clarinews@clarinet.com (LISA HARRIS, UPI Sports Writer) (01/14/90)
ATLANTIC CITY, N.J. (UPI) -- The fighter and the priest who took a walk along the beach together are not to be confused with ``The Puncher and the Preacher'' who will meet in the ring Monday night. Gerry Cooney, 33, returns to boxing after a 2 1-2-year layoff against George Foreman in a fight nicknamed ``The ``Puncher and the Preacher.'' Foreman is a preacher, complete with ``visions''. It remains to be seen whether Cooney still is the puncher. The priest hanging around the Cooney camp is Rev. Charles Collins -- ''Charlie,'' Cooney grins. Cooney and Collins met through friends a year ago on Long Island, where Cooney lives. Cooney had given up alcohol and, using the Alcoholics Anonymous program, was trying to get through ``one day at a time.'' Collins, likewise, was living one day at a time after doctors had diagnosed he was dying of cancer. Collins was ``having a bad day'' from the effects of radiation treatment when Cooney invited him for lunch. Collins wanted a nap, Cooney wanted a drive and ever since, Collins says his friend distracts him from the fears and pain of cancer. ``There was a comfortability right away,'' Collins said. ``Sometimes it just clicks when you meet people, sometimes it's a process and sometimes it just clicks.'' Collins is 51, but he says: ``I feel 35, well, emotionally 19 and physically some days about one hundred and six.'' ``My sister kids me because I never liked boxing,'' Collins said. ``Isn't it funny how life works? I was always such a sick kid, I was born three months premature, weighed two pounds. I always had bronchitis and the neighborhood kids (in Queens Village, N.Y.) always wanted to make me fight. I never read a sports page. Isn't it funny how life works? Now, I'm on the sports page for being friends with a fighter.'' Monday night will be Collins' first time at a fight. ``I'm excited but I'm nervous too,'' Collins said. ``I told Gerry, `You know, whether you win or lose, you know who your friends are.' He said, `Oh, I know,' and smiled. I said `Good.' Whatever the outcome, I think he'd react very well.'' Cooney only has to look to his friend for an example of reacting well. Collins wears a bandage on part of his skull and one eye is badly affected from the radiation. ``I love life and I love people,'' Collins said. ``The doctors say it's my attitude that keeps me going.'' Collins says Cooney helps keep him going. ``He's so kind. He has such a wonderful sense of humor. He called me up at 11 p.m. and told me he was the village police and that I had to get there right away. He's very good (at disguising his voice) when he does this. I asked what is the nature and he said he didn't want to discuss it on the phone. I didn't know if it was an accident and I had to tell someone's family. So I was really all set to go until he said `We have to lock you up' -- that's what blew it.'' From the original delayed nap to interrupted bedtime, Collins has no complaints. Cooney, keeping much of his new life to himself these days, just smiles and says ``Charlie? We hang out.'' But Collins says he and Cooney have much to say to each other. ``I hope he knows how much he means to me,'' Collins said. ``I think he does. I tell him I love him and he tells me. ``I introduce him as `Gerry' because I don't want to intrude. We're friends but sometimes my friends will call and say `Was that guy you were with...?' ``I just don't want to burden him.'' That would probably be the biggest joke of all to Cooney, who seems far more lifted than burdened these days.