Boxing News April 28, 1948

ALTHOUGH it is generally agreed that Enrique Bolanos, the Californian lightweight, is the logical contender for Ike Williams' world championship, there are two other boys who will be treading on his coat-tails pretty heavily before the year is out. Bolanos clashes with the champion at Los Angeles on May 26 and it will be a return meeting. just over two years ago they met in the same town when Ike won by a knockout in eight rounds, but a lot happened since then. Williams beat Bob Montgomery for the undisputed possession of the 135 Ib. bauble, but there are suspicions that the Trenton title-holder is slipping just a teeny-weeny bit. Bolanos had 18 fights after the title affair to the end of last year and he won 13 of them by the knock out route, four others were points victories and one was drawn. No losses. It is quite a record and he should make Ike travel. Leading lights to challenge the winner of the Williams-Bolanos clash are Johnny Williams, from Montgomery, Alabama, and Freddie Dawson, the Chicago flash..

Boxing News May 14, 1947

Bob Montgomery, who disputes the world's lightweight title with Ike Williams, had matters all his own way when he disposed of Joey Barnum, a local lad, at Los Angeles recently. The Bobcat was loudly booed as he left the ring, chiefly because of an after-the-bell punch that sent his opponent to one knee. Barnum was floored early in the seventh round, got up, but was out on his feet when the referee stopped the fight...

A CHICANA IN HEAVEN!

A CHICANA IN HEAVEN!

A middle aged Chicana had a heart attack and was taken

to the hospital.

While on the operating table, she had a near death experience

and the Creator appeared before her.

Seeing the Creator, she asked, "Dios mio, is my time

up?"

Dios said, "No mijita, you have another 43 years, two months and eight days to live."

The Chicana decided to stay in the hospital and have the

works done: face-lift, liposuction, chi-chi lift, nalga lift and pansa

tuck. (Write back if you need spanglish-translation)

She was all excited because she knew she had a long life

ahead and wanted to look bien chingona!

After her final operation, she was released from the hospital.

While crossing the street on her way to a taqueria, she was hit and killed by a bus.

Arriving in front of the Creator, she demanded, "Orale

pues...que Paso? I thought you said I had another 40 years to go? Why didn't you pull me out of the path of that pinche bus?"

The Creator replied, "Orale chica, I didn't recognize you

On the ropes

Oct. 31, 1950: Bernard “Big Duke” Docusen hangs on to the ropes at end of the second round after taking several hard punches from John L. Davis. The referee halted the bout on a technical knockout immediately after third round started.

Times sports writer Cal Whorton reported on the fight:

John L. Davis, the cold, cruel fistic assassin out of Oakland, successfully defended his State welterweight championship last night by scoring a third-round t.k.o. over Bernard Docusen of New Orleans in the scheduled 12-round main go at the Olympic…

Docusen, throwing fast left jabs while scooting in reverse, had an edge in the opening heat when Davis had trouble locating his target.

Midway through the second, though, Davis got inside Docusen’s rangy arms and brought up a right which caught the handsome Filipino challenger on the chin. This so infuriated Big Duke that he started swapping with the champion, which was a mistake on Bernie’s part. There’s nothing Davis likes more than a foe who’ll stand up and trade with him.

For nearly a minute the two whaled away with fiery leather to each other’s head. Neither seemed willing to give ground and the crowd of 4,900 patrons cheered both on with uncontrolled shouts.

Then suddenly the slugging stopped and Docusen, who hardly knows the feel of canvas on his back, bounced on the deck after having caught a wicked right on the chin. He was down for a count of four.

Davis, relentless as an enraged tiger, moved in again. He landed a left hook to the jaw and Docusen stumbled into the ropes, from where he took a two-count from Referee Johnny Indrisano. When action resumed, Davis continued the brutal attack a few more seconds until the bell mercifully saved the wavy-haired challenger.

But by this time it was obvious that Big Duke’s tour of duty was limited. En route to his corner he once fell through the ropes. He was out but didn’t know enough to admit it….

When the third round started, Indrisano stopped the fight after eight seconds and awarded Davis the victory.

This photo led the next day’s Times Sports section front. The image won several awards for staff photographer Larry Sharkey, including best sports photo in the Associated Press statewide contest and first prize in an annual nationwide sports photo contest conducted by E.P. Dutton Co.

In 1948 Docusen lost a close world welterweight title fight to Sugar Ray Robinson. He passed away in 2009, but his website is still active.

California Boxing Hall of Fame.....6-25-2011

RICHARD SAVALA & FRANKIE BALTAZAR

California Boxing Hall of Fame.....6-25-2011

DON FRASER & FRANK BALTAZR

California Boxing Hall of Fame Inductions

June 28, 2011 By Michele Chong
Exclusive Report from the Class of 2011!

From a boxer in the ’20s with over pro 200 bouts to an ex-WBA heavyweight champ, from a veteran trainer to a heralded PR wizard, from a friendly timekeeper part of the local pro circuit to a former gangbanger/U.S. State champion, Saturday’s California Boxing Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony was an exciting one for the crowd of over 500.

Each of this year’s inductees have contributed in one form or another to the sport we call the sweet science. During the weekend’s festivities it was time to honor over two dozen awardees for their hard work, discipline, dedication, passion and sacrifice, whether it was in or out of the ring. And many of the newest Hall of Famers are still working and thriving in the sport–either behind the scenes or at the front ranks.

Here is my special report and snapshots capturing the gala held at the Sportsmen’s Lodge in Studio City.

With the founder and President of the California organization Don Fraser welcoming the new class of honorees, the day was filled with many heartfelt speeches and moving tributes. Joining the roster of California’s “Best in the West” are Tony Tubbs, Dwight Hawkins, Gene Fullmer, Loreto Garza, Richard “Trino” Savala, Ray Lovato, Zack Padilla, Rich Marotta, Steve Brener, Lance Pugmire, Louie Burke, Ray “Windmill” White, Willy Silva, John Montes Sr., John Montes Jr., Herman Montes, John Liechty, Wes Wambold, Ramon Tiscareno, and (posthumously) Bob Fitzsimmons, Bert Colima, Willie Pep, “Baby Face” Gutierrez, Bob Voigt, Jim Moriarty, Noe Cruz and Fritzie Zivic.

This West Coast affair was also a great opportunity for a little R&R for many of the out-of-town guests. With the Sportmen’s Lodge located in the San Fernando Valley, several of the inductees who traveled to Southern California also got a chance to take in some of the sights. Making the most of their Hall of Fame weekends, there were trips to Disneyland, tours of our sunny beaches, and strolls through the famous Hollywood Walk of Fame. And the boxers even had a “movie-star sighting.”

At the beginning of the awards show, canine actor “Bear” offered a furry paw to all the champions coming through. You’ll see the pooch, a miniature Queensland Heeler, in “First Dog” being released this summer. In the foyer of the ballroom, as former WBC champ Paul Banke, ex-NABF titlist Randy Shields, and former WBC champion Carlos Palomino and others made their way into the banquet hall this surprise greeter with four legs offered all a friendly welcome. I found a fellow animal lover in Valley boxer Randy Shields, who spent a few minutes greeting the four-legged film star.

Later in the day, with their family and friends cheering them on, the inductees took their place at the podium. This year’s recipients also brought along family members who were all looking forward to the ceremony. Tony “TNT” Tubbs had a large group of relatives who all came in from Cincinnati, as did Riverside boxing trainer Willy Silva, who had four spirited tables cheering him on. I also enjoyed meeting PR guru Steve Brener’s family as well as the Trino Savala team who came down from Sacramento.

During the inductions, the honorees shared many memories from the past, funny anecdotes or poignant words of appreciation. In the posthumous category, the descendants of those who have passed on proudly accepted their awards.

Soaking in all the support and acclaim received, the former fighters and icons in the sport were presented their proclamations from the California Boxing Hall of Fame and the City of Los Angeles. While the individuals were called up on stage, there was the lively Denise Fraser Band serenading them. And yes, no boxing banquet would be complete without the classic “Rocky” theme in the background.

While hundreds of SoCal fans had a chance to get autographs and pose for pictures, the large Empire Room also offered the boxing community a chance to reconnect in a fun and social setting. I had many of the guests tell me how they ran into friends they hadn’t seen in ages. Many boxers also said they caught up with guys they had sparred or trained with or fought before–in both the amateur world and the pro ranks. Boxing in the Golden State has a rich history–especially in the Southland–and these awards pay tribute to the deserving individuals whose played a part in the sport.

In attendance were former title holders, top contenders and past inductees including fighters Carlos Palomino, Randy Shields, Frankie Baltazar Jr., Danny “Little Red” Lopez, Allen Syers, Paul Banke, Andy Nance, Bobby Chacon, Rodolfo Gonzalez, Billy Moore, Rick Farris, Armando Muniz, Oscar Muniz, trainer Bennie Georgino, boxing historian J.J. Johnston, WBC’s Dr. Joe Noriega and many more.

Also showing support was a knockout contingent of familiar faces who are currently part of the fight game including promoter Ken Thompson (Thompson Boxing Promotions), California State Athletic Commission (CSAC) Executive Officer George Dodd, officials Jack Reiss, Gwen Adair, Dr. James Jen Kin, PR master John Beyrooty, and the team from Cleto Reyes Gloves, Elizabeth Reyes and Mike Serrano (with white and red collectible Cleto Reyes gloves ready for signatures).

President Don Fraser thanked his Vice President Frank Baltazar Sr., Vice President Rick Resnick, Ken Green, Bill and Linda Dempsey Young, Larry and Elsa Montalvo, Norma Silvani, Gwen Adair and his whole committee who made the dream a reality for the 27 new inductees. Each year I know Fraser and his Hall of Fame committee work tirelessly (almost year round) to ensure that the annual event is a success. It is a labor of love for this group who has a longtime bond with so many in the boxing circles.

The CBHOF Vice President Frank Baltazar Sr. says they spend several months putting the banquet together, including all the finishing touches that make it a memorable event. Frank tells me they plan the gala “for about nine months out of the year trying to make it the best SoCal event of its kind, hard work but rewarding.”

The humble and always-classy Baltazar and his wife Connie have their own Hall of Fame dynasty within his own prizefighting family; sons (and very popular Olympic Auditorium sluggers) Frankie Jr., Tony and Bobby, who all followed their father’s footsteps in stepping into the ring.

And that was the ultimate theme throughout the ceremony with many of those honored paying tribute to their dads, trainers and father figures of generations past–the gentlemen who first instilled their passion for pugilism. There was a wealth of memories flowing through the decades in all the acceptance speeches. The wives (the true heroes) and families of the Hall of Famers were also given the credit that they deserve for being there through thick and thin.

Don Fraser and the CBHOF committee have made sure that these inductees get all the credit they’ve earned.

A toast to the new Class of 2011 who can now add three new words to their resumés: Hall of Fam

The Knockout Magazine, Feb 18, 1950, Olympic Auditorium Boxing..

JOHN NOVELA 4 rds-135 Ibs. vs CHUCK THOMPSON
Two good-looking youngsters. Thin edge to Novela

BOBBY GARZA 4 rds-124 Ibs. vs JIMMY DUNN
These two may steal the show. Dunn a slight choice.

M. MALDONALDO 4 rds-128 Ibs. vs F. RODRIGUEZ
Manuel will have his hands full, but pick him.

GIL CADILLA 4 rds-126 Ibs. vs FREDDIE HAYES
Cadilla is one of Forbe's pupils. Must pick him.

CHU CHU JIMINEZ 4 rds-132 Ibs. vs ROCKY HARO
This will be a minor war...Jiminez has one several good bouts
at Ocean Park...Rocky knows his way around. Tab Haro.

MAIN EVENT

ENRIQUE BOLANOS 12 rds-136 Ibs. vs ART ARAGON
This is a "natural" ... Aragon takes the place
of the injured Maxie Docusen ... Form chart
points to Bolanos, but many observers give "Golden
Boy" Aragon the punchers chance ...Promoter Cal Eaton
looks for a near sell-out house ... Should be one of the year's
best scraps with the more experienced Bolanos rating the edge.

Jimmy McLarnin On Art "Golden Boy" Aragon,

"If a kid can hit, and Aragon can, he's always dangerous. He can't be blamed for his cockiness because, most of the time, he delivers.
Mickey Walker On "Golden Boy" Aragon,
"I know Aragon's cocky, and has been beaten, but none could destroy his confidence. He always snaps back, bragging as usual. He's the most 'colorful' we have had around since Bert Colima."
The always reserved lightweight champ Jimmy Carter, merely said, after his non-title and title bouts with Art: "He's a good boy." Billy Graham, who bested him in a close nod when Art ran out of gas after a whirlwind start and also receipted for a cut face, put it this way: "He's a very good fighter. He stunned me a couple of times. I think he'd take Chuck Davey. He's a hooker and Chuck would be walking into his best punch.
The evidence shows that Art, who can be as quick with an alibi as a left jab, was justified in claiming that a bad left index foreknuckle-which later required surgery-bothered him noy only in the Graham set-to but prior fights with Salas and Kim, as well. He knocked out the latter, however, despite the handicap. Art's own excuse for losing his second battle with Carter, which was for the title, was that he had difficulty in making weight. The excuse made sense for it was apparent he was too finely drawn. The operation on his damaged mitt proved successful when he belted Elmer Beltz into helplessness in one of the briefest encounters on record. In any event, win, lose, or draw it is an even bet that Art's philosophy, as expressed in his own words, will prevail: "I intend to be a fathead, come what may. What else gets the moola? You can have those starving 'good losers.' "

This City Was Full of Fight

Before football came and went, before the Dodgers and Lakers, boxing was the center of the Los Angeles sporting world.

By Steve Springer Times Staff Writer
March 30, 2006

FOR America's big-league sports, L.A. was a distant outpost for the first half of the 20th century, impressive for an off-season vacation, impractical as a home base. Before jet travel, any team moving to the West Coast would have presented a scheduling nightmare.

The Rams, who played only once a week, were the first to make the leap, coming in the 1940s. The Dodgers followed in the late 1950s, the Lakers not until 1960.

But boxing was different. Unencumbered by the need to regularly transport a full team a thousand miles or more, boxing found its way here even before the start of the last century.

James Jeffries, who won the heavyweight title from Bob Fitzsimmons in 1899, began his professional career in his hometown, Los Angeles, where he knocked out Hank Griffin in 14 rounds in 1896.

Jack Johnson, before he beat Tommy Burns for the heavyweight title in 1908, won the black heavyweight championship five years earlier by defeating Denver Ed Martin in 20 rounds in L. A. in 1903.

Over the ensuing century, this city produced one favorite son after another in the ring: Henry Armstrong, Art Aragon, Jerry Quarry and Schoolboy Bobby Chacon.

In the last 15 years, three of the sport's most recognizable figures have emerged from this area: Oscar De La Hoya from East Los Angeles, Shane Mosley from Pomona and Fernando Vargas from Oxnard. Three others — heavyweights James Toney, and Vitali and Wladimir Klitschko — moved here with the hope this would be a launching pad for the top of the heavyweight division.

But although they all lived here, they rarely fought here after their marketability grew. Instead, they followed the money. And except for an occasional championship match at Staples Center, that has meant fighting in Las Vegas. Since the Olympic Auditorium and the Forum went dark in the last decade, in terms of regularly scheduled matches, there has been no major venue for a promising fighter to polish his skills as he moved from club fighter to headliner.

It was far different a century ago.

The city of Vernon was the first focal point for the sport in the Los Angeles area, thanks to a bartender and former railroad worker named Jack Doyle, who opened a training camp in Arcadia in 1908, according to the Tacoma News-Tribune.

Two years later, when he opened a bar in Vernon, Doyle decided boxing would be a great vehicle for getting customers into his establishment. So he began to stage four-round fights, the participants lined up by matchmaker Wad Wadhams.

The fights were held in the indoor Vernon Arena. Another local promoter, Uncle Tom McCarey, built an outdoor Vernon Arena.

By 1914, the state had put strict regulations on the sport. Fights were limited to four rounds, purses to $25.

Fights were also held in the Wilmington Bowl, fighters often training for area matches in Venice and San Pedro.

In the early 1920s, Doyle built a 7,000-seat arena in Vernon, but its popularity was short-lived. On Aug. 4, 1925, L.A.'s boxing mecca, the Olympic Auditorium, opened on the corner of 18th and Grand.

"The Auditorium blazed with glory on its opening night," according to an article the next day in The Times, "the light of many electric lights surpassed only by the sparkling jewels that adorned the persons of several of our well-known citizens and citizenesses. Hollywood and the moving picture colony slipped into their tuxedos and formal apparel and blessed the ringside by their presence."

In the early days of the Olympic, Mae West, Lupe Velez, Ruby Keeler, Al Jolson and later Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck could be found in the good seats.

By the middle of the last century, a fight fan could be entertained all week without leaving the area. Ocean Park Arena in Santa Monica had fights on Tuesdays, the Olympic on Thursdays and Hollywood Legion Stadium on Saturdays.

And the famous and the infamous tagged along, especially at Hollywood Legion Stadium, where entertainers Bob Hope, Frank Sinatra, Jolson, Eddie Cantor and George Raft rubbed elbows with mobsters such as Mickey Cohen.

Armstrong, who moved to Los Angeles as an amateur boxer, would be at the top of the list of L.A.'s best fighters, pound for pound, and certainly near the top of any list.

In the days when there was only one champion in each weight division, Armstrong won the featherweight, welterweight and lightweight titles in 1937 and '38.

And he almost added a fourth belt to his expanding frame, fighting Ceferino Garcia to a draw in a middleweight title match at Gilmore Field in 1940.

If Armstrong was the most talented L.A. fighter, Art Aragon was the most colorful.

Aragon, who fought from 1944 to 1960, was "the Golden Boy" long before De La Hoya was born, so-named by actor William Holden, who had starred in the movie "The Golden Boy." Said Holden, pointing to Aragon: "Here's the real Golden Boy."

Aragon (89-20-5, 59 knockouts), a lightweight, never won a title, but he sure won over the fans, packing arenas for his often brutal, usually entertaining fights.

And he won over the media as well with his one-liners. Describing a fight he'd lost after dieting to make weight, he said, "I was the only fighter who ever had to be carried into the ring."

Among L.A.'s most memorable matches:

• The welterweight title fight between Joe Rivers, known as "the Lethal Latin," and Ad Wolgast at Vernon Arena in 1912. They went down from simultaneous punches in the 13th round for a double knockout. The victory was awarded to Wolgast, the defending champion.

• The welterweight title fight in which Jimmy McLarnin beat Young Corbett III in 1933 in front of 15,000 at Los Angeles' Wrigley Field.

• The featherweight match between Chacon and Danny "Little Red" Lopez that drew 16,080 to the Sports Arena in 1974, with an additional 2,671 paying to watch the fight on closed-circuit television at Olympic Auditorium. Chacon won on a ninth-round TKO.

Muhammad Ali fought three times at the Sports Arena as Cassius Clay, the last time against Archie Moore in 1962, winning all three matches. He returned as Ali to beat Ken Norton in 1973 at the Forum.

There were also many colorful L.A. figures outside the ring among promoters and matchmakers, from Aileen Eaton and George Parnassus to Mickey Davies, Babe McCoy and Don Chargin.

Staples Center is trying to write its own chapter in the city's rich boxing history.

It was the site of the first De La Hoya-Mosley fight in 2000. Roy Jones, Bernard Hopkins and Lennox Lewis have also fought there.

And on April 24, 2004, Vitali Klitschko beat Corrie Sanders at Staples to win the World Boxing Council heavyweight championship.

Klitschko has since retired, moved back to Ukraine and recently announced his candidacy for mayor of Kiev.

L.A.'s last heavyweight champion, Jeffries, won his title in 1899. Only boxing, of all of L.A.'s sports, can measure its monumental moments by the century.

Art "Golden Boy" Aragon, From The Fight Magazine 1953,

Lee Boran managed Aragon through his first five years as a professional, then sold him in 1948 just as Art was about to become an established main eventer. Boren says, "I sold Art because I thought I'd rather be friends with him than train him. Boran sold Aragon to Barney Barnett. There personalities clashed, and Barnett, in turn, sold him a few months later to Jimmy Roche, who possesses a shrewd business mind and considerably more patience then his predecessor. Roche steered his Golden Boy to the big-money fights with one hand, and kept him humored by patting him on the back with the other. It has been difficult at times, but Roche says, "Other fight managers have alot of other kinds of trouble with their fighters. Art isn't so bad. He just pops off a little when he shouldn't." Recently the Golden Boy was watching a fight on television in which Elmer Beltz and Phil Kim, another Aragon knockout victim, were the contestants. Someone said, "Beltz seems to have slowed down." Another person said, "Kim doesn't look as fast as he used to, either." Aragon concurred. "Let me tell you something," he said. "Very few fighters look the same after they fight me."

From The Ring Jan 1952,

Although Keeny Teran is still in the prelimenary ranks, the baby-faced youngster is already being hailed as another Manuel Ortiz in the making. Teran is built very much like Ortiz was at the same age, and like the former champion, Keeny packs a punch. Teran has had but twelve professional bouts, yet has displayed so much class and shown so much improvement that his manager and trainer, Ray Luna, is already thinking of the time when his handsome little protege will be fighting for the bantam title. And in this instance such thinking is not merely the "pipe dream" of some noisy handler, but instead, the observation of an exceptionally intelligent fellow, who was himself a clever boxer and is now one of the best trainers in California. However, although Teran has been boxing professionally for only eight months, he his no green hand at the trade, having been boxing since he was twelve years of age. In California, a boy must be 18 years of age to box even as a amateur, so Teran's fistic activities were confined to smokers. Keeny appeared on nearly a hundred such programs, and then as now, he "stole the show" most every time. Teran engaged in 24 amatuer contests, losing 2 of them, which decisions he reversed in return matches. Teran was born in Los Angeles on April 10, 1932 of Mexican parentage. And at 19 years of age he is still under the Bantamweight limit and he isn't apt to outgrow the weight for some time. California has produced three World Bantam champions, and if the ambition of this clever, hard punching little Mexican is realized, the fourth will be Keeny Teran.

Art Aragon Stories

A friend of mine has been posting these Art Aragon stories in another site, and with his permission I have posted them on the my West Coast Boxers Of Years Gone By site

THE ORIGINAL GOLDEN BOY: ART ARAGON, Continued....The Post Below

The Trigo fight was one of many controversies that marked Aragon's career. Warming up in the bowls of the Olympic Auditorium, Aragon and his handlers were overwhelmed by charcoal burner fumes so severe that chief second Billy Connyers had to be rushed to the hospital. Weakened by the fumes, Aragon fought gallantly, but lost a decision. He avenged the loss a month later, paving the way for a showdown with the top attraction in town, Enrique Bolanos. "That was the fight that made the 'Golden Boy," recalled Aragon. "He was 'the man.' So when I beat him, I became 'the man." Ten thousand fans packed the Olympic to see the bout, generating Aragon's biggest payday, with his 22 1/2 per cent of the gate worth the then-princely-sum of $6.700. Aragon battered Bolanos from the opening bell, after knocking him down in the 12th, saw his Idol rise, glassy-eyed and weak-knead. "He was really hurt and shaking, standing there with his hands at his sides, so I didn't hit him and the ref finally stopped it." While this sportsmanship wowed the writers, the fans never forgave Aragon for toppling there hero. "When they raised my hand everyone booed. I thought my next fight they'd cheer, naturally, but when I came into the ring 'Boo!'-and for the rest of my life when they mentioned my name in the ring they all booed...but they filled up the joint every time." The Hollywood crowd, on the other hand, embraced the handsome lightweight. Aragon quickly became a fixture on the nightclub scene, palling around with Bob Hope, golfing with Mickey Rooney and frequenting the Coconut Grove, Mocambo and Brown Derby, often with a well-known starlet." The Ink-stained wretches of the Times, Daily Mirror and Herald Express aslo stayed loyal to the man who provided them with juicy copy, including one even predicting his knockouts, a practice he stopped fairly quickly. "In those days everyone had action on the fight, so when I actually got lucky and knocked the guy out when I said I would, people thought things were fishy, so I stopped," said Aragon, who was spending money faster then he made it. While the predictions stopped, the attention didn't. His brashness filled the stands and his fists did the rest..

THE ORIGINAL GOLDEN BOY: ART ARAGON

Los Angeles, 1949. Men wore hats, women were dames, and sawbuck tossed on the bar at Ciro's made you the toast of the town. The Dodgers were in Brooklyn, the Lakers in Minneapolis and the Rams had just come out of Cleveland. Horse racing and boxing dominated the sports pages, five daily newspapers battled for copy and sports heroes were in short supply. Into that vacuum strutted boxing's original "Golden Boy," Art Aragon. "The ladies, my friend, the ladies!" laughed Aragon, remembers the time with a twinkle in his eye. "There were women everywhere you looked and I was makin' a living, so life was pretty good." The Golden Boy began his pro career on May 23, 1944, with a win over Frenchy Renee, notched 11 wins before his 17th birthday, entered the Coast Guard after turning 18 and, while stationed in Boston, managed to fight seven times in 1946, piling up six wins and a draw. "I did pretty good considering I couldn't train," he said. His only bout in '47 was a loss to Charley Early in Salem, Massachusetts, then It was back to L.A., Where in '48 he learned his trade the hard way, scoring quick knockouts over overmatched opponents like Ray Louis and Connie Smith in between hard-fought draws with nationally ranked veterans Tommy Campbell and Jesse Flores. The "Wavy-haired fighter with a vicious left hook" had a knack for self-promotion to go with his heavy hands and his star rose quickly. Next on the hit list was Alfredo Pescatore, the self-styled lightweight champion of Italy. "After a minute of dancing, Pescatore walked straight towards Aragon, who was waiting with a right hand cocked. He pulled the trigger and the fight was over, with the Italian having suffered a broken nose," Less then three weeks later, well regarded "Irish" Tim Dalton stepped through the ropes to face the man the Herald's Morton Moss called "the handsome hard-hitting Golden Boy of southland fistiana." Dalton lasted seven rounds before the referee stopped the fight. Three weeks later Aragon was in Detroit, staying at the same home of his Idol, Joe Louis, who was making his first foray into promoting. "There I was Joe Louis' house, reading all his scrapbooks, and following him around. He was a real class act, but I don't think he said 10 words to me the whole time I was there, not that I cared," he said. On the card that Included exhibition bouts featuring ring legends Willie Pep and Jack Dempsey Aragon battled Luther Rawlings in the main event, dropping a close 10-round decision to a local favorite in a fight the Associated Press described as "One of the best scraps seen in a Detroit ring in years, so hard-fought it had the crowd of 10,062 tossing paper from the rafters into the ring as a way of cheering the bloody brawlers." Aragon returned home the #7-ranked lightweight in the country. He stayed busy, beating Benny Black and Wilf Desjardins before facing wily southpaw Harold "Babyface" Jones. "I hated lefties, you could never catch 'em, especially the ones who jabbed and ran," joked Aragon. The hard-earned victory kept the Aragon train rolling along. As did his marriage, the first of many. "I had plenty of wives I guess, but I loved 'em all, and they loved me, too, it's just that I had trouble staying put," he recalled with a grin. "They were all classy, too. I kept hoping it would rub off on me." In the ring, Aragon continued wowing the crowd at the Legion Hall. First, ringsiders Joe Louis and Bob Hope watched Tony Chavez fall in one, then fighting with his right eye swollen shut for the final four rounds, he decision John L. Davis in what the Herald called "The best action fight of the year." Next up was Julio Jiminez and "Blood flowed like wine in the savage scrap, with both men cut over both eyes...Aragon had what it took when it counted and took the decision." A fifth-round KO of Freddie "Babe" Herman followed, then the Golden Boy took out Alfredo Escobar in three. Aragon was crowned "Los Angeles Fighter of the Year" by boxing writers, prior to taking on Mario Trigo...To be continued.

Robert Guerrero To Fight Marcos Maidana

By Dan Rafael
ESPN.com

Robert Guerrero, the two-time featherweight titleholder and junior lightweight titlist, has defeated several notable opponents.

But his next fight, an Aug. 27 date with interim junior welterweight titlist Marcos Maidana, looks as though it will be the toughest of his career.

"I think it the biggest one so far and I think it's the most dangerous one so far, too," Guerrero told ESPN.com on Monday after finding out the fight was signed, sealed and delivered.

Guerrero signed his contract last week and was waiting on Maidana to sign, which he did over the weekend, Golden Boy Promotions CEO Richard Schaefer told ESPN.com.

The fight, which will headline a "Boxing After Dark" card on HBO, will take place at the HP Pavilion -- better known as the Shark Tank -- in San Jose, Calif., not far from Guerrero's hometown of Gilroy, Calif.

"He's a tough guy. He has punching power. He keeps coming and he gets off the canvas when he gets knocked down," said Guerrero, who will move up to junior welterweight for the bout. "When I watch Marcos Maidana fight, I look at the fight and I think the better the opposition in front him, the more he steps up his game."

"Robert is stepping up to face the hardest puncher in the division," Schaefer said. "I really think he belongs on that pound-for-pound list because of what he has accomplished. Maybe if he wins against Maidana that will get him there."

Maidana's last two fights have been all-action slugfests in Las Vegas. In December, he dropped a tight decision to titleholder Amir Khan in the 2010 Boxing Writers Association of America fight of the year. On April 9, Argentina's Maidana (30-2, 27 KOs) narrowly outpointed Mexican great Erik Morales, a former three-division champion, in a grueling brawl.

Guerrero (29-1-1, 18 KOs) fought on the Maidana-Morales HBO PPV undercard and outpointed slugger Michael Katsidis to claim a pair of vacant interim lightweight belts. After his fight, Guerrero said he watched Maidana-Morales on a monitor in his dressing room.

"It was an exciting fight to watch, especially knowing a fight with me and the winner could be made with Golden Boy, and now here it is," Guerrero said. "They both went to war. They put on a great fight and me and Katsidis also put on a great fight. And now the winners, we're clashing in August."

Maidana, who will train in Puerto Rico, confirmed that he had agreed to the fight, tweeting, "I think everybody (will) like the fight vs. Guerrero. I'll prepare myself 100 percent since it's a tough one. But I will win!"

Said Schaefer, "This confirms what we know about Maidana, that he fights anyone, anywhere, anytime. There are very few fighters like that, but he believes in his talents and his skills and in his iron chin and iron will. He feels this will be another big test and he's ready, and it doesn't matter where he's going to take it."

Schaefer has been working on the fight for weeks and was quite pleased that he had closed a difficult deal.

"Sometimes when you make a fight you know on paper going into the fight it has fight of the year written all over it and you know its going to be an action battle. This is one of those fights," Schaefer said. "It can only be a great fight. In the 140-pound division, this is as big as it gets. There many big fights there, but this is certainly one of them.

"This is one I am going to look forward to between now and Aug. 27 until the first bell rings. You'll have people split 50-50 on who is going to win the fight."

Guerrero is anxious to try his hand at a new weight.

"I'm super-excited about the move to 140. Just being at 140, I will be stronger, faster and more well rounded. I'm excited about it," Guerrero said. "Making 140 will be very easy for me. I'm just excited about this fight.

Guerrero said he was also looking forward to fighting at home, where he has good fan support.

"It will be great for the hometown fans. I've been wanting to fight a world title fight in San Jose and it's here. Aug. 27," he said. "I know all the fans are excited about it. I'll stay focused and not get caught up in the hype with all the fans. Just focus and do what I gotta do and everybody is happy."

The winner of the fight looms as a mandatory challenger for the winner of the July 23 (HBO) unification bout between Khan and Zab Judah.

Babe McCoy On Art "Golden Boy" Aragon

"We've been given trouble by fighters we lose money with, so when a fellow like Aragon comes along, we can tolerate him. But believe me, he gives us plenty of trouble. Art is a boy with alot of confidence. He thinks he's a better fighter then Carter, and a better matchmaker then me. He tells our publicity man how to write his releases and tells the ticket office how to sell tickets. For a big fight, he tells us how to scale the house and how much to advertise."
When Aragon was up at Pop Soper's Ranch near Ojai, California, training for his title fight with Carter in November 1951, he became concerned over the influx of newspapermen coming to see him train. Art, who worries more about how advance ticket sales are progressing then the promoters do, was counting on a capacity crowd for his fight with Carter, and by simple arithmetic he arrived at the conclusion that for every newspaperman to be accommodated, one less ticket could be sold. When a group of newspapermen crowded around him after one of his rare sparring sessions, he said, to no one in particular, "Remind me to call the Olympic in the morning and tell them to cut down on the press pass list."
The booing of the Golden Boy has grown into a tradition. It is his trademark as much as his eye-catching robe. The fight fans boo Aragon for the same reason baseball fans eat hot dogs. It is the customary thing to do.

Art "Golden Boy" Aragon, From The Fight Magazine 1953,

If Art Aragon spent as much time throwing real punches at sparring partners as he does verbal punches at the world, he would be lightweight champion today. Last June in Los Angeles' Olympic Stadium he snapped the six fight winning streak of Elmer Beltz, a highly-regarded welterweight, with a knockout in 50 seconds of the first round of a much-publicized charity fight. Beltz's manager, Bill Gale, was furious after the fight, but not because his boy had been beaten. he muttered in bitter indignation, "The thing that gripes me is that Aragon did just what he said he would." The Golden Boy had predicted he would floor Beltz with one punch and end the fight in the first round. He was also heard to say "I'd feel sorry for Beltz except for one thing: There's money involved." After fullfilling the boast, the loquacious fellow said in reference to his rapid knockout, "The house wasn't big enough. I wanted to get it over fast." It was as simple as that. Someone asked Aragon if he thought the fight should have been stopped sooner. He replied, "They should have stopped it when the match was signed." Another person asked if Art thought Beltz should have waited another year before taking him on. He replied, "He should have waited four years." Actually, though, Aragon is not as brash as he first appears. Out of the ring, he leads with his lip, and it is a widely accepted conclusion that he speaks before he thinks, and allowances are made accordingly. Before the fight the scenes in the dressing rooms of the two fighters provided a distinct contrast. Beltz was earnestly limbering up and shadow boxing. Aragon on the other hand, was deeply concerned over a sign he was in the process of painting. Art's trainer, Ray Luna, was holding a bottle of black liquid shoe polish in one hand and the dauber in the other. Aragon was dictating what he wanted printed on a large piece of white cardboard. On the first line appeared the words "IF IT'S A." On the scond line went "GOOD FIGHT." The Golden Boy was not satisfied with the progress Luna was making on the word "FIGHT." He said, "Aw, that's lousy. Here-let me do the rest of it." Fight time was approaching, but Art wasn't thinking about it. He was painstakingly printing the words "THROW MONEY" on the third line. When he reached the end of the line, there was not enough room for the "Y" in "MONEY," so Art put a small "Y" just beneath "E." Luna said, that's no good," and took the roll of adhesive tape, with which he was going to bandage Art's hands, out of Aragon's bag. He tore off small strips and covered the "MONE" with them. Then he took the bottle of polish and dauber from Aragon and painted a "$" sign on the tape. This met with Art's approval, so he dictated the last line: "P.S. FOR CITY OF HOPE." One of Aragon's handlers then was designated to carry the sign into the ring and display it prominently before the introductions were made. But when it came time for the Golden Boy's procession-consisting of Art in a GOLD robe to enter the ring, the crewman forgot the sign amid the last minute hustle and bustle. Aragon's thought was there, though. He had sincerely wanted t do his part to help the City of Hope, a local cancer and tuberculosis sanitorium.

Art "Golden Boy" Aragon

When Aragon fought Billy Graham at the Olympic, few persons realized that the only sparring the Golden Boy did in preparation for the then top ranking welterweight contender was one round a day for some five days. Art said he was afraid he would re-injure the knuckles of his left hand which had given him trouble in preceding fights. Aragon tired in the late rounds, losing a close decision which was criticized by the Los Angeles press.
The Golden Boy, sixth of 11 children, was born November 13, 1927, on his parents' cattle ranch in Belan, New Mexico. a town of 3,000 population 30 miles south of Albuquerque. With the Aragon children waging a winning population battle with the cattle, papa Aragon found himself facing a financial burden. To alleviate the situation, Art, at the age of 2, was sent to live with a childless aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Eddie Gallegos, in Albuquerque. In Art's early years there were no indications of his ever becoming a professional fighter. He was a member in good standing of the Boy Scouts Of America, and Gallegos a localy-noted guitar player, Influenced Art to take violin lessons for six years. He didn't have a street fight until he took a job as a delivery boy in a drug store when he was 12 years old. When Aragon was 15 he sought his fortune Los Angeles and took a job in a dairy lifting empty milk cases onto a conveyor belt. Working with him was a belligerent fellow about three years older and some 30 pounds heavier then Art, then a scrawny 120-pounder. This fellow took delight in roughing up Art, and once when he was in the process, the foreman Lee Boren, caught him at it. Art thought it would cost both of them their jobs, but Boren, who trained fighters as a sideline, took Art aside and said to him, "If you let me train you for a month, you'll be able to beat him." Aragon was skeptical, but agreed. Every day after work Boren would take Art out into the alley in the back of Boren's house and patiently teach him how to move his feet and how to jab. Finally, when he thought Art was ready, he arranged the showdown battle in a old carriage house he rented to use for a gym. Art won, and that was the begining of a fighter-manager partnership. Aragon found out early what it was like to score a knockout. In his very first amateur fight he knocked his opponent to the floor for the count in the first 10 seconds of the fight. When he returned to his corner he said to Boren, "Get somebody else. This guy didn't want to fight. What will people think?"

Mel Epstein, a great mind of "Old School" Systolic breathing . . .

By Rick Farris

Like the "old school trainer" fraternity in which he was vested member, Mel Epstein, knew the tricks of the boxing trade. How to get an edge.
Having an edge can make a big difference, and Mel was concerned about my deep breathing, my oxygen consumption during a bout.

Mel was not a "certified" anything, like the so-called educated gurus who charge champs six figures today.
Actual experience was Mel's guide, advice from the likes of Dempsey's trainer, Teddy Hayes, and Ray Arcel back in the Benny Leonard days.
He also got some advice from another valued source, his mother.

"Mrs. Epstein, of the Boston Epsteins," Mel would kid, was an opera singer when Mel was a young lad.
She learned to breathe as a singer breathes, pulling oxygen deep into the body, beneath the lungs into the upper stomach.
"It's called systolic breathing, and that is what I'm going to teach you," Mel promised.
He continued, "My mother taught me, and I saw Dempsey practicing it but they didn't call it systolic breathing. That was my mother's term, and my mother was educated, you know, she came from a good family."
Mel was right, I began to breathe different and it also aided my runs with Bob Seagren.

Mel did some boxing, and has the nose to prove he was probably best suited in management, training and promotion - and he did it all!
Today a college degree and good line of bullshit will land documented smoke blower a spot on some champ's ship of fools. A "Physical trainer."
Mel is rolling in his grave, and he's laughing.

Just last week I saw a "physical advisor" on TV who is going to mentor a world champ on the "bodies rhythm".
He will try to show the athlete how to take deep breath, using a computor screen, high tech graffics and statistics.
The physical advisor will need the finest in high tech equipment attempting to demostrate his theory.
All Mel needed was a good story about his mother and a quick demonstration. Everyday he'd remind me as I walked along side him.
We'd be walking down Wilshire Blvd., near Vermont, Mel would bark . . . "Breathe deep, into your stomach. Systolic breathing."
I'd begin to breath to his staisfaction and then he would bark, "Toes in! Walk with your toes pointed inward, punchers are pigeon-toed!"

That's what he'd tell me as we walked . . . "Breathe, toes in!"
Mel Epstein, he was really something. Bless his soul.

Genaro remembered well . . . It's True: The Good Indeed Die Young

By Steve Kim

For the last several years, former two-time super featherweight champion Genaro Hernandez had battled a rare form of cancer that had plagued his neck and head. It was thought to be in remission in 2009, only to return in 2010. Throughout it all, the humble man we called “Chicanito” fought valiantly. Once a fixture at ringside, where he played various roles from commentating on fights for Spanish networks to his duties for CompuBox, no matter what condition he was in, Hernandez was always in good spirits.

You didn’t have to ask how he felt. You could see it. Whether it was his emaciated look, the hair loss or the hue of his skin, you knew this was a sick man. In recent times, we’d see less of Genaro but through it all, he was, at his core, the same guy that made him a universally beloved figure in the boxing community.

Hernandez would constantly speak of fighting the good fight and staying positive, not just for himself but his wife Liliana and his two kids, Amanda (age 19) and Steven (age 11). He had too much to live for- prom dates to give the once over to, graduations to attend, kids to send off to college and eventually becoming a grandfather. Hernandez’s real life was just heading into the middle rounds.

Hernandez knew he was a heavy underdog but the fighter who was once inflicted with brittle hands kept punching as long as he could.

On May 4th, his brother, Rudy Hernandez, sent out this text message: "My brother will be sent home and take the weekend to spend with his family because it could be the last one he has with them outside of the hospital. His cancer got aggressive and took over."

“Chicanito” fought the good fight but he knew it was time to throw in the towel. Chemotherapy, which had taken so much from him, could do no more. This past Tuesday at 3:04 PM, at his home in Mission Viejo, CA, he passed away, surrounded by his family and loved ones.

I’m sure most of you know about his career inside the ring, where he cut his teeth as a boxer at the Great Western Forum. Hernandez eventually captured the 130-pound title twice, once memorably against Azumah Nelson (when he decided to fight on instead of forcing a disqualification for a punch after the bell) and his disappointing night against Oscar De La Hoya and a career-ending performance versus Floyd Mayweather were the only two losses in his 41-fight career. He was a skilled practitioner of the “Sweet Science” who used his freakish size (5’11”) as a 130-pounder to artfully outbox his foes. Hernandez wasn’t necessarily spectacular but he was a steady and polished prizefighter. As his record shows, you had to be more than just “good” to defeat him.

But why he was so well-liked and respected really had nothing to do with his accomplishments inside the ring. It was the person he was outside of it. Whether you were a fellow world champion, media member, trainer, cutman or fan, you could not find a nicer, more gracious individual. Hernandez was the very definition of humility and grace. Genaro was a better individual than he was a boxer; there is no debating that.

His brother, also a former fighter (ultimately becoming his trainer), says, "He was a genuine gentleman, as [Top Rank matchmaker] Bruce Trampler put it. He was a genuine gentleman."

There was an everyman quality and a certain normalcy to Hernandez and in many ways, he was the embodiment of that. While he had a storied career and made some money, he still had to go out into the real world and make a living for his family as he retired, which was just fine by him. If that involved boxing, even better. What Rudy will remember most about his brother is, "that he never thought he was better than anybody else and that his whole thing was if he could only be treated equally to a guy who was a four-round fighter, then he could be happy with that. It took him a long time to get used to the fact that people called him ’champ’."

This reporter began covering boxing back in 1996 (Where does the time go?) and the now-closed L.A. Boxing was the first gym I visited on a regular basis. It was there where I secured my first relationships with world-class fighters like Hernandez and an up-and-coming lightweight that was the best-kept secret on the West Coast by the name of Shane Mosley. They were frequent sparring partners (and it was Mosley that broke Hernandez’s nose before his bout against De La Hoya in 1995, effectively taking away any chance he had of beating the “Golden Boy”) and as I found out like anyone else, Hernandez was as accommodating as any athlete I have ever covered.

From being a guest on my radio show (the long-lost “Main Event” on KIEV and later, XTRA 1150) to coverage from my early days as a scribe at HouseofBoxing.com, Hernandez could always be counted on to be a real pro. After his retirement in 1998, he would jump over to our side of the ropes and work as a member of the media as an analyst. He was eventually hired by Top Rank (whose leader Bob Arum, sans fanfare, covered the cost of Hernandez’s medical bills along with Akihiko Honda of Teiken Promotions and the WBC) to do their international broadcasts.

His partner?

Yours Truly.

As news of Hernandez’s passing spread through the boxing world, I received this email from Rick Seara, who, at the time, was the executive producer of those telecasts:

"Hey, I know you are aware already. I just wanted to say that some of my funnest memories were with you and Genaro working together in the States and in Mexico. You guys made a good team and always brought out the best in each other. Heaven just got classier with a great champion.

Rick"

For the better part of a year between 1999 and 2000, it was “Chicanito” and me behind the mic. Being that we both lived in Southern California, we would get booked on the same flights in and out of LAX, traveling to the likes of Madison, Wisconsin, Boise, Idaho and Chihuahua, Mexico, calling various fight cards. We had a familiar pattern. We’d fly in together, share a cab, get our per diem from Top Rank site coordinator Jay Edson (another real “boxing guy” who is greatly missed) and then go eat. Hernandez and I had some great memories on the road. Running like hell in Madison from a torrential downpour in the middle of August after eating dinner at a local diner. Genaro somehow getting us upgraded to first-class on the way home to Los Angeles one time after just chatting with the ticket agent in St. Paul. Calling the classic first encounter between Marco Antonio Barrera and Erik Morales (we were actually on the ring apron right next to the HBO crew) at the Mandalay Bay. In the immediate aftermath of that pitched battle, Arum- who promoted “El Terrible”- looked down at us from the ring and asked who we had winning. In unison, we blurted out, “Barrera.” Arum just rolled his eyes. Then there was the time just minutes from the first edition of Shane Mosley-Oscar De La Hoya at the Staples Center when I lost my color guy because he was also committed to work for HBO Latino (Hey, the guy was in demand). Seara nearly had a heart attack and just like that, I was a solo act that evening.

Those were good times. I learned a lot about boxing from Hernandez but what I really learned was what type of person he was. There was not one time I can recall that he turned down an autograph or a photo for an admiring fan or anyone that wanted to strike up a conversation with him about boxing as he hung out in the hotel lobby. From a grassroots level, Hernandez was as good an ambassador as the sport ever had. He was boxing’s version of Will Rogers.

This past weekend, his former colleague at CompuBox, Joe Carnicelli, let everyone in press row at the Staples Center know that things were looking grave for our friend. Word spread quickly; most of us already knew but just hearing it again was disturbing.

At age 45, a life well lived was coming to an end. This upcoming Monday starting at 11 AM, services in Hernandez’s honor will be held at the Resurrection Church in East Los Angeles (3324 Opal St. The cross streets are 8th and Lorena). He will be buried with his WBC belt around his waist, his Teiken jumpsuit on and a pair of boxing gloves on his hands. Yeah, he’s a fighter…even now. His brother says, "I hope a lot of people show up and I want his son, who’s only 11 years old…I hope that he can see the impact on who his dad was."

Rudy said his goodbye on Sunday night as “Chicanito” lay in bed.

"I was literally on top of him, face-to-face, and I told him, ’We did good, huh?’ and the big ol’ smile of his, he just gave me that smile and he said, ’Yeah, we did good’ and he shook his head like, ’Yeah, we did really good’ and then he just kinda laid back on that pillow and he pretty much went into rest that night.

"He went to sleep and that’s the last time we ever saw him smile."

maxboxing.com

R.I.P.....Genaro 'Chicanito' Hernandez

From the latimes


Two-time world super-featherweight champion

Genaro "Chicanito" Hernandez, 45, who ascended through the Southern California boxing ranks to become a two-time world super-featherweight champion, died Tuesday after more than two years battling cancer, boxing publicist Bill Caplan said.

Hernandez had a 38-2-1 record with 17 knockouts in a career that stretched from 1984 to 1998 and included victories over Azumah Nelson, Carlos Hernandez and Jorge Paez. His only losses were to Oscar De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather Jr.

Hernandez had spent recent years as a TV boxing analyst.

A Los Angeles native, Hernandez lived in Mission Viejo. He and his wife, Liliana, had a son and a daughter.

Old Baldy vs. Old Bones - SI June/1/1959

Defending his lightweight title, Joe Brown stakes it against Paolo Rosi
by Martin Kane


The lightweight division, the one in which there is more action in the ring than in the hearing rooms of boxing commissions, has a modest surplus of legitimate contenders for the title. One of these worthy opponents, ranked No. 3 by the National Boxing Association, gets a proper chance at the championship in Washington, D.C. next week.

This No. 3 contender is Paolo Rosi, a balding bleeder in his 30s, a naturalized Italian who has proudly named one of his sons Dwight (for Ike) and the other Kenneth because it is so American. Paolo is essentially a club fighter, grotesque in style but remarkably effective against prettier men. On the night of June 3 he will be up against one of the prettier and prosier-named champions, Joe Brown, in one of the more attractive of TV's Wednesday Night Fights.

Joe has been a fighting champion, as the term is measured in these days of high taxes that generally make it unprofitable for a titleholder to risk his championship more than a couple of times a year. This will be Brown's seventh defense in little more than two years, and his 100th professional fight in 13 years of campaigning. Before that he was the Navy's lightweight champion during World War II, winning 16 fights between seven landings in the Pacific.

In contrast to Rosi, who is principally a slugger and taker, Brown is in the tradition of the truly knowing masters of the moves.

Paolo's brown eyes are ever a clear and present danger to his survival. He has had mounds of sensitive scar tissue removed from above them by surgery. But even so he has not lost a fight since December 1956, when he was stopped in the seventh (on a cut) by Baby Vasquez. Since then Paolo has rehabilitated himself with a decision over Vasquez and has destroyed the hopes of such wistful fellows as Frankie Ryff and Bobby Scanlon, both of whom, like Joe Brown, are sleek boxers. (What they lack, though, is the essential wisdom of the even sleeker Brown.) Paolo has, furthermore, beaten Johnny Busso, a club fighter who beat Brown when the title was not at stake, then made Brown look less than magnificent when the title was at stake.

The Brown-Rosi fight is, therefore, a natural sort of match, since it pits a sturdy puncher with a good left hook, conqueror of stylists and starchers, against a boxer-puncher of the old school, a sly trickster who can hit with either hand and doesn't care which.

Brown, who is known as Old Bones although he is a mere 33 by the official count and has not begun to approach the venerable status of an Archie Moore, has shown recent signs that he is about ready to be taken—not necessarily by Rosi but certainly, in due course, by one of the higher-ranking contenders.

There is, for instance, top-ranked Kenny Lane, the southpaw who was a mere point away from a draw and two points from the title when he met Brown last July at Houston. There is Carlos Ortiz, the young No. 2 challenger, a superior boxer and stout puncher now about to campaign against Lane in the regrettably revived junior welterweight division. On a good night, with a little bit of luck, either of these fighters might take Brown.

And so, for that matter, might Rosi, assuming that Old Bones is really over the hill, that time has drawn the temper of his ancipital weapons, and that he is about ready, as he himself has hinted in informal discourse, to pack it in for a lifetime of rest and contemplation of the better things.

The first hint that the end might be in sight for this once murderous puncher came on the night of the Lane fight, when his failure to handle an awkward situation with more than adequate grace was put down to the fact that he was baffled by Lane's southpaw stance and delivery. It was a forgivable lapse, but then in his next fight Brown was actually beaten by Busso in a 10-round over-the-weight contest. Well, it was assumed, that just meant Old Joe was shrewdly losing for the double purpose of building up a return match against Busso—this time for the title—and was trying to avoid a return match against Lane, who clearly deserved one. Still, when the title was at stake in the second Busso fight, Old Bones looked just barely good enough to win—and you can throw out some lopsided Houston judging in his favor.


This is not to suggest that Old Baldy is going to beat Old Bones. The odds at this distance from the fight seem a correct 2 to 1 in the champion's favor. But this coming Wednesday night will be a time to look keenly at Joe for those signs of disintegration that presage an early change in the championship.