Shut up and Lift: Papa Frenchie is Here to Stay

He shuffled in his chair and squinted out his desk-side window -- perhaps wondering how a neighborhood could have changed so much over the past 37 years, perhaps simply watching the trucks roar by on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

“You know, I could’ve been a wrestler,” Frenchie said with a smile. “But I was too short. Too light.”

Before the luxury, high-rise buildings shot up along the East River, before Christopher Wallace became Notorious BIG, before the MetroCard -- there was Frenchie’s Gym.

Hailing from Puerto Rico, Frenchie (or Papa Frenchie, if you’d like) came to the Big Apple in 1966. He started off as a Manhattan factory worker before quickly entering the club wrestling scene via Williamsburg’s Mr. Puerto Rico Gym. But after attending a local match with early-WWF superstars Johnny Rodz and Jose Estrada, Frenchie decided refereeing was the better fit.

“Let me tell you, I was 5’3” and 140 pounds!” he recalled. “These guys were giants.

And referee he did. Frenchie began by officiating local events before eventually doing a 1979 match in front of 30,000 people ... at Madison Square Garden:

“Nervous? Never. I was excited!” the 73-year-old said, smacking his hand on his desk. “The boss (Vince McMahon) had to tell me to calm down in between rounds.”

He worked on-and-off at MSG for 10 years. He was in the ring for the first Wrestlemania. He hung out with Hulk Hogan and Mr. T. He even starred in the short-lived FX show “Lights Out.”

But Frenchie’s greatest contribution probably came in 1976 – the year he turned an old dentist’s office into a workout haven. A Williamsburg mainstay that’s survived crack epidemics, recessions and varying degrees of gentrification.

Frenchie’s Gym stands two floors above a discount clothing store, parallel to the elevated M Train station on Broadway and Marcy. In many ways, the gym is refreshingly old-fashioned -- hardwood floors, rows of free weights, get-to-the-point bodybuilding machines and the owner, yes, the owner there to greet you at the door.

In other ways, change has crept its way into the neighborhood landmark. A “Like Us on Facebook” sticker sits awkwardly next to a poster of an ‘80s bodybuilder, the glowing light of a drink machine shines over a vintage desk full of old wrestling tales and an array of sports jerseys hang from a decades-old ceiling -- ready to be sold.

And then there’s the surrounding neighborhood.

A McDonalds, Checkers and Bank of America have all since opened right around the corner. High-rise apartments, internet cafes, grass-fed beef restaurants, smoothie stores and barcades have sprouted up in droves across the highway in South Williamsburg. Ridership on the L has increased almost 20 million in the past 20 years. Young professionals have replaced Dominican, Italian-American and Puerto Rican immigrants.

“Who am I to judge people?” Frenchie shrugged, rubbing his head. “But yeah, people who have been here a long time have been knocked out. Prices are too high to compete.”

Brooklyn’s average rent was calculated at $3,305 (an 8.2% increase from 2012) this past summer, not far off from Manhattan’s $3,822 median.

But although he feels the pressure of rising prices and radical changes, Frenchie keeps his fees low ($30 per month), maintains fulfilling relationships with customers and will stay in business as long as he can.

“I’m here 15 hours a day,” he said, stroking his long grey beard as an M Train rattled by the far windows. “As long as I can walk up that staircase to my desk -- I’ll be here, Papi. You can count on it.”