Loved by some, hated by others, sometimes even detested — but impossible to ignore. Constantine “Cus” D’Amato is, for many, a true legend of the boxing world. Numerous books, analyses, and videos have been dedicated to him, offering an introspective look at the man and at the boxing techniques that made him famous, starting with the well-known Peek-a-Boo style.
Born in the Bronx on January 17, 1908, Cus was the son of Italian immigrants. He had a brief amateur boxing career and wanted to turn professional, but was denied a license due to an eye injury sustained in a street fight. Nevertheless, he became one of the most important trainers in boxing history.
Discoverer of Rocky Graziano, friend and adviser to Ali — according to Teddy Atlas, it was Cus who suggested Ali adopt his brash attitude and use a corrosive psychological strategy against George Foreman — but above all, mentor to three Hall of Fame boxers: Floyd Patterson, José Torres, and Mike Tyson.
Many believe that without Cus, Patterson would never have become a world champion. Even more believe that José Torres would never have captured the light heavyweight title without him. Everyone agrees, however, that Mike Tyson would never have made it to eighteen, let alone become the youngest heavyweight world champion in history, had he not met D’Amato. In one way or another, Cus D’Amato influenced the lives of everyone lucky enough to cross his path.
Sometimes gruff, often quiet, always stubborn, Cus firmly believed he could never show weakness to his fighters — just as they couldn’t show any to their opponents:
“The hero and the coward both feel the same thing, but the hero uses his fear, projects it onto his opponent, while the coward runs. It’s the same thing, fear, but it’s what you do with it that matters.”
As Mike once explained:
“Cus was always obsessed with this idea of projecting what you want others to see in you. You must appear as something your opponent can’t be. You set the rules. It was about psychologically abusing your opponent, confusing the enemy.”
Part trainer, part philosopher, part psychologist — Cus had a multifaceted yet explosive personality. Over time, he made many friends and just as many enemies. It’s known that he had dealings with the mafia — which was heavily involved in boxing — though it’s hard to define what kind. What’s certain is that Cus fiercely opposed the IBC, the International Boxing Club of New York, which had deep mafia ties and was eventually dissolved.
To many, D’Amato was a paranoid old man, maybe even slightly insane. He was obsessive and controlling with his fighters, sometimes developing relationships bordering on the morbid. He often placed a cot outside Floyd Patterson’s door to watch over him, and on occasion, they even shared a bed. Cus feared someone might poison his fighter. Rumors, speculations, gossip — the odd relationship between the two sparked questions about D’Amato’s private life.
Drawing clear lines is difficult. Cus’s life remains, in some respects, shrouded in mystery.
Some say he avoided matching Patterson with America’s top challengers because he didn’t want to risk losing the title. Others believe he refused to be part of fixed fights. Sonny Liston, the designated contender, wasn’t considered due to his criminal ties until public pressure became unbearable. Even President John F. Kennedy intervened, publicly asking Patterson to accept the fight with Liston.
Accusations of mafia collusion, doubts about his ethics — the New York State Commission revoked his manager’s license for alleged misconduct related to the Patterson–Johansson title bout in June 1959.
At a certain point, with Patterson and Torres retired, Cus became an exile from the boxing world — or perhaps he chose to retreat into his own. He moved to Catskill in 1962, where he continued to train and mentor young fighters, often taking them off the streets.
One day, a 12-year-old boy entered his gym, accompanied by Bobby Stewart, a former Golden Gloves champion working as a counselor at the Tryon School for Boys. Stewart wanted Cus and Teddy Atlas to take a look at the kid. Stewart sparred three heated rounds with the boy, whom he had trained up to that point.
The boy’s name was Mike Tyson, and he impressed the old trainer so much that Cus exclaimed:
“This kid will become heavyweight champion of the world someday if he keeps his interest and desire for the discipline.”
Cus never lived to see Mike wear the championship belt. He died on November 4, 1985, of pneumonia. About a year later, Tyson lifted the world title — dedicating his triumph to the man who had adopted him, taught him everything about the noble art, and to whom he had promised that one day he would become world champion.