Monday, February 27, 2012

Aragon/Andrade...Aug. 1956.

Art Aragon, still keeping his weight a much publicized secret, moved his training camp entourage to Pop Soper's spot in Ojai today to put on the finiishing touches for his Aug. 29 match with Cisco Andrade. Under a bond to make 144 1/2 pounds, Art refused to get on the scales for the benefit of the press yesterday during drills at the Hollywood Legion Stadium. Golden Boy wouldn't weigh himself until everybody cleared out and door was locked. However, it appears he isn't having too much trouble shaving off his extra poundage, and although he still scales somewhere in the vicinity of 152 his last 10 days at Soper's figures to do the job. Incidentally, another smash crowd of over 2000 fans turned out yesterday for the "Sunday Workouts" at Hollywood.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

ART ARAGON TAKES WORST BEATING OF HIS CAREER.

The Golden Boy's last hurrah

Los Angeles, Jan. 22-Art Aragon, the "Golden Boy" of California boxing, went out last night like the champion he never became. But, as he was leaving, he hesitated-suggesting perhaps that he might be back. Aragon, a boxer for half his 32 years, said he would quit if he lost this one to Alvaro Gutierrez, a bullish clubfighter from Mexico. He lost. Art was bloody, bushed and beaten when Referee Tommy Hart stopped it in the ninth round. But if his competence was gone, his courage persisted. He was ready to go on when Hart put his arms around him and said: "It's all over Art, It's all over"

The United Press representative at ringside said Gutierrez handed Aragon his worst beating of his 16-year career). Aragon, talkative and provocative, usually gets a lot of abuse from the fight crowd. This time, many of the 8100 at the Olympic Auditorium gave him a standing ovation, some of them shouting as though carried away by the final act of a tragic opera. Aragon, still fast with the quip though slow of arm, had nothing funny to say in the dressing room. But he didn't say what he was supposed to-that he will retire. "I want to think about it a couple of days," he said. Then the ancient fighter's lament: "I could have won if I'd fought a different fight." A writer at ringside agreed: "He could have won, all right, if the fight had been 10 years ago"

Whatever Aragon decides, his manager is through with him as a fighter. Paul Caruso said he would terminate their business relationship if Aragon lost and insisted on fighting again. Aragon presented flashbacks of his former self early in the fight, even though he was knocked down for a three-count in the first round. Art had a good second round and got in some nice shots in the third, although fewer then Gutierrez. Then in the fourth, Aragon scored with a sharp combination and gave the Mexican the wobbles. Art might have been only one punch away from a knockout, but he never landed it. Aragon was obviously weary after the fourth. He accumulated punishment almost constantly from then until Hart stepped between the fighters in the ninth...

GOLDEN BOY MEETS GUDER

This fight never happened

Art Aragon is not exactly the world's most charming personality. Most of the time he's happy to admit it. He works hard to irritate. It's part of his bread and butter. Long ago he discovered that villains make better copy, have flashier cars and are longer remembered. But the Golden Boy has decided to make an exception to his rule and momentarily play it straight.

At the risk of being stamped a sentimentalist and a nice guy, Arthur has become the central figure in a charity fight April 25 at Hollywood Legion Stadium. Largely through Art's effort, the match will produce funds for former boxer Julian Velasquez, a local featherweight prospect who suffered serious brain injury last year in a bout against Eddie Gasporra at Hollywood. Surgery saved Julian's life, but he's still unable to work, and the little money he earned from boxing has long been gone.

Although Art's opponent in the bout-Karl Guder-is not quite what you would call a fierce foe, the program rates support from evey ring fan. Art himself will turn over part of his purse as will Aragon's manager, Paul Caruso. There will also be a couple of small raffles and donations can be sent to "The Julian Velasquez Fund" in care of Hollywood Stadium.

Altogether they hope to raise at least $2000 for Velasquez, enough to to put down on a small home for him and his family (wife and one child) and start him learning a trade he can handle. From the begining of Julian's troubles, Aragon has kept in close touch. It wasn't known to the public, but Harry Kabakoff, former manager of the stricken fighter, says Aragon has repeatedly sent money to help the fighter with food and clothing for the past year. Art was actually the first to suggest the charity bout. So this one time the Golden Boy deserves a cheer. As for the fight itself, it will mark Aragon's first start since his controversial 4th round "no decision" kayo over Charlie Sawyer in the same ring. Aragon hopes it will lead to a clash here later this year with Don Jordan for the welterweight championship-depending, of course on how Jordan comes out in his title rematch with Virgil Akins April 24 in St. Louis.

Both Aragon and Guder knocked out Ramon Tiscareno, were held to draws by Frankie Belma, and beaten by Joe Miceli in fights against common opponents. However Guder doesn't have the power to play with Art on one of his better nights. I think Aragon will win in a breeze. But the big winner will be Velasquez in this one. And also the fans who take part..

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Art Aragon/Reybon Stubbs...December 3, 1959...

BIG MONEY CAREER OVER FOR SRUGGLING ARAGON

Even if he refuses to follow the avalanche of advice from his freinds and decides instead to continue fighting, Art Aragon is doomed as a big money gate attraction. Despite his struggling efforts to the contrary, the handwriting has been shouting on the wall ever since Art was pasted by Carmen Basilio before a California record $236,531 crowd in September 1958. But it wasn't until his one-sided loss to Reybon Stubbs that anybody would really believe it.

Now, even his dreams of one last big money battle with Battling Torres or Don Jordan have been smashed. The State Athletic Commission might not even sanction matches. Aragon would be in real physical danger. Against Stubbs, Art's reflexes and legs (despite the fact he had trained well and was in good condition) were gone.

Not a heavy puncher, Stubbs actually toyed with Aragon as he outboxed him all the way, winning nine of 10 rounds on the cards of nearly every ringside reporter. Nevertheless, Aragon as always, made it exciting. He kept chasing Stubbs trying to get over one big punch. But it was pathetic and futile. Aragon had the desire, but no longer the equipment. His big punch has vanished.

Looking back, he's had a fabulous career-15 years, most of it as the No. 1 attraction in Los Angeles. Even near the end here in 1959, he managed to win seven, drop only two. But the magic is gone. Fans realize now more then ever that he can't beat any really good opponents. The Stubbs bout drew well (but not impressive for an Aragon match) as 5500 fans turned up to pay a gross gate of 10,566. It will get worse if he continues.

Art "Golden Boy" Aragon...

The Golden Boy. A legend with a devastating left hook matched only by his matinee idol looks. a celebrity among celebrities. The most popular fighter in Los Angeles, guaranteed to pack the house. And yet one simultaneously loved and despised by LA's Mexican fight fans. Oscar who? No, we're talking about boxing's original Golden Boy. Art Aragon. Possessor of a gaudy 87-16-6 record, with 60 KOs, Art Aragon was the Golden Boy during the golden age of boxing in Los Angeles. This remarkable lifgtweight and welterweight, enjoyed a career spanning sixteen years, during which time he fought, and defeated, some of the toughest in the game. "I coulda gone further," he reflected "My biggest drawback, looking over my life, I didn't like to train, the most I ever trained in my life was a month, six weeks. I didn't like training. Jim Murray asked me one time 'Art, we know you hate training. What do you hate the most? The boxing, the sparring, the roadwork?' I said 'yes!. His career was interrupted by military service in 1945-46, during which time he had no fights for a twelve month period, and again from late 1946 through early 1948 fighting only once in 1947. "I quit fighting for a while. I was a young kid, and I may have gotten robbed, and I was very disappointed in boxing, and I gave it up." Yet, when asked what got him back into it, he responds, characteristically, "You can't stop being an idiot. Once an idiot, always an idiot!" Aragon returned with a vengeance, fighting thirty five times from 1948 through 1950. The next year, he fought Jimmy Carter twice, decision him in 10 and then losing by decision in 15, his only championship shot. Deadpanning Aragon muses, "When I fought him, I was fighting at 142, and it's tough getting down to 135 [It was so hard making weight] I was the only fighter they ever carried into the ring! "Good fighter. I won the first five rounds, and ran out of gas. And he won the last 40 rounds!" Momentarily introspective, Aragon remarks, "I thank god, and I mean this sincerely, anybody that had as many fights as I did can't even talk. I know a good fighter, won't mention his name. Good fighter, great fighter, champion. [I said] 'Hi, how are you, good to see you again.' And you know what he said to me? 'Bwoa duow bla.' And I believed him!" ...

Art Aragon...The Original Golden Boy...

When Aragon fought, he became the surest thing to a guaranteed sell out when he apeared on fight cards from the 1940s to 1960. The lightweight slugger from East Los Angeles packed them in with people looking to see him knock out or get knocked out. Outside the ring he proved just as irresistible to fans and onlookers who saw the prizefighter regularly clown and joke his way in and out of trouble, Hollywood was captivated with the charismatic Aragon. Many recall Aragon's womanizing ways and willingness to accept dares to seduce an unsuspecting female, Aragon would often tell friends, "Do you think I could get that girl?". Many observers said that despite Aragon's penchant for the Hollywood nightlife, once he got in the ring he became a different human being. The closest the Golden Boy came to a world championship came in 1951 when he beat champion Jimmy Carter in a non-title affair at the Olympic. Three months later they fought again, a weight drained Aragon lost over 15 rounds with the lightweight title on the line, being dropped twice along the way. He did get revenge when he met Carter a third time five years later, Aragon battered Carter for 10 rounds in an easy victory, weighing 142, Art always said "At 142 I'd fight Joe Louis"

Sunday, February 19, 2012

California Boxing Hall of Fame Induction Luncheon...2006

By Greg Beyer

Photos by Frank Baltazar, Sr.

STUDIO CITY, Calif., August 19, 2006 – Songwriter Singer Willie Nelson once said in a song that his heroes have always been cowboys. For me, they have always been fighters.

For me, boxing is the highest form of athletic endeavor. Former professional boxer Frankie Baltazar told me at the California boxing hall of fame luncheon this weekend that, just like me being in little league or any other kid being in soccer, that boxing was just the sport that he took up. He was raised in it and to him it seemed natural. A statement of that kind helps me realize why I have idolized fighters for so many years.

In a baseball game, in football, basketball, sometimes athletes are injured. In boxing it is a guarantee. These fighters that enter a ring to do combat, to put their courage and fighting hearts on display to an arena filled with fans are in essence the most amazing of all athletes. We watch them, we cheer them on while they are still young enough and able enough to compete in this violent sport and then to most of us they disappear. For me, since they were all heroes of mine, I wondered about them after they have left the arena for good. Are they okay? Do they have regrets? Has life awarded them in any way for the fact that they had the guts to put it all on the line for a bit of glory, for meager pay and the endless suffering they endured just to be able to compete in a sport so few would ever consider entering into.

This past Saturday at the Sportsmen’s Lodge in Studio City, California, a selected group of these courageous souls were honored for their achievements in the world of professional boxing in the state of California.

Honorees this year in the boxing category included the following:

Randy Shields

Hedgemon Lewis

Tony Baltazar

Frankie Baltazar Jr.

Carlos Palomino

Gabriel Ruelas

Rafael Ruelas

Jorge Paez

Meeting the Baltazar brothers along with their father, trainer, manager and CBZ stalwart Frank Baltazar, Sr. was a special treat for CBZ editor Stephen (“The, 'Ol Spit Bucket”) Gordon and myself. We flew down from Washington State to finally get a chance to meet and honor the entire Baltazar family on their well-deserved day of glory. I have to say here how impressed I was with the beauty and graciousness of Frankie and Tony as well as their entire family. Seated a few tables away form us, they made a special effort to come over and speak to "The Bucket" and I and we appreciated their courtesy and good-natured conversation immensely.

In the non-boxer category another CBZ regular being inducted into the hall was none other than the venerable former Hollywood legion stadium matchmaker Gabriel "Hap" Navarro. Pictured in the program was "Hap" in a circa 1950s photo showing a dashing young Hispanic in the mold of a Rudolf Valentino. While this stunning photo lit up that page of the program I suddenly realized it would make it hard for us to search out "Hap" in the crowd before the ceremony began. This dilemma was alleviated when none other than another of my life long idols Rodolfo "el Gato" Gonzalez came up to us and said "Hap wants to meet you guys" and took us to his table where "Hap", eyes tearing up, said how proud he was to finally meet us and how glad he was that we made the trip down. My heart swelled when he asked how long it had been since I had left my hometown of San Pedro, California. How wonderful that he remembered where I was born. What a day!

Former boxing promoter Don Fraser who sponsored this event put on an excellent show, which was evidenced by the huge crowd, filled with many respected and formerly honored boxing greats. Among them was my personal all-time favorite, Danny "Little Red" Lopez, and his lovely wife and life-long friend Bonnie. What a joy it was to be able to tell Danny that I followed his entire career and how glad I was to see that Danny, after all those wars, is still the same fine gentleman that I saw stepping into the ring to face Steve Frajole at the Olympic auditorium in his very first pro fight so many years ago.

What a particular joy it was for "The Bucket" and I to be able to hug and shake hands with our own Rodolfo "el Gato " Gonzalez and his wonderful companion, Barbara. For them to be so glad to meet us was a heart rendering experience I will never forget.

These great fighters and wonderful people I met Saturday. They are well. They survived. What a beautiful day it was to see that so many of my heroes made it through that tough arena and that "The Bucket" and I were there to share this special day with them.

I got back to Washington early Sunday morning with memories confirming what I have always known...my heroes have always been fighters.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Ray Luna

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Ray Luna was a very well respected boxing man out of Los Angeles. Ray was active in Los Angeles boxing starting in the late 1940s working as a trainer/corner-man and manager for well-known Los Angeles fighters such as Art Aragon (corner man), he managed keeny Teran, Carlos Chavez and world bantamweight champion Manuel Ortiz (albeit late in their careers) et al. Ray was the trainer and manager of Ortiz at the time Ortiz fought and lost the bantamweight title to Vic Toweel in South Africa in 1950.

When not busy in boxing Ray worked as a bartender.

Ray and California Boxing Hall of Fame President Don Fraser were very good friends when both were single man and Ray’s bartender's job gave both a chance to meet the ladies, the boxing groupies of that era you could say.

For you that have seen the 1952 movie, “The Ring”, you can see Ray in the dressing room scene with Art Aragon.

Ray Luna died in the mid-‘80s.

Williams/Bolanos-1949

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Saturday, February 11, 2012

1951 Fight for Life

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By Frank “kiki” Baltazar

In 1951 when I was a fifteen year old kid I used to ride the bus and streetcar from the Simons Brickyard to the Teamsters Gym in downtown L.A. to spar with Keeny Teran as he was getting ready for his fight with Gil Cadilli. Keeny and Gil were two hot prospects at the time. Back then prospects didn’t shy away from fighting each other as they were coming up the ranks. Keeny who was two or three years older than me and a way better fighter than me didn’t try to hurt me in our sparring sessions. He would use our sparring sessions to sharpen-up his boxing skills. Move, jab, move, jab, is what he did in our sparring sessions. I, of course was just thrill to be in the same ring with Keeny Teran. Keeny and I only sparred a few times; as there were times when he would have to go to the Main Street Gym to get some heavy sparring with some of the local pros.

Keeny was a small guy who at the age of 18 looked like he was fourteen years old or younger. But, if you tried to take advantage of his youthful looks in the ring he would make sure you paid for it.

The Teran v Cadilli fight was between two cross-town rivals. Cadilli had an eight and one record; whereas Keeny was undefeated in six fights. It was a fight that on its own merits would have sold out the Legion. The main-event was Enrique Bolanos and Eddie Chavez in a twelve rounder. The Bolanos v Chavez fight was the 1951 “Fight for Life” where some of the gate proceeds would go to the City of Hope Cancer Hospital. “Fight for Life” was a big yearly event and it was decided by matchmaker, Hap Navarro, to make this the, 1951 Fight for Life card, the greatest card in the history of the yearly event, which in my opinion it was.

On fight night, June 22, 1951. My uncles, Tony Ramos, Ray Gonzalez and I jumped in Uncle Ray’s 1948 Chevy coupe to drive to the Hollywood Legion Stadium to see Keeny and Gil fight the six round semi main. As we walked into the sold-out; smoke-filled arena you could feel the electricity in the air. It felt so heavy that it seemed like you could have sliced it with a knife. And I felt proud to have been close to Keeny Teran who played a big part in creating the electricity that the fans were feeling that night in the Golden Age of Southern California boxing.

The Teran/Cadilli fight started fast with Keeny having the upper hand in the first four rounds. Cadilli came on strong in the last two rounds to make it a close fight, but not strong enough to win the fight in my opinion. I thought keeny had won the fight, but the fight was called a draw. Maybe I was bias.

The Bolanos v Chavez match; which was a California state lightweight title fight, was an action pack fight, with first one than the other having the upper hand. In the end Enrique Bolanos walked out of the ring with a unanimous decision.

June 22, 1951 was a great night for me.

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Tuesday, February 7, 2012

With Jimmy Monyoya in New York City

By Frank “kiki” Baltazar
Edit by Phil Rice

Jimmy Montoya really burst onto the boxing scene from out of nowhere in 1977. He soon was booking more than fifty fighters, mostly from Mexico, all over the world. He had a guy drive a van full of fighters all over the west coast, filling out cards whenever and wherever there was a need. Thus, the van became known as "The Meat Wagon".

Jimmy was not an especially good boxing teacher, probably because he didn't have any boxing experience. He was an excellent conditioner though. He had gotten into boxing thru a brother who was managing their cousin, Rudy Robles. The brother got in hot water and had to go to jail for a few years. He turned Robles over to Jimmy, and like they say, the rest is history. In the early '80's Jimmy became Bob Arum's preliminary matchmaker for Bob's Vegas fights.

In the winter of 1982, I went with my sons Frankie and Tony to New York City for a meeting with Don King; Jimmy Montoya was also there. After we had been there for about four days, Jimmy and I were dying for some Mexican food, so we went out to find some. While walking down 8th Avenue we saw a place with a big sign: "Mexican Food-Burritos." We walked in and some Puerto Ricans were running the joint. We turned right around and walked out.

We walked another block until we saw an Italian place. We decided to go in and have some spaghetti and meatballs. As we're sitting waiting for our food, we could hear voices coming from the back of the place. I got up and walked to the back to check it out.

"Just some guys shooting pool," I said to Jimmy.

While we were eating Jimmy asked me if I had any money on me.

"I got some. Why?"

"Lend me forty bucks," he said.

When we finished eating we went back to where the guys were shooting pool. Jimmy asked if he could play.

"Sure, but we play for money."

"That's okay" said Jimmy.

After two or three games Jimmy was down to his last ten dollars. He puts the ten bucks on one last game. He won the game.

"I want a rematch," the guy tells Jimmy.

"Sure," Jimmy said. Jimmy beats him again. Two more games and the dude is broke.

Another guy played Jimmy, and after a few games Jimmy broke him, too.

Then the first guy Jimmy played got on the phone. Twenty minutes or so later a guy walked in with a stick in a real fancy case. He got it on with Jimmy, and while Jimmy was playing this guy, the first one was getting drunk.

Jimmy broke this one, too. By this time the first guy was so stinking drunk that he could barely stand up, but he staggered up to Jimmy and said, "You're good, but you drink too f*#king much."

Jimmy won eight hundred bucks. Since he played and won with my forty dollars, I got four hundred bucks.

We were in New York City for a Don King press-conference. It was to be held in a very fancy hotel. Men’s attire was suit and tie. As Jimmy and I were walking back to our hotel, he told me that he didn’t bring a suit.

“Well. Jimmy, you just won four hundred bucks. Buy one.”

“Hey! I can do that; let’s find a Men’s store.”

We found one on 42th St. Jimmy looked at some suits and settled on a bluish one, if I remember right. The pants legs were altered in no time and Jimmy had a new suit.

After getting all dressed up the following day in suits, ties, and, since it was a cold February afternoon, also in overcoats, we left to walk to the press conference.

After a short walk in the snow we arrived at the classy hotel. We walked into a big ballroom where the press conference was to be held. We soon met Don King and he introduced us to actress/singer Eartha Kitt, actor/dancer Gregory Hines, singer James Brown, and political activist Al Sharpton.

We slipped out of our overcoats and found our table. We had been sitting for about twenty minutes when I happened to look at Jimmy’s suit sleeve; I leaned over and whispered in his ear: “Jimmy, look at your sleeve.” Jimmy looked at his left sleeve and right away he put his arm under the table and started pulling off the price tag. Guess he didn't want any of the high rollers to know he bought his suit "off the rack."

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Bum

A Fictional Short Story

By Randy De La O


In the days leading up to the fight he heard the talk. “He won't make it to the second round” “He doesn't stand a chance, the bum”. “He has no heart” said another.

Thirty-nine years of age, fifty-nine fights, losing half and stopped in most Still he fought on. It was all he knew. At the weigh in, he stepped on the scales. No more cheers for this tired old fighter. The crowed snickered and the press ignored him. His best days were a decade ago.

Once, he was an up and comer but then came the losses, than the ridicule and then the moniker “Bum”. Now he fought only to survive. He stepped back from the scale. Watched as his opponent was weighed. Lean, sinewy and young. The crowd roared their approval. “You'll kill the bum, kid, he's got no heart”.

It's the morning of the fight now, your wife and kids watching as you get your gear together. You look into their eyes and you see yourself as they see you, and you begin to believe again. “Maybe, you think to yourself, just maybe.”

You are alone with your trainer in your dressing room. The days when your room was filled with the press, the boxing crowd, leeches and beautiful chaos is long gone. No one cares anymore. The world loves a winner.

You can hear the roar of the crowd from your room. Another knockout. Another bum knocked into oblivion, and another up and coming fighter moving up the rankings.

You hear your name called. It's time to make the ring walk. You look at your cornerman and he says to you, “Just do your best son, just do your best. He's young and strong, don't get careless”. You smile and begin your walk.

As you make the walk, you begin to hear the jeers and laughter. Someone throws a soda at you. You hear the laughter and your mind begins to think about your old trainer, long dead, who once said to you “What's he got that you ain't got? A head with a brain in it, two arms, two legs and two feet? What's he got you ain't got?” And again, you begin to believe.

You step into the ring, you hear the boos and you wait. You pace up ad down the ring. Something you haven't done in a while. You are suddenly anxious. Feels like old times maybe. You look at your trainer and he smiles.

As the young opponent climbs into the ring the crowd roars it's approval and he prances around the ring. He looks at you and sneers and you think to yourself “What's he got that I ain't got?” You smile at him.

The introductions are made and the first round begins. Almost immediately his jab is in your face. You can't avoid it. He's fast. He backs you up and the crowd goes wild. “I'm okay” you tell yourself. It continues like that for the rest of the round. Jab, jab, right hand and an occasional left hook to the body. “Predictable” you think to yourself.

“Follow that jab” says the trainer, “Follow that jab! Don't just stand there!” You can hear him faintly but your mind begins to wander and you remember how you fought the best in your day. Didn't win them all "but you fought the best” and you begin to believe again.

As the next round begins the kid throws two careless jabs and you follow them home with a right hand and a left hook and the kid goes down. He's never been down before, this kid, and panic sets in and he jumps up and goes crazy. You've been here before you remind yourself.

You look across the ring as you sit in the stool. You see the concern in the opposite corner. “Okay, I got their attention”. You look at your trainer and his eyes are lit up for the first time in years and he nods at you.

That this has become a test for the young contender becomes obvious. He comes out for the next round back in control of himself. He has recovered. He's quick, this kid, and he can bang but still you ain't going to quit on yourself!

Somewhere in the middle rounds a fight is taking place. For the first time in years you hear the crowd calling for you to win. You smile and remember how good it felt. For a brief moment you find yourself reaching back in time.

No one expected this fight, not the press, not the crowd, not even yourself. Then you remember your family. They know you, they believe in you, they dared to expect it, and you fight on.

It's the late rounds now. One eye is closed, blood is pouring from your nose but you are unbowed. “I will not quit!” you say to yourself, not quite sure if you are thinking it or speaking out loud.

You find yourself on the ropes, fatigue hurting you more than the punches. Your hands going down just for a second or two, and your young opponent takes full advantage, then you begin to punch.

You remember your old trainer telling you years ago “When you find yourself on the ropes or in the corner and you don't know what else to do, just punch, just punch your way out!” and so you punch.

It's the last round now. “Maybe I can knock him out” you think to yourself. You look him in the eye as the last round begins. This young, strong fighter shows something in his eyes that you didn't see earlier and you recognize it immediately. This young man has come to respect you!

Still his job is to fight and win. Several times in the round you find yourself against the ropes, punching, swinging at anything but never, ever lying down.

The bell signals the end of the final round. The crowd roars it's approval. You and your young opponent collapse onto each other, spent, tired and worn. You give each other a hug and you tell him “Great fight kid”, “Same to you old man” and you both walk back to your corners.

You didn't win this fight, you know that and you never fought again. You were never a champion. You were once a contender. It was enough. You found a job, you lived your life with your family and you were content.

Oh, to have been such a magnificent bum!

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Marco Rubio’s request for referee change denied by WBC

The World Boxing Council (WBC) has formally denied the request made by the number one contender for the World middleweight championship title, Marco Antonio Rubio regarding the change of Guadalupe Garcia, the referee appointed in his bout against Julio Cesar Chavez Junior.

Apparently, it seems like Rubio is feeling a bit uncomfortable in his upcoming iconic bout with Julio Cesar Chavez Junior, since sources have revealed that Osvaldo and Reginald Kuchle, Rubio’s representatives, lodged a formal request in WBC showing a bit of distrust over the designated bout referee, Guadalupe Garcia. The details of the letter or the application are not known to anyone.

In fact, the news made its place in media when Jose Sulaiman, President World Boxing Council revealed that he has received a letter, a request for the change of the match referee by Rubio’s camp. Jose commented that he and his colleagues pondered over the newly developed scenario and reached a decision that a referee of international level such as Garcia should not be relinquished from his responsibilities.

Jose added that the request has been formally denied since no substantial evidence or solid reasoning was present in the formal request. The Mexican hailing WBC president further said that he and the appointed decision making staff has full confidence in the Mexican Garcia since he has conducted several brawls of high profile nature in an authoritative way and has a very impressive record of refereeing bouts in accordance with the Council’s rules and regulations.

Sulaiman commented that, “The appointment of Lupe Garcia was in agreement with Dick Cole, head of the Commission of Texas. And it was a great achievement that referees from other countries are accepted to work in WBC title bouts in Texas. It’s a great opportunity we have awaited for years and it’s great news that we will not reject.”

While laying his utmost confidence in Garcia, Jose remarked that, “The WBC gives a vote of confidence to Lupe Garcia who will be our representative and we are confident that everything will be OK.”

Guadalupe Garcia is the official match referee for the bout between Marco Rubio and Julio Cesar Chavez. The bout will headline the event by the name Welcome to the Future and will be fought in the middleweight category.

Both men will strive to knock their opponent out in order to grasp the world middleweight championship title. The event is promoted by Top Rank and will be televised by HBO sports on Saturday, February 4, 2012 live from St. Antonio, Texas.

Angelo Dundee dies at 90; corner man for Ali, Leonard

Dundee was Muhammad Ali's trainer for the Fight of the Century, the Rumble in the Jungle and the Thrilla in Manila, and in Leonard's corner for his No Mas match against Roberto Duran.

By Steve Springer, Special to the Los Angeles Times

February 2, 2012

Angelo Dundee, who trained the two most celebrated fighters of his era, Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard, and 15 world champions in all in a Hall of Fame career that began in 1952, has died. He was 90.

Dundee died Wednesday at a Clearwater, Fla., rehabilitation center, said his son, James. He had a blood clot that developed during a flight back to his Florida home after visiting Ali in Louisville, Ky., for the boxer's 70th birthday last month.

Dundee was in Ali's corner for the Fight of the Century, the Rumble in the Jungle and the Thrilla in Manila, and in Leonard's corner for his No Mas match against Roberto Duran as well as his memorable fights against Thomas Hearns and Marvin Hagler.

Other boxers trained by Dundee included George Foreman, Carmen Basilio and Willie Pastrano.

In a sport of drama and explosiveness, dealing with fighters spouting hyperbole and filled with emotion, Dundee was the perfect complement, always calm, always analytical, ever able to maintain his cool, whether in the sweltering heat of Manila or the fury of Zaire.

In his 2007 autobiography, "My View From the Corner," Dundee said his job was "a mixed bag combining certain qualities belonging to a doctor, an engineer, a psychologist and, sometimes, even an actor....When the bell rings ending the round, that's when the trainer takes over."

If Dundee hadn't taken over on two occasions with Ali, one of the greatest careers in boxing history might have ended almost before it began.

At the end of the fourth round of a 1963 fight against Henry Cooper, Ali, then known as Cassius Clay, was surprised by a left-hand punch that floored him and left him dazed. Fortunately for Clay, it was the end of the round, allowing him to stagger back to his corner.

It was there that Dundee, trying to buy time until his fighter's head cleared, stuck his finger in a slight split in the seams of one of Clay's gloves, causing a slightly bigger split. That allowed Dundee to ask the referee for another pair of gloves. None were available, but the incident added valuable seconds to Clay's rest time, allowing him to recover and go on to win on a fifth-round technical knockout.

His next fight, against heavyweight champion Sonny Liston, might not have occurred if Clay had lost to Cooper.

In the fourth round of Clay's 1964 fight against Liston, another crisis occurred. A substance of undetermined origin got in Clay's eyes, temporarily blinding him. In the corner prior to the fifth round, Clay ordered Dundee to cut off his gloves, ending the fight.

The trainer would do no such thing. He wet Clay's eyes, alleviating some of the sting, and then literally shoved him back out into the ring when the bell rang. Clay, still unable to see, was told by Dundee to just run.

Run he did until, midway through the round, Clay's vision cleared. At the end of the sixth round, Liston, claiming a shoulder injury, quit in his corner.

Thanks to Dundee, Clay had his first title and a launching pad for the meteoric career that would follow.

Dundee was born Angelo Mirena on Aug. 30, 1921, in Philadelphia, the eighth of nine children. It was his brother Joe, 21 years his senior, who first took the name Dundee to hide the fact he was a fighter from his father. His brother Chris also took the name, as did Angelo eventually.

Dundee's introduction to boxing came during his time in the U.S. Army Air Forces during World War II. He worked the corner in service boxing tournaments.

Dundee's course in life was set. He would follow his brother Chris, a future Hall of Fame promoter, to New York where Dundee would hone his trade at Stillman's Gym, and then on to the Fifth Street Gym in Miami where his reputation was sealed.

He became Ali's trainer in 1960 for Ali's second pro fight and remained with him until the end, 21 years later. Even when Ali was surrounded by members of the Black Muslims and mired in racial controversy, Dundee, a white man, was able to remain under the radar and do his job.

Dundee added an Olympic gold medal winner to his stable of fighters when Leonard joined him after turning pro. Leonard won the medal in 1976.

Dundee's most memorable moment in Leonard's corner came in 1981, in Leonard's first fight against Hearns. Momentum had slipped away from Leonard by the end of the 12th round of the 15-round match.

"You're blowing it, son," Dundee told him in the corner.

Leonard responded by rallying for a 14th-round TKO victory.

As he had with Ali, Dundee had again possibly saved a Hall of Fame career, ensuring himself a spot among the pantheon of boxing trainers.

Besides his son, James, Dundee is survived by his daughter, Terri, six grandchildren and one great-grandchild. His wife, Helen, died in 2010.

Springer is a former Los Angeles Times staff writer.

Los Angeles Times staff writer Lance Pugmire contributed to this report.