The heavyweight division is in wretched condition. There are four world sanctioning organizations, and each one has its own heavyweight champion. Athletes who would have been first-rate fighters decades ago now play middle-linebacker in the NFL or power forward in the NBA.

It wasn’t always this way. Fifty years ago, Rocky Marciano was in the midst of a glorious five-year championship reign at a time when the heavyweight champion was the most exalted figure in sports.

Sugar Ray Robinson was still on the scene. So were Willie Pep, Sandy Saddler, and Archie Moore. But Marciano was embedded in the consciousness of Italian-Americans in the same way that Joe Louis lived in the hearts of African-Americans. To the community, Rocky was “one of us.”

Marciano lived most of his life in Brockton, Mass., where he was born. But after his championship years, he also kept an apartment in Schwab House at 73rd Street and Riverside Drive in Manhattan. And he fought in New York City 10 times, most notably against Joe Louis, Ezzard Charles (twice), and Archie Moore.

Marciano was an idol in a simpler era, when professional athletes were heroes and sportswriters were complicit in building legends rather than exposing them. To the public, all that really mattered was that Rocky had 49 wins in 49 fights and retired in 1956 as the undefeated heavyweight champion of the world.

This is a time of year when Marciano’s family and friends remember him. He was born on September 1, 1923, and died in a plane crash on August 31, 1969, one day shy of his 46th birthday. Thus, it seems appropriate to revisit the Brockton Blockbuster through his own words and those of others who knew him well.

Charlie Goldman (Marciano’s trainer): “I got a guy who’s short, stoop shouldered, and balding with two left feet. They all look better than he does as far as the moves are concerned, but they don’t look so good on the canvas. God, how he can punch.”

Al Weill (Marciano’s manager, as his young fighter was moving toward a title shot): “Rocky is a poor Italian boy from a poor Italian family, and he appreciates the buck more than almost anybody. He’s only got two halfway decent purses so far, and it was like a tiger tasting blood.”

Rocky Marciano (to a reporter who asked if he thought he’d win his upcoming fight against Joe Louis): “That was a f—— dumb question. If I didn’t think I was gonna win, why the hell would I be fighting?”

Ed Fitzgerald (one of the premier sportswriters of the Marciano era): “Rocky is not in there to outpoint anybody with an exhibition of boxing skill. He is a primitive fighter who stalks his prey until he can belt him with that frightening right-hand crusher. He is one of the easiest fighters in the ring to hit. You can, as with an enraged grizzly bear, slow him down and make him shake his head if you hit him hard enough to wound him, but you can’t make him back up. Slowly, relentlessly, ruthlessly, he moves in on you. Sooner or later, he clubs you down.”

Rex Layne (after being knocked out by Marciano): “I was on my face. I heard the count from one to 10. I kept telling myself that I had to get up, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t make myself move. It was the strangest feeling.”

Rocky Marciano (after knocking out Jersey Joe Walcott to capture the heavyweight crown): “What could be better than walking down any street in any city and knowing you’re the heavyweight champion of the world?”

Archie Moore (who was knocked out by Marciano): “Rocky didn’t know enough boxing to know what a feint was. He never tried to outguess you. He just kept trying to knock your brains out. If he missed you with one punch, he just threw another. I had the braggadocio and the skill and the guts, but that wasn’t enough. Marciano beat me down.”

Rocky Marciano: “Why waltz with a guy for 10 rounds if you can knock him out in one?”

Rocky Marciano (explaining why he wouldn’t come out of retirement for a big payday against heavyweight champion Ingemar Johansson): “I don’t want to be remembered as a beaten champion.”

Legendary writer Jimmy Cannon: “Rocky Marciano stood out in boxing like a rose in a garbage dump.”

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A 34-year-old super-middleweight from Texas named Ann Wolfe (22-1, 15 KOs) is slated to fight 35-year-old Bo Skipper (11-3-2, 7 KOs) on October 15 at the Mississippi Coast Coliseum in Biloxi. The marketing hook is that Wolfe is a woman and Skipper is a man.

Wolfe is a credible fighter whose signature victory is a first-round knockout of previously undefeated Vonda Ward in 2004. Skipper, meanwhile, hasn’t won a fight since 2003 and has never beaten a fighter with a winning record. Each fighter is expected to weigh-in just shy of 170 pounds.At 5-feet-10-inches, Skipper is an inch taller than Wolfe.

I’m sure there is an infinite number of men who Ann Wolfe can knock out. I’m one of them. Bo Skipper might be another, but that’s not the point. Professional fights between men and women send the message that violence between men and women is appropriate. In most homes, that’s not a fair fight, which is why I’m against intergender boxing.