Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The Other Sugar Ray

By Ted Sares

I was 6 feet tall and wrong-handed, just what all the other fighters fear,'' Seales said. ''When I was young, I was all arms and legs. They told me that's the way Sugar Ray Robinson was when he started out; that's how I got the nickname. --Sugar Ray Seales

We’d [Marvin Johnson] love to find a good young lefthander and teach him what we know…Watching a young fighter develop…….man, that would be something. --Sugar Ray Seales.

… Ray Seales' story—one of naïveté, botched opportunity, exploitation and, especially, reckless ambition—should be required reading for Ray Leonard. --William Plummer (1984)

Sugar Ray Seales had a fantastic amateur record of 338-12 and came from a boxing family (his father, a former Army boxer who was 31-1, helped teach his four sons to box). With a rapid-fire jab and solid power, he became the only American fighter to win a gold medal in the 1972 Olympics by defeating Bulgarian Anghei Anghelov. A "bolo punch" floored Anghelov in the second round, clinching the win. But unfortunately for him, this Olympic victory came at a time when an Olympic gold medal did not guaranteed real gold for fighters who turned professional. As an aside, his teammates included Duane Bobick, Marvin Johnson, Ray Russell, Reggie Jones, Jesse Valdez, James “Bubba” Busceme, Ricardo Carrera, Louis Self, Tim Dement and Davey Armstrong. These, of course, were the Olympics that involved the tragic Black September raid

Unlike today’s coming out parties, he turned pro with little fanfare in 1973, winning an eight rounder over one Gonzalo Rodriguez. He won his first 22 bouts fighting throughout the Western states before losing to Marvin Hagler on points in 1974 in Boston in a fight for which he and his manager were ill-prepared. He then put together an unbeaten streak of six fights, including a highly respectable draw with the tough Hagler. Then in December 1976 in England, he fought Alan Minter, a tough Brit who had garnered notable and credible victories over big-name opponents including nine Americans. This was a fight that many thought would propel Seales to a title shot, but it was not to be. He was TKOd in the fifth by the determined Englishman who caught Seales in a furious exchange and prevailed.

Sometimes in a boxer's career there comes a pivotal fight, one that turns his fortunes for the good and sends him to bigger and better things, as was the case when Irish Mickey Ward suddenly and unexpectedly knocked out heavily favored Alfonso Sanchez with a deadly left hook to the body in 1997on HBO. But there are two edges to this knife and one cuts more deeply than the other. When Sugar Ray lost to Minter, his career took a detour the nature of which never led him back to the championship road. More to the point, he would never again fight at the same level of competence and was destroyed by Hagler in one round in their fight in 1979, being dropped three times. Later, in a 1980 fight with tall Jaime Thomas, he was thumbed in the eye, tearing his retina, and he gradually went blind, even while continuing to fight.

Perhaps the best way to describe Seale’s change in direction is to focus on his trilogy with Hagler: Sugar Ray won his first twenty-one fights until losing a close decision to Marvin Hagler in Boston in 1974. Later that same year, he held Hagler to a draw that could have gone either way. Seales then fought and lost to Minter in 1976.After losing to Ronnie Harris in 1977, he went undefeated in his next 16 before losing a close MD to future World light middleweight champion Ayub Kalule in Denmark. He then met Hagler in 1979 for the third time (again in Boston) and suffered the aformentioned savage first-round KO. While the early draw gave Hagler a means by which he could test his progress, as he later chilled Seales, it also gave Seales the means by which to gauge his own lack of progress.

Sugar Ray then went 10-2-1, winning the NABF Middleweight Title in 1981 by icing hard hitting Sammy NeSmith and beating bomber John LoCicero in 1982 after which he amazingly went 12 competitive rounds with James Shuler--amazingly, because he could barely see when he went into that fight. He ended his career with a one round icing of Max Hord (26-14) and finally retired in 1983.

As Robert Mladinich puts it in a December 19, 2006, article in the SweetScience.com entitled “Sugar Ray Seales: Take pride in what you do:”

“(Eye operation) numbers one and two were good, but after three and four things got much worse,” said Seales, who would eventually have seven eye surgeries, three on the right and four on the left. Eventually he was declared legally blind and became an unwitting poster boy for boxing abolitionists.”

Upon retiring Seales hit tough times. One account had him working with autistic students at Lincoln High School in Tacoma. Another had him hanging around the gyms in Tacoma encouraging the fighters, but reportedly the trainers and older fighters never really included him in the "inner circle." At any rate, he moved to Indianapolis in 2006 with his wife, where he currently resides and maintains a close relationship with Marvin Johnson.

Seales ended up with a fine 56-8-3 record and was only stopped twice in 67 bouts. He fought in 22 different states and 5 countries. In 2005, he was inducted into the Tacoma-Pierce County Sports Hall of Fame. In many respects, Ray risked his eyesight to become a World Champion, and while he lost that gamble, he managed to wear his nickname with respect.

“Sugar” Ray Seales was the third “Sugar Ray.

Hedgemon Lewis

By Jim Amato

It was a forgotten name from the glorious late 60’s and early 70’s. His name is Hedgemon Lewis. Hedgemon is now just a footnote in welterweight championship history. New York State Athletic Commission once recognized him as World Champion after he whipped favorite son Billy Backus a few times. The real champion of that era was the Hall Of Fame great Jose ” Mantequilla ” Napoles. Lewis twice met Napoles for world honors losing the first fight on a very close verdict. In the return match Hedge was halted in nine rounds.

Lewis would later challenge the man who beat Napoles, John H. Stracey and again fail to capture crown. Lewis also had a series of exciting bouts with the popular Ernie “Red” Lopez and he held another International Boxing Hall Of Fame inductee Carlos Palomino to a draw. Hedgemon Lewis WAS Sugar Ray Leonard before there was a Sugar Ray Leonard. Lewis had grace, style and flash. What Hedge didn’t have was Ray’s strength and power. Hedge’s whiskers were not the best but he was skillful in avoiding punches. Ray Leonard had nothing on Lewis when it came to pure boxing ability.

When I think about Hedgemon Lewis, I just think “class act”. There is no doubt in my mind with the fragmented titles we have today plus the twelve round championship distance that Lewis would not have copped a crown. When he was on his game you could not get to him until the seventh or eighth round. This boxer was MADE for the twelve round distances because he had the heart, style and endurance to go fifteen. In a twelve rounder he would build up such an insurmountable lead that you would have to knock him out. No easy task. In his prime the only ones to really compete with him were the great Napoles and the vastly under rated Ernie Lopez.

So here’s a hat off to Hedgemon Lewis. It was a pleasure to watch him fight.

Monday, May 25, 2009

GHOST SHIP

By Roger Esty

"They look like World War II vets,"I said to John as he drove his car into the parking lot.
"Could be Korean War too,"he added.
The parking lot for the Maritime Museum in San Pedro was practically empty. Just a few cars .The museum opened at 10. It was 10 thirty. The old men were wearing caps with a insignia. They numbered around 10 to 15. About half of them looked like they were with their wives. A van was parked next to the group. Some people were unloading wheel chairs for the men who couldn't walk .

"John,where are you driving?"I asked.
"I want to find a space close by because of your hip."
"I'm fine. Park by those veterans. That's close enough for me."
At the intersection in front of the Maritime Museum there was yellow police tape closing off the area. Two policeman were leaning against their squad cars talking to each other. There was no traffic appraoching the intersection.

We walked inside and saw an old gal behind the counter. She was wearing a cap like the old men out front. I was close enough to see what was on the cap. "Merchant Marine Veterans Of Foreign Wars." The old gal smiled at us. She was short and very pretty.
"Hello boys. You're the first ones here today."
"What's going on outside?"I asked her.
"Today is the unveiling of the Merchant Marine Memorial Wall."
I looked across the street.I saw a long gray wall with about 100 folding chairs in front of it. In the back was a pole flying the U.S. flag.
"Boys the ceremony is going to start at 11 o'clock."
"Good, we'll walk around the museum first and then come back."

My friend John was in the Navy before becoming a school teacher. We both taught history and were intersted in seeing the museum. It was the first time for both of us.
"Rog,look. It's the USS Canberra."
John was very sharp with recognizing the different Navy ships.

I saw a mural of big fish on a wall.
"Didn't there used to be canneries here?"I asked the old gal.
"Absolutely. Six to be exact."
She was very pleased to answer our questions and give us backround on the area.
"I remember when I was a girl during the War,"she said. "All the soldiers would board the train for Ft. MacArthur. I just lived up the road."
"It must have been an exciting time,"said John.
"Oh yes. With the Army and the Navy. The Marines were here too to protect the Navy."
John scoffed a little.
"Rog,I'm going to walk inside."
"I'll be with you."

The old gal looked out the door at the ceremony being set up.
"It's all gone now. The servicemen. The canneries,"she lamented.
I followed John inside the hallways of the museum. The different model ships and paintings and photographs of the vessels with their histories were very interesting.We walked around reading and looking for an hour or so.

When we returned to the front desk,the old gal smiled and gave us a souvenir pin.
"We forgot to pay you,"I said.
"Oh there's no fee. If you wish to make a donation you can put it in the kitty."

I looked outside. The ceremony had started. Aside from the Merchant Marine Veterans,there were only a handfull of people sitting in the chairs.
"Did you boys know that over 6000 seamen lost their lives in Worl War II?"
"No,"I said."I didn't know that."
"All their names are on that wall."
The old gal was staring across the street. The two cops were still leaning against their squad cars talking to each other.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

IN SEARCH OF

By Roger Esty

So I went to Tijuana to the dentist to get some new teeth. While I was waiting for my porceline,I thought I'd try to locate where Antonio Margarito was training his young stable of fighters.

I asked the parking lot attendant if he knew the whereabouts of El Tony. To my surprise he told me that Margarito lifts weights at a gym between 1st and 2nd Streets on Calle Multilismo. Sure enough I found the gym ,but no Tony. The gym is a little hole in the wall called Hard Body. A few weights. Some machines and bicycles. Clean,but small. The fella' behind the counter told me Margarito would come in on Monday around 8 in the morning. I won't be there,but then I asked him about Colonia Francisco Villa. That's where Tony lives. The guy said that Tony's boxing gym is there. So back in the car and off to La Villa.

Colonia Villa is up the hill where I used to live,Canyon Jhonson. Canyon Jhonson is wedged down below between La Villa and Colonia Hidalgo. I asked around La Villa about Margarito's gym,but I must have asked people who were into bull fighting because no one knew what I was talking about.

I had some time to kill before I picked up my teeth so I walked around La Villa. It's not a bad little community. I say community because I could feel a sense of continuity. The plaza with the church. The main drag with its stores and restaurants. Schools and a park with people gathered enjoying a warm Saturday afternoon. It was alive.

I then walked to the edge of the colonia and looked down into where I used to live, in the canyon. It seems always that if you live down below the people on the hill have it better. It looked that way to me. Canyon Jhonson has no park nor play grounds. No stores. Can't eat anywhere. The street running through the ravine doesn't have a sidewalk. There's not even a church.

Sometimes I think the people that live in Canyon Jhonson are almost unable to climb out. In the bottom of that canyon, they seem forgotton.

Well after walking around La Villa for a while,I got in the car and headed downtown to pick up my pearly whites. I didn't drive through Canyon Jhonson on the way back.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Tepito: The Wild Neighborhood that Spawned Great Boxers

By Ted Sares

The gringos have always beaten us in everything else, but not in boxing… ---Cesar Bazan Perez

….being Mexican is a privilege, but being from Tepito is a gift of God. - Motto used by Tepito neighbors

Tepito has learned to recycle stigmas, like the label of criminality, and make them over into a kind of collective charisma. But it goes beyond that: the so-called barrio bravo has grown resistant to anti-barrio viruses by maintaining its own ways of organizing work, its own daily rhythms, and even its own urban dialect ii Alfonso Hernández

Many consider Tepito a dangerous place to visit. It is deep in the core of Mexico City with an enormous street market that operates six days a week and sells many illegal items. It is often referred to as the "el barrio bravo de Tepito," (which roughly translated means: "the Wild Neighborhood of Tepito"). It is a soulful place where innocents and hard working people coexist with criminals.

This infamous, albeit often misunderstood place where many prominent Mexican boxers have been born is perhaps best known for being home to dangerous gangs and criminals. It is bordered by streets on which children ride bikes with walkie-talkies and cell phones ready to alert gang leaders that suspicious looking types have entered Yet, as someone once said, bad things happen everywhere and there is no one place where bad things happen every moment of every day. So, while respect should always be paid to the reputation of a locale, a locale should never be judged on reputation alone. Indeed, and not unlike La Lagunilla (another great Mexico City market area), my many visits to Tepito have been both enjoyable and safe ones even though poverty, corruption and violence are daily realities.

There is still a boxing gym where young men spar with each other, but for all practical purposes boxing is little more than a memory. Back in the day, however, there were several boxers who fought their way out of Tepito to respect throughout Latin America and far beyond. Here are just a few:

llanueva Paramo a.k.a. Kid Azteca (1930-1961)

This immortal welterweight ended his long career with an astonishing mark of 156-44-8 that spanned four decades. And he fought at the top level without a gap. From 1953 until he retired in 1961, he fought 27 times. Even more incredible is that he lived until 2002 when he died at age 88. Unlike many great fighters who stay on too long, The Kid went undefeated in 26 of his last 27 fights.

Raul “El Raton” Macias (1953-1962)

The super popular El Raton started his amateur career reportedly at age fourteen, winning several national titles. Known by the nickname “Mouse,” the 5-foot-3 ½-inch Macías won the vacant bantamweight title over Chamrern Songkitrat of Thailand in 1955. He successfully defended the title twice before losing it before 20,060 fans to French-Algerian Alphonse Halimi, on a controversial split decision in 1957. Amazingly, he once filled Mexico City’s bullfighting ring where 50,000 adoring fans saw him defeat Nate Brooks in 1954 for the North American title. The Mouse had become Mexico’s top sports hero.

He was a “thinking man's fighter” who could win in many ways and beat many notables. In only his seventh pro outing, he outpointed veteran Galvan who had an amazing 83-28-5 record.

After a remarkable post boxing career in which he went 41-2, he passed away on March 23, 2009 in Mexico City. Considered by many as Mexico's first boxing "idol," his death was mourned throughout the country and a day of national mourning was declared. He had been inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1994.

Jose “Huitlacoche” Medel (1955-1974)

The “best fight the best,” and for fighting everyone and anybody and remaining competitive in the process, I am partial to the great Mexican bantamweights of the 50s and 60s. In particular, I liked Jose “El Huitlacoche” Medel who fought from 1955 to 1974 and finished with an active record of 69-31-8 with 44 ko's. Fittingly, his last fight was against future Super Bantamweight champion Royal Kobayashi in Tokyo.

“El Huitlacoche” was never a world champion, but he met the very best of his era's flyweights and bantamweights. In the tradition of ring warriors from Tepito, he never backed down from a tough opponent; he was one rugged customer as reflected by his deceptive final record of 69-31-8.

Rubén “El Púas” Olivares (1965-1988)

This legendary KO artist and multiple world champion finished with a remarkable 88 -13 1 record with 77 KO wins and a KO percentage of 74.04. Among his victims were such powerhouses as Bobby Chacon, "Chucho" Castillo, Jose Luis Ramirez, Lionel Rose, the aforementioned Medel, Jesus Pimentel, Kid Pascualito, and Efren Torres. In all, he won the World WBC and WBA Featherweight Championships and the WBC and WBA Bantamweight World Titles as well.

He went undefeated in his first 61 bouts (60-0-1) until losing to “Chucho” Castillo. This was during a time when such greats as Castillo, Chacon, Medel, Pimentel, and Danny “Little Red” Lopez were doing their thing; it was a grand time for boxing in Mexico and on the West Coast.

Considered by many as the greatest bantamweight champion of all time, he was inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1985 and the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1991. He also is number 12 on Ring Magazine's list of 100 greatest punchers of all time.

Octavio “Famoso” Gomez (1966-1977)

“Famoso” was a bit of a globe trotter and often would fight in his opponent’s home town. Like Medel. his level of his opposition was off the charts and included such great as Katsuyoshi Takayama whom he beat in only his seventh bout), Olivares, Efren Torres, “Kid” Pascualito, fellow Tepito native Rodolfo Martinez, Alfredo Marcano, Art Hafey, Rafael Herrera, and “Little Red” Lopez. He won his last five bouts and ended up with an old school record of 58-19-5. But he was more than an old school veteran; he was a tough son of Tepito who was willing to duke with the best and more than held his own.

Carlos “Caña” Zarate (1970-1988)

Nothing defines this bomber’s career more that what happened when he iced Alfonso Zamora in four sizzling rounds on a hot California night at the Forum on April 23, 1977. Zarate was 46-0 with an astounding 45 KO victories. His opponent and slight favorite was 28-0 record with 28 consecutive knockouts. That’s an amazing combined ring record of 74 wins with 73 wins coming by knockout. These were two guys who could send their opponents into zzzzzzzz’s at any time in a fight.

Zarate’s great career as a boxer/puncher was distinguished in many ways including being the only fighter to put together two streaks of 20 or more KOs wins in a row. The bomber is also on Ring Magazine’s list of 100 greatest punchers as number 21.

With an astounding final mark of 66 (KO 63)-4 (KO2) and an eye popping KO percentage of 90, “Caña” was 50-0 when he lost his first fight to the great Wilfredo Gomez (21-0-1 at the time). After losing a highly controversial decision to Lupe Pintor, he retired for seven years but came back in 1986 and won twelve straight before losing a TD to Jeff Fenech in Australia. Curiously, three of his four losses came at the hands of future Hall of Fame inductees. Zarate himself was inducted into the Hall 1994 and the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1996.

Rodolfo Martinez (1965-1979)

This Tepiteño fought his first 22 bouts in Mexico City before losing by MD to Rafael Herrera in a bid for the vacant NABF bantamweight title. He then won seven straight and was 35-1-1 when he again fought Herrera in 1973 with the vacant WBC bantamweight title at stake. This time, he would be stopped in 12 in a classic battle in which both warriors hit the deck.

He finally caught up with Herrera in 1974 and TKOd him in four to capture the WBC bantamweight title. He defended his title four times before losing it to Zarate in 1976. After losing his Mexico bantamweight title to Roberto “Kid” Rubaldino, he bounced back with his last great win, a seventh round TKO over undefeated Mike Ayala in Mike’s home town of San Antonio. He retired in 1979 with a tally of 44-7-1 and an equally impressive KO percentage of 67.32.

There are many other Tepiteños who made their mark in the ring (including the great Marco Antonio Barrera), but when one thinks of El barrio bravo de Tepito, the names of “El Raton,” “El Púas,” “Caña, “Huitlacoche,” “Famoso” and “Kid Azteca” over shadow everything else. These hard men embodied the nature of Tepito from the ‘50s through the ‘80s. After all, boxing and Tepito were synonymous back in the day.

HOW TO KEEP FROM TALKIN'

By Roger Esty

My father's favorite fighter was Carmen Basilio. Carmen was Italian and a Marine in World War II. That was more than enough to pass my father's listhmus test. I remember when Carmen beat Tony DeMarco.My father was screamin' for Carmen to kill him. It wasn't like DeMarco wasn't a dago. It was the Marine in Carmen that got my father's vote. My dad was at Pelilieu and Okinawa in the Big One. Only 3000 Marines were in both those battles. I don't know ,but DMarc probably wasn't a Leatherneck. Neither was Marciano. Now if those two guys were fighting a non spaghetti eater ,it would have been different with the old man I'm sure.

I'm pretty much on the side of the goombas,but not like my dad was. When Billy Backus won the title from Jose Napoles on a cut I was down in the dumps. Jose knew he was in Billy's back yard and before Napoles could put the hurt on Backus they stepped in and the title changed hands.

The rematch was in L.A. and i was pretty confident Mantequilla would put the crown back on his head before the night was over. Jose got cut seconds into the fight,but when Dick Young called the doc over to look at Backus after 8 rounds they might have inspected Jose's gloves for containing razor blades.

The replay of the fight was on TV the following week. I wanted my father to watch the great Mantequilla in action. He obliged. I had told him that Napoles won the fight and we were going to watch the replay. My father asked me who was Napoles fighting. When I said he was fighting an Italian by the name of Billy Backus who was trained by his uncle Carmen Basilio,my father astonished me by saying that Backus was going to win.
"Carmen wouldn't take on a fighter who was going to lose."
Maybe my dad was losing his hearing.
"This is a relay. Backus loses."
"Naw,you watch . Any fighter handled by Basilio is gonna' win. You watch."

Well we're watchin' and I'm thinking what is my father going to say when he sees Backus get pulverized. After Billy was on the seat of his pants for the second time and the ref and the doctor halt it,I look over to my father.
"Well son, wouldn't a nice salami sandwich on Italian bread taste good right now?"

What the hell? My father knew I wouldn't be saying nothing with a salami sandwich in my mouth.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Parnassus . . .

"What was George Parnassus like?"
Bennie


Bennie....I liked George Parnassus and had a little time to become familiar with him. However, the man to answer the question properly is Hap Navarro, as both were matchmaking & promoting at the same time here in Los Angeles. Hap knew George well, professionally & personally. I know that when George left the Olympic Boxing Club in the mid-60's, he wanted Hap to work with him and his new Forum Boxing Club, which put on some of the most exciting boxing promotions I would ever see.

I know that Parnassus was just a teenager when he settled in Los Angeles after arriving from Greece. He found a job at the Alexandria Hotel, which was L.A.'s best hotel at the time, a place where Presidents and Kings would reside temporarily when visiting the City of Angels. Decades later, when the Alexandria had fallen on hard times, Parnassus would use that as his Los Angeles base and headquarters, it was where he'd have his office, at least in the beginning as his reign as promoter for the Forum in the late 60's-to-'mid-70's. Around 1970, when the Alexandria was being refurbished, Parnassus moved his headquarters a few blocks west to the Elks Building, a monolithic structure right across from MacArthur Park, near Wilshire & Alvarado.

Paranassus favorite fighter was his greatest attraction, Enrique Bolanos. George still had a Greek acsent, in his 70's, when I met him. He was serious, in charge, had a great deal of class and was highly respected. His son was high up in the Catholic Church, his closest associates (that I knew of) were manager Suey Welch and his attorney, Paul Caruso, and L.A. Mayor Sam Yorty.

Suey mentioned to George that I loved boxing history. This is back in 1971, when I was 19. George had a lot of old Referee and KO Magazines, like what Frank posts here for us. When he was ready to toss the mags out in the trash he asked if I would like to go thru them first and take what I might want. I took it all. Damn, Bennie, I wish I still had the stuff. There were programs to some of his greatest fights, photos of he with Bolanos, and a lot of stuff with Cal & Aileen Eaton.

I remember being invited to George's office for a luncheon he had arrainged for a few of his friends. The place was like a "who's who" of Los Angeles and world boxing royality. I was a sparring partner for Ruben Olivares at the time, an L.A. prelim kid. I sat quietly and looked around the room, occasionally standing to take a close look at the dozens of 8x10 black & white photos hanging from the walls, sitting framed on shelves. I was a guest, via Suey Welch, who knew I'd get a kick out of the company I'd be keeping before doing downstairs to the ballroom and preparing for my workout with the world banatmweight champ.

The first in the door was former middleweight champ "Gorilla" Jones (who had been Suey's fighter) and he was laughing along with the guy he entered with, Mushy Callahan. Then Lou Nova walks in, well dressed in a nice suit, looking more like a life insurance salesman than a guy who'd twice KOed Max Baer. Enrique Bolanos arrived laughing as well, entering almost side-by-side with his greatest opposition, the great lightweight king, Ike Williams. Before I could get too excited at the site of the great Williams (who at the time was my all-time favorite lightweight champ), in walks Henry Armstrong, listening intently to the guy who he entered with, former welter king Jimmy McLarnin. With them was one of Jimmy's early opponents and best friends, Billy Wallace. Noble "Kid" Chissell (from the Cauliflower Alley Club) walked in along with former wrestler & film star, Mike Mazurki. Mazurki I'd come to know pretty good as he owned the Cafe downstairs off of the Lobby to the Elks Building. Suey Welch resided in the Elk's building, as did a number of boxing personaalities of the era. Mazurki would cater Parnassus' Luncheon, and the tab would be picked up by Jerry McCauley. Jerry was a gangster and silent partner with Suey Welch in the management of myself and welterweight, Gil King. Jerry loved to throw his money around and always carried a roll of 100's almost the size of his gold Cadillac.

The room was packed, I sat on the arm to the sofa most of the time I was there. The conversation was rich and I learned a lot that day. Parnassus had helped in clearing up some difficulties I was having with another manager. Something that was presenting itself as a problem was quickly eliminated when Parnassus stepped in. George had power. I always knew him as serious and in control. I respected the man a great deal.

I wish I could let you in on more than my simple memories of George Parnassus, however, I never had the day-to-day dealings with this boxing icon as some have. I do know this, Bennie, I value the moments and memories I have of George Parnassus.

Rick Farris

TOUGH

By Roger Esty

It's no secret. Fighters,especially if they're on top,have a following. Sugar Ray had the entourage. Ali had the Bundinis. Los Campeones Latinos had everyone South Of The Border that wanted to buy them a drink. Sure if you're around the champ,then that makes you a little tougher.To be a man you have to be tough even if you have to walk along side the Champ.

But how tough does the Champ feel? During the build up he tells the world to watch their ass,but that's to kick up the kitty. In private. Around everyday people,they're like everyone else. Did you know that guy over there is the Champ? Couldn't tell.

I've been around some fighters. Maybe they weren't all Champs,but they were tough. I don't think they asked themselves that question. I mean you're stepping into the ring. Tough comes into the ring with you or you wind up teaching physical education in middle school.

I don't think I ever had a conversation with a fighter who talked about how tough he was. Oh,I've heard them talk about the guys they fought and what tough son of a bitches they were,but their own toughness? Naw.

You've heard the stories. The drunk in the bar who feels he's got enough liquid courage in him to ask a fighter to step outside. And you know the outcome. That's why a fighters' hands are registered as weapons.

Friday, May 15, 2009

THE LUNCH PAIL

By Roger Esty

Moyer called me up and asked if I'd have lunch with him. He was working at Goodyear's a few blocks from the Coliseum. I said I'd be over around noon time. I'd been out drinking with him and Pat Vetere the night before. All I knew was I was glad I didn't have to go to work the next day.

Denny was scrubbing his hands and toweling them off when I walked in.
"Rog,you want to go across the street and eat Mexican food?"
"Sure."
Goodyear's was a couple of blocks west of the Coliseum where Moyer was to fight in a week.
"I wouldn't have asked you to come down,but I left my lunch pail in my locker at the Coliseum. I was feeling so good last night I forgot about it."

We walked across the street and found an empty booth by the window. Ofelia,the waitreess, came over. She was wearing a skirt that was too short for her age,but wasn't a bit shy about revealing what she had left.
"Hola Deeny. Como estas baby?"
Moyer grinned up at her. He was still good looking despite what the ring had taken away from him.
"Pretty good senorita."
They both laughed. Denny didn't pick up the menu.
"I'll have the Rancho Grande Special with 3 rolled tacos on the side and a bottle of beer."
"What kind of beer honey?"
"The one with the most booze in it",answered the Irishman.
I put down my menu.
"Just give me the 3 rolled tacos and a Coke."
Ofelia walked to the kitchen. She moved her hips to show us she still could make us pay attention.

"How you feel after last night?"I asked him.
"I've got a head,but the food should square me away."
"What's Sid got to say?"
"Haven't talked to him in a week."

Ofelia came over with the food. She set two big plates in front of Denny and put a basket with the rolled tacos in front of me.
"I come back boys with the drinks",said Ofelia.
Again she walked that walk. We both looked as she walked to the counter.

"Rog,I wish I liked fighting today like I like drinking."
"Why don't you slow down with it?"
"Why stop now? I don't have it anymore anyways."
Denny started to chomp away at an enchilada. The food on his dish was spilling over the sides.
"You know Rog you think I'd have put enough away to not be fighting anymore."
Ofelia came over with the beer and the Coke.
"Deeny baby. I watch you fight Friday. You win for me ?"
"Sure bonita. I got enough left in me to beat this guy."
Ofelia was very happy to hear him say that.
"After I win,I take you out dancing."
"Oh Deeny baby you are my macho man."
Another customer walked in. Ofelia went to his table.

"Rog. How in the hell was I gonna' stop drinkin' when I took my dough and opened a bar?I must have bought everyone in the world a drink. Are the Irish dumb,or not? Now I have to bust tires to pay my rent."
I didn't answer. I looked at his face. The baby face was gone. He was still good looking,but the scar tissue and the broken veins in his nose told his age. He couldn't fool anyone anymore.


We finished eating. Denny washed down his food with the remainder of his beer.


After eating, Moyer looked at me in the eye.
"Rog,I must have left my wallet in my lunch pail. Pick up the check."

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

DUSTY FACES

By Roger Esty

"Can I help you sir?",asked the blond haired guy behind the counter.
"No,"I said,"I just came in to look at the old fight pictures on the wall."
Jerome's Furniture Warehouse used to be the Coliseum that featured a weekly card of boxing and wrestling matches. During the late 70's when Pay Per View and Cable came into existence,the small rings like the Coliseum dimmed their lights forever. After old man Navarro padlocked the door,he turned the responsibilities over to his son Jerome.

The family was in the furniture business. Jerome converted the old Coliseum into a furniture warehouse.
"Oh go ahead and look at them,"said the blond haired fellow."They've been up there ever since I started working here."

The pictures were hung behind the counter. A dusty film was on the glass frames. Some of the pictures were hanging crookedly.
"You know who those guys are?"asked the counterman.
I recognized all of the fighters.All the photographs were in black and white. There were several photographs of Archie Moore. One of a young Archie having his hand raised by the referee. A towel was draped around his shoulders and beads of perspiration were dripping down 'ol Arch's happy face.There was even one of Archie shaking hands with Doc Kearns. I saw the Hogue brothers squaring off against each other wearing big grins. Kenny Norton was posing his sculptured body with a regal aire. Muhammad Ali wearing a headgear was the first picture in the row.

There were wrestlers too. Blassie,Andre The Giant,and Mr. Moto. The guy behind the counter had addressed a customer who had walked in as I was looking at the old photographs. The customer had a receipt in his hand.

The blond hair guy got on a microphone and called the warehouse to say that the customer had come to pick up his sofa.I walked back towards the counterman.
"Yeah,I recognize them all."
"Who?" he asked squinting his eyes.
"The pictures on the wall."
"Oh yeah,they've been up there ever since I started working here,"he said.

Monday, May 11, 2009

To Mr. Enrique Bolanos

By Rick Farris

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I've heard so much about this great fighter. Can you imagine being this good and still not being good enough to beat the champ?
How good was the champ? Ike Williams was pretty damn perfect, I'd say.
Strong statement when you consider names like Duran, (Benny) Leonard, Gans, Armstrong, etc.
We had a good one in Mando Ramos, but Bolanos was a great one. I see similarities, but Bolanos was a cut above.
In our day we had "El Gato", but Rodolfo was hidden in the shadows for years, another victim of the era, until he finally got a title shot.
Today I watch Bolanos and Ike Williams on YouTube. I get a quick peak at this L.A. great of years gone by.
Hap publicized Bolanos, made his matches and promoted him.
Frank sat ringside with his dad and uncle at local venues, saw him fight Williams three times for the title. Saw him at the Legion and Olympic.
I came too late to enjoy those moments, but I had a few of my own. Still, I'm a little envious of our two amigos, Hap & Frank.

If boxing experiences were like baseball cards we could trade them. In that case, I could offer up a couple Mando Ramos fights, throw in a Jerry Quarry bout and one Indian Red Lopez-Hedge Lewis match in trade for a Bolanos main event at the Legion, any bout would do.

Of course, Frank already has those in his collection, so I'd have to find somebody else. It just won't work.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

A Champion's Smile . . .

Floyd Patterson vs Calvin Brad

Frank . . . My late friend, Karl Nelson, told me of seeing this bout, which was Patterson's L.A. debut.
I remember him saying that he was impressed with the speed and power of Floyd, who came out quick and put Brad on the deck twice, winning by KO in the first round.

I recall a dozen years later, seeing Patterson live for the first time myself, when he came to L.A. twice to fight Jerry Quarry.
Although a solid fan of my stablemate Jerry, I had always had a special respect for Patterson after reading his biography, "Victory Over Myself".
My grandfather drove me down to Santa Monica, where Patterson had set up training camp at the Surfrider Hotel.
I watched from a distance his every move. I didn't recognize his sparring partners, some from back east.
After his workout, my grandfather encouraged me to introduce myself to the former champ, but I declined.
I felt it would be disingenious, as I would be pulling for Jerry to KO him the following week. Stupid kid, huh?

I had just watched Sonny Liston workout a few months earlier at the Main Street Gym. Now Patterson. It couldn't be any better for me.
After Patterson had finished, he walked by, wiping his face with a small white towel.
I was standing right in front of him when he passed, and as he dropped the towel from his face, I looked into his eyes.
He glanced down at me, I rarely smiled at fighters and likely had my poker face on, however, when he smiled at me, I felt myself smile back.

It was just like what happened with Liston. Patterson had been serious during his workout, but acknowledged a kid with his only smile of that afternoon.
I was a serious kid, when it came to boxing and fighters. I wasn't a happy, smiling, easy going boy.

After Patterson passed by me, I was smiling the rest of the day.

Rick Farris

Golden finish for best boxers

By Amy Donaldson

Deseret News

Published: Sunday, May 10, 2009

Like most fathers, Jose Benavidez hoped his son would be good at sports.

It turned out his son was gifted, but not in the sports he first attempted.

"I tried to put him in other sports like t-ball and basketball, but he really was not good at those," said the elder Benavidez, who coached his son to a 141-pound National Title at the 2009 Golden Gloves National Championship Saturday night at the Salt Palace.

More than 12,000 boxing fans flocked to the Salt Palace to watch the week-long iconic tournament featuring more than 300 fighters from around the country.

At 16, Benavidez has already won more than 100 bouts and earned four national titles.

In addition to earning an individual title, Benavidez Junior was part of Nevada's team title.

Utahn Alex Canez was awarded the sportsmanship award for the 178-pound division.

Jesus Magdaleno, Nevada, won the Bill Daniels Courage Award for "courage both inside and outside the ring."

"It's an honor ... I can't even find the words," said the teen, who said he got into a lot of trouble before taking up boxing. "It's so great.

He earned a $1,500 scholarship and a championship at 119 pounds Saturday night.

Louie Byrd, Colorado-New-Mexico, won the Golden Boy Award, which was presented by Utah's own Gene Fullmer, as well as the 112-pound title in one of the night's most exciting fights.

"The competition was a lot firmer and stiffer this year," said Byrd, who won a National Golden Gloves title at 106 pounds last year. "That was a tough fight. I know he knew he had to step up his game ... I just needed to take care of it."

His dream is to earn a spot on the U.S. Olympic Team in 2012.

"I know as a small guy, it would be tough for me to make it as a professional," said Byrd, who was introduced to boxing by his sister.

"My dad asked me to get in the gym to stay in shape for football and I just fell in love with it," he said.

Byrd's friend, Robert Rodriguez won the 125-pound title.

"I boxed as a child," said Jeff Rodriguez, "and I grew up across the street from our gym."

Robert asked his father if he could tag along, and finally he agreed.

"I really didn't want him to," said the senior Rodriguez. "It's a crazy life. But I signed him up for the Junior Olympics and he won the whole thing. Now it's 11 years later."

As the amateur boxing tournament is a non-profit event, organizers are still accepting tax-deductable donations. The money goes to cover the costs of hosting the tournament and to support local boxing clubs. Contributions can be sent to Rocky Mountain Golden Gloves at 9720 S. 1300 East W200, Sandy, Utah, 84094.

E-MAIL: adonaldson@desnews.com

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Boxer’s brother vows to keep fighting

Younger Flores says sibling's death won't deter him

By DAVID BARRON Copyright 2009 Houston Chronicle
May 8, 2009,

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Michael Campbell For the Chronicle
Benjamin Flores, left, defeated Wayne Fletcher by sic-round decision in this Oct. 28, 2005 bout in Houston. Flores, 25, died Tuesday at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas of injuries sustained in a bout five days earlier.

Family members of Benjamin Flores, the Houston boxer who died Tuesday after collapsing in the ring following a May 1 fight in Dallas, will receive visitors from 3 to 9 p.m. today at Funeraria Del Angel Funeral Home, 5100 North Fwy.

Mass will be celebrated at noon Saturday at St. Charles Borromeo Catholic Church, 501 Tidwell Rd.

Flores, 25, will be buried in Michoacan, Mexico.

The younger brother of Houston boxer Benjamin Flores said Wednesday he will continue in the sport and hopes to win a world title in honor of his brother, who died five days after collapsing in the ring after a fight in Dallas.

Miguel Flores, who will turn 17 in July, said he and his family are coping as well as could be expected in the wake of Benjamin Flores’ death early Tuesday at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas.

Benjamin “El Michoacano” Flores had been hospitalized since Thursday night after collapsing in the ring at the conclusion of a fight against Al Seeger, 29, of Savannah, Ga., at the Hilton Anatole Hotel.

Referee Laurence Cole stopped the fight at 2:10 of the eighth round. Flores and Seeger were fighting for the North American Boxing Federation’s super bantamweight title as part of a charity benefit fight night at the hotel.

Miguel Flores, a junior at Sam Houston High School who, like his brother, fights at 120 pounds, said he has fought about 100 amateur bouts and plans to continue in the sport despite his brother’s death.

“I will win the world title for my brother,” he said. “Any sport has risks, you know. It’s part of life. Everywhere you go, you take a risk.”

Prior to Benjamin’s death, Miguel Flores said he was considering plans to turn pro when he turns 17 in two months and had hoped that he and his brother could fight on the same card.

Flores also was mourned by 2000 Olympic silver medalist Rocky Juarez, who said the boxer’s death drives home the inherent dangers of the sport.

“He was a nice, humble man who was raised right and had a good family and a lot of support,” Juarez said. “We know the possible consequences when we step into the ring, but you never think this could happen to you or your friends.”

Services are pending for Benjamin Flores, whose death will be investigated by Texas Department of Licensing and Regulation, which sanctions combative sports in the state.

A memorial fund has been established by the Real Estate Council of Dallas; contributions can be sent to Benjamin Flores Memorial Fund. ATTN: Sabrina Jaramillo, Guaranty Bank, 2nd Floor – TMSS, 8333 Douglas Ave., Dallas, TX 75225.

david.barron@chron.com

Friday, May 8, 2009

SLY MONGOOSE

By Roger Esty

Boxing,jazz,food,and women were ol' Arch's priorities of thought as I could tell. Not necessarily in that order. I'm sure he switched them around when the mood told him. However as his beard grew more gray,his involvement with kids I think edged into that category. It was something he could give back.His life experiences. What he had seen. That was important to him.

I used to watch him fight on TV when I was a kid. The first Durelle fight might have gotten more people hooked on boxing than any other fight of that decade. When I finally stumbled upon knowing him a little many years later,I don't think boxing was as much a preference as teaching what he had learned from his life as a boxer.

Archie Moore believed that a man's word was the the most valued commodity a person could acquire. I'll pass this along again because the person who told me this story recently passed away. Bobby Rodriguez was a kid in San Diego when Moore was about to fight Marciano for the title. Bobby grew up in the fields in the San Jouquin Valley picking lettuce with his parents to help make things meet. While Bobby was working in the fields he came down with TB.

Bobby was sent to the TB ward at County Hospital down in San Diego. Archie Moore(for whatever reason)came to visit the patients. Bobby told me everyone was excited. Just seeing Archie smile made all the sick kids happy.

Well Archie promised those kids he'd win the heavy weight title. And when he won that title, he'd come back and show the belt to the kids. Well we know what happened.

But Archie came back anyway. He'd promised the kids he'd return,but he wasn't wearing the crown. Bobby told me that Archie felt he had let those kids down. Hell,those boys were just happy to see their favorite fighter.

Bobby used to own the Elbo Rest Bar in National City. i bet he had told that story more than a thousand times. And I bet he loved to tell it. When I last saw Bobby he was in the death grasp of diabetes. You knew it was going to get him. Then a few months ago I saw the "For Sale" sign on the door. The panaderia guy next door said that Bobby had died. The family was selling the place.

Too bad the panaderia guy didn't have the key. I wanted to sit at the bar with a cold one and have Bobby run that story one more time by me.

The Pacman-Hitman Experience

By Michele Chong

Something for everyone during the Vegas weekend!

Proclaimed “The Battle of East and West,” the Pacquiao-Hatton fight offered a little something for everyone as both Filipino and British fans all converged at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. The marquee matchup featuring Manny Pacquiao (49-3-2, 37 KOs) versus Ricky Hatton (45-2-0, 32 KOs) brought out hordes of people all anticipating a possible fight of the year.

There’s nothing quite like a big fight weekend in Vegas: It’s exciting, overwhelming, exhausting, and just plain crazy–I love it!

Here’s a rundown of my experiences this past weekend in Sin City.

Friday: It’s weigh-in day!

Arriving in town late Thursday night and staying on the Strip at Bally’s, I’m excited to get to the MGM for the official weigh-in. My boyfriend and I always enjoy seeing all of our boxing pals during the high-profile fights. Imagine running into tons of your favorite friends all at the same time, in one location, and at a great event. Outside of the MGM we meet a cheerful, shirtless bloke from London who is wearing only white sneakers, thin cotton shorts and a red and white flag. He’s soaking up the desert sun and happy to be at the fight. He says, “There are four of us here from England. We all came out for the Malignaggi fight too. Before Vegas, we went to L.A. and got to visit the Wild Card gym.” I ask him what songs they’re planning to sing. “The ‘Wonderland’ song is our favorite, but we have lots of new ones we’ll be singing too!” he promises us as we enter the front desk area where the MGM gold lion is perched in a boxing ring. Everyone’s in great spirits, some donning Ricky Hatton masks while anticipating the action. It’s a blast.

The arena fills up quickly. I meet a lovely blonde couple from Manchester who tell me they’re in Vegas for a whole week. They paid 600 pounds each ($900 in U.S. currency) for the flight and hotel room. Pretty good deal to be part of this once-in-a-lifetime weekend. The Hatton band is there and apparently the whole British empire! I love being around the visitors from the U.K. We were at the Mayweather-Hatton fight and meeting the Englishmen was a fun highlight of that trip. I couldn’t wait to hear and see what the fellows would do as their hometown hero faces the best pound-for-pound boxer out there.

Forgot to disclose that I was recovering from a bad case of bronchitis (with a bruised rib and strained muscle). I only feel the piercing pain when I breathe, eat, drink, walk, talk, and laugh! Since I’m pass the contagious phase, I tough it out because I don’t want to miss out on this historic matchup. And if you want a quick cure for what ails you–hang out with the Brits, the most jolly chaps you’ll ever meet! Before the weigh-in, the singing begins and they do indeed have a ton of new songs besides their “Hatton Wonderland” tune. Backed by the Hatton band of musicians, the Great Britain residents alternate between their national anthem of “God Save the Queen” to several other humorous ditties they’ve all memorized. Such a fun, friendly bunch!

While waiting for the boxers to hop on the scales, the Manchester pair explain the English football club rivalries between Manchester United (Red) and Manchester City (Blue). Ricky’s father and grandfather both played for Man City and that’s why he dons the light blue trunks. And the Manchester City Football Club was well-represented with plenty of MCFC flags, shirts and banners waved throughout the masses. But, during a Hatton fight, Man United and Man City put aside their differences and become one unit–no hooligans today. Ricky’s the one uniting force between the sworn enemies who all wave their Union Jack flags with national pride.

The weigh-in begins as Michael Buffer starts the event saying, “We just got word that the swine flu went to visit the Philippines and the U.K. and NO ONE was there!” The audience laughs and cheers as the action gets underway. Actor Mario Lopez, Oscar De La Hoya, Shane Mosley, Bernard Hopkins, Juan Manuel Marquez, Amir Khan and Juan Diaz are all introduced to the crowd. The Brits serenade the “Golden Boy” with a couple of songs in appreciation for the newly-retired champ who tells the crowd, “I’m glad I retired so I could go have a pint!”

But 99.9% of the love is saved for only one: Ricky Hatton. “Who are ya, who are ya, who are ya” was the steady chant often heard rumbling through the audience when anyone–not named Hatton–manned the microphone. In this case, “Who are ya” turns out to be the equivalent of “politely” saying “Get the f— off the stage, we want Ricky!”

Once the “Hitman” appears, bedlam ensues. At the weigh-in, there is a small section of fans from General Santos City and Manila, but the majority of the volume comes from the Brits.

After the weigh-in, we head out into the parade of Brits, Filipinos, and more. There are a lot of wacky outfits being shown off; it’s a costume party similar to the famous Comic-Con Convention! There’s a little something for everyone: boxing icons and legends, rising stars of the sport, superhero characters, TV and film celebrities, scantily-clad girls, cheerleaders, both female and male (in skirts and wigs!), energy drink models and tons of flag-waving, beer-carrying, happily-singing Brits.

Two other Filipino fighters get noticed near the casino: Nonito Donaire and Brian Viloria, who are both coming off of their April victories. Nonito and wife Rachel need a bodyguard to wade through the crowd as the fans flock around the flyweight. Juan “Baby Bull” Diaz is also a crowd favorite who poses for photos with the fans.

We leave the MGM to go to the fights at South Point and I’m looking forward to visiting this hotel for the first time–I hear they even have a bowling alley and full-sized movie theater in the casino. A lot of our friends go to the Hard Rock to catch the Urbano Antillon fight and the Alfonso Gomez undercard and I ask them to call me with results. The action at South Point is great! Four amazing fights and the whole Wild Card bunch is there. I’ll have more on that in the next article.

Saturday: It’s Fight Day!

Our hotel is connected to the Paris Las Vegas Hotel so we go to their famous Le Village Buffet. Loading up on carbs seems like a good idea at the time. We make our way to the MGM which is now at a frenzied pitch. We meet two of our friends and they introduce us to the classy Carlos “Famoso” Hernandez who passes by our group. The crowd is growing fast, and today it’s the Filipino fans who seem more vocal, buoyant, confident, rowdy and energetic, just like the hearty contingent of Brits were at yesterday’s weigh-in. Perhaps this was a sign of things to come. There’s a Tecate girl who’s handing out stickers that say Hatton and Pacquiao. We ask her which sticker has been requested more and surprisingly, it’s Pacquiao. I thought for sure the Brits outnumbered the Filipino fans.

Pacman’s crossover appeal transcends the sport. He’s a cultural icon to a whole nation. The only thing I can compare it to is “Fernandomania” with L.A. Dodger Fernando Valenzuela, back when the Dodger pitching sensation took over the city. Before we left for Vegas, we spoke with Pear from Enterprise where we picked up an econo car to make the trek to Nevada. She’s married to a Filipino and has become a hardcore Pacquiao fan. She summed up the country’s passion for Pacman. “I’ve never seen a sport where the whole race supports the athlete. Even if you’re not necessarily a boxing fan, you still have to watch Manny. It’s incredible.” Pear tells us she and her husband will be watching the fight at the Montalbán Theatre in Hollywood. The theatre houses the Nike store (where limited-edition Pacman shirts sold out in record time) and has become the official Pacquiao fan headquarters.

Once in the arena, I notice that there’s a lot of SOBER Brits! During the Mayweather fight, the Hatton fanatics were seen camping out with trays of beer; the MGM even ran out of suds during the fight! The lines were long and the Englishmen patiently waited to cart off several beers at a time. Now I see that they only have one beer in their hand or none at all! Not sure if it’s the recession but I don’t see the beer-fueled revelry that I witnessed during the Mayweather weekend. I miss the crazy Englishmen!

Before the fight, most of the people we chatted with thought Pacman would win, but many were pulling for the underdog Hatton. My boyfriend commented, “Everyone loves Ricky Hatton!” as many wondered if an upset was possible (like Hopkins-Pavlik, Pacquiao-De La Hoya, Mosley-Margarito). At the time, the consensus was that the fight would be a classic. Sadly, no one expected Ricky to be flat on his back in just under six minutes.

During the undercards (including a Humberto “Zorrita” Soto fight), we meet a lot of Pacquiao fans from San Francisco, Chicago and Seattle. Many admit that they don’t watch a lot of boxing unless the Filipino sensation is involved. When asked if they follow any other Filipino fighters, the majority says no–just Manny, only Manny.

Everyone’s anticipating the eventual showdown between the Pacman and the Hitman. The arena of over 16,000 erupts when the two superstar combatants enter the arena. Ricky looks eager in the ring and Manny looks loose, smiling a lot. The two 30-year-old face off–and the rest is a blur. Unfortunately, Ricky took a ride on the “Pac-Man Express.” It was brutal, it was quick, as predicted by trainer Freddie Roach.

During the first round, everyone was shocked to see Ricky go down face first. I couldn’t believe it happened so fast. Then after the second knockdown, the sad realization hit that this was not going to be a classic 12-round war. We all knew then that it was just a matter of time. The highly-anticipated showdown quickly became a big letdown. The Brits were paralyzed in the moment while the Filipinos were awed by Pacman’s supremacy in the ring.

And when the southpaw delivered that left hook in the second round, it was a shot heard ’round the world. Pacquiao’s blinding hand speed and devastating power was too much for Hatton, who was outmanned, outgunned and out cold on the canvas–lights out. It all happened so quickly that I never even sat down, there was no need to sit down. The jaw-dropping knockout–in just two quick rounds–broke thousands of hearts Across the Pond.

Pacquiao, the country’s National Treasure, secures his idol status as the Filipinos cheer wildly. The Brits are stunned, still clutching their royal flags. Walking out of the arena, everyone is heard saying, “I hope Ricky’s okay” with everybody concerned about his health first and future in the ring second.

We walked near the sportsbook area to see the fans’ reactions. As we passed the MGM Lion Habitat exhibit, we encountered an obviously disappointed Brit, smoking a cigarette with a Manchester flag wrapped tightly around him like a comforting blanket. We acknowledged him and nodded but didn’t know what else to say. There were no words left. The lone fan stared off into the empty lion cage, seemingly in shock after Hatton’s devastating knockout at the hands of Pacman. It was a sad, shocking and surreal moment for Ricky’s fans.

Sunday: The fight aftermath…

The boxing community is still abuzz over the fight. Everyone gives Manny credit for the brutal (and some say beautiful) knockout punch delivered to Ricky. Some mention that Hatton said in the “24/7″ finale (that aired the night before the fight) that he didn’t want his young son to see him get knocked out. It turned out to be a prophetic statement from the Hitman. Many are also excited about the return of Floyd Mayweather Jr. and if he gets past Juan Manuel Marquez, then taking on the Pac-Man. I ask the Filipino fans what about Pacquiao squaring off against Mosley, Cotto, JCC Jr., perhaps even Margarito? Nope! They want their beloved idol to fight Mayweather! “Pretty Boy” Floyd vs. the “Pac-Man”–what do you think?!

Strolling the Strip, we visit Caesars Palace for a bite to eat. Vegas is back to business as usual, we don’t hear or see any fight fans through the casino. The only pugilist we find is the statue of Joe Louis that overlooks the sports zone.

Back at Bally’s, we take a break from boxing and get some pool time. On the way down, we meet Chad at the hotel’s mall area. He’s manning a cool massage store and happens to be a big Pacquiao fan. Chad, of Filipino descent, tells us that after he watched the PPV broadcast, he and his buddies went to the Mandalay Bay for the post-fight party where you could hear Pacquiao sing karaoke. He said tickets were $20, the line was super long, and Manny only sang three songs. But all in attendance were just thrilled to be near their hero, the “People’s Champion.”

Poolside at Bally’s is awesome! It’s nice to be a tourist sometimes and enjoy the hotel’s fun pool atmosphere. We grab some chairs and enjoy the sunshine and sights. There’s a dance contest on stage, an air guitar contest, and a bikini contest during the afternoon. It’s a party by the pool, and a good chance to recuperate from all the boxing excitement. Three college boys pass by wearing plastic guitars filled with a slushy booze concoction that come handily equipped with an oversized straw. For $35, these “guitar heroes” can still shred while slurping down the pink cocktail. It was a very funny “only in Vegas” sight that reminds me why millions flock to this city.

While sunbathing, I hear some guys talk about Hatton’s future, wondering if he will retire. Then the talk turns to Pacquiao’s future. Again, the name Mayweather seems the desired opponent mentioned the most.

I always have a grand time in Vegas, it really does offer something for everyone! Of course, gambling is in the equation, so I give the slot machines one last whirl. After sitting down at a penny “Star Trek” slot, I hit a jackpot for $273! Thank you, Mr. Spock!

Before packing up for the drive back to L.A., we decide to try the French crêpes at Paris Hotel and Casino’s cobblestone walkway. OMG–they are delicious! Be sure to have one (or two) if you’re in town for the upcoming Mayweather-Marquez fight OR a future Mayweather-Pacquiao bout…IF/WHEN that happens!!!

“Cheers” to the British fans for their loyalty to Ricky Hatton and “Salamat” to the Filipino fans for their faith in their Manny Pacquiao. You all made it a memorable weekend!

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Legends in, Legends out . . .

By Rick Farris
WBHOF Director/Historian


"Who's the Hall of Fame going to induct this year?"
The question came from my buddy Dave, bartender at the Studio City 'Jerry's Deli', on Ventura Blvd., just around the corner from my place.
After taking a hit off my Heineken, I answered . . .
"This year, from my stand point, it's not about who's getting in, but rather who is already in, and seems to have slipped out."

Dave looked at me like I was crazy. I explained.
"First off, we are just in the process of mailing out the ballots, so it'll be a few weeks before we count votes for this years new World Boxing Hall of Fame inductees.
The answer satisfied his original curiosity, but my first comment left him confused. "But, uh, who slipped out?"

As the Lakers-Rockets game played out on several TV's above the bar, I attempted to explain something I really don't understand.
I told him that I am the the WBHOF's historian, and that I noticed that the 'Honor Roll' of Inductees looked a bit slim, and I found several names missing from both the "Boxer" and "Expanded" catagories.

"Do you remember Jimmy Lennon?
Not Jimmy Jr. the guy who's ring announcer for SHOWTIME boxing, but his father, the voice of the Olympic Auditorium back in the day." Dave immedialy answered, "Yeah, he was great. Wasn't he related to the Lennon sisters?" I told him, "That's right, and one of the greatest boxing announcers to ever step into a ring."
Jimmy Sr. was inducted years ago, but his name has somehow slipped off the 'Roll Call' listing all past and president WBHOF Inductees.

Dave didn't understand how that could happen. Neither could I.
In addition to Jimmy Lennon Sr., legendary boxing names such as Marciano's trainer, Charlie Goldman, managers Jack "Deacon" Hurley and Jake Shagrue, champions Ted "Kid" Lewis, Johnny Kilbain and Marty Servo, just to name a few of many.

What happened? I don't know and don't have the time or energy to find out.
My job is to dig out all the missing names, and there are dozens, and put them back onto the 'Roll Call' so it can be updated and accurate for the WBHOF's beloved, but grossly innacurate banquet program.
Before I brought the matter to the attention of the WBHOF board, nobody was aware of it, and nobody cared.

I'm no genius, but I'm smart enough to enlist the help of some of my most valued friends.
Some just happen to be boxing historians, I mean REAL boxing historians, not the guys who have anoited themselves as such after viewing a couple of Joe Louis bouts in their entirety. I've discovered that I have a talent for ferreting out the missing info, but a lot of the answers to this puzzle are being provided by a few legends in their own right, such as California Boxing HOF president and founder, Don Fraser (who was once associated with the WBHOF.)

When Don and I talked yesterday, the WBHOF Inductee in the promoter/matchmaker catagory mentioned, "I wouldn't be surprised to see my own name disappear off the ballot. I used to be a Board member, but left, and there's a guy still there who hates me".
I assured Don that his name would only be eliminated over my dead body. He then dove into the problem and helped me find a few missing legends.
I then receieved a call from John Bardelli, a successful Pacific Northwest attorney, and son of WBHOF inductee, Young Firpo.
John mentioned other names, like a detective seeking out a kidnapped child.
Dan Hanley, an "Honorary" WBHOF board member found discrepancies in the records of boxers, those who have remained on the ballot, with records far inferior to their true records.
Golden State Boxing Association founder, Ray Owens, dug up a few more.

Armed with this info. We are well into fixing the mess left behind from administrations of the past.
It became my goal last year, the moment I discovered the problem.
This year, we will have the first historically correct publication in many years. I'll take great pride in this.
I'll also take great pride in the program cover, which will feature the brilliant art of our own, Roger Esty (Dagosd).

As I looked up, I saw my friend Dave had left. The guy on the other end of the bar wanted another double vodka rocks.
He was a Rockets fan, and Kobe had just hit from the outside for three points.

Kobe isn't the only one to score big this week.
Thanks to a few amigos, I'll score a game winning shot for a few "Legends of Boxing" this year.
We're going to bring them back home, where they belong!

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

When A Boxer Dies . . .

By Rick Farris


I hate reading this. Less than two years ago, Gwen Adair invited me and an actress I was dating at the time, to the "Sage Brush Cantina" in Calabasas where a promoter was holding a pro card in the parking lot.

In a four round prelim, a mid-20's boxer from New Mexico, named Jackson Bruesell, fought on even terms with a featherweight from Oxnard. It was a good action fight, but neither appeared to be rocked, or taken any major blows. There was no blood. Both finished strong.

The decision was announced, a "draw", which was a good call. Bruesell met his opponent in the center of the ring after the decision, and the two hugged each other. He then turned and as he walked away, appeared to lose his balance. Suddenly he dropped to the canvas and lay on his back. The ringside physician, and ref Marty Denkin (who also had ref'd the Pintor-Johnny Owens ill-fated match) attend to the boxer. Others in the ring gathered around him. At first his eyes were open, then closed.

My lady friend didn't understand what was happening, but I was having chilling thoughts. I'd seen this before, more than once. We were sitting in the first row and I could see there was a problem. A stretcher was immediatly sent into the ring and the comatose young boxer removed to a waiting ambulence which had pulled within 50 yards of the ring.

My girlfriend had never attended a boxing match, and was enjoying the action until this happened. She was concerned for the boxer and I tried to calm her by saying that it was necessary to take him to the hospital "just to be safe". However, I knew the kid was in serious trouble. A tounge depressor had been put in his mouth and his face had turned blue. Oxygen was immediatly applied as carried him to the ambulence.

"Rick, let's go to the hospital, bring him flowers, or something." She said.
I told her not to worry, and that I'd call the hospital the next day, when he had time to recover. However, I knew he would never recover, not fully. I kept thinking of Johnny Owen, Kiko Bejines, Davey Moore and Richie Sandoval.

After the main event, we spoke with Gwen and Vince Delgado, who were judging the match. "Have you heard anything?" we asked.
Gwen shook her head, "Nothing yet." I could see the look in Gwen's eyes, and Vince's. They'd also seen this before.

My friend and I left, I changed the subject on the ride home, but she had been affected by what she had seen. We returned to my place, and about 3am the phone rings. It was Gwen. "Rick, he passed away. I was told he was dead on arrival."

My friend was shocked. "We were just going to see some fights, not somebody die," she said.
What could I say?

"Pedro" . . .

By Rick Farris

It was 1967 when Johnnie Flores took his top ranked featherweight contender, Dwight "The Hawk" Hawkins, down to Tampico, Mexico to face Mexican Featherweight champ, Aurielo Muniz, in a ten rounder. Hawkins would flatten Muniz in seven rounds, out cold. However, as so often is the case in Mexico (i.e. Napoles-Muniz I), the American fighter got screwed.

The officials declared that Flores cost his fighter the KO win by stepping up onto the ring canvas before the count of ten was completed. Hawkins was disqualified. After Flores protested the verdict, the bout was declared a 10rd. draw. Go figure?

While in Mexico, Hawkins used a 18-year-old sparring partner named, Pedro Rodriguez. When they returned to L.A., Pedro came with them and Hawkins' co-manager, Hal Benson, put the kid to work at the Disabled American Veterans shop in Glendale. He also gave the kid a place to live. Although just a young man, Pedro had been fighting pro since the age of fourteen and was a good fighter. He would also prove a reliable spasrring partner for the brutal punching Hawkins. When the two would square off at the Main street Gym, Pedro would wear a foam padded ski vest to protect his body from Hawkins brutal attack to the stomach and ribs.

I would get to know Pedro very well, and even would box with him at Johnnie's back yard gym in Pacoima. At the time, he hadn't yet learned English, but would communicate with my grandfather who spoke fairly fluent Spanish. My grandad would invite him to our home in Burbank for dinner on a couple of weekend occasions, and my Grandmother loved him like a grandson. We became friends, and he'd show me a few things about body punching.

About a month after arriving, he'd be matched with future bantamweight champ, Rafael Herrera, in a ten round main-event at the Olympic. Pedro fought the tough, top ranked bantam contender close in the early rounds, and gave Herrera all he could handle before dropping a decision.

A month later he would travel to San Franciso to fight another up and coming bantam in Filippino Rollie Penaroya of Stockton. Again losing a close, exciting fight, according to Johnnie. The following month, he'd headline once agagin at the Olympic, and this time fight on dead even terms with future featherweight title challenger, Jose Pimentel, twin of bantam contender Jesus.

My dad, grandfather and I were ringside for this one. Pedro whipped Pimentel and was robbed, losing a majority decision. Judge George Latka had it 5-5, a draw. The Olympic crowd showered the ring with cups of beer and booed for five minutes.

Pedro would continue to prove a hard fighting stepping stone to a number of top contenders and future world champs, In 1969, he'd travel to Osaka, Japan and take on featherweight champ, Shozo Saijyo in a non-title bout, losing a decision to the champ in a close one, according to Flores and Benson. He was then off to Caracus, Venezuela to take on another future featherweight champ, the late Cruz Marcano, once again losing after putting up a game performance.

By this time Pete was speaking English fluently and had married a lady he had met in Glendale. I was growing into a bantam myself and was now able to give him stiff competition in gym workouts. I remember after our last workout looking into his dark eyes. He looked tired. His eyebrows were now laced with scar tissue, his nose flattened, he was starting to look like an old fighter, however his voice was still young and his boyish smile still in tact. He was barely 21.

He pulled me aside and in perfect English pointed out something about my defense. As always, after each workout, he would turn coach. It was great that we could now communicate better. In the beginning, our conversation hinged on my broken Spanish, now he spoke perfect English. During those years since Johnny brought him to L.A. he continued to work regularly with Hawkins, right up to the time "The Hawk" retired in '69. That in itself would ruin any fighter. He'd also go on the road, fighting the best in their hometowns, places like Honolulu, Oakland, San Bernardino, San Antonio, San Jose and his very last stop, San Diego.

In S.D., he'd end his career in a place I have come to call "The Graveyard" for L.A. fighters, the Coliseum. He took some time off when his wife had a baby, and had found a good job in a machine shop off San Fernando Road near Lincoln Heights. I didn't see him for months until one day he showed up at the Main Street Gym, shortly before I made my pro debut. His hand was in a cast. I immediatly went over to Pedro to say "hello" and asked about his hand.

"It got stuck in a piece of machinery at work, and I lost a thumb and a finger", he said. "Now I'll be a trainer." There was no sign of sadness or self pity over the crippling, career ending accident. Another baby was on the way. The smile was still ever present.

My grandfather had passed two years previous, and Pedro had joined Johnnie Flores at the funeral. My grandmother cried when I told her of Pedro's accident. "That poor boy. Please tell him he and his family are welcome for dinner. Grandpa loved him." Flores put Pedro in charge of working with me for a couple of weeks, but then he just disappeared. To my knowledge, he never returned to the gym.

I have a feeling things turned out OK for Pedro and his family. This man was a survivor, and always had that smile on his face. However, I never saw any of his opponents smiling after they fought him.

While reflecting on days gone by, the thought of Pedro brought a smile to my face. Yeah, he's doing all right. I'd bet on it!

MAY 5TH

By Roger Esty

"So who can tell me what Cinco De Mayo stands for?"
Half the hands in the class went up. That was a first for me. I'd been teaching U.S. History at the school for nine years. I'd never seen so many hands go up. Since Maximillian's rule in Mexico was not a part of my curriculum,I'm not suppose to teach about it. But on May 5th I always allow myself the opportunity.

"Manny. Your hand was up first."
"It was about the battle of Puebla," he answered.
Manny was a heavy set Mexican kid. Round face. Always cracking jokes.
"Did you learn that here or in Mexico?",I asked him.
"Mr. Wasson told us about it in 1st period English class today."
"Do you know who the Emperor's name was?"
"I forgot",he said with a big grin.
"Does anyone know who the Mexicans fought?"
"The Americans,"yelled Yolanda from the corner of the room.
"No,it was...anyone?"
"I think it was the French",said Manny with a laugh.

I thought that that was about it for Cinco De Mayo.
"What do we need to know that stuff for?"snarled Yolanda."It's a waste of time."
In back of where Yolanda was sitting several students broke out laughing.
"What's going on?" I said in my stern voice.
"Oh,"said Yolanda with a big smirk. "Joey farted."
The class started to laugh.
"Come up here Yolanda. Here's an after school detention slip."
Yolanda trodded up to my desk.
"What did I say?" as she rolled her eyes.

Just then the bell rang to end the period. The kids rushed out the door noisily. It was now 3rd period. My class preparation period. But I did all my prep work for the day early in the morning before school started.Before the other teachers got there. That way I could rest. Doze off during 3rd period.

I locked the door from the outside. Turned off the lights. I put a CD in my little boom box. Charlie Parker recorded at The Rockland Palace in Harlem. 1952. I guess that night some fan had brought a tape recorder to tape the sessions of Charlie Parker and the Quintet that night. The tapes weren't discovered until 20 years after Parker's death .They were in someone's attic. Historians guess the was played around 3 or 4 in the morning. The sound is distant. Sounding far away. You can here the noise in the backround of the people talking,shouting. A constant hum of human sound being carried along by Charlie Parker's alto.

Parker started the set off with one of his mainstays,"Out Of Nowhere." I've listened to it a thousand times. As I sat back in my chair with the lights out and the door locked ,I closed my eyes. I didn't turn the volume up too much. The notes from the alto echoed across the darkened classroom. My nose began to tingle. It souded like something from out of nowhere.

Monday, May 4, 2009

El Cholo, Ruben Navarro & my 21st birthday party . . .

By Ricardo Farris, "El Gringo Bandito"

I'm a gringo, so what I have to say about Mexican food carries no weight here.
I agree with what the guy says about El Torito. Crappy food and bad margaritas
However, "El Cholo" is my all-time favorite restaurant. It's located on Western Ave. just south of Olympic Blvd.
I will choose this eating establishment over any other place in the world, I don't care what type food, etc.

The place has been there since 1918. They say the food is "Sonora Style", and this Gabacho doesn't care if Mexican's like it or not.
Their Margarita's are beyond compare and I've had them everywhere.
This is the first place I ever got drunk. I was 18, shortly before my pro debut.
My future sister-in-law, Kam Nelson was 19 at the time, and had just married Olympic pole vault gold medalist Bob Seagren.
They will never let me forget that day. Neither will I forget my surprise 21st birthday party that was held there three years later.

On the day of my birthday, my soon-to-be wife Karla, Ruben Navarro & wife Carol, Bob & Kam Seagren, Rams wide receiever, Lance Rentzel & his actress wife Joey Heatherton, Olympic shot put record holder Brian Oldfield, welterweight Gil King, lightweight Ron Cisneros, heavyweight Kit Boursse', other friends and my family was there.

Ruben and I go to the bar to order a couple pitchers of Margaritas. The bartender is Mexican, he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder.
When we place our order he asks for our ID's. I show him mine but Ruben's had been suspended, Carol had driven so he didn't have ID.
The bartender looks at me and says, "You can drink". He then looks at Ruben and says, "You can't."
Ruben protests, "I'm 26! Do you know who I am?"
The bartender answers, "Yeah, you're the guy I'm going to toss out of here if you don't quiet down!"

Ruben's dark Chicano eyes are blazing. He tells the bartender . . .
"Well then, get all the cholos from the kitchen and tell them to bring their lunches, it's going to be an all day affair!"

Suddenly, big Brian Oldfield, all 6'8" & 280lbs of him, Lance Rentzel, heavyweight Kit Boursse', Gil King, Ronnie Cisneros, Seagren and our father-in law Karl Nelson (the most dangerous of all) are standing behind Ruben.

The manager quickly shows up and relieves the bartender of his duty that afternoon.
He apologized to Ruben and asks him for an autograph.
The "Maravilla Kid" drank on the house the rest of the day.

I'm not Mexican, and in the eyes of Ruben Navarro, neither was the bartender.
However, I love that food. When I have guests from out of the country or just out of town, I take them to El Cholo.

Call me a Gabacho, Gringo, Honky, Cracker, whatever. Just don't forget to call me if you want some company at El Cholo.
It's MY kinda place!

THE WALK OVER

By Roger Esty

"Watch it Adam",I said to my grandson.
I was lucky to find a parking spot in front of a liquor store two blocks from the ball park. Saved me 20 dollars not to park in the lot.
"Just walk over him. He's sleeping," I said to Adam.
I could see Adam staring at the still figure on the sidewalk.
"Go ahead Adam."
Adam proceeded to walk over the guy on the sidewalk.
"What happened abuelito?"
"Probably had too much to drink. There's a lot of policemen around here because of the game. They'll haul him away."

The new ball park was built by the water. The neighborhood had seen better days. It was part of the redevelopment project. In the downtown sector they called it the Gas Lamp District. Funny. That area was older before they started to renovate. All the posh joints now didn't have a history of more than ten years. The problem is the homeless were still around. Especially around the new ball park. It seems to be the trend. Build the new park in the downtown area. Try to rejuvenate. It's a thin mask.

Me and the grandson stayed for about seven innings. My sisters had comped me the tickets. 40 a piece it would have cost. The parking would have dinged me for another 20. Adam got some nachos and a coke. 11 bucks. Coffee for me was another 3.

Yeah,the stadium is beautifull. Fancy scoreboard,special boxes for the big wigs. Waterfalls and fireworks. I've been away from the game. I only recognized a few names on the roster. We stayed for seven innings. The Padres came back to pull ahead by a run. We started our exit.

As we walked back to the car,I could see the lights of the liquor store still on.
"Abuelito. Do you think that man is still sleeping on the side walk?"
"No Adam. If he's sleeping,it's not on the side walk."
I wanted to put Adam at ease.
As we approaced the car,I could see Adam straining his eyes. The man wasn't there.

"Abuelito,what will happen to that man?"
"Nothing much Adam. He'll probably be back here tomorrow night."
As I drove back on the freeway,we listened to the game on the radio. The Diamond Backs had hit a grand slam to take the lead.
"Did you have fun tonight Adam."
"Yes"
"Do you want to go again?"
"Yes,but next time we should park the car in the parking lot."

Saturday, May 2, 2009

THE BOOKMARKER

By Roger Esty

Times are tough. Getting tougher everyday for a lot of people. The baby boomers aren't used to this. It was my generation(baby boomers) that let this thing happen. The politicians(baby boomers) were supposed to protect us. They sold out and stood guard for the old guard and now we're all paying for it,literally.

See more homeless walking the streets. My grand daughter Amanda's Flamenco class is in a neighborhood in San Diego called Golden Hill.Used to be a high end little burg. Old Victorian style homes. Well with the recession the gold has lost a lot of its glow. People sleeping in Balboa Park(which is in the area) , in the alleys and the store fronts. I see families picking through the trash cans. Beggars.

There's a Starbucks a half block away from the dance studio on the corner. Me and Amanda have a frappacino waiting for the class to begin. We usually sit there listening to the best piped in music. Soul,jazz,and blues. Fits the bohemian atmoshere.

There's this one gal. I'd say middle aged. From the way she looks I'd say she doesn't have a place to live.Her clothes look like they've been slept in. I see her going through the city trash bins and the sanitainers in the alleys.

She's come around to me and Amanda a couple of times. Once up at Luigis Pizza Parlor about two blocks away,and the other day at Starbucks. She asks if you could spare a quarter or anything,and you get to pick these hand painted book markers she's made. She's draws animals,seascapes,sunsets,country and mountain images. The bookmarkers are very pretty and colorfull. I always buy a few. She's always very appreciative.

She could probably sell her bookmarkers at a street fair or in the park. Even a store that sells things like that. A gift store.

Sometimes I think my art goes unnoticed. Well just about every artist is thinking the same thing. However when I start feeling sorry for myself that my art ain't hanging in the Louvre,I think of that gal with the bookmarkers. She's happy just to have something to eat.

Maybe They Did And Maybe They Didn't

By Rick Farris

Maybe they did, and maybe they didn't. You either have it or you don't. Most don't, but somehow believe they did.
A lot of fighters have been taken advantage of, good fighters that almost had what it took, but 99% wouldn't have made it with every advantage on their side.
The Dempsey's, Ali's, Robinson's, Duaran's, Leonard's etc. are very, very rare. Lots come close, but even with all the edges couldn't make it.

I have to say that excuses are much more common than talent in boxing. It's always somebody else's fault.
That's not to say that those prelim guys, club fighters don't have worth, as they often provide the action that saves a show, makes people want to come back and buy a ticket.

There is a fine line seperating good from great in boxing. Anything less than great deverves nothing better than second place.
In boxing, coming in second means you finished in last place.
In such a situation, aside from his purse, a boxer deserves the same prize awarded to those who bet him to win- Nothing.

I've opened the show, been the crowd chaser, semi-main and even had a couple featured events.
I didn't like to lose, got a raw deal on a couple of occasions, stole a decision once, generally fought on even terms, have had my nose busted several times, eye brows sliced, eye's swollen shut, urinated blood for a day or two, woke up with headaches that made me wish I could yank my head off and toss it out the window . . . and I've made other guys feel the same. I was stopped once, but finished on my feet, never knocked out cold, never, not in the gym, not in the ring. I've had my bell rung, stepped out of the ring with no memory of what I'd done during the previous several days leading up to that moment. I've fought blind, one eye swollen shut, blood dripping into the other from a cut. I've had concussions (all of us have).

The greatest moments I've ever experienced in life took place in that ring. I wasn't a punching bag, despite the facts above. It comes with the territory. I didn't fight with the success of the Baltazar's, and they didn't fight the with the success of Leonard or Duran. We all got what we deserved. I had some brilliant moments and have some great memories. More good than bad, a lot more good than bad.

So what? Sometimes I did my best, sometimes it wasn't good enough. Life is unfair, some people have a real problem when it comes to that reality.

I got what I deserved, and so does everybody else in boxing. I don't feel sorry for any boxer that ever walked the face of the planet.
We made a choice, and we did what we wanted. Boxers ALL have nobody to blame but themselves.

We all got we deserved. Nothing more-Nothing less. When a boxer dies in the ring, it's a tragedy. It's also their own fault, all of them.

Would I do it again? You bet I would. You just have to know when to quit. Those who don't, well, it's their own fault, they got what they desereved. And just for the record, I didn't have somebody waiting to give me a job in the studios when I retired, my grandad had been dead eight years. I got in on my own, and it was not easy. I got what I deserved, we all do.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard & Oscar De La Hoya: The Impact on Boxing of Angelo Dundee
Exclusive Interview by Dan Hernandez-May 1, 2009

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Dan Hernandez & Angelo Dundee

“I’ve been blessed by a lot of good fighters and I’ve worked with a lot of good fighters.”--Angelo Dundee

He was born “Angelo Merena” on August 30, 1921, “Angelo Dundee,” the boxing corner man of champions. Having worked with the premier boxers of the 60 years, Hall of Fame fighters such as Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard, Jose Napoles, George Foreman, Willie Pastrano, Carmen Basilio, and Oscar De La Hoya head the list of the plethora of talent encompassing the world of Mr. Dundee. Born in Philadelphia, Angelo moved to Miami to aid his brother Chris in establishing his Fifth Street Gym. It was there that he learned the tricks of the trade from such legendary corner men as; Charlie Goldman, Ray Arcel, and Chickie Ferrera. He was their “Bucket guy,” their aid and corner man in training Carmen Basilio, former Welterweight and Middleweight Champion was Dundee’s first champion, working his corner when Carmen defeated Tony De Marco for the world welterweight crown.

He is best known to the general boxing public for his association with former Heavyweight Champion, Muhammad Ali. Ali is on most peoples’ list of the top heavyweight champions in the history of the sport. Angelo was the corner man in each and every one of Ali’s battles. After Ali’s retirement, Dundee became involved in most of the “Big” fights in the career of Sugar Ray Leonard whom Dundee referred to as, “A smaller version of Ali.”

In the famous first fight between Leonard and Thomas “Hit Man” Hearns, Dundee uttered the now oft-quoted phrase, “You’re blowing it son, you’re blowing it!” This was said at the end of the 13th round with Leonard behind on all scorecards. He proceeded to overcome the deficit and score a shocking 14th round stoppage and winning the bout in dramatic fashion. Later, Angelo teamed up with George Foreman in his successful return to boxing, highlighted by Foreman’s unprecedented title winning victory over previously undefeated World Heavyweight Champion, Michael Moorer.

I met Angelo prior to a major fight in Las Vegas, Nevada, and I recall asking him to allow me to photograph him. He stopped me and said “Sure, but only if you take a picture with me.” He then asked his friend to take “Our” picture. It was a
memorable moment for me and I felt as if I’d been touched by royalty, certainly, boxing royalty. I reminded him of that story as we began our interview and he just laughed and said that he appreciated being recognized. Dundee at 80 plus years of age is active, very sharp, and committed to the betterment of boxing.

DH: You’ve done so many interviews over the years, how do you feel about that?

As long as people want to talk to you, that’s a good sign. When they don’t want to talk to you, then you’re in trouble. I enjoy talking to people because of the different outlooks and different approaches. A different setting makes it all interesting.

DH: The last thing I remember with you was your involvement with Oscar De La Hoya when he fought Manny Pacquiao.

I was there in an advisory capacity and I didn’t do a good job. I’d hoped that I would’ve done a better job because he’s such a good guy and a hard training guy. I enjoyed being around him and the people with the Golden Boy group. They are real nice people and their good for boxing.

DH: I’m glad to hear that because I questioned some of their promotions.

Well, you know, you can’t always bat a thousand. We had a bunch of good fights this weekend, Jermain Taylor/Carl Froch, and the others. And I watched them all. I’d go back and forth and check them because you never know when you’re gonna have somebody fight one of those guys.

DH: That’s true, you had better know the competition.

That’s right, like on the second of the May, I’m gonna be in Fairfax, Virginia, with Jimmy Lange and then on the ninth I’ll be in Atlantic City with “Macho” Camacho. Macho is fighting Yori Boy Campas. It’s an interesting fight because of the styles, Yori Boy Campos is an aggressive guy and he’s right on top of you. Camacho, thank God, is a little slicker.

DH: Did you enjoy working with De La Hoya?

I enjoyed him, I enjoyed going up to the mountains. But, if I had known that Big Bear mountain was such a big mountain, I would have hesitated about going up. I got there at night and I tell ya, it’s really magnificent. That’s a big, big, mountain.

I live in Florida you know, it’s flatland. So being a kid from Philadelphia with a little bit of an asthmatic problem, it was heavy breathing.

DH: It seems that you are busier than you’ve ever been, is that correct?

I could be busier, but I’m as busy as I wish. I take them as they come and I enjoy them. I enjoyed doing the book, “My view from the Corner,” me and Bert Sugar coordinated it and it’s doing well, thank God.

DH: Congratulations.

Thank you.

DH: The first time I heard your name was when you were connected with Muhammad Ali.

I know, but I’ve done a lot. I’ve been around since 1948. I’ve been blessed by a lot of good fighters and I’ve worked with a lot of good fighters. They are fun, they are different, and they keep you sharp.

DH: Do you have a list of favorite fighters that you’ve worked with?

They are all my favorites. The closest kid I got to was Willie Pastrano, I was like a father image to him. Ralph Dupas was another one; I’d known those kids since they were 16. I went through their whole careers together and now Ralph has passed away and Willie Pastrano passed away.

Pastrano was a heck of a fighter. I went to Vegas with him many times. He died of problems with his liver, a little bit of cancer, who knows. It’s a variety of things, they pass away it’s a shame. I hate to see them go because they were so good.

DH: Pastrano was one of the best boxers I’d ever seen.

Well, I prided myself for that; I like to teach my kids to box, it gives them longevity.

DH: Dupas was also a tremendous fighter.

He was great. See they had a genius teaching them how to box, a guy by the name of Whitey Esneault. He took them off the streets to teach them boxing, he was a great teacher. New Orleans has a great history of coming out with great fighters, they had: Petey Herman, and so many others. Thank God.

DH: Please tell me what you felt happened to De La Hoya in the Pacquiao fight?

There’s no explaining, no looking for excuses. The other guy was the better fighter that night. That’s what happened. You don’t look for excuses, he fought a great fighter in Pacquiao and he got beat. Pacquiao is just a tremendous fighter. He is going to have a tough fight with Ricky Hatton because of styles, it’ll be a difficult fight, it’ll be a great fight and I’m looking forward to seeing it.

I can’t be there because I’ll be working with Jimmy Lange that same evening. You better believe that I’ll be checking out the Pacquiao-Hatton fight every chance I get.

DH: How about Jimmy Lange, is he a good fighter?

Oh you’ll like him. Here’s a kid that fights in his own hometown and their not bucking closed circuit because the people that come to his fights are local kids. He’s a local kid there and the fight will draw three or 4 thousand people. Jimmy Lange is a nice looking fighter and I’m having lots of fun with “Macho” Camacho, he trains like he’s 22 years old.

DH: I had an interview with Macho a few months back and he sounded very positive.

Well he’s fine, he enjoys what he does. He has fun and he’s around this west coast of Florida, where I’m living right now. The kid enjoys what he does and we’re having fun together. That’s the big key, if you can have fun, do it.

DH: Tell me about your association with Muhammad Ali.

I had a great time with him, and I still do. We stay in touch and whenever I make an appearance at his Foundation we have fun doing it and talking about Zaire. We stay in touch, he’s a friend.

DH: It must have been sad for you as Ali’s career was coming to an end.

It was sad, but what are you going to do? Life goes on; he’s a very happy guy, by the way. Physically he’s messed up with the Parkinson’s but mentally he is as sharp as ever, it affected his speech not his thinking process.

DH: I just spoke with an opponent of Ali, Ken Norton.

Yeah, Ken’s having open-heart surgery.

DH: Yes, he is in recovery now. The surgery was considered a success.

I talk to him, I stay in touch, and Kenny and I are very friendly. I told him to hurry up and get better because we see each other at the Hall of Fame every year, so I told him that he has to be there so I can bug him. We have a lot of fun together; he tells me “Why are you always picking on me.” Imagine little old me picking on that big guy. He is a very nice man. He is a great family man.

DH: How about you…do you have family?

I’ve got a lot of family, that’s why I’m living up here right now. I have a son and a daughter that live up here and six grandchildren. I’m blessed. And they are great because you don’t have to babysit them, they take off on you. It is a great feeling to have children and grandchildren.

DH: It is amazing. Apparently, you’ve had a similar feeling with many of your boxers, is that correct?

Yes, it was fun.

DH: What are your immediate plans?

Well, there’s the fight this Saturday and I’m going to be in Atlantic City on May 9, 2009. I tell you, I can be as busy as I want to be.

DH: To complete the interview, are there any thoughts that you’d like to share with the fans and upcoming fighters?

All we need is a bunch of Jimmy Lange’s in each local town and boxing will be alive and well again. That’s all we need, that’s all, get fighters that the public recognizes. That’s why Pacquiao and Hatton are going to be such a great attraction, because the people know who the heck they are. The other thing is that if you don’t speak Russian you’re in trouble with the heavyweight division.
(Laughter)

DH: They do seem to have a stranglehold on the heavyweights these days, don’t they?

They’ll disappear; big guys can’t survive (More Laughter). God bless you and thanks for the interview.