Arthur Curry (1960-2009)

By Eric Silverstadt

Artie Curry died suddenly yesterday, seven weeks after his 49th birthday. In the boxing world, his official duties were: “Director of Boxing Talent Relations” at HBO Sports. To me, it was a quasi-title that underplayed his role in boxing and in life itself. Artie was the liaison between the network and the boxers, but Artie could have been a liaison for any number of causes that involved humans outside of the ring. “La Bete Humaine” as Malraux wrote in the 1930’s, the human condition was what Artie Curry knew best.

My best laughs with Artie were not at Jimmy’s Corner, the midtown Manhattan boxing bar where he would heft his considerable frame upon a stool and shoot the bull about the power brokers and one trick ponies that encircled his boxing hemisphere. Instead, one evening at Dorrian’s, on the East Side, Artie went off his club soda regimen and drank “old school” with me. We were close in age and Artie was having a mid-life stream of conscious moment I could relate to. He had moved into his Brooklyn home recently and was wondering aloud about what was around the corner for him next.

A gentle giant, who could also throw a mean scowl when asked for one too many favors, Artie was the guy many boxing gravy-trainers wanted to know as he was “in the loop”: they wanted a piece of his “access” to HBO and its insular boxing world. He was also a reflective person who had a “joie de vivre” approach to living, waxing on his younger days in the fast lane, but someone who was also philosophical about always wanting to lead a healthier lifestyle. That was hard to do, given his monthly schedule of coast to coast/trans-continental flights, hotel food, and various pubs around the world. I know when he had knee replacement surgery in May 2008 he had mentioned it was another wake-up call about his health.

Dave Itskowitch, COO of Golden Boy Promotions, called me last evening near midnight with the sad, sudden news of Artie’s death. Dave introduced me to Artie in 2005 when I was working in a non-boxing capacity for DiBella Entertainment. If there was a fight and there was an airport, there was Artie.

He obviously touched many people; especially those who had knowledge about his extremely rough childhood. When my mother was battling lung cancer, Artie e-mailed his thoughts, usually opening with “bro” and ending with “God Bless”. A woman from HBO Sports who worked closely with Artie, who didn’t want to be identified, returned my phone call this morning. Her quiet words about Artie were heavy with grief and pain. She said, “Everyone at HBO is devastated”.

I know personally that Dave Itskowitch and Artie were kindred spirits, straight shooters in a sport rife with backstabbing, lies, and undeserved massive egos. Calling from Las Vegas, a distraught Itskowitch (whom Artie called “white chocolate”) told me “Some people are loved by many and hated by a few. Artie was loved by all and hated by none. The world is a worse place today than it was yesterday.”

Simply, Artie Curry was a friend to many. His laugh, his wry humor, and kindness to those who knew him personally will be truly missed.

(Photo by Holger Keifel)