PROBABLY nobody reading this will have heard of Macka Foley, who died suddenly and recently at 64. But that’s OK because I’m about to tell you all about him.

Macka was an unsung hero not only of boxing but of life, one of those rare people you meet who make things better just by being around.

He was never in boxing for what it could give him by way of money, glory or fame. He was in it for no other reason than he loved it, loved being around the gym and around people. This is why it is the Macka Foleys of the world rather than the Floyd Mayweathers who constitute the soul of the sport. They come into it with nothing and leave with nothing, but in between enrich it with a spirit and a passion that is priceless.

I met him in 2000 just after I moved to Los Angeles. He was the first person I encountered when I walked into Freddie Roach’s Wildcard Gym in Hollywood, tentatively making my way up the stairs to the entrance with the sound of the gym resounding in my ears. I recall that he was standing at the counter surveying the gym with the air of a man who’d seen and done it all before. “Hey how’s it goin’ buddy? Wanna workout? Five bucks.”

His gruff New England working-class accent and 6'4" bulk belied a gentle nature and an affinity with the underdog that ensured he stood out in the rarefied environment of a city in which the cult of “I” and “me” holds sway.

But then once you heard his story it was easy to understand why.

His education did take not take place at college but in Vietnam, where he served after enlisting in the Marines when he was 19. He may have been too young to understand what he was getting into, but the experience never left him afterwards, evident in his lack of personal ambition and his dedication to spending every minute of every day doing exactly what he loved rather than what he had to for a pay cheque. Life for Macka was too precious to do anything else.

His boxing career as a heavyweight, lasting 10 years for the duration of the seventies, never saw him reach the heights, but it did allow him to travel all over the world, whether as a journeyman fighting on undercards or as a sparring partner for champions and contenders.

I remember him boasting that one of his proudest achievements was being a sparring partner for heavyweight contender Earnie Shavers in the 1970s, when Shavers was getting ready to face Muhammad Ali. “The other guys [sparring partners] used to get knocked out twice a week. I only got knocked out once a week,” he said in all seriousness with a smile on his face.

Life for Macka was the gym, where he held court and was loved by all who were lucky enough to get to know him. He spoke to everyone from Hollywood celebrities to those struggling to get by exactly the same. There were no airs or graces where he was concerned. In the gym everybody was equal.

“Everybody sweats and everybody bleeds,” he was fond of saying.

Working as one of Freddie Roach’s assistants, his personality went a long way to creating the special atmosphere that enveloped you every time you walked into the place. No matter how good or bad your day had been, you could count on being lifted by his smile and warm greeting.

His encyclopedic knowledge of boxing was unsurpassed, which he combined with the humour of someone who knew enough never to take life too seriously.

“Hey Scotland,” he would greet me. “How ya feelin’? Ready to work?”

In his time living in Hollywood, where he moved in the mid eighties after retiring from the ring, he appeared in numerous movies, TV shows and commercials in bit parts, always making enough money to get by without looking to make it big.

As long as he could eat, pay the rent, and be in the gym he was happy.

His luck changed for the better when after spending years working with James Toney on the pads, being at his beck and call morning, noon, and night — and without receiving as much as a dollar for his efforts — Toney recommended Macka to the manager of the actor James Franco.

Franco was looking for someone to teach him how to box for a part in an upcoming movie, and upon Toney’s recommendation Macka was hired. He went on to work with the actor for 10 years, travelling the world with him on location, in the process developing a deep friendship.

When he learned of Macka’s passing recently, Franco wrote: “I just heard that Macka Foley passed away. He was a boxing trainer and a saint of the sweet science. I spent years with him. He showed me that anything in life — boxing, acting or just living — is all about breathing and being relaxed in yourself. I’ll never forget him.”

The last time I saw Macka was in April this year, when I was in LA on a short visit. I hadn’t seen him since leaving LA in 2005, 10 years previously, and wondered if he would still remember me. By now he was working as a trainer at Fortune’s Gym just off Sunset Boulevard, and when I approached the entrance from the parking lot he was sitting outside along with a couple of others — as ever, holding court.

“Hey Scotland,” his voice boomed out. “How ya feelin’? Ready to work?”

Macka Foley was one of boxing and life’s good guys.