The lead to a story in the St. Paul Pioneer Press

during the 1970s on Rodney Bobick’s fight the

night before read something like this:

When the Prom Ballroom was constructed many

years ago they certainly didn’t have someone like

Rodney Bobick in mind. After all, the facility has

always catered to dancers.

Bobick got up to the morning newspaper that day

in St. Paul, and upon his next encounter with the

author of the article did what he always did best,

growled...with a smile on his face.

Even in the ring, Bobick always appeared to fight,

with a wry grin . Boxing was fun to him, a natural

part of his boyhood past, part of growing up in

a family of 12 boys and one girl. Fighting was a

frequent activity with his numerous brothers, all

of them heavyweights. His father seemingly spent

half his time fixing broken doors, windows or

caved in sheet rock. Fighting over this or that and

many times nothing at all was part of growing up

Bobick.

Bobick was 37-7-0 with 18 knockouts when he

died in a car accident on June 5, 1977, only 25

years old. Three years earlier he outpointed future

heavyweight champion Mike Weaver with a

unanimous verdict, just four months before

his brother Duane followed up with a TKO over

Weaver.

“Everybody says that Duane was the better fighter,’’

said their brother Loren, “but Rodney could really

take a punch and had a harder punch. For Rodney,

though, it was just fun. He wasn’t that serious

about it. He just loved to fight.’’

Rodney Bobick had a genial side to him, a friendly

side, hence his nickname the Bowlus Bear. Yet,

he truly loved to fight. “He had phenomenal

power,’’ Loren recalled, citing a street brawl that

illustrated that specific recollection. “He once

threw an uppercut on a guy in a street fight that

lifted him a foot and a half off the ground before

he bounced off the blacktop,’’ said Loren.

Bobick was also a baseball player in high school.

Loren recalled a conversation between Twins

announcer Dick Bremer and former Twins pitcher

Bert Blyleven during the broadcast of a particular

game. “They were talking about some of the

longest homers off Blyleven, ‘’ he recalled, “and

Blyleven asked Bremer (a high school pitcher)

who hit the longest ball off him. ‘It was in a

little town called Bowlus,’ Bremer recalled, ‘and

Rodney Bobick hit a ball over two cornfields.’ ‘’

Big, brawny and tough, Rodney Bobick played

catcher for his high school team. “He’d throw the

ball back to the pitcher faster and harder than the

pitcher threw it to him,’’ Loren added.

Yet, despite his reputation as a street brawler,

rugged opponent in the ring and a high school

version of Babe Ruth, Bobick had another side

that outsiders seldom saw.

“You didn’t want to get on the wrong side

of him,’’ Loren said. “But Rodney would give you

the shirt off his back. He had a kind heart and

was soft spoken.’’

Loren doesn’t recall all of the details – probably

after Rodney and Duane defeated Weaver four

months apart – to a question posed to him by one

Weaver’s handlers, “My, God, how many

more Bobicks are there?’’

For the record there were many: Loren, Rodney,

Duane, Leroy, Michael, Donald, Tom, Lester,

David, Bruce, Kurt, Robert and Tara.

Bobick’s reputation as a fighter sometimes drew

challenges outside the ring. There was the time, for

instance, when a fellow came after him with a tire

iron outside a Dairy Queen on Lake Street. “He hit

Rodney on the head with that thing,’’ Loren said.

“Rodney shook it off and the guy ran away.’’

Bobick himself could not run away when confronted

by none other than Muhammad Ali following a

sparring session one time. Ali liked to use Bobick

as a sparring partner, and when the Bowlus Bear

began making arrangements to return home, Ali

stopped him.

“He wanted to know what Rodney thought he

was doing,’’ Loren said. “When Rodney said he was

going home, Ali told him to stay put, that where

Ali went Rodney went, too.’’

Differences of opinion were not confined to Ali and

Bobick, they were present in the Bobick household

itself and perhaps with good reason, at least from

the outside looking in.

“The house we lived in was only twenty feet by

twenty-two feet and one and one-half stories,’’

Loren said. “And when it was twenty degrees

below zero outside it was five below inside. There

was ice on the windows an inch and half thick.

You had to scrap it off all the time. We slept four to

a bed.’’ Loren recalled that the toilet was outside,

too, although their father did install a shower in

the house. “Then Leroy and Duane got into a fight

and went right through the wall.’’

Rodney Bobick loved to fight and he loved his

automobiles. “He loved fast cars,’’ Loren said.

“He had a 1962 T Bird, a 1964 Malibu with the

top cut off, a 1968 Firebird, a 1971 Cadillac. ’

’ And, of course, there was the Skylark convertible. “

He loved driving that thing with the top down,’’

Loren added, “driving through downtown Bowlus,

with the top down and a blanket on his lap

because it was fifteen degrees below zero.’’

Bobick was three months shy of his twenty-six

birthday when he was killed in a car accident near

his hometown. One month earlier he defeated

Walter White with a 10-round unanimous decision

in Miami, Florida, in what would be his final bout.

He began his career with ten consecutive victories,

including a six-round decision over Tommy Clark in

Madison Square Garden. He won once more before

losing the first fight of his career, on points to Dan

Johnson at the Silver Slipper in Las Vegas, Nevada.

He rebounded in his very next bout, defeating

John Clohessy on points, again in Madison Square

Garden. Bobick was 17-1 before he lost again, that

time on points to Reynaldo Raul Gorosito, again

at the Garden. Unlike his brother Duane, who

defeated fellow Hall of Fame inductee Scott

LeDoux twice, Rodney lost on points to the

fighting Frenchman. Yet, he did more than

enough to earn his place in the Minnesota

Boxing Hall of Fame.