Jim walks past boarded up store fronts. A young GIRL (12) stands in a doorway, sad eyes and outfit of inappropriate promise.

LEXINGTON AVENUE

Jim continues his endless walk. A MAN in a suit sells apples, none very appealing.

Jim passes a department store as a limo pulls curb-side and two well-to-do children race out followed by their parents.

Jim walks through a milling crowd in front of an employment office without even pausing.

MADISON SQUARE GARDEN

Men are tearing down the light board for scrap. Jim stares at mounted photos of boxers in fight stances. Heads inside.

MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - BOXING CLUB

Thick with smoke. Maybe twenty MEN sit around, playing cards. Loud ARGUMENTS. Johnston. Gould.

TWO PROMOTERS stand LAUGHING. They don't even notice Jim ENTER. Not until he's standing right in front of them.

BRADDOCK
Mr. Allen. Phil.

This is almost killing him.

BRADDOCK
Thing is. I can't afford to pay the heat. Had to farm out my kids.

Every word is impossible.

BRADDOCK
They keep cutting shifts at the dock. You don't get picked every day. Just need enough to catch up.

The shame almost too much to bear.

BRADDOCK
Went to the relief office. Gave me twelve eighty. I need thirteen sixty more. To pay the bill. Get them back.

This once great fighter now takes off his hat.

BRADDOCK
It pains me to ask. So much. But I sure would be grateful.

He holds out his hat. The moment lasts. The room has grown silent. The two men are speechless. Then one digs into his pocket, comes out with a few coins.

PROMOTER
Sure, Jim. Sure.

BRADDOCK Thank you.

The next guy does the same. What follows is nearly too excruciating to watch. Jim moves around the room, hat in hand. Even Johnston gives. The last man he comes on is Joe. Jim can barely meet his eyes.

BRADDOCK
I'm sorry, Joe.

JOE
What the hell do you have to be sorry about? Jesus, Jim.

Jim is looking into the hat.

JOE
How short are you?

Jim's been counting as he goes.

BRADDOCK
A buck-fifty, I think.

Joe winces, goes into his wallet. Fishes out a single, two quarters. Puts them in the hat.

BRADDOCK
Joe...

JOE
Don't mention it, Jimmy.

They watch him go, one of their own, nothing left, not even his pride. HOLD on JOE GOULD.