fitness. I love taking care of my own body, eating well, and leading a healthy life. So for over forty years I’ve been teaching a kind of workout I invented, which I called “Rocky Workout”: it’s a mix of different disciplines, including karate, boxing, and much more, all set to music. There are people who have been following me for decades, so I truly believe I’ve come up with something that people enjoy.