Pennsylvania Boxing Hall of Fame nod caps Joe Hand's long career

Sitting ringside at the Ali-Frazier "Fight of the Century," Joe Hand peered around him. Burt Lancaster was chatting at the announcer's table. Frank Sinatra snapped photos for Life magazine. Hand looked over his shoulder. Filing into their seats were a couple of Kennedys.

"How the heck did I get mixed up with this crowd?" he asked himself inside Madison Square Garden on that night in March 1971.

On Sunday, standing among some of the state's boxing blue bloods at his induction into the Pennsylvania Boxing Hall of Fame, Hand, 75, will again ask himself that question.

How did he, a Philadelphia police officer, come to call Smokin' Joe a friend? How did he wind up running a pay-per-view distribution company and boxing gym, both marked with his name?

Hand and eight other mainstays of the sport will gather at Romano's Catering in Philadelphia to be honored as the newest members of the hall of fame, which is voted on by about 20 members of the Pennsylvania boxing community.

The other inductees are boxers Johnny Carter, Eddie Corma, Dorsey Lay, Steve Little, Frank Moran, Joe Rowan, and Jess Smith along with boxing writer Nigel Collins.

"I don't take this lightly," said Hand, who is also a member of the Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame, the Pennsylvania Golden Gloves Hall of Fame, and the Middle Atlantic Boxing Association's Hall of Fame. "This is recognition from my peers. That means a lot to me."

Growing up, Hand never slid gloves over his fists. He wasn't a boxing fan. His introduction to the sport came because of his job and too much down time.

As a police officer, he was assigned to patrol the subway station at Eighth and Market. Crime was light, mostly just the occasional purse-snatcher. So every day, Hand kicked back and flipped through the sports pages, looking for information about the Eagles and Phillies.

One afternoon, in 1964, Hand read about a company called Cloverlay. Some investors formed the business to support Joe Frazier, who turned pro after winning a gold medal at the Tokyo Olympics earlier that summer. Hand wanted in.

He couldn't give much. He said he made only about $4,000 a year then. But Hand was accepted into the group of 14, a group that included politicians and business executives and partners at accounting firms.

Unlike Hand, most of the Cloverlay partners were well-connected, but they were also busy. They needed someone to oversee the day-to-day operations.

They could pay $100 a month. Hand was driving a new baby blue Ford Fairlane, and the car dealer needed $99 every 30 days. He took the side job.

Hand organized Frazier's training camps, found sparring partners, and, when Frazier hit the road, made room reservations.

"I was the butler," Hand said, "the gopher."

Through that work, he learned the ins and outs of the boxing business. In 1970, he formed Joe Hand Promotions, a company that distributes closed-circuit and pay-per-view events to bars and clubs.

Thirteen years later, he opened a boxing gym in Philadelphia. There, kids train for the rings Hand mastered, even if he didn't step between the ropes.