By Geno McGahee
I have been a big fan of Antonio Margarito for quite some time. When he headlined the first ever ESPN Pay Per View, his grit and determination were impressive as he chopped down the then undefeated Kermit Cintron. The term “most avoided man in boxing” was often associated with him and rightfully so. He was relentless, aggressive, and large for the welterweight division. Considering his size and similarities in style to Jose Luis Castillo, it was no wonder that Floyd Mayweather, JR., opted to find other challengers rather than risking his place in boxing against Margarito.
Margarito represented the core of boxing, the fighter that would take two punches to deliver one, and came up the hard way. He fought untelevised for much of his career, slowly making his way up the ranks of marketable fighters, and getting knocked down a few times along the way, but never gave up and eventually found his big fight that would put him into the realm of pound for pound best in the game and made him a fighter that the casual boxing fans desperately wanted to see.
On July 26th, 2008, Miguel Angel Cotto would bring his WBA Welterweight Title to the ring, prepared to defend it against the man that most others had avoided. Prior to this bout, Margarito was on a mission of destruction, making short work of Golden Johnson and Kermit Cintron in a rematch. Cotto was a fighter known to break down his opposition, and Margarito had the reputation of a man that was immovable. The recipe was there for a good fight and it turned out to be a great bout, with both men having their moments and gave the crowd and the audience at home a lot of bang for their buck.
To the amazement of most, Margarito walked through Miguel Cotto’s punches, and he took some hellacious punches. As the rounds went on, the Margarito punches began to take their toll. Cotto just couldn’t take any more and crumbled in the corner in the eleventh round. He looked like he had been through a car accident without a seatbelt, completely broken and unable to go on. It was the first defeat on the record of Cotto and the biggest win to date for Margarito. After this fight, a PPV event, Margarito’s future was extremely bright. Most of boxing rejoiced that he had won. He was the common man that showed incredible spirit and resilience both in the ring and outside of it, coping with the promotional problems and lack of exposure to the public. He was now on top of the world and there were even rumors that he was set to face Oscar De La Hoya.
That fight never materialized, but another superstar agreed to step up to the challenge. Sugar Shane Mosley, a man going through a divorce as well as steroids accusations, seemed to bring more name value rather than a true challenge for Margarito. Mosley is a great fighter but his recent outings, he looked stale and lost to the same Miguel Cotto that Margarito had stopped. Also, the very limited Ricardo Mayorga fought evenly over 11 ½ rounds with Mosley before running into a left hook and losing via last second TKO. Margarito was a 4-1 favorite and rightfully so.
The Mosley fight was seen by most as a set up fight for something bigger and better. How Margarito performed would dictate exactly what direction Top Rank went with him. If he stopped Mosley, they would pursue the big fights and he would headline a PPV again. If he struggled and eked by, then maybe another course of action against a fighter less durable than Mosley would be in order. Margarito was a monster and Mosley wouldn’t stop him or so the majority of the “experts” believed…but there was more going on here…
Prior to the fight, Margarito’s trainer, Javier Capetillo, was observed doing something unusual with his fighter’s hand wraps. As a result, the wraps he was using were confiscated and he was forced to rewrap the hands while under close observation. Many thought of this as a ploy by team Mosley, as many times you will see management or promotional teams object to the wrappings of a fighter’s hands or the taping of the gloves. It is merely done to try to get the fighter’s focus to shift and perhaps give their man a slight mental edge going into the ring. Butch Lewis attempted this tactic when Mike Tyson fought his man, Michael Spinks, claiming that a lump underneath the wrist of Tyson could cause his man injury and therefore, they had to be redone. It was a bogus claim but he still had his gloves rewrapped and taped…it didn’t help Spinks though. Bernard Hopkins team also used this tactic with Felix Trinidad, which seemed to really jar him and gave “the Executioner” the edge he wanted. It got Tito’s head out of the fight. Unfortunately this situation wasn’t just a ploy. There was something very real and very sinister going on here.
The fight went on after the hands were wrapped to the satisfaction of all involved. Amazingly, this fight was a mismatch from the opening bell, with Mosley beating the living hell out of Margarito. He kept shoving the right hand down the pike and followed up with some tremendous bodywork. The Margarito that we were used to seeing wasn’t there. His punches didn’t have the effect that they have had on other opponents in the past and even when he landed full force on Mosley’s chin, he didn’t flinch.
After nine rounds, Margarito was in a heap, TKO’d and beaten soundly by a rejuvenated Mosley. Was Mosley back? Was Margarito overrated? What did we just see?
The decision by the California State Athletic Commission was swift. Both Margarito and Capetillo were suspended for one year, as the investigation went forth. Capetillo, under pressure from Arum, I’m sure, took all the blame, stating that he put illegal pads into the hand wraps, but it was an “accident.” Arum said some of the most disgusting things after the suspension, screaming that Margarito was being singled out because he was Mexican. It’s amazing how many people question the business practices of Don King, but fails to mention how Bob Arum does the same exact things.
Last week the announcement was made that the hand wraps were tainted, containing sulfur and calcium, two elements when mixed with oxygen creates Plaster of Paris. Had he went into the ring like that, the wraps would have hardened and he would have been throwing bricks at Mosley for twelve rounds. It’s no wonder that Cintron folded, Golden Johnson crumbled, and Cotto sustained that much damage. Boxing is a dangerous sport as it is, but when you add this element into it, it brings it to another level. It is reminiscent of the Luis Resto – Billy Collins, JR., bout from 1983.
Luis Resto battled Billy Collins, JR., on ABC. It was a bout where Collins, JR., sustained horrible injuries and looked not so different from Miguel Cotto after his loss to Margarito. Collins, JR., had permanently blurred vision and it ended his boxing career and this was due to tampering with the gloves. Resto and his trainer, Panama Lewis, had removed padding from the gloves, basically beating Collins, JR., with taped fists over ten rounds. Thankfully, they were caught and punished, Lewis getting six years, and Resto getting three, but they probably should have gotten a whole lot more. Collins, JR., killed himself shortly after this bout, many contending that his inability to fight anymore had ruined his life and pushed him to suicide.
I have heard that Margarito might be allowed to fight in Mexico, but after these findings, I am hoping that they concur with the ban and keep him away from boxing. I’m sure that I’m not in the minority when I say that Antonio Margarito was somebody that represented what was right with the sport, the spirit of the game, and showed that hard work paid off…and I was a very big fan of his. After this incident, all of that has dissolved. Although Capetillo claims to be 100% responsible, I can’t see how Margarito would not know that this was happening to his hand wraps. Much like the steroid abusers in boxing, Margarito has joined the list of people that will do anything for money and could care less that you are potentially going to kill somebody in the ring. Boxing is a dirty sport and has been for years, but the boxing world has to take a stand and ban both Capetillo and Margarito permanently from the game, regardless of commercial appeal. As it has held its ground with fighters like Tommy Morrison and Joe Mesi, the boxing commissions MUST do the same here and remove this potential hazard from the sport.
The “Most Avoided Man in Boxing” is a title that should probably be attached to Margarito right now but it now has an entire different meaning. Boxing should avoid doing any business whatsoever with him or Capetillo. They are both menaces to the game and I eagerly await the “lifetime ban” that they are sure to place upon them both. I wonder how Bob Arum will defend Margarito this time.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Carlos Came to Fight
By Ted Sares -
Carlos Vinan was called an “opponent” by ESPN commentator Teddy Atlas as he prepared to do battle with home town hero and Teamster Union favorite John Molina (15-0) on the undercard of the Peter-Chambers match at the Nokia Center on March 28.
Maybe he was an opponent, but if so, this kid from New Jersey by way of Ecuador was a tough one who was not about to be Molina’s walk over.. Heck, a review of his record, which Teddy may not have done, revealed that he was a tough kid having been stopped only once in 18 outings with a record of 8-6-3. But curiously, 3 of his defeat came by MD or SD and his first win came against “Irish” Mickey Ward’s nephew, Sean Eklund.
Atlas mentioned that Vinan had not done well in his last 7. That was misleading. Three of those “losses” were draws against stiff competition including Eloy “The Prince” Perez who is now 13-0-2. His last eleven opponents had winning records and eight of them came in undefeated. Moreover, the kid has fought in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Connecticut (both the Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods), New York, Maryland, Florida, California (three times), Illinois, and Nevada. There is something very “old school” about that, something I like.
The Fight
When the first bell rang, Vinan immediately launched an all out inside attack and did not stop punching until the second bell rang again. In between, he threw an amazing 137 punches. Molina, for his part, also threw 106 punches. It was an all out war reminiscent of those fought by Sucre Ray Oliviera, though Molina‘s punches were a bit sharper. The second round started out the same way, but Molina got enough separation to land the harder and more punishing shots until referee David Mendoza had seen enough and rightly called a halt to the all out action at the 2.40 mark.
Even then, the bloodied but unbowed Vinan wanted to continue because he had a fighter’s heart, and most of all, because he came to fight.
Carlos Vinan was called an “opponent” by ESPN commentator Teddy Atlas as he prepared to do battle with home town hero and Teamster Union favorite John Molina (15-0) on the undercard of the Peter-Chambers match at the Nokia Center on March 28.
Maybe he was an opponent, but if so, this kid from New Jersey by way of Ecuador was a tough one who was not about to be Molina’s walk over.. Heck, a review of his record, which Teddy may not have done, revealed that he was a tough kid having been stopped only once in 18 outings with a record of 8-6-3. But curiously, 3 of his defeat came by MD or SD and his first win came against “Irish” Mickey Ward’s nephew, Sean Eklund.
Atlas mentioned that Vinan had not done well in his last 7. That was misleading. Three of those “losses” were draws against stiff competition including Eloy “The Prince” Perez who is now 13-0-2. His last eleven opponents had winning records and eight of them came in undefeated. Moreover, the kid has fought in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Connecticut (both the Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods), New York, Maryland, Florida, California (three times), Illinois, and Nevada. There is something very “old school” about that, something I like.
The Fight
When the first bell rang, Vinan immediately launched an all out inside attack and did not stop punching until the second bell rang again. In between, he threw an amazing 137 punches. Molina, for his part, also threw 106 punches. It was an all out war reminiscent of those fought by Sucre Ray Oliviera, though Molina‘s punches were a bit sharper. The second round started out the same way, but Molina got enough separation to land the harder and more punishing shots until referee David Mendoza had seen enough and rightly called a halt to the all out action at the 2.40 mark.
Even then, the bloodied but unbowed Vinan wanted to continue because he had a fighter’s heart, and most of all, because he came to fight.
My 20 Greatest • • *
By Hype Igoe
International N«wi Scrvkt Sporti Writer
NEW YORK, Mar. 23—Running through an old and recently
discovered scrap book of ring classics which, in my time I have
"covered," I came across my own printed history of a ring epic
which never will die within my memory.
The story is clipped from the old New York American of September
10, 1907, just seven months after I had rolled Into Grand Central,
barbed beneath, In bright red flannels, tied at the wrists
and the ankles.
Strangely enough, too, this story is by-lined "By IGOE." That was
many years before my journalistic god-father, Herbert Bayard
Swope, prevailed upon me to In-fuse ,a little more legibility and
body into my moniker by adding "Hype" to that tremendous sweep
of printed matter!
"It Is, devilishly enphonious , that by Hype Igoe, banner," said
Swope and, being a grateful and ever a doubtful fourth-estate son,
I have so branded ench and every ditty I've tried to write ever since.
It was father Swope who came up with the name for my New
York World column "Pardon My Glove."
"It is not my thought," said my father. "We were all chopping at
a name for the column at Ralph Pulitzer's home and Bill Beazoll
almost had his way with "Leather Socking Tales," when meek little
Irving Berlin chirped: 'Herbert, I do believe that- would be something
In a column by Hype, under the title "Pardon My Glove."
So it was born, to be "borrowed" by United States Senators,
Congressmen, script writers, vaudevillains and paid wise crackers
back In 1907 I wrote of Young Otto's dazzling knockout of Joe Bedell, .a develish thumper on his , own hook and one so sneaky in a fight as fox stalking a pullet cove .
They fought In the old Roman A. C. down on the East Side, In
which on its cleanest night, smelled like an attic carpet . You traded
perspiration beads with your neighbor , so tightly you were pressed against him . Fat men enterd the emporium of glory so round as a rum barrel and left looking like a bed slat .
I wrote of the start of this fight upon which hinges the kick in this story I almost forgot;
Otto walked out of his corner with a broad smile spred across his face. Here was a fighter how believed in his punch and well he might because in his career of 220 fights he knocked out 86 victims . 45 of them in the first round. He ran-up a record of 16 straight knock-outs in the last minute of the first round . Here is a record which this world never again will see . "
I went on in my printed yarn: "Otto had his good right hand
extended In sportsman like greeting, Bedell, the fox, let his left
glide forward like a snake in the grass until It tipped the end of
Otto's friendly right glove. No sooner had the gloves touched, and
before Otto was conscious of treachery, the oldest of shopworn,
dirty tricks. Bedell whipped up his Innocent left and hooked Otto
plump on the snout. It was a sneaking, distressing blow, and
almost ended the fight then and there."
There ured to be unfair chatter about Otto being a "quitter"
when he saw blood. He saw it that night. I remember that he
put the palm of his glove to his nose and when he saw his own
gore in the palm of his glove, spilled through a dastardly sneak
punch, Otto went roaring down my hall of fame.
I felt sorry for Bedel before the round was over. Otto seemed
bent on driving Bedell's beezer right through his skull and out
the back of his head. Seldom ever, have men been banged so
savagely. Though Bedell, game otherwise, fought back with
glorious pluck, Otto was relentlessly cruel, Otto didn't catch
him in that first. I thought he'd break out in tears about it.
There was a second round, however. Fistic Funeral Day for
the unfair one. When Otto's right fist landed on Bedell's, chin
I could have sworn that I saw sparks fly. Bedell went down,
his head, twisted In fantastic fashion over the lower rope.
He seamed to be looking into the fence of human faces, seek-
Ing someone who might spare a little pity. He needed it. Game
enough, he got up like a torn bulldog, he tried to smile and a
great flood of black blood over-rode the dykes, the swollen lips
which had kept this crimson flood within bounds.
Otto had his elephant gun with him. The punch roared just as
such , a powerful gun would have reverberated through the elephant
Jungle. Bedell floated through the air as though riding a magic
thud of an anvil, Bedell never had been knocked out before,
Bless the hitters!
Young Otto taught four Golden Glove champions—Inter world crown bearers.
Lou Saalico, Pete Sealza, Melio Bettina and Gus Lesnevich
International N«wi Scrvkt Sporti Writer
NEW YORK, Mar. 23—Running through an old and recently
discovered scrap book of ring classics which, in my time I have
"covered," I came across my own printed history of a ring epic
which never will die within my memory.
The story is clipped from the old New York American of September
10, 1907, just seven months after I had rolled Into Grand Central,
barbed beneath, In bright red flannels, tied at the wrists
and the ankles.
Strangely enough, too, this story is by-lined "By IGOE." That was
many years before my journalistic god-father, Herbert Bayard
Swope, prevailed upon me to In-fuse ,a little more legibility and
body into my moniker by adding "Hype" to that tremendous sweep
of printed matter!
"It Is, devilishly enphonious , that by Hype Igoe, banner," said
Swope and, being a grateful and ever a doubtful fourth-estate son,
I have so branded ench and every ditty I've tried to write ever since.
It was father Swope who came up with the name for my New
York World column "Pardon My Glove."
"It is not my thought," said my father. "We were all chopping at
a name for the column at Ralph Pulitzer's home and Bill Beazoll
almost had his way with "Leather Socking Tales," when meek little
Irving Berlin chirped: 'Herbert, I do believe that- would be something
In a column by Hype, under the title "Pardon My Glove."
So it was born, to be "borrowed" by United States Senators,
Congressmen, script writers, vaudevillains and paid wise crackers
back In 1907 I wrote of Young Otto's dazzling knockout of Joe Bedell, .a develish thumper on his , own hook and one so sneaky in a fight as fox stalking a pullet cove .
They fought In the old Roman A. C. down on the East Side, In
which on its cleanest night, smelled like an attic carpet . You traded
perspiration beads with your neighbor , so tightly you were pressed against him . Fat men enterd the emporium of glory so round as a rum barrel and left looking like a bed slat .
I wrote of the start of this fight upon which hinges the kick in this story I almost forgot;
Otto walked out of his corner with a broad smile spred across his face. Here was a fighter how believed in his punch and well he might because in his career of 220 fights he knocked out 86 victims . 45 of them in the first round. He ran-up a record of 16 straight knock-outs in the last minute of the first round . Here is a record which this world never again will see . "
I went on in my printed yarn: "Otto had his good right hand
extended In sportsman like greeting, Bedell, the fox, let his left
glide forward like a snake in the grass until It tipped the end of
Otto's friendly right glove. No sooner had the gloves touched, and
before Otto was conscious of treachery, the oldest of shopworn,
dirty tricks. Bedell whipped up his Innocent left and hooked Otto
plump on the snout. It was a sneaking, distressing blow, and
almost ended the fight then and there."
There ured to be unfair chatter about Otto being a "quitter"
when he saw blood. He saw it that night. I remember that he
put the palm of his glove to his nose and when he saw his own
gore in the palm of his glove, spilled through a dastardly sneak
punch, Otto went roaring down my hall of fame.
I felt sorry for Bedel before the round was over. Otto seemed
bent on driving Bedell's beezer right through his skull and out
the back of his head. Seldom ever, have men been banged so
savagely. Though Bedell, game otherwise, fought back with
glorious pluck, Otto was relentlessly cruel, Otto didn't catch
him in that first. I thought he'd break out in tears about it.
There was a second round, however. Fistic Funeral Day for
the unfair one. When Otto's right fist landed on Bedell's, chin
I could have sworn that I saw sparks fly. Bedell went down,
his head, twisted In fantastic fashion over the lower rope.
He seamed to be looking into the fence of human faces, seek-
Ing someone who might spare a little pity. He needed it. Game
enough, he got up like a torn bulldog, he tried to smile and a
great flood of black blood over-rode the dykes, the swollen lips
which had kept this crimson flood within bounds.
Otto had his elephant gun with him. The punch roared just as
such , a powerful gun would have reverberated through the elephant
Jungle. Bedell floated through the air as though riding a magic
thud of an anvil, Bedell never had been knocked out before,
Bless the hitters!
Young Otto taught four Golden Glove champions—Inter world crown bearers.
Lou Saalico, Pete Sealza, Melio Bettina and Gus Lesnevich
Lawmakers fight to get first black heavyweight champ off ropes with pardon for false conviction
By GROMER JEFFERS Jr. / The Dallas Morning News
gjeffers@dallasnews.com
Jack Johnson, the first African-American to become world heavyweight boxing champion, overcame racism and poverty to slug his way to the top.
Efforts to clear his name of a bogus conviction for transporting a white woman across state lines for immoral purposes, however, have not been as successful.
Boxer Jack Johnson was falsely convicted of transporting a white woman across state lines for immoral purposes. Today is the 131st anniversary of Johnson's birth in Galveston, and it comes as renewed efforts are under way in Congress to get a presidential pardon for the boxer who died 68 years ago.
Rep. Peter King, R-N.Y., and Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., plan to introduce resolutions before Congress on Wednesday calling on President Barack Obama to pardon Johnson.
A pardon, supporters say, would right a wrong from America's racist past. But for many others, particularly in Galveston, vindication for Johnson means much more.
They hope to reintroduce the man nicknamed the Galveston Giant to a hometown that shunned him in his finest hour and never regarded the boxer as its favorite son.
"I don't think the city has embraced him or celebrated his success," said Samuel L. Collins, one of two Texas advisers for the National Trust for Historic Preservation. "Over time, he's been forgotten."
Alice Gatson, a retiree from Galveston, agreed.
"His history has been thrown at Galveston, but they don't really know him, his story or what he was all about," Gatson said.
Members of Johnson's family, who live in Chicago, will join McCain and King on Wednesday at a Washington news conference.
Ennis Williams Jr., a retired educator and president of the Old Central Cultural Center in Galveston, said he'll be there in spirit.
"This would be a tribute to all of the citizens of Galveston," Mr. Williams said of a presidential pardon. "By overcoming the odds and winning the heavyweight title, Jack Johnson left a legacy for all of our young residents to follow."
Arthur John Johnson was born March 31, 1878, in Galveston to former slaves Henry and Tina Johnson.
With only a fifth-grade education, Johnson took up boxing, using the sport to earn a living after his family home was destroyed in the hurricane of 1900.
Boxing was illegal in Texas. And when veteran fighter Joe Choynski came to Galveston to fight Johnson and give a boxing exhibition at the city's athletic club, both men ended up in the Galveston Jail, where the elder fighter gave Johnson lessons in the sweet science.
Waiting to face white champ
Johnson would become a formidable and flamboyant fighter, using his quickness and superb defensive skills to overcome opponents.
Because white heavyweight champions would not fight black challengers, Johnson was forced to wait until 1908 to become world champion. He knocked out Tommy Burns on Dec. 26, 1908, in Sydney, Australia, to win the title at age 30. As a reflection of the racism at the time, motion picture cameras were ordered turned off just before Johnson knocked out Burns, to shield viewers from the sight of a black man defeating a white man.
Two years later, an undefeated James J. Jeffries came out of retirement to challenge Johnson for the title Jeffries once held.
With the likes of famed novelist Jack London proclaiming, "Jeff, it's up to you," Jeffries became the greatest of the Great White Hopes.
Johnson knocked out Jeffries in Reno, Nev., on Independence Day in front of 22,000 people in a spectacle tinged with racial tension. The outcome triggered race riots across the country.
From the power of his fists, Johnson became the most popular black man in the world, and he reveled in his success.
In an era when it was common for black men to be lynched for even looking at a white woman, Johnson openly cavorted with, and even married them. He spent money as fast as he could make it.
His refusal to play to racial stereotypes irked the establishment and made him many enemies.
Like other states, the Texas Legislature banned films of his victories over white fighters.
And when Johnson first won the heavyweight title, Galveston officials planned to throw a parade for Johnson but canceled it when it was learned he was traveling with a white woman.
More than 100 years later, Galveston still hasn't had a major celebration, let alone a parade for Johnson.
Last year, to mark the centennial of Johnson's historic victory, fans and historians prepared a jazz festival and celebration to pay tribute.
"It just didn't come together," Collins said. "Then the storm [Hurricane Ike] wiped everything out."
Johnson's career began to spiral downward in 1915 when he lost his title to Jess Willard before 25,000 people in Havana, Cuba.
But that was the least of his problems.
Two years earlier, he had been forced to flee the country after being falsely convicted of violating the federal Mann Act, an effort to curb the transporting of white women across state lines for prostitution.
A year in federal prison
He returned in 1920 and spent about a year in Leavenworth federal prison in Kansas, where he invented a type of wrench for which he held a patent.
Later, he owned a nightclub in Harlem that, after being sold to gangster Owney Madden, would become the world-famous Cotton Club.
Johnson died in 1946 after a car crash in North Carolina, where he had retired.
Years after his death, Johnson was immortalized in the stage play and movie The Great White Hope, starring James Earl Jones.
Over the years, there have been a number of attempts to get federal authorities to give Johnson a posthumous pardon. They began again in earnest in 2005 when a critically acclaimed documentary by Ken Burns aired on PBS.
Many Galveston residents say the pardon is long overdue.
"It's about time," said Tommie Boudreaux, a retired school principal who lives in Galveston. "In the African-American community, we're proud of his accomplishments."
In his hometown, a Jack Johnson Foundation seeks to preserve the boxer's place in history. A street is named for him and a mural featuring him adorns a wall at the city's African-American Museum.
Collins, the adviser for the National Trust for Historic Preservation, said Johnson deserves not only a pardon, but also that long-canceled parade.
Freddie Roach, Floyd Mayweather Sr. star in war of the words
In town to promote the upcoming Hatton-Pacquiao fight, it becomes clear the two trainers aren't fond of each other.
Bill Dwyre
March 31, 2009
It was just your normal Monday luncheon at The Times. Lots of coats and ties. People who make the news, invited to break bread with people who report the news.
Then Floyd Mayweather Sr. said something about being the smartest boxing trainer and Freddie Roach reminded him that he was in the Hall of Fame, not Floyd Sr.
From calm came chaos.
Ah, boxing. The sweet science of the unrehearsed, the lovely art of the antisocial.
This was to be an informational get-together about the May 2 boxing match between stars Ricky Hatton of Britain and Manny Pacquiao of the Philippines. They will trade blows at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, and each has been guaranteed $12 million of the estimated $60-million gross take.
Mayweather trains Hatton, Roach trains Pacquiao. The fighters are fine. The trainers can't stand each other.
And so, in a room called a pavilion and named for a former publisher, a room blessed over the years with the presence of presidents and kings, where news decisions and editorial policy affecting millions were formulated, Mayweather and Roach did some verbal street fighting. The tablecloth needed graffiti.
It was delightful. It is boxing. Nothing is real and everything is fun; or, depending on your sense of humor, at least bizarre. Although probably not intentional, the months of buildup for a fight serve to deflect attention from the moment of reality, when two men climb into a ring and try to punch each other to death. And sometimes do.
Amid the flying verbal jabs from Mayweather and Roach, we learned much.
Pacquiao says he expects "more action" than there was during his recent mugging of an aging Oscar De La Hoya. Hatton says he expects a "very tough fight," and added "I don't see any reason why I should back away."
Expect a war. Both will come forward. Both will take two punches for the chance to throw three. Neither will be satisfied with a stick-and-jab fight, where the decision is left in the hands of three people sitting ringside, calculating whose defense was best.
Pacquiao, currently labeled as the sport's best "pound-for-pound boxer," will go in as the favorite, probably around 2-1. Roach said Hatton would last three rounds. That, of course, infuriated Mayweather, who went on a tirade about blindfolding himself, tying one hand behind his back and taking out Roach.
We learned that the fighters' split is 50-50 from the night's proceeds, but that Pacquiao will get slightly more as part of a deal between his promoter, Bob Arum of Top Rank, and Hatton's, Richard Schaefer of Golden Boy. They will take less to give Pacquiao, the star attraction, a bit more.
We learned that when Hatton fights in Las Vegas, records are established for beer consumption. Paul Revere was right. The British are coming! The British are coming! Also, Hatton brings an additional pay-per-view market that gobbles up the telecast for European viewing in the middle of the night.
We learned that this fight does not tout any title, that the wave of the future is to avoid the alphabet-soup sanctioning deals. You're out of luck WBC, WBA, WBO, IBF. You, too, NBA, NFL, HBO, MSNBC, PBA. Whatever.
"We could pay a sanctioning fee for this one of about $1 million," Arum said, as Schaefer nodded agreement, "and then we could pay for hotel suites and limos for all the people they bring to the fight."
Or not.
Ultimately, the luncheon was a river, flowing in several directions. Among the barbs from Mayweather and Roach, sports journalism's answer to Woodward and Bernstein grilled the fighters.
"Wanna see what they're made of," said T.J. Simers, who asked Pacquiao when he was going to quit and Hatton if he was smarter than Pacquiao.
In anticipation of the British fan invasion of Vegas for the fight, somebody asked one of Hatton's people the difference between British boxing fans and British soccer hooligans.
"Not much," he said.
Mayweather kept comparing Roach to bugs of the same name and Roach asked him to get new material. Arum tried to discuss the essence of the upcoming fight by quoting from a Rudyard Kipling poem. Simers rolled his eyes.
Eventually, Mayweather and Roach departed on different elevators.
Each said he would get off if Simers got on.
bill.dwyre@latimes.com.
Bill Dwyre
March 31, 2009
It was just your normal Monday luncheon at The Times. Lots of coats and ties. People who make the news, invited to break bread with people who report the news.
Then Floyd Mayweather Sr. said something about being the smartest boxing trainer and Freddie Roach reminded him that he was in the Hall of Fame, not Floyd Sr.
From calm came chaos.
Ah, boxing. The sweet science of the unrehearsed, the lovely art of the antisocial.
This was to be an informational get-together about the May 2 boxing match between stars Ricky Hatton of Britain and Manny Pacquiao of the Philippines. They will trade blows at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, and each has been guaranteed $12 million of the estimated $60-million gross take.
Mayweather trains Hatton, Roach trains Pacquiao. The fighters are fine. The trainers can't stand each other.
And so, in a room called a pavilion and named for a former publisher, a room blessed over the years with the presence of presidents and kings, where news decisions and editorial policy affecting millions were formulated, Mayweather and Roach did some verbal street fighting. The tablecloth needed graffiti.
It was delightful. It is boxing. Nothing is real and everything is fun; or, depending on your sense of humor, at least bizarre. Although probably not intentional, the months of buildup for a fight serve to deflect attention from the moment of reality, when two men climb into a ring and try to punch each other to death. And sometimes do.
Amid the flying verbal jabs from Mayweather and Roach, we learned much.
Pacquiao says he expects "more action" than there was during his recent mugging of an aging Oscar De La Hoya. Hatton says he expects a "very tough fight," and added "I don't see any reason why I should back away."
Expect a war. Both will come forward. Both will take two punches for the chance to throw three. Neither will be satisfied with a stick-and-jab fight, where the decision is left in the hands of three people sitting ringside, calculating whose defense was best.
Pacquiao, currently labeled as the sport's best "pound-for-pound boxer," will go in as the favorite, probably around 2-1. Roach said Hatton would last three rounds. That, of course, infuriated Mayweather, who went on a tirade about blindfolding himself, tying one hand behind his back and taking out Roach.
We learned that the fighters' split is 50-50 from the night's proceeds, but that Pacquiao will get slightly more as part of a deal between his promoter, Bob Arum of Top Rank, and Hatton's, Richard Schaefer of Golden Boy. They will take less to give Pacquiao, the star attraction, a bit more.
We learned that when Hatton fights in Las Vegas, records are established for beer consumption. Paul Revere was right. The British are coming! The British are coming! Also, Hatton brings an additional pay-per-view market that gobbles up the telecast for European viewing in the middle of the night.
We learned that this fight does not tout any title, that the wave of the future is to avoid the alphabet-soup sanctioning deals. You're out of luck WBC, WBA, WBO, IBF. You, too, NBA, NFL, HBO, MSNBC, PBA. Whatever.
"We could pay a sanctioning fee for this one of about $1 million," Arum said, as Schaefer nodded agreement, "and then we could pay for hotel suites and limos for all the people they bring to the fight."
Or not.
Ultimately, the luncheon was a river, flowing in several directions. Among the barbs from Mayweather and Roach, sports journalism's answer to Woodward and Bernstein grilled the fighters.
"Wanna see what they're made of," said T.J. Simers, who asked Pacquiao when he was going to quit and Hatton if he was smarter than Pacquiao.
In anticipation of the British fan invasion of Vegas for the fight, somebody asked one of Hatton's people the difference between British boxing fans and British soccer hooligans.
"Not much," he said.
Mayweather kept comparing Roach to bugs of the same name and Roach asked him to get new material. Arum tried to discuss the essence of the upcoming fight by quoting from a Rudyard Kipling poem. Simers rolled his eyes.
Eventually, Mayweather and Roach departed on different elevators.
Each said he would get off if Simers got on.
bill.dwyre@latimes.com.
Freddie Roach to Train Antonio Margarito!
By Edgar Gonzalez
Freddie Roach confirms reports that former three time welterweight champion Antonio Margarito of Tijuana, MX, has asked the vastly experienced trainer to be the man in charge of his corner.
Margarito, who is seeking legitimacy after being suspended for one year for illegal hand wraps, has stated that he is seeking a bout this summer, possibly in Tijuana.
Freddie Roach confirms reports that former three time welterweight champion Antonio Margarito of Tijuana, MX, has asked the vastly experienced trainer to be the man in charge of his corner.
Margarito, who is seeking legitimacy after being suspended for one year for illegal hand wraps, has stated that he is seeking a bout this summer, possibly in Tijuana.
Oscar De La Hoya to make big announcement
By Lance Pugmire
LATimes
Oscar De La Hoya has scheduled an April 14 news conference at the Star Plaza downtown, where he will make an announcement about his future in boxing, his business partner Richard Schaefer told The Times on Monday night.
Schaefer declined to reveal what De La Hoya has decided, although the boxer was soundly beaten by Manny Pacquiao in a Dec. 6 fight and confided to former trainer Freddie Roach that his best days were over.
A source, who sought anonymity because the decision has not been made public, said the scheduled announcement would not include an opponent or date for an upcoming De La Hoya bout. And the site of his announcement, the Star Plaza, is not far from his statue at Staples Center.
When The Times last spoke with De La Hoya in February, he was 60-40 on retiring.
"I'm torn between saying, 'It's over. 'Bye. I don't have it anymore,' and knowing if I'll be able to live with that," Oscar said then. "It's a tough decision, not easy at all."
De La Hoya (38-6, 30 knockouts) has increasingly worked to build his Golden Boy Promotions empire, which includes Shane Mosley, Juan Manuel Marquez and rising star Victor Ortiz in its stable.
LATimes
Oscar De La Hoya has scheduled an April 14 news conference at the Star Plaza downtown, where he will make an announcement about his future in boxing, his business partner Richard Schaefer told The Times on Monday night.
Schaefer declined to reveal what De La Hoya has decided, although the boxer was soundly beaten by Manny Pacquiao in a Dec. 6 fight and confided to former trainer Freddie Roach that his best days were over.
A source, who sought anonymity because the decision has not been made public, said the scheduled announcement would not include an opponent or date for an upcoming De La Hoya bout. And the site of his announcement, the Star Plaza, is not far from his statue at Staples Center.
When The Times last spoke with De La Hoya in February, he was 60-40 on retiring.
"I'm torn between saying, 'It's over. 'Bye. I don't have it anymore,' and knowing if I'll be able to live with that," Oscar said then. "It's a tough decision, not easy at all."
De La Hoya (38-6, 30 knockouts) has increasingly worked to build his Golden Boy Promotions empire, which includes Shane Mosley, Juan Manuel Marquez and rising star Victor Ortiz in its stable.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Monte Hale dies at 89; cowboy actor helped found Autry museum in L.A.
Hale was a top B-western box office draw in the 1940s. He had his own series of action- and song-packed films, and later had a memorable role as Rock Hudson's lawyer in 'Giant.'
By Myrna Oliver
March 31, 2009
Monte Hale, one of the last of Hollywood's celluloid "singing cowboys" and a founder of what is now the Autry National Center of the American West, has died. He was 89.
Hale had been in failing health and died Sunday of age-related causes at his home in Studio City, according to a statement from the Autry National Center.
In the 1940s, Hale was a top B-western box office draw, right along with Roy Rogers, Eddie Dean and Hale's friend Gene Autry. Hale made nearly three dozen films for Republic Pictures, including 19 action- and song-packed films as the hero Monte Hale. Later, he had a small but memorable role as Rock Hudson's lawyer Bale Clinch in the 1956 epic "Giant."
Hale made his debut in the small role of a singer in 1944's "The Big Bonanza." He had similar bit parts as a cowboy or a ranch foreman in several more westerns before he was given his own series for Republic in 1946.
First came "Home on the Range," followed rapidly by "Sun Valley Cyclone," "Out California Way," "The Man From Rainbow Valley," "California Gold Rush" and more.
Hale's westerns featured more action scenes and fewer musical production numbers than those of Autry or Rogers, meaning he usually sang fewer songs per film. Because he was also less aggressive in pursuing recording contracts, Hale's singing is less known today than that of Autry, Rogers, Dean, Rex Allen or Tex Ritter.
But that's no reflection on Hale's talent.
According to "The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Country Music and Its Performers," while he "sang somewhat less than the others, he did sing as well and in a natural, appealing, down-home style."
Among Hale's better-known songs are "In My Stable There's an Empty Stall" and "Statue in the Bay."
Hale made a significant splash too in the lucrative international comic book market of the era. Six Monte Hale series of the dime picture books were published in 27 languages.
Off the screen, his most lasting contribution was helping to establish the Autry museum.
Over the years, Autry -- an astute businessman who had become a wealthy media entrepreneur as well as the original owner of the Los Angeles Angels baseball team -- had expressed an interest in starting a museum dedicated to the American West.
Dining one night in the early 1980s with their wives at the Gene Autry Hotel in Palm Springs, Hale asked Autry: "When are you going to build the museum you wanted to start?"
Jackie Autry and Joanne Hale, both successful businesswomen, were the driving forces. Joanne Hale held the post of executive director from the initial planning stages until her retirement in 1999. Monte Hale served on the board from the outset and remained active until his death.
Hale made other contributions to the museum after its 1988 opening by greeting guests and enabling them to chat with a real, live singing cowboy.
He also started cajoling fellow cowboy stars to contribute their signature memorabilia for permanent display in the museum's movie gallery.
He donated his own white hat, guns, gun belt and other prized treasures -- then rounded up more contributions, including Chuck Connors' shirt from "The Rifleman" TV series, Buffalo Bill's saddle and a Lone Ranger outfit.
In Griffith Park, the museum took its current name -- the Autry National Center of the American West -- in 2003 after the merger of the Southwest Museum of the American Indian, the Women of the West Museum and the original components of the Gene Autry Museum.
Born Samuel Buren Ely in San Angelo, Texas, June 8, 1919, Hale grew up loving music and trying to emulate his screen hero, Ken Maynard. With money he saved from a childhood job picking cotton and pecans, he paid $8.50 for his first guitar. By age 13 he was singing in local clubs.
He worked county fairs and radio stations until World War II, when he joined the Stars Over Texas Bond Drive as a singer. Its chairman, theater owner Phil Isley, the father of actress Jennifer Jones, later recommended Hale to Herb Yates, the head of Republic Pictures. He got a seven-year contract.
By 1950, Monte Hale had gone back to singing in clubs around the country, often with Ray Whitley, and appearing occasionally in guest roles on television westerns.
There were also spots in the films "Yukon Vengeance" in 1954 and "The Chase" in 1966 with Robert Redford as a Texas prison escapee and Marlon Brando as the sheriff. Hale's final film was "Guns of a Stranger" in 1973, with Marty Robbins as a singing cowboy.
In 2004, Hale was honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
In addition to his wife of 31 years, he is survived by a brother, Dick Hale.
Services will be private.
Instead of flowers, his widow suggests that donations be made to the Autry National Center of the American West.
news.obits@latimes.com
Oliver is a former Times staff writer. Staff writer Jon Thurber contributed to this report.
Antonio Margarito And His Loaded Wraps Give Boxing One Of Its Worst-Ever Scandals
By Tim Starks
It has been three days since news broke that the California Department of Justice determined Antonio Margarito had ingredients of plaster of Paris in his hand wraps before he went out to fight Shane Mosley Jan. 24. I'd withheld final judgment, since only one news outlet reported it; since the report mentions the presence of two ingredients, sulfur and calcium, but not the third, oxygen -- and readily available as that element might be, it's unclear why the DOJ wouldn't just call the substance plaster of Paris if it were plaster of Paris; and since the California State Athletic Commission has yet to remark publicly about the lab results.
For three days there has been only silence from the involved parties. But there is one regard in which that silence is most damning. Margarito, in a recent interview, would not discuss the lab report. Two different outlets have reported that promoter Bob Arum, whose defense of Margarito has had an air of religious fanaticism, declined to comment on the report. At first he said he hadn't seen it. But surely he's looked at it by now. And that appeal Margarito's lawyers planned of his license revocation is nowhere to be seen or heard from.
All of this quiet leaves me with no alternative to conclude that the former #1 welterweight in the world, a man who'd become a hero to Mexican fans, a boxer who had ascended to the elite ranks of the best fighters in the sport, is guilty beyond defense. And even if, by some strange coincidence, this was the first time Margarito and his trainer Javier Capetillo loaded his gloves -- Miguel Cotto's face, above, is exhibit A in the unlikelihood of such a coincidence -- it still ranks among the worst scandals in the history of a sport that has had its share. It is a scandal that has its heroes, like Mosley trainer Nazim Richardson, but that tarnishes many: Margarito, obviously, but also Arum, one of the most powerful figures in boxing for decades.
At minimum, Margarito and his team have tried to cheat once. This much we know. Comparisons to Billy Collins-Luis Resto are valid, since that, too, involved plaster of Paris according to Resto. But neither Collins nor Resto were at the top of the sport the way Margarito was prior to this scandal. Also comparable are the stories about Jack Dempsey loading his gloves with plaster of Paris prior to his destruction of Jess Willard. But many boxing historians question whether the tales were an invention of Dempsey's trainer, a known provacateur. Margarito's plaster of Paris use is confirmed. I'm not saying Margarito's situation trumps them. I'm just saying it has nasty things going for it that others don't, and that it's in the class of some of the worst of boxing's worst.
The thing is, it may be worse that we'll ever know. I can make an argument that this was just a one-time thing. It goes like this: Margarito, having trouble making weight after over-celebrating following his career best victory over Cotto, felt he needed an edge just this once. The clumsy, fumbling manner in which Capetillo was busted suggests he wasn't adept at cheating, and the clumsy, fumbling manner in which Margarito and Capetillo defended themselves after getting caught frankly makes them seem too dumb to be successful career criminals. The lack of punching power Margarito exhibited against Mosley is proof not of prior cheating, but only of his weight difficulties and difficulty connecting cleanly on a competent defender. His late-career power surge can be attributed to constant improvement; after all, look at the way he improved even after the Paul Williams loss, when he began starting fights faster instead of building up steam only for the end.
But I have to tell you, it was hard for me to even make the argument. The only thing I believe in what I just wrote was the notion that Margarito was weight-drained for the Mosley fight and that he indeed took it upon himself to fight faster early in fights after the Williams loss.
If you need evidence that Margarito and Capetillo could get away with this scheme despite their stupidity, look no further than the fact that the CSAC inspector on duty didn't notice the illegal wraps. Richardson did. Maybe Margarito improved over time, but in six of his first 12 wins, he scored knockouts. Usually, that's when a fighter gets the most KOs. Eight of those 12 opponents had losing records. Against elite competition late in his career -- Cotto, Josh Clottey, Kermit Cintron, others -- his knockout ratio is went way up, to 10 knockouts in his latest 12 wins. It is counterintuitive at best. Then there are all those reasonable assumptions about whether someone who cheated once cheated just that once. And just the appearance of Cotto's face, which Cotto said was swollen for longer than after any other fight he'd been in, abnormally so. And the time Margarito ripped Sebastian Lujan's ear half of his head with mere punches. And the way Freddie Roach pulled one of his fighters, Rashad Holloway, out of sparring with Margarito after suspecting Margarito's gloves were loaded, with Holloway's orbital bone being broken, his vision blurred and his face numbed after being hit with what he said felt like "a bag of rocks." And the way most people who have long watched Margarito have always felt his punches didn't look like they were that kind of devastating-hard.
Margarito's "I didn't know about it" excuse has fallen off the radar, so that carries less water than it once did. But considering that his excuse already was so unbelievable, it's less so in conjunction with the argument that this was the first time. Every fighter who's ever spoken about this, and even weekend warriors writing about this on message boards, have said they know when their hand wraps have changed. They can feel the difference. That leaves two options: He's was lying when he said he didn't know, or else every single hand wrap he's had over the course of his career has had plaster of Paris on his fists without him knowing.
I'd called early on only for a multi-year suspension, license revocation and substantial fine. But now that the incontrovertible evidence of loaded gloves is upon us, I'm feeling more like the book should be thrown at him than ever. All of the mitigating factors -- the possibility that Margarito didn't know, the fact that he didn't get away with his scheme -- have either fallen to the side or seem less mitigating than they did when this was theoretical. Margarito should banned for life. Capetillo should be banned for life. Maybe both will be banned for life, de facto, since they'll have to reapply for their licenses, and it's hard to imagine how they get them back. But officially issuing a lifetime ban would send the right signal to the boxing world that this kind of thing can't be tolerated. And I'd like criminal charges to be brought against both. And investigations opened in every state in which Margarito has fought.
The individual losers and winners in this are numerous.
The biggest loser is Capetillo. He is the most red-handed. I recently raised questions about junior flyweight Giovanni Segura for employing Capetillo post-suspension. Anyone who Capetillo trains from here on out warrants skepticism. He's that much of a pox upon boxing. Maybe he'll keep getting business in Mexico, where regulators don't appear bothered by much of anything, but he's finished in the United States.
Margarito is not far behind. Every win of his career deserves to be questioned. It is extremely likely that the whole career is a mirage. And it's a mirage built on the suffering of fighters he beat that probably would have gone on to better things than if they hadn't had setback losses against Margarito. That he recently refused to talk about the lab results but laid out his future plans for a rematch with Mosley or Cotto suggests he may be out of his mind, too. That is delusional talk, barring a dramatic reversal of the evidence that you couldn't write believably into "Days of Our Lives." He may fight again in Mexico, but in the span of about six months, he went from very near the top of the sport to pariah.
Arum is a particularly galling case. He went so far as to accuse the CSAC of issuing the suspension based solely on the fact that Margarito was Mexican. Arum leveled charges of racism against public officials who did the right thing, and he did it in the service of defending a boxer who, were he to end up in jail for what he did, nobody would feel very sorry for him. Arum is one of the top two promoters in the sport now, and at times has been the most powerful of them all. I spend a fair amount of time criticizing Arum in this space because I think he gets a free ride from a lot of writers, although I also acknowledge when Arum does something well. But his defense of Margarito is one of the two worst stains on his whole career, second only to his admitted bribing of the IBF during the 1990s. That such a powerful figure in boxing would defend this kind of behavior is evidence of a sport that is still, in many ways, deeply dysfunctional. And you can say, "Well, he was just sticking up for his guy," but when I've stuck up for friends who've done horrible things before, it was always with the acknowledgment that they did those horrible things or a strong conviction based on the facts that they didn't. If Arum didn't do a thorough vetting of the facts here prior to sticking up for Margarito, he was blind. If he did a thorough vetting of the facts and believed Margarito was guilty of something, he should have pressed Margarito to come clean then argued that Margarito deserved a less-harsh punishment for admitting his wrongdoing. If he did a thorough vetting of the facts and believed Margarito had done nothing wrong, he is an idiot -- and I think we all know that, whatever Arum's flaws, he's a brilliant man, so this "if/then" doesn't even make any sense. At least he's stopped talking now.
Margarito's fans, amongst whom I counted myself after being a non-believer for years, are big losers here as well. He let us down. Of course, we almost surely never would have been fans if he was just an average fighter who didn't triumph in the specific way he did. But if you liked Margarito, you feel betrayed now. The fans who defended him when all the evidence was against him may have loyalty going for them, but there's loyalty and then there's the kind of denial that is born more of a kind of zealotry than anything. I hope people who have been burned by sticking up for Margarito will realize it's one thing to be a fan of a boxer, but it's another thing to think a boxer is infallible. There are backers of Margarito and Arum in the press who have been stunningly quiet. I'm generally a big fan of Maxboxing, for instance, but in its own forums, Maxboxing has come under heavy fire for treating the Margarito scandal like, in the words of one reader, "a non-story." There are too many boxing outlets and writers who have been far too slow to treat this whole affair like the sorry incident that it is, and I think that is born of a stubborn refusal to admit they were wrong about Margarito, or an unwillingness to turn on a source like Arum, whose temper is legendary.
There are some smaller losers in all this. One that comes to mind is Keith Kizer, the executive director of the Nevada State Athletic Commission who was quick to defend his state as a place where it would be impossible to cheat the way Margarito did. Instead, Kizer should have -- and still should -- undertake an investigation, no matter how difficult it might be to prove anything, about what happened in the Cotto fight. Roach should have come forward with his allegations immediately, not waited until after Margarito was busted. What if someone had gotten hurt because of his silence? The other losers are hypothetical: anyone in the Margarito camp who knew this was going on and didn't come forward before, during or after.
There is a class of folk who are somewhere between winners and losers. The CSAC did the right thing to revoke Margarito's license, but its inspectors should have caught the initial cheating. Anyone who lost to Margarito, like Cintron and Clottey, has had his career permanently altered by those losses. But anyone who held those losses against them should no longer. They are losses that are now more excusable than ever.
Cotto is one of those who lost to Margarito, but he emerges, for me, as a full winner in this. There is little evidence that the loss to Margarito has done much damage to him mentally or physically. He may have lost a little steam on his career, but the turnout for his last fight, a "get-well" fight against a against a no-hoper, was pretty good, all things considered. Like the others, his loss to Margarito is now more excusable than ever. What gives him a little bit more of a "W" is the way he has conducted himself throughout this entire scandal. He has behaved in a way that commands respect. He has made no inflammatory, over-the-top allegations, responding with a simultaneous grace and firmness that has drawn raves. His threat to leave Arum is wholly understandable, and while there are skeptics that he could successfully promote himself on his own, Cotto would look like a patsy if he'd stood by a promoter who abandoned him in favor of defending Margarito.
Richardson is one of the biggest heroes. Not only did he bust Margarito and Capetillo, but he led Mosley to a knockout victory over Margarito. I hardly ever root for a fighter to get hurt in the ring, and never root for a fighter to get hurt badly. But Mosley dished out a little justice on Margarito's noggin, and he did it with a big assist from Richardson. It is with some small measure of satisfaction that I view Margarito's knockout loss. Anyone who beat Margarito under this cloud -- Williams, even Daniel Santos -- ought to look even better now, given that they may very well have overcome an opponent fighting them with weapons in his hands.
While some news outlets have underperformed, the Los Angeles Times, particularly Lance Pugmire, has done incredible work on the Margarito story. He has reported every development prominently and, more often than not, before all the competition. Some other reporters have had breaks in the story, too, like Kevin Iole, but Pugmire and the Times deserve special commendation.
There is a part of me that is nonetheless slightly thankful that this scandal hasn't gotten much attention. If anyone was paying attention, they'd be pointing at it and screaming the old cliches about how boxing is corrupt. I'm not of the mind it's any more corrupt than most other sports these days, but this scandal reflects very poorly on the sport as a whole. It has been my belief, though, that it must be called attention to, because in my own small way, I try to both tell it like I see it and shine sunlight on that which I feel needs sunlight, be it a good boxer who's not getting enough love or a wrong that ought to be criticized. This scandal has reached the point where some of the caveats can be ditched. But as I've said before, there's still a lot more we don't know, and much more than we should try to find out. If the sport does this right, we'll still be writing about what Margarito did for a while longer. And no matter what happens, it ought to be remembered forever as a black mark on boxing.
It has been three days since news broke that the California Department of Justice determined Antonio Margarito had ingredients of plaster of Paris in his hand wraps before he went out to fight Shane Mosley Jan. 24. I'd withheld final judgment, since only one news outlet reported it; since the report mentions the presence of two ingredients, sulfur and calcium, but not the third, oxygen -- and readily available as that element might be, it's unclear why the DOJ wouldn't just call the substance plaster of Paris if it were plaster of Paris; and since the California State Athletic Commission has yet to remark publicly about the lab results.
For three days there has been only silence from the involved parties. But there is one regard in which that silence is most damning. Margarito, in a recent interview, would not discuss the lab report. Two different outlets have reported that promoter Bob Arum, whose defense of Margarito has had an air of religious fanaticism, declined to comment on the report. At first he said he hadn't seen it. But surely he's looked at it by now. And that appeal Margarito's lawyers planned of his license revocation is nowhere to be seen or heard from.
All of this quiet leaves me with no alternative to conclude that the former #1 welterweight in the world, a man who'd become a hero to Mexican fans, a boxer who had ascended to the elite ranks of the best fighters in the sport, is guilty beyond defense. And even if, by some strange coincidence, this was the first time Margarito and his trainer Javier Capetillo loaded his gloves -- Miguel Cotto's face, above, is exhibit A in the unlikelihood of such a coincidence -- it still ranks among the worst scandals in the history of a sport that has had its share. It is a scandal that has its heroes, like Mosley trainer Nazim Richardson, but that tarnishes many: Margarito, obviously, but also Arum, one of the most powerful figures in boxing for decades.
At minimum, Margarito and his team have tried to cheat once. This much we know. Comparisons to Billy Collins-Luis Resto are valid, since that, too, involved plaster of Paris according to Resto. But neither Collins nor Resto were at the top of the sport the way Margarito was prior to this scandal. Also comparable are the stories about Jack Dempsey loading his gloves with plaster of Paris prior to his destruction of Jess Willard. But many boxing historians question whether the tales were an invention of Dempsey's trainer, a known provacateur. Margarito's plaster of Paris use is confirmed. I'm not saying Margarito's situation trumps them. I'm just saying it has nasty things going for it that others don't, and that it's in the class of some of the worst of boxing's worst.
The thing is, it may be worse that we'll ever know. I can make an argument that this was just a one-time thing. It goes like this: Margarito, having trouble making weight after over-celebrating following his career best victory over Cotto, felt he needed an edge just this once. The clumsy, fumbling manner in which Capetillo was busted suggests he wasn't adept at cheating, and the clumsy, fumbling manner in which Margarito and Capetillo defended themselves after getting caught frankly makes them seem too dumb to be successful career criminals. The lack of punching power Margarito exhibited against Mosley is proof not of prior cheating, but only of his weight difficulties and difficulty connecting cleanly on a competent defender. His late-career power surge can be attributed to constant improvement; after all, look at the way he improved even after the Paul Williams loss, when he began starting fights faster instead of building up steam only for the end.
But I have to tell you, it was hard for me to even make the argument. The only thing I believe in what I just wrote was the notion that Margarito was weight-drained for the Mosley fight and that he indeed took it upon himself to fight faster early in fights after the Williams loss.
If you need evidence that Margarito and Capetillo could get away with this scheme despite their stupidity, look no further than the fact that the CSAC inspector on duty didn't notice the illegal wraps. Richardson did. Maybe Margarito improved over time, but in six of his first 12 wins, he scored knockouts. Usually, that's when a fighter gets the most KOs. Eight of those 12 opponents had losing records. Against elite competition late in his career -- Cotto, Josh Clottey, Kermit Cintron, others -- his knockout ratio is went way up, to 10 knockouts in his latest 12 wins. It is counterintuitive at best. Then there are all those reasonable assumptions about whether someone who cheated once cheated just that once. And just the appearance of Cotto's face, which Cotto said was swollen for longer than after any other fight he'd been in, abnormally so. And the time Margarito ripped Sebastian Lujan's ear half of his head with mere punches. And the way Freddie Roach pulled one of his fighters, Rashad Holloway, out of sparring with Margarito after suspecting Margarito's gloves were loaded, with Holloway's orbital bone being broken, his vision blurred and his face numbed after being hit with what he said felt like "a bag of rocks." And the way most people who have long watched Margarito have always felt his punches didn't look like they were that kind of devastating-hard.
Margarito's "I didn't know about it" excuse has fallen off the radar, so that carries less water than it once did. But considering that his excuse already was so unbelievable, it's less so in conjunction with the argument that this was the first time. Every fighter who's ever spoken about this, and even weekend warriors writing about this on message boards, have said they know when their hand wraps have changed. They can feel the difference. That leaves two options: He's was lying when he said he didn't know, or else every single hand wrap he's had over the course of his career has had plaster of Paris on his fists without him knowing.
I'd called early on only for a multi-year suspension, license revocation and substantial fine. But now that the incontrovertible evidence of loaded gloves is upon us, I'm feeling more like the book should be thrown at him than ever. All of the mitigating factors -- the possibility that Margarito didn't know, the fact that he didn't get away with his scheme -- have either fallen to the side or seem less mitigating than they did when this was theoretical. Margarito should banned for life. Capetillo should be banned for life. Maybe both will be banned for life, de facto, since they'll have to reapply for their licenses, and it's hard to imagine how they get them back. But officially issuing a lifetime ban would send the right signal to the boxing world that this kind of thing can't be tolerated. And I'd like criminal charges to be brought against both. And investigations opened in every state in which Margarito has fought.
The individual losers and winners in this are numerous.
The biggest loser is Capetillo. He is the most red-handed. I recently raised questions about junior flyweight Giovanni Segura for employing Capetillo post-suspension. Anyone who Capetillo trains from here on out warrants skepticism. He's that much of a pox upon boxing. Maybe he'll keep getting business in Mexico, where regulators don't appear bothered by much of anything, but he's finished in the United States.
Margarito is not far behind. Every win of his career deserves to be questioned. It is extremely likely that the whole career is a mirage. And it's a mirage built on the suffering of fighters he beat that probably would have gone on to better things than if they hadn't had setback losses against Margarito. That he recently refused to talk about the lab results but laid out his future plans for a rematch with Mosley or Cotto suggests he may be out of his mind, too. That is delusional talk, barring a dramatic reversal of the evidence that you couldn't write believably into "Days of Our Lives." He may fight again in Mexico, but in the span of about six months, he went from very near the top of the sport to pariah.
Arum is a particularly galling case. He went so far as to accuse the CSAC of issuing the suspension based solely on the fact that Margarito was Mexican. Arum leveled charges of racism against public officials who did the right thing, and he did it in the service of defending a boxer who, were he to end up in jail for what he did, nobody would feel very sorry for him. Arum is one of the top two promoters in the sport now, and at times has been the most powerful of them all. I spend a fair amount of time criticizing Arum in this space because I think he gets a free ride from a lot of writers, although I also acknowledge when Arum does something well. But his defense of Margarito is one of the two worst stains on his whole career, second only to his admitted bribing of the IBF during the 1990s. That such a powerful figure in boxing would defend this kind of behavior is evidence of a sport that is still, in many ways, deeply dysfunctional. And you can say, "Well, he was just sticking up for his guy," but when I've stuck up for friends who've done horrible things before, it was always with the acknowledgment that they did those horrible things or a strong conviction based on the facts that they didn't. If Arum didn't do a thorough vetting of the facts here prior to sticking up for Margarito, he was blind. If he did a thorough vetting of the facts and believed Margarito was guilty of something, he should have pressed Margarito to come clean then argued that Margarito deserved a less-harsh punishment for admitting his wrongdoing. If he did a thorough vetting of the facts and believed Margarito had done nothing wrong, he is an idiot -- and I think we all know that, whatever Arum's flaws, he's a brilliant man, so this "if/then" doesn't even make any sense. At least he's stopped talking now.
Margarito's fans, amongst whom I counted myself after being a non-believer for years, are big losers here as well. He let us down. Of course, we almost surely never would have been fans if he was just an average fighter who didn't triumph in the specific way he did. But if you liked Margarito, you feel betrayed now. The fans who defended him when all the evidence was against him may have loyalty going for them, but there's loyalty and then there's the kind of denial that is born more of a kind of zealotry than anything. I hope people who have been burned by sticking up for Margarito will realize it's one thing to be a fan of a boxer, but it's another thing to think a boxer is infallible. There are backers of Margarito and Arum in the press who have been stunningly quiet. I'm generally a big fan of Maxboxing, for instance, but in its own forums, Maxboxing has come under heavy fire for treating the Margarito scandal like, in the words of one reader, "a non-story." There are too many boxing outlets and writers who have been far too slow to treat this whole affair like the sorry incident that it is, and I think that is born of a stubborn refusal to admit they were wrong about Margarito, or an unwillingness to turn on a source like Arum, whose temper is legendary.
There are some smaller losers in all this. One that comes to mind is Keith Kizer, the executive director of the Nevada State Athletic Commission who was quick to defend his state as a place where it would be impossible to cheat the way Margarito did. Instead, Kizer should have -- and still should -- undertake an investigation, no matter how difficult it might be to prove anything, about what happened in the Cotto fight. Roach should have come forward with his allegations immediately, not waited until after Margarito was busted. What if someone had gotten hurt because of his silence? The other losers are hypothetical: anyone in the Margarito camp who knew this was going on and didn't come forward before, during or after.
There is a class of folk who are somewhere between winners and losers. The CSAC did the right thing to revoke Margarito's license, but its inspectors should have caught the initial cheating. Anyone who lost to Margarito, like Cintron and Clottey, has had his career permanently altered by those losses. But anyone who held those losses against them should no longer. They are losses that are now more excusable than ever.
Cotto is one of those who lost to Margarito, but he emerges, for me, as a full winner in this. There is little evidence that the loss to Margarito has done much damage to him mentally or physically. He may have lost a little steam on his career, but the turnout for his last fight, a "get-well" fight against a against a no-hoper, was pretty good, all things considered. Like the others, his loss to Margarito is now more excusable than ever. What gives him a little bit more of a "W" is the way he has conducted himself throughout this entire scandal. He has behaved in a way that commands respect. He has made no inflammatory, over-the-top allegations, responding with a simultaneous grace and firmness that has drawn raves. His threat to leave Arum is wholly understandable, and while there are skeptics that he could successfully promote himself on his own, Cotto would look like a patsy if he'd stood by a promoter who abandoned him in favor of defending Margarito.
Richardson is one of the biggest heroes. Not only did he bust Margarito and Capetillo, but he led Mosley to a knockout victory over Margarito. I hardly ever root for a fighter to get hurt in the ring, and never root for a fighter to get hurt badly. But Mosley dished out a little justice on Margarito's noggin, and he did it with a big assist from Richardson. It is with some small measure of satisfaction that I view Margarito's knockout loss. Anyone who beat Margarito under this cloud -- Williams, even Daniel Santos -- ought to look even better now, given that they may very well have overcome an opponent fighting them with weapons in his hands.
While some news outlets have underperformed, the Los Angeles Times, particularly Lance Pugmire, has done incredible work on the Margarito story. He has reported every development prominently and, more often than not, before all the competition. Some other reporters have had breaks in the story, too, like Kevin Iole, but Pugmire and the Times deserve special commendation.
There is a part of me that is nonetheless slightly thankful that this scandal hasn't gotten much attention. If anyone was paying attention, they'd be pointing at it and screaming the old cliches about how boxing is corrupt. I'm not of the mind it's any more corrupt than most other sports these days, but this scandal reflects very poorly on the sport as a whole. It has been my belief, though, that it must be called attention to, because in my own small way, I try to both tell it like I see it and shine sunlight on that which I feel needs sunlight, be it a good boxer who's not getting enough love or a wrong that ought to be criticized. This scandal has reached the point where some of the caveats can be ditched. But as I've said before, there's still a lot more we don't know, and much more than we should try to find out. If the sport does this right, we'll still be writing about what Margarito did for a while longer. And no matter what happens, it ought to be remembered forever as a black mark on boxing.
Tecate to Sponsor Manny Pacquiao Ricky Hatton Boxing Event
WHITE PLAINS, N.Y.
Tecate, cerveza con carácter, announces its sponsorship of one of the most anticipated boxing events of the year. Facing Ring magazine’s No. 1 ranked pound-for-pound champion Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao (48-3-2, 36 KOs) will be IBO World Junior Welterweight champion Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton (45-1, 32 KOs). They will fight for the World Junior Welterweight Championship on Saturday, May 2 at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas, in a match that will be televised via HBO Pay-Per-View..
“Cinco de Mayo, one of the most celebrated Mexican holidays in the U.S., has been witness to some of the best boxing matches in recent years. We’re excited to celebrate the day with adult Hispanic fans in Las Vegas, and to make the HBO Pay-Per-View telecast accessible to those unable to join us in person through our popular mail-in rebate offer,” said Carlos Boughton, brand director for Tecate. “As an authentic Mexican brand, Tecate is a relevant part of the role that boxing plays in the lives of our consumers who enjoy watching the sport so consequently we strive to give them the opportunity to experience the passion of the sport. This Cinco de Mayo, Tecate will be wherever our consumers are.”
Tecate will launch an extensive integrated program that will include various elements, such as a commemorative 24-oz can featuring the image of both fighters and a $20 mail-in rebate discount for the HBO Pay-Per-View event with the purchase of an 12-pack or larger of Tecate.
Tecate also will develop thousands of thematic POS elements and posters with fight details that will be distributed nationally to grocery, convenience and liquor stores. Furthermore, Tecate will tailor its out-of-home, TV and radio spots to include information about the event. These will be launched four weeks prior to the bout in key markets such as Ariz., Calif., Colo., Idaho, Nev., N.M., Ore., Utah and Wash.
To increase excitement in the days leading up to May 2, Tecate will offer boxing fans the opportunity to meet their favorite athletes through exclusive autograph and photo sessions with Golden Boy Promotions fighters and the attractive Chicas Tecate. These events will take place in markets such as Las Vegas, Los Angeles and San Diego.
Tecate, cerveza con carácter, announces its sponsorship of one of the most anticipated boxing events of the year. Facing Ring magazine’s No. 1 ranked pound-for-pound champion Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao (48-3-2, 36 KOs) will be IBO World Junior Welterweight champion Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton (45-1, 32 KOs). They will fight for the World Junior Welterweight Championship on Saturday, May 2 at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas, in a match that will be televised via HBO Pay-Per-View..
“Cinco de Mayo, one of the most celebrated Mexican holidays in the U.S., has been witness to some of the best boxing matches in recent years. We’re excited to celebrate the day with adult Hispanic fans in Las Vegas, and to make the HBO Pay-Per-View telecast accessible to those unable to join us in person through our popular mail-in rebate offer,” said Carlos Boughton, brand director for Tecate. “As an authentic Mexican brand, Tecate is a relevant part of the role that boxing plays in the lives of our consumers who enjoy watching the sport so consequently we strive to give them the opportunity to experience the passion of the sport. This Cinco de Mayo, Tecate will be wherever our consumers are.”
Tecate will launch an extensive integrated program that will include various elements, such as a commemorative 24-oz can featuring the image of both fighters and a $20 mail-in rebate discount for the HBO Pay-Per-View event with the purchase of an 12-pack or larger of Tecate.
Tecate also will develop thousands of thematic POS elements and posters with fight details that will be distributed nationally to grocery, convenience and liquor stores. Furthermore, Tecate will tailor its out-of-home, TV and radio spots to include information about the event. These will be launched four weeks prior to the bout in key markets such as Ariz., Calif., Colo., Idaho, Nev., N.M., Ore., Utah and Wash.
To increase excitement in the days leading up to May 2, Tecate will offer boxing fans the opportunity to meet their favorite athletes through exclusive autograph and photo sessions with Golden Boy Promotions fighters and the attractive Chicas Tecate. These events will take place in markets such as Las Vegas, Los Angeles and San Diego.
Jesus Pimentel & Frank Baltazar
"Little Poison" . . .
By Rick Farris
Two of my all-time favorite West Coast Hall of Famer's, Frank & Jesus Pimentel.
Jesus Pimentel was an early favorite of mine, one of the grestest punchers ever at 118 pounds. I always thought he should have been a world champ, yet due to his management, he didn't actually step into the ring to fight for a title until his last pro fight. He was way past prime when he challenged one of the greatest champs ever in Ruben Olivares, in December 1971.
A few years earlier, the title was there for him to take in a 1968 title fight against a weak Fighting Harada. The Japanese world bantam champ was having difficulty making weight for the scheduled defense against Pimentel in Tokyo. His wise manager Harry Kabakoff tries pulling a fast one on the Japanses promoter and says they will not fight unless Pimentel gets a greater percentage. Three days before the fight he pulls Jesus out of the fight, just as they did a few years earlier when Pimentel was scheduled to fight Eder Jofre. The promoter refused to bend to Harry's demands and found Lionel Rose to fill in. The light hitting Rose floored Harada and took the title, just as Pimentel likely would have.
Regardless, over the years I loved watching Little Poison in action. The first time I saw him fight live was in 1966, at the Olympic, when he flattened Canadian champ Jackie Burke in four rounds. A few years later we'd box together in the gym. When he and Olivares tangled, I knew that Jesus would have little chance of winning, but I knew there was a great chance for a KO (Just looking at the more than 120 KO's between the two men). Sure enough, Olivares stopped Jessie, and Pimentel wisely called it a career.
Here's how George Parnassus handled Harry Kabakoff prior to the Olivares-Pimentel title bout. Knowing the Harry might try to renegotiate, George brought in another challeneger, Rafael Herrera, as a stnd-by opponent for Olivares should Pimentel pull out. Harry stayed quiet and Herrera would fight Olivares later, taking the title from "Rock-a-bye Ruben".
Boxing Legend, CARMEN BASILIO, gets in the Interview Ring with RSR.
By Dan Hernandez
“My last fight was this morning; I fought with my wife, and lost!"
Carmen Basilio
So began my interview with Carmen Basilio, former undisputed Welterweight and Middleweight Champion of the World. Carmen, with one of the most colorful nicknames in boxing, “The Upstate Onion Farmer”, having harvested onions and other vegetables as a farmer in his hometown of Canastota, New York. He was energetic, responsive, and deservedly pleased of his life’s achievements.
Carmen Basilio had a career record of 79 fights with 56 wins, 16 losses, and 7 draws. He also had 27 knockouts to his credit. This was at a time when an unbeaten record was nice but not required. The goal was to receive the training available from the school of hard knocks and always do the best that you possibly could. Carmen achieved his two titles with storied battles, defeating Tony DeMarco for the welterweight championship, and all-time, “pound for pound” greatest fighter, “Sugar” Ray Robinson, for his middleweight laurels.
In 1956, Basilio lost his welterweight championship in Chicago to Johnny Saxton by way of a 15 round decision. It has been inferred that Saxton got the decision because of his ties with the Chicago underworld. Paid off judges and other bad influences were blamed. This was never verified; however, Carmen regained his title with a ninth round knockout over Saxton in the re-match and a second round stoppage in in their third and final tiff.
On September 23, 1957, Basilio went up in weight to capture the middleweight title from Robinson. It was a close but decisive victory. To hold the middleweight belt Carmen was forced to relinquish his welterweight championship. Basilio won the Hickok Belt as top professional athlete of year for 1957. He was managed at that time by
Robinson and Basilio fought their rematch on March 25, 1958 with Robinson regaining his belt by a unanimous 15 round decision. The fans were clamoring for a third match that never materialized. Robinson requested too much money for a rubber match and it was speculated that the first two fights were so close that he wanted to avoid a third encounter. Carmen also fought and lost two tough fights to Gene Fullmer and once to Paul Pender in an attempt to wrestle the middleweight crown. The Pender contest was his last professional bout.
There was an HBO documentary on Sugar Ray Robinson, entitled “The Dark Side Of A Champion”, where Carmen was interviewed and he mentioned that he respected Robinson’s talents in the ring, but did not like him as a person. He called him a “Son of a bitch” and said he was the most arrogant, unpleasant person that you would ever want to meet. He confirms that sentiment in this interview. Our publisher, “Bad” Brad” Berkwitt, had the pleasure of meeting Basilio at a Charity for the Children of Washington, DC, in 2001. Carmen was 74 years of age at the time and Brad recalls that he was punched on the arm by ‘the onion farmer” in a playful manner and it” hurt like hell.” Being the man that he is, Brad shook it off as if it was nothing. However, I can’t help but wonder if Brad blamed the tears in his eyes on the onions.
At 81, Basilio reflects on his successful 59 year marriage, championships, teaching for 25 years, training his nephew to a world title, and boxing today.
DH: Mr. Basilio, Carmen, How are you doing?
That’s me Carmen. I’m doing fine.
DH: How long has it been since you last fought?
My last fight was with my wife this morning, and I lost! Again. That’s one you can’t win.
DH: Are you still involved with the fight game at all?
Well I watch it. ` I pay attention to it. It was a big part of my life. Naturally, I pay attention to it.
DH: You had many tremendous fights. What is your favorite fight memory?
Winning! Winning championships.
DH: How does it feel to be a champion?
It feels great. It’s a target that you’re aiming for and when you win, it’s great. And you make a lot of friends with it. It made your friends happy.
DH: Did you keep those friends over the years?
Oh yeah, I see them all the time.
DH: Like whom do you see?
Oh all around my home town of Syracuse, throughout New York State. And areas I have lived in. See I was a phys ed teacher at LeMoyne College for 25 years. After I quit fighting I was a phys ed teacher at LeMoyne College in Syracuse and I see a lot of my former students all the time, and they are all doctors and lawyers and all that stuff.
DH: You helped them get there. How do you feel about that?
It feels good, it does. I got along good with the kids.
DH: Do you keep in contact with any of the old fighters?
I see them occasionally; I go to a fight now and then.
DH: I spoke with Gene Fullmer awhile back. Do you remember him?
Yeah, he was a tough one. They didn’t come any tougher than him.
DH: Gene said he felt the same about you.
Yeah, I hit him a few shots and he hit me a few shots. We kicked the shit out of each other.
DH: He had a great deal of respect for you.
I hope so; there couldn’t be ant tougher than him.
DH: How did you feel about Ray Robinson?
Robinson? He was not a nice guy.
DH: What did he do that wasn’t nice?
I don’t know, he had a arrogance about him. It would really turn you off. He was not a friendly guy. He was a great fighter and you can’t take that away from him, but he was not a great person.
DH: Robinson had a sad ending.
Yeah, not a nice guy at all.
DH: How is your nephew, Billy Backus, doing?
He’s doing fine. He’s got a good job and he’s with his wife and kids everyday.
He lives in North Carolina now.
DH: That’s a little away from you.
It’s down south.
DH: Were you a farmer?
I was a farmer. I was born on a farm I was brought up on a farm.
DH: What did you farm?
Onions, lettuce, potatoes, carrots, anything that you can eat, we grew.
DH: Do you miss farming?
No, I don’t miss it. It was a lot of hard work. We lived good but it was slave labor. We never had money.
DH: What do you think about the money available in boxing today?
I hope they can keep it. God bless them, more power to them.
DH: How do you feel about today’s fighters?
They’re ok for today, but if most of them were around in our day, they would be in trouble. They don’t have the experience, they are moved too fast. Today they want to get to the top fast but sometimes that’s not so good because they don’t really get the experience they need. They need to be good finished fighters.
DH: What is your feeling about unbeaten records?
They can stick them up their ass, if they can’t beat anybody.
,
DH: Who was your manager when you fought?
I didn’t get along with my first manager I had when I started fighting so we broke off. My managers during my championship years were Johnny De John and Joe Netro. My trainers were Al Silvani and Angelo Dundee.
DH: Were they good managers?
They were all right. They took care of me and I took care of them. I made them look pretty good.
DH: Did you ever become a manager or trainer yourself?
I trained my nephew, Billy Backus, as a fighter. He became welterweight world champion. I used to spar with him and everything, he couldn’t hit me in the ass with a broom. I had too much experience for him and I knew all the dirty tricks.
DH: What are some of the dirty tricks?
Not really dirty, I was making moves at him and making him miss a lot. Then I would counter punch him, outsmarted him. I was teaching him how to do it.
DH: Did he learn?
He learned a lot, yeah. One difference though is that he’s a southpaw and I was right-handed.
DH: Who are your favorite fighters today Carmen?
To tell you the truth, I don’t follow them much right now. But if you mention some names there might be a few fighters that I can remember.
DH: Are you with familiar with Mayweather or De La Hoya?
Do you believe that I’ve never seen Mayweather fight. I have seen De La Hoya fight and he’s all right, he’s a good fighter, but if he was around in our day, he would be in trouble. Mosley is a good fighter. Different times, different age, and experience. They just don’t train and prepare like we used to.
DH: When was your last fight?
With my wife, I lost.
DH: Beside your wife, when was your last professional fight?
That was a 15 round championship fight with Paul Pender in 1961. I was 32 or 33 at the time.
DH: What do you think of 12 round title fights?
They are good fights if the fighter is a good fighter. It’s a safety rule that’s all. It’s to prevent serious injuries. When you get into the later rounds, 12 and up, the less experienced guys get tired and get beat bad. You could get some serious injuries, so it’s good the way it is.
DH: Would you do anything different with your career?
No, I did what I wanted to do. I became champion in two divisions, welterweight and middleweight. I had to struggle awhile to make it and wound up with mononucleosis that held me back a bit, but then I made a comeback. I got over that and got my strength back again. I got stronger and I had no problem.
DH: Did you fight everyone that you wanted to?
I fought everybody that I thought made sense for us all to fight. The fights that the public wanted to see.
DH: Former Light-heavyweight champ, Archie Moore said Charley Burley was one of the best fighters he ever knew. Did you see Burley fight?
No, I never did, but if Moore said it, it must have been so. I knew Archie very well and he was a great fighter and a good guy too.
DH: Did you see Moore’ first fight with Yvonne Durelle?
I did. Archie was around a long time when he fought Durelle, he was already part of the over-the-hill group.
DH: Who was your favorite fighter over the years?
Willie Pep, the featherweight champion of the world. I got to know him and he was a great fighter.
DH: He fought too long didn’t he?
I don’t know that, he was good enough that he got away with it. He never got hurt and did very well.
DH: Have you been married a long time Carmen?
Josie and I were married in 1950.
DH: I’m catching up, I’ve got 43 years married.
You’ve got a long way to go. You gotta pay your penance. You had better.
DH: I have really enjoyed you taking the time to talk to me. Is there anything you’d like to say to the fans?
Keep your hands up high, your ass off the floor, and keep moving.
“My last fight was this morning; I fought with my wife, and lost!"
Carmen Basilio
So began my interview with Carmen Basilio, former undisputed Welterweight and Middleweight Champion of the World. Carmen, with one of the most colorful nicknames in boxing, “The Upstate Onion Farmer”, having harvested onions and other vegetables as a farmer in his hometown of Canastota, New York. He was energetic, responsive, and deservedly pleased of his life’s achievements.
Carmen Basilio had a career record of 79 fights with 56 wins, 16 losses, and 7 draws. He also had 27 knockouts to his credit. This was at a time when an unbeaten record was nice but not required. The goal was to receive the training available from the school of hard knocks and always do the best that you possibly could. Carmen achieved his two titles with storied battles, defeating Tony DeMarco for the welterweight championship, and all-time, “pound for pound” greatest fighter, “Sugar” Ray Robinson, for his middleweight laurels.
In 1956, Basilio lost his welterweight championship in Chicago to Johnny Saxton by way of a 15 round decision. It has been inferred that Saxton got the decision because of his ties with the Chicago underworld. Paid off judges and other bad influences were blamed. This was never verified; however, Carmen regained his title with a ninth round knockout over Saxton in the re-match and a second round stoppage in in their third and final tiff.
On September 23, 1957, Basilio went up in weight to capture the middleweight title from Robinson. It was a close but decisive victory. To hold the middleweight belt Carmen was forced to relinquish his welterweight championship. Basilio won the Hickok Belt as top professional athlete of year for 1957. He was managed at that time by
Robinson and Basilio fought their rematch on March 25, 1958 with Robinson regaining his belt by a unanimous 15 round decision. The fans were clamoring for a third match that never materialized. Robinson requested too much money for a rubber match and it was speculated that the first two fights were so close that he wanted to avoid a third encounter. Carmen also fought and lost two tough fights to Gene Fullmer and once to Paul Pender in an attempt to wrestle the middleweight crown. The Pender contest was his last professional bout.
There was an HBO documentary on Sugar Ray Robinson, entitled “The Dark Side Of A Champion”, where Carmen was interviewed and he mentioned that he respected Robinson’s talents in the ring, but did not like him as a person. He called him a “Son of a bitch” and said he was the most arrogant, unpleasant person that you would ever want to meet. He confirms that sentiment in this interview. Our publisher, “Bad” Brad” Berkwitt, had the pleasure of meeting Basilio at a Charity for the Children of Washington, DC, in 2001. Carmen was 74 years of age at the time and Brad recalls that he was punched on the arm by ‘the onion farmer” in a playful manner and it” hurt like hell.” Being the man that he is, Brad shook it off as if it was nothing. However, I can’t help but wonder if Brad blamed the tears in his eyes on the onions.
At 81, Basilio reflects on his successful 59 year marriage, championships, teaching for 25 years, training his nephew to a world title, and boxing today.
DH: Mr. Basilio, Carmen, How are you doing?
That’s me Carmen. I’m doing fine.
DH: How long has it been since you last fought?
My last fight was with my wife this morning, and I lost! Again. That’s one you can’t win.
DH: Are you still involved with the fight game at all?
Well I watch it. ` I pay attention to it. It was a big part of my life. Naturally, I pay attention to it.
DH: You had many tremendous fights. What is your favorite fight memory?
Winning! Winning championships.
DH: How does it feel to be a champion?
It feels great. It’s a target that you’re aiming for and when you win, it’s great. And you make a lot of friends with it. It made your friends happy.
DH: Did you keep those friends over the years?
Oh yeah, I see them all the time.
DH: Like whom do you see?
Oh all around my home town of Syracuse, throughout New York State. And areas I have lived in. See I was a phys ed teacher at LeMoyne College for 25 years. After I quit fighting I was a phys ed teacher at LeMoyne College in Syracuse and I see a lot of my former students all the time, and they are all doctors and lawyers and all that stuff.
DH: You helped them get there. How do you feel about that?
It feels good, it does. I got along good with the kids.
DH: Do you keep in contact with any of the old fighters?
I see them occasionally; I go to a fight now and then.
DH: I spoke with Gene Fullmer awhile back. Do you remember him?
Yeah, he was a tough one. They didn’t come any tougher than him.
DH: Gene said he felt the same about you.
Yeah, I hit him a few shots and he hit me a few shots. We kicked the shit out of each other.
DH: He had a great deal of respect for you.
I hope so; there couldn’t be ant tougher than him.
DH: How did you feel about Ray Robinson?
Robinson? He was not a nice guy.
DH: What did he do that wasn’t nice?
I don’t know, he had a arrogance about him. It would really turn you off. He was not a friendly guy. He was a great fighter and you can’t take that away from him, but he was not a great person.
DH: Robinson had a sad ending.
Yeah, not a nice guy at all.
DH: How is your nephew, Billy Backus, doing?
He’s doing fine. He’s got a good job and he’s with his wife and kids everyday.
He lives in North Carolina now.
DH: That’s a little away from you.
It’s down south.
DH: Were you a farmer?
I was a farmer. I was born on a farm I was brought up on a farm.
DH: What did you farm?
Onions, lettuce, potatoes, carrots, anything that you can eat, we grew.
DH: Do you miss farming?
No, I don’t miss it. It was a lot of hard work. We lived good but it was slave labor. We never had money.
DH: What do you think about the money available in boxing today?
I hope they can keep it. God bless them, more power to them.
DH: How do you feel about today’s fighters?
They’re ok for today, but if most of them were around in our day, they would be in trouble. They don’t have the experience, they are moved too fast. Today they want to get to the top fast but sometimes that’s not so good because they don’t really get the experience they need. They need to be good finished fighters.
DH: What is your feeling about unbeaten records?
They can stick them up their ass, if they can’t beat anybody.
,
DH: Who was your manager when you fought?
I didn’t get along with my first manager I had when I started fighting so we broke off. My managers during my championship years were Johnny De John and Joe Netro. My trainers were Al Silvani and Angelo Dundee.
DH: Were they good managers?
They were all right. They took care of me and I took care of them. I made them look pretty good.
DH: Did you ever become a manager or trainer yourself?
I trained my nephew, Billy Backus, as a fighter. He became welterweight world champion. I used to spar with him and everything, he couldn’t hit me in the ass with a broom. I had too much experience for him and I knew all the dirty tricks.
DH: What are some of the dirty tricks?
Not really dirty, I was making moves at him and making him miss a lot. Then I would counter punch him, outsmarted him. I was teaching him how to do it.
DH: Did he learn?
He learned a lot, yeah. One difference though is that he’s a southpaw and I was right-handed.
DH: Who are your favorite fighters today Carmen?
To tell you the truth, I don’t follow them much right now. But if you mention some names there might be a few fighters that I can remember.
DH: Are you with familiar with Mayweather or De La Hoya?
Do you believe that I’ve never seen Mayweather fight. I have seen De La Hoya fight and he’s all right, he’s a good fighter, but if he was around in our day, he would be in trouble. Mosley is a good fighter. Different times, different age, and experience. They just don’t train and prepare like we used to.
DH: When was your last fight?
With my wife, I lost.
DH: Beside your wife, when was your last professional fight?
That was a 15 round championship fight with Paul Pender in 1961. I was 32 or 33 at the time.
DH: What do you think of 12 round title fights?
They are good fights if the fighter is a good fighter. It’s a safety rule that’s all. It’s to prevent serious injuries. When you get into the later rounds, 12 and up, the less experienced guys get tired and get beat bad. You could get some serious injuries, so it’s good the way it is.
DH: Would you do anything different with your career?
No, I did what I wanted to do. I became champion in two divisions, welterweight and middleweight. I had to struggle awhile to make it and wound up with mononucleosis that held me back a bit, but then I made a comeback. I got over that and got my strength back again. I got stronger and I had no problem.
DH: Did you fight everyone that you wanted to?
I fought everybody that I thought made sense for us all to fight. The fights that the public wanted to see.
DH: Former Light-heavyweight champ, Archie Moore said Charley Burley was one of the best fighters he ever knew. Did you see Burley fight?
No, I never did, but if Moore said it, it must have been so. I knew Archie very well and he was a great fighter and a good guy too.
DH: Did you see Moore’ first fight with Yvonne Durelle?
I did. Archie was around a long time when he fought Durelle, he was already part of the over-the-hill group.
DH: Who was your favorite fighter over the years?
Willie Pep, the featherweight champion of the world. I got to know him and he was a great fighter.
DH: He fought too long didn’t he?
I don’t know that, he was good enough that he got away with it. He never got hurt and did very well.
DH: Have you been married a long time Carmen?
Josie and I were married in 1950.
DH: I’m catching up, I’ve got 43 years married.
You’ve got a long way to go. You gotta pay your penance. You had better.
DH: I have really enjoyed you taking the time to talk to me. Is there anything you’d like to say to the fans?
Keep your hands up high, your ass off the floor, and keep moving.
Mexican Favorite Octavio Lara Ends Boxing Career
BY KEVIN WALTERS
Michigan boxing fans will be surprised and saddened to learn that they have seen the last of Detroit favorite Octavio Lara inside the ring. The young man who was once called the “next Tommy Hearns” and who it was hoped would revive the sport of boxing in Detroit revealed exclusively to Sportssummary that he was through boxing professionally.
"I tried to come back and I didn’t see things working out.” - Octavio Lara
The 22-year old Lara assessed his career and made what had to be the toughest decision of his young life: To give up the sport he loves; the sport he worked so hard at for so many years.
Over a bottle of orange juice at a Tim Horton’s restaurant in Lincoln Park, the shy Light Welterweight opened up about his decision to leave the sport, his past difficulties and his plans for the future.
Octavio Lara poses with his father, Javier.
Photo: sportssummary.com
Starting out more reserved, Lara opened up considerably after the arrival of his parents, Javier and Ana, his 12-year old brother Adrian and 5-year old niece, Jocelyn. Lara, not unlike most of us, is a man who feels more comfortable with people he trusts near him.
Born January 13, 1984 in Los Angeles, Lara moved with his family to the city of Detroit three years later.
Boxing and soccer are huge in Mexico, Lara says, and he gravitated toward the former largely because Julio Cesar Chavez, Sr. was – and still is – his idol. He watched every televised Chavez fight as a kid and it had quite an effect.
“I would get nervous,” Lara said. “My hands would sweat, everything, just watching him fight. I wanted to do that.”
“He kept me like a keychain. Wherever he would go, I was there.” - Octavio Lara
The young, now ex-fighter, smiles broadly when asked if he has met his idol. The answer is yes, several times. Chavez is one of many big names that Lara met through mentor, coach, trainer and friend Emanuel Steward.
It is here, talking about his relationship with Steward, especially in the early days, that Lara’s broad smile really shines. Remembering the times that Steward took him to meet Lennox Lewis, Oscar De La Hoya, Floyd Mayweather, Jr., and others.
“He kept me like a keychain,” Lara beamed. “Wherever he would go, I was there.”
So why did this 7-2-0 (5 knockouts) fighter, who won his last fight this past March, decide it was time to stop boxing?
“I didn’t think it was working out for me,” Lara said. “You know, sometimes you can tell when things aren’t working out.”
Lara went on to explain that he had planned, from an early age, to only fight for a certain number of years and then move on. Lara was not going to be climbing through the ropes in middle age.
“I decided for myself that I wanted to jump pro at like 18, 19 years old and do what I can and get out of the sport at twenty-five,” Lara said. “And, it didn’t seem to work out like that.”
Lara blames himself for the trouble he got into, in 2003, and the self-imposed 16-month break from boxing that followed, which interrupted the momentum of what by all accounts was a very promising career.
Talks between Steward and Oscar De La Hoya’s Golden Boy Promotions were ongoing at that time and, Lara explained, a contract was dependent on his winning the November 22 fight with Rogelio Ramirez. Unfortunately, Lara saw his first professional defeat in the Los Angeles fight by unanimous decision after six rounds.
That fight came just days after his release from police custody following a drive-by shooting in which the 19-year old fighter was a passenger. Lara and several others were held at Detroit’s 4th precinct for four days but released without charges. The driver was charged and convicted – his formal arrest coming the day before Octavio’s L.A. fight – and is currently serving a life sentence in a Michigan prison.
Photo: sportssummary.com
Lara admits he was not prepared “physically or mentally” for the Ramirez battle as a result of injuring his hand two weeks before the scheduled fight and breaking from his training routine as his involvement in Detroit’s gang scene increased.
Lara speaks of the events that led up to the fatal shooting not with machismo or bravado, but with regret both in his mannerism and his voice. He speaks quieter, is less animated, and looks down more frequently than when discussing other aspects of his life.
The L.A. loss was the first of two for Lara, the second coming in a controversial split decision last November to Leo Martinez at The Palace. Opinions, amongst those who saw the fight, as to why Lara lost differ. Some said he was not prepared to fight a Mexican-style fighter while others believe his Columbus, Ohio opponent fought dirty – excessive holding and at least one head butt. As for Lara, he is less blameful, repeating Sunday what he said minutes after that November 4 fight. “If the ref didn’t see it, it’s not illegal.” And the referee didn’t see it.
“I tried to come back,” Lara explained, “and I didn’t see things working out.”
“He is very special to me.”
Emanuel Steward said of Octavio Lara.
Asked what Steward’s reaction was when told of his decision to quit boxing, Lara said the legendary trainer was supportive and repeated an earlier offer of financial help for Lara to attend college.
In a telephone interview from Little Rock, Arkansas, where he was holding a press conference with Jermain Taylor, Steward repeated his offer of financial assistance for college.
“I will pay for your school,” Steward said he told Lara on Tuesday night.
Steward said that he did have one concern with Lara’s plans for college, however.
“It’s too long (waiting until next year),” Steward said. “He needs to go back sooner.”
“He really got me involved again with the younger kids,” Steward said, crediting Lara with helping revive the Kronk Gym’s amateur boxing program, which he said had been dead for four years before a chubby, 7-year old Mexican kid named Octavio started coming to the Detroit gym. “He is very special to me,” Steward said of Lara.
The Future
Lara currently works at a downtown Detroit car dealership.
As for the future, Lara has plans to go to college – either Wayne State in Detroit or Henry Ford Community College in Dearborn – to study, among other things, business. He hopes, also, to remain involved in the sport by helping to train young amateurs and also keep them from making the same mistakes out-of-the-ring that he did
But, college is a few months away.
For the immediate future, Lara has agreed to try his ungloved hands at sports reporting and will cover the upcoming October 20 fight night at The Palace for SportsSummary.
Michigan boxing fans will be surprised and saddened to learn that they have seen the last of Detroit favorite Octavio Lara inside the ring. The young man who was once called the “next Tommy Hearns” and who it was hoped would revive the sport of boxing in Detroit revealed exclusively to Sportssummary that he was through boxing professionally.
"I tried to come back and I didn’t see things working out.” - Octavio Lara
The 22-year old Lara assessed his career and made what had to be the toughest decision of his young life: To give up the sport he loves; the sport he worked so hard at for so many years.
Over a bottle of orange juice at a Tim Horton’s restaurant in Lincoln Park, the shy Light Welterweight opened up about his decision to leave the sport, his past difficulties and his plans for the future.
Octavio Lara poses with his father, Javier.
Photo: sportssummary.com
Starting out more reserved, Lara opened up considerably after the arrival of his parents, Javier and Ana, his 12-year old brother Adrian and 5-year old niece, Jocelyn. Lara, not unlike most of us, is a man who feels more comfortable with people he trusts near him.
Born January 13, 1984 in Los Angeles, Lara moved with his family to the city of Detroit three years later.
Boxing and soccer are huge in Mexico, Lara says, and he gravitated toward the former largely because Julio Cesar Chavez, Sr. was – and still is – his idol. He watched every televised Chavez fight as a kid and it had quite an effect.
“I would get nervous,” Lara said. “My hands would sweat, everything, just watching him fight. I wanted to do that.”
“He kept me like a keychain. Wherever he would go, I was there.” - Octavio Lara
The young, now ex-fighter, smiles broadly when asked if he has met his idol. The answer is yes, several times. Chavez is one of many big names that Lara met through mentor, coach, trainer and friend Emanuel Steward.
It is here, talking about his relationship with Steward, especially in the early days, that Lara’s broad smile really shines. Remembering the times that Steward took him to meet Lennox Lewis, Oscar De La Hoya, Floyd Mayweather, Jr., and others.
“He kept me like a keychain,” Lara beamed. “Wherever he would go, I was there.”
So why did this 7-2-0 (5 knockouts) fighter, who won his last fight this past March, decide it was time to stop boxing?
“I didn’t think it was working out for me,” Lara said. “You know, sometimes you can tell when things aren’t working out.”
Lara went on to explain that he had planned, from an early age, to only fight for a certain number of years and then move on. Lara was not going to be climbing through the ropes in middle age.
“I decided for myself that I wanted to jump pro at like 18, 19 years old and do what I can and get out of the sport at twenty-five,” Lara said. “And, it didn’t seem to work out like that.”
Lara blames himself for the trouble he got into, in 2003, and the self-imposed 16-month break from boxing that followed, which interrupted the momentum of what by all accounts was a very promising career.
Talks between Steward and Oscar De La Hoya’s Golden Boy Promotions were ongoing at that time and, Lara explained, a contract was dependent on his winning the November 22 fight with Rogelio Ramirez. Unfortunately, Lara saw his first professional defeat in the Los Angeles fight by unanimous decision after six rounds.
That fight came just days after his release from police custody following a drive-by shooting in which the 19-year old fighter was a passenger. Lara and several others were held at Detroit’s 4th precinct for four days but released without charges. The driver was charged and convicted – his formal arrest coming the day before Octavio’s L.A. fight – and is currently serving a life sentence in a Michigan prison.
Photo: sportssummary.com
Lara admits he was not prepared “physically or mentally” for the Ramirez battle as a result of injuring his hand two weeks before the scheduled fight and breaking from his training routine as his involvement in Detroit’s gang scene increased.
Lara speaks of the events that led up to the fatal shooting not with machismo or bravado, but with regret both in his mannerism and his voice. He speaks quieter, is less animated, and looks down more frequently than when discussing other aspects of his life.
The L.A. loss was the first of two for Lara, the second coming in a controversial split decision last November to Leo Martinez at The Palace. Opinions, amongst those who saw the fight, as to why Lara lost differ. Some said he was not prepared to fight a Mexican-style fighter while others believe his Columbus, Ohio opponent fought dirty – excessive holding and at least one head butt. As for Lara, he is less blameful, repeating Sunday what he said minutes after that November 4 fight. “If the ref didn’t see it, it’s not illegal.” And the referee didn’t see it.
“I tried to come back,” Lara explained, “and I didn’t see things working out.”
“He is very special to me.”
Emanuel Steward said of Octavio Lara.
Asked what Steward’s reaction was when told of his decision to quit boxing, Lara said the legendary trainer was supportive and repeated an earlier offer of financial help for Lara to attend college.
In a telephone interview from Little Rock, Arkansas, where he was holding a press conference with Jermain Taylor, Steward repeated his offer of financial assistance for college.
“I will pay for your school,” Steward said he told Lara on Tuesday night.
Steward said that he did have one concern with Lara’s plans for college, however.
“It’s too long (waiting until next year),” Steward said. “He needs to go back sooner.”
“He really got me involved again with the younger kids,” Steward said, crediting Lara with helping revive the Kronk Gym’s amateur boxing program, which he said had been dead for four years before a chubby, 7-year old Mexican kid named Octavio started coming to the Detroit gym. “He is very special to me,” Steward said of Lara.
The Future
Lara currently works at a downtown Detroit car dealership.
As for the future, Lara has plans to go to college – either Wayne State in Detroit or Henry Ford Community College in Dearborn – to study, among other things, business. He hopes, also, to remain involved in the sport by helping to train young amateurs and also keep them from making the same mistakes out-of-the-ring that he did
But, college is a few months away.
For the immediate future, Lara has agreed to try his ungloved hands at sports reporting and will cover the upcoming October 20 fight night at The Palace for SportsSummary.
IT'S BETTER WITH THE SOUND OFF
By Roger Esty
We talk about the past. So were they better fighters back then? Up and down the line,pound for pound,I think so. Oh,maybe football and baseball, and certainly basketball has transcended into a better game.
Boxing seems to me a sport that hasn't regressed, because if it did,it would be better. The guys today don't have the skills or the staying power of pugilists of 40 years ago. PacMan is a good one. That little guy Finito Lopez had the goods. But you won't run out of breath naming off all the good fighters of today.
Boxing has given way to other sports. The chances of making a living breaking the law with a lot of our youth that's trying to work their way up appears more rewarding. Boxing is too demanding. So if the option is playing a game, there are other sports to turn to. You can make good money and not get hit in the head.
Tonight I went to a friend's house to have a few drinks and enjoy a cigar. My friend is a sports nut. We went out back to his patio. I had a bottle of Sauza Reposado near and lit up a nicely blended "puro". He has a nice set up in the back with a big screen TV that you can watch while indulging.
ESPN had a pro basketball game on. My friend likes the XM station on the radio that plays the Sinatra tunes and others of similar genre. I asked him to turn the sound off the TV and turn on the radio station.
It's amazing what these pro basketball players can do. The guys on the flying trapeez aren't as acrobatic. While watching the players leap like Nijinsky and float like butterflies,pass and dribble with the slight of hand, and find the bottom of the basket like they had lasers in their shots,the music that resounded from the sound system seemed apropos.
The stylist songs and smoothe arrangements. The classic voices were a fit with the game. Heavy metal and rap would have paled in comparision. I was almost drunk enough to ask my friend to tune in the classical station,but that would have been asking too much.
Sinatra was enough and friends like him. Watching the players today with all their skills are a compliment to those songs of yester year. Like Frank was singing,"You Go To My Head." Yeh,I guess those basketball players do if I'm watching the game with the sound off.
We talk about the past. So were they better fighters back then? Up and down the line,pound for pound,I think so. Oh,maybe football and baseball, and certainly basketball has transcended into a better game.
Boxing seems to me a sport that hasn't regressed, because if it did,it would be better. The guys today don't have the skills or the staying power of pugilists of 40 years ago. PacMan is a good one. That little guy Finito Lopez had the goods. But you won't run out of breath naming off all the good fighters of today.
Boxing has given way to other sports. The chances of making a living breaking the law with a lot of our youth that's trying to work their way up appears more rewarding. Boxing is too demanding. So if the option is playing a game, there are other sports to turn to. You can make good money and not get hit in the head.
Tonight I went to a friend's house to have a few drinks and enjoy a cigar. My friend is a sports nut. We went out back to his patio. I had a bottle of Sauza Reposado near and lit up a nicely blended "puro". He has a nice set up in the back with a big screen TV that you can watch while indulging.
ESPN had a pro basketball game on. My friend likes the XM station on the radio that plays the Sinatra tunes and others of similar genre. I asked him to turn the sound off the TV and turn on the radio station.
It's amazing what these pro basketball players can do. The guys on the flying trapeez aren't as acrobatic. While watching the players leap like Nijinsky and float like butterflies,pass and dribble with the slight of hand, and find the bottom of the basket like they had lasers in their shots,the music that resounded from the sound system seemed apropos.
The stylist songs and smoothe arrangements. The classic voices were a fit with the game. Heavy metal and rap would have paled in comparision. I was almost drunk enough to ask my friend to tune in the classical station,but that would have been asking too much.
Sinatra was enough and friends like him. Watching the players today with all their skills are a compliment to those songs of yester year. Like Frank was singing,"You Go To My Head." Yeh,I guess those basketball players do if I'm watching the game with the sound off.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Full Report Latin Fury 8: Tijuana Thunder
By Felipe Leon
A festive crowd of over 18,000 fight fans, last night at he Plaza de Toros Monumental in the Playas suburb of Tijuana, Mexico, witnessed the son of legend Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. (39-0-1, 29 KOs) struggle to capture the WBC Latino super welterweight title, with a ten-round unanimous decision over the surprisingly enduring Luciano Cuello (23-1, 10 KOs) of La Plata, Argentina.
The ten-round title fight topped off the Top Rank-promoted “Latin Fury 8-Tijuana Thunder” card televised on Pay-Per-View.
Early in the first round, the Culiacan fighter began to land the family heirloom, the left hook to the body, throwing three-punch combos. The shorter Cuello, moving forward, landed his own set of hooks and short uppercuts when in close or when trapping Chavez against the ropes.
In the second, Cuello’s ribs began to get tenderized and red by the constant left hook to the body from Chavez. The pressure began to mount for Cuello as Chavez began to get in a rhythm of jab-right hand and then, left hook to the mid section. At times, Jr. would add a right one for good measure. Cuello confusingly began to stand there and take the punishment, only offering a sporadic power punch to the body himself.
Early in the third, Cuello had a moment as he trapped Chavez against the ropes and landed a series of punches. Chavez took the action to the middle of the ring again and landed a right hand that bloodied the nose of Cuello. The blood flowing from Cuello’s nose was almost as red as his right side of his torso from the constant body shots. Near the end of the round with his back to the corner, Chavez Jr. unleashed a left hook that wobbled Cuello and made the Argentinean utilize the shell defense. As Cuello felt that he was letting the fight slip away, he decided to exchange leather with Chavez Jr. until the end of the round to the delight of the pro-Chavez crowd.
In his best round yet, Cuello bloodied the nose of Chavez Jr. in the fourth with a series of stiff jabs that helped push his opponent against the ropes. With nowhere for Chavez to go, Cuello was able to go to work to the midsection of Chavez with hooks and short uppercuts, occasionally venturing with a right hand to Chavez’s face.
Chavez began to box in the fifth as Cuello continued to stalk him. Near the end of the round, Cuello threw a beautiful quick three-punch combination that although missing, caught Chavez’s attention. With his nose beaten to a bloody pulp, Cuello stepped up the pace in the sixth and continued to attack Chavez’s body with his own set of power left and right hooks. Chavez seemed to slow down considerably as he moved around the ring trying to avoid what was beginning to look like an unrelenting assault.
Chavez’s fatigue began to become apparent in the seventh round as Cuello kept coming forward. Chavez, instead of meeting him in the center of the ring like in the earlier rounds, backed away, circling the ring and trying to keep the charging Cuello at bay.
In the eighth, the crowd began to show their displeasure at the mounting lack of action inside the ring. As soon as the jeers diminished, Chavez answered in turn with a hard combination in the inside to Cuello’s chest and mid section. Chavez closed the round strong as Cuello’s nose kept gushing out blood.
A new Chavez came out for the ninth as he began to attack the body again with renewed zeal while Cuello tried to stay inside the punches and attack the body as well. With his father, the legendary Julio Cesar Chavez Sr., giving him instructions in between rounds, Chavez again attacked the body trying to slow down Cuello. Cuello took the attack and responded with one of his own landing counter right hands over the left hook.
The last round began to get into a pulse as Chavez assaulted the body with two or three hooks and then Cuello responded with straight punches to the face enough to win him the round.
The ebb continued until the final bell of the tenth and final round.
Official scores were Lou Filippo 96-94 and Bleas 96-95. It was originally announced that Monique Rendon had seen the bout 98-92, the score was later corrected to a closer 97-93.
Soto destroys Davis
As the sun set and the temperature dropped inside the seaside venue, the fireworks began inside the ring in the supporting bouts as Humberto “Zorrita” Soto (47-7-2, 30 KOs) defended for the first time his WBC super featherweight title with a fourth round TKO over the previously unstopped Antonio Davis (26-5, 13 KOs), of Atlanta, Ga.
A tentative Davis walked into very hostile territory as he met Soto in the first round very fearful of what was to come. Barely committing to his punches, Davis tried to land a jabs from too far a range, prompting him to dip his head low. Soto attacked quickly landing a straight right hand that wobbled Davis. Later in the round, Soto connected with a left hook to the top the head of Davis which dropped the shorter fighter to the canvas. Davis was able to beat the count before the end of the round.
In the second, Davis began to let his hands go and began to crowd Soto towards the ropes. Soto tried to regain his distance and throw fast and hard combinations that seem to hurt Davis enough to put him on shaky legs but not enough to drop.
In the third, Davis’ strategy comes to light as his intention was to crowd Soto enough so that the champion could not extend his punches tothe fullest, therefore minimizing his power. Soto began to seem frustrated as he was not able to give the zealous Mexican crowd want it wanted-a quick and impressive knock out.
The beginning of the fourth brought a jab contest for the first half of the round. That was all Soto needed to land a devastating right hand that diminished Davis into a heap on the canvas. Davis was able to get to his feet but only to meet another over hand right that sent him to the same destination.
The game Davis reached his feet again but only to be beaten by a flurry of punches that prompted referee Roberto Ramirez Jr. to step in between the fighters and wave off the bout.
Official time was 2:38 of the fourth round.
Montiel batters down Silva
Fernando “KOchulito” Montiel (39-2-1, 29 KOs) captured history as he became only the fourth Mexican fighter in history to earn three world titles in as many divisions by knocking out the overmatched Argentinean Diego Oscar Silva (24-2-3, 12 KOs), in the third round, to strap on the WBO bantamweight title around his waist.
The first round was uneventful as both fighters tried to find their range. Silva seemed the slight quicker at the two with his fists while Montiel was able to slip the majority of the punches thrown by the Argentinean.
In the second, Silva became more aggressive as he missed huge with a left hook. “KOchul” circled around effortlessly landing jabs at will. Midway thru the round, Montiel landed a crisp left hook to the nose of Silva that buckled the knees of Silva.
Near the end of the round, Montiel landed a devastating straight right hand that sent Silva smashing into the canvas. Silva beat the count and survived the stanza.
Montiel welcomed Silva to the third round with a bomb of a left hook that hurt Silva and sent him down to the canvas once again. Silva beat the count but looked worse for wear as he bled from the nose and mouth. Although Silva seemed to be ready to go, Montiel was patient as he bided his time for the opportunity to attack.
The time came soon enough as both fighters threw punches simultaneously, Montiel’s right uppercut got there quicker dismantling Silva to the canvas. Referee Raul Caiz Sr. didn’t bother to administer a count.
The time was 2:24 of the third round.
With the win, Montiel joins an elite group of Mexican champions that have won three world titles in as many divisions. Along with Montiel, Erik Morales, Marco Antonio Barrera and Julio Cesar Chavez Sr. have reached the milestone.
A festive crowd of over 18,000 fight fans, last night at he Plaza de Toros Monumental in the Playas suburb of Tijuana, Mexico, witnessed the son of legend Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. (39-0-1, 29 KOs) struggle to capture the WBC Latino super welterweight title, with a ten-round unanimous decision over the surprisingly enduring Luciano Cuello (23-1, 10 KOs) of La Plata, Argentina.
The ten-round title fight topped off the Top Rank-promoted “Latin Fury 8-Tijuana Thunder” card televised on Pay-Per-View.
Early in the first round, the Culiacan fighter began to land the family heirloom, the left hook to the body, throwing three-punch combos. The shorter Cuello, moving forward, landed his own set of hooks and short uppercuts when in close or when trapping Chavez against the ropes.
In the second, Cuello’s ribs began to get tenderized and red by the constant left hook to the body from Chavez. The pressure began to mount for Cuello as Chavez began to get in a rhythm of jab-right hand and then, left hook to the mid section. At times, Jr. would add a right one for good measure. Cuello confusingly began to stand there and take the punishment, only offering a sporadic power punch to the body himself.
Early in the third, Cuello had a moment as he trapped Chavez against the ropes and landed a series of punches. Chavez took the action to the middle of the ring again and landed a right hand that bloodied the nose of Cuello. The blood flowing from Cuello’s nose was almost as red as his right side of his torso from the constant body shots. Near the end of the round with his back to the corner, Chavez Jr. unleashed a left hook that wobbled Cuello and made the Argentinean utilize the shell defense. As Cuello felt that he was letting the fight slip away, he decided to exchange leather with Chavez Jr. until the end of the round to the delight of the pro-Chavez crowd.
In his best round yet, Cuello bloodied the nose of Chavez Jr. in the fourth with a series of stiff jabs that helped push his opponent against the ropes. With nowhere for Chavez to go, Cuello was able to go to work to the midsection of Chavez with hooks and short uppercuts, occasionally venturing with a right hand to Chavez’s face.
Chavez began to box in the fifth as Cuello continued to stalk him. Near the end of the round, Cuello threw a beautiful quick three-punch combination that although missing, caught Chavez’s attention. With his nose beaten to a bloody pulp, Cuello stepped up the pace in the sixth and continued to attack Chavez’s body with his own set of power left and right hooks. Chavez seemed to slow down considerably as he moved around the ring trying to avoid what was beginning to look like an unrelenting assault.
Chavez’s fatigue began to become apparent in the seventh round as Cuello kept coming forward. Chavez, instead of meeting him in the center of the ring like in the earlier rounds, backed away, circling the ring and trying to keep the charging Cuello at bay.
In the eighth, the crowd began to show their displeasure at the mounting lack of action inside the ring. As soon as the jeers diminished, Chavez answered in turn with a hard combination in the inside to Cuello’s chest and mid section. Chavez closed the round strong as Cuello’s nose kept gushing out blood.
A new Chavez came out for the ninth as he began to attack the body again with renewed zeal while Cuello tried to stay inside the punches and attack the body as well. With his father, the legendary Julio Cesar Chavez Sr., giving him instructions in between rounds, Chavez again attacked the body trying to slow down Cuello. Cuello took the attack and responded with one of his own landing counter right hands over the left hook.
The last round began to get into a pulse as Chavez assaulted the body with two or three hooks and then Cuello responded with straight punches to the face enough to win him the round.
The ebb continued until the final bell of the tenth and final round.
Official scores were Lou Filippo 96-94 and Bleas 96-95. It was originally announced that Monique Rendon had seen the bout 98-92, the score was later corrected to a closer 97-93.
Soto destroys Davis
As the sun set and the temperature dropped inside the seaside venue, the fireworks began inside the ring in the supporting bouts as Humberto “Zorrita” Soto (47-7-2, 30 KOs) defended for the first time his WBC super featherweight title with a fourth round TKO over the previously unstopped Antonio Davis (26-5, 13 KOs), of Atlanta, Ga.
A tentative Davis walked into very hostile territory as he met Soto in the first round very fearful of what was to come. Barely committing to his punches, Davis tried to land a jabs from too far a range, prompting him to dip his head low. Soto attacked quickly landing a straight right hand that wobbled Davis. Later in the round, Soto connected with a left hook to the top the head of Davis which dropped the shorter fighter to the canvas. Davis was able to beat the count before the end of the round.
In the second, Davis began to let his hands go and began to crowd Soto towards the ropes. Soto tried to regain his distance and throw fast and hard combinations that seem to hurt Davis enough to put him on shaky legs but not enough to drop.
In the third, Davis’ strategy comes to light as his intention was to crowd Soto enough so that the champion could not extend his punches tothe fullest, therefore minimizing his power. Soto began to seem frustrated as he was not able to give the zealous Mexican crowd want it wanted-a quick and impressive knock out.
The beginning of the fourth brought a jab contest for the first half of the round. That was all Soto needed to land a devastating right hand that diminished Davis into a heap on the canvas. Davis was able to get to his feet but only to meet another over hand right that sent him to the same destination.
The game Davis reached his feet again but only to be beaten by a flurry of punches that prompted referee Roberto Ramirez Jr. to step in between the fighters and wave off the bout.
Official time was 2:38 of the fourth round.
Montiel batters down Silva
Fernando “KOchulito” Montiel (39-2-1, 29 KOs) captured history as he became only the fourth Mexican fighter in history to earn three world titles in as many divisions by knocking out the overmatched Argentinean Diego Oscar Silva (24-2-3, 12 KOs), in the third round, to strap on the WBO bantamweight title around his waist.
The first round was uneventful as both fighters tried to find their range. Silva seemed the slight quicker at the two with his fists while Montiel was able to slip the majority of the punches thrown by the Argentinean.
In the second, Silva became more aggressive as he missed huge with a left hook. “KOchul” circled around effortlessly landing jabs at will. Midway thru the round, Montiel landed a crisp left hook to the nose of Silva that buckled the knees of Silva.
Near the end of the round, Montiel landed a devastating straight right hand that sent Silva smashing into the canvas. Silva beat the count and survived the stanza.
Montiel welcomed Silva to the third round with a bomb of a left hook that hurt Silva and sent him down to the canvas once again. Silva beat the count but looked worse for wear as he bled from the nose and mouth. Although Silva seemed to be ready to go, Montiel was patient as he bided his time for the opportunity to attack.
The time came soon enough as both fighters threw punches simultaneously, Montiel’s right uppercut got there quicker dismantling Silva to the canvas. Referee Raul Caiz Sr. didn’t bother to administer a count.
The time was 2:24 of the third round.
With the win, Montiel joins an elite group of Mexican champions that have won three world titles in as many divisions. Along with Montiel, Erik Morales, Marco Antonio Barrera and Julio Cesar Chavez Sr. have reached the milestone.
I REMEMBER ANTONIO
By Roger Esty
Many years ago Antonio Aguilar came to San Diego to perform with his family and his rodeo at the Sprts Arena. His sons Pepe and Tony Jr. were still very young. Mrs. Aguilar,the beautifull and talented Flor Silvestre,and their children rode out together on magnificant horses. They were singing and the horses were prancing and moving like aquestrian dancers. The rodeo was exciting with horsemen from Jalisco riding and ropng . Behind them all were the mariachis.
Featured was Antonio riding center arena singing and putting his horse through the paces. It was like animal and man were one. Suddenly some guy staggered out with a drink to the dirt covered floor. I guess he wanted to sing or give Antonio the drink. Who knows? Before he could get close,Antonio's life long compadre,Chelelo,ran out and tackled this guy.
Then I'll never forget what happened. Antonio Aguilar became furious with his friend. In Spanish he scolded Chelelo saying all the guy wanted to do was sing with him. Antonio got off his horse and gave Chelelo a kick in the seat of his pants.
Chelelo wept. His head down.
"Largate"(go away),said Antonio.
As I went to the living room to eat the nopales,my wife was watching a movie with Antonio Aguilar. He's at a table in the cantina singing with his compadre,Chelelo. I could taste the tears on my burrito.
Many years ago Antonio Aguilar came to San Diego to perform with his family and his rodeo at the Sprts Arena. His sons Pepe and Tony Jr. were still very young. Mrs. Aguilar,the beautifull and talented Flor Silvestre,and their children rode out together on magnificant horses. They were singing and the horses were prancing and moving like aquestrian dancers. The rodeo was exciting with horsemen from Jalisco riding and ropng . Behind them all were the mariachis.
Featured was Antonio riding center arena singing and putting his horse through the paces. It was like animal and man were one. Suddenly some guy staggered out with a drink to the dirt covered floor. I guess he wanted to sing or give Antonio the drink. Who knows? Before he could get close,Antonio's life long compadre,Chelelo,ran out and tackled this guy.
Then I'll never forget what happened. Antonio Aguilar became furious with his friend. In Spanish he scolded Chelelo saying all the guy wanted to do was sing with him. Antonio got off his horse and gave Chelelo a kick in the seat of his pants.
Chelelo wept. His head down.
"Largate"(go away),said Antonio.
As I went to the living room to eat the nopales,my wife was watching a movie with Antonio Aguilar. He's at a table in the cantina singing with his compadre,Chelelo. I could taste the tears on my burrito.
Thunder . . .
By Rick Farris
Steve Harpst has a great boxing program going on in Burbank. A state-of-the-art boxer training facility, located on the top floor of the Burbank YMCA. Members can learn to box, experience the best cardio-burn workout in the Valley, and, for some . . . compete in amateur boxing matches.
I'm easily bored, and with film production limited to TV pilots, I'm awaiting a commercial location for a couple weeks next month. I've decided I need to teach somebody how to box. Somebody who really wants to know how. Not just anybody, but somebody who will listen and try. I don't care if they have a fight, or just want to learn. I need to teach somebody from scratch. It's good to stay in practice. You forget what was once so automatic. I need to show somebody how to stand, move, balance, how to JAB! All that, you know. IT's about keeping myself sharp, re-teaching myself, in touch with reality.
Steve comes up to me at the beginning of his class. He's got a kid in his early 20's standing beside him. The kid was about 5'5" and easily 200 pounds. Fat? Maybe a little, but more stocky of build. He looked Armenian, and had one of those short, but powerfully wide statures. You know, the guys who must power their way in and punch inside. He might have had a few unnecessary pounds, but I think he's got the frame to carry most of it. We were introduced and Steve asked me if I'd mind working with, "Thunder". Me mind? That was why I was there.
We shook hands and I got to know him in a way that a teacher must know a student. He had done some wrestling, which isn't a bad thing in this case. I'm not going to teach this man to "float like a butterfly", but he will learn how to box, and hold his hands, and move his head, and how to punch to the body and head, and jab in a way that can out-score a taller man's jab, distancing.
After we worked pads, and I had him punch to see what he did and didn't know, I had a good feeling. He pursued me to work with him, and of course I will. This kid is responsible, owns his own taxi cab, seems reliable. I'm going to have fun with this one.
If he ever were to have a boxing match, or street fight for that matter, he'd surely be the shortest in the contest. But he has a great chance. I'll let you know when we get to the "boxing" phase of training. In a few days, I'm going to toss him in with a bigger heavyweight, and have him box. The big guy knows how to work, and will be a perfect test.
I'll kep you posted on "Thunder"
Steve Harpst has a great boxing program going on in Burbank. A state-of-the-art boxer training facility, located on the top floor of the Burbank YMCA. Members can learn to box, experience the best cardio-burn workout in the Valley, and, for some . . . compete in amateur boxing matches.
I'm easily bored, and with film production limited to TV pilots, I'm awaiting a commercial location for a couple weeks next month. I've decided I need to teach somebody how to box. Somebody who really wants to know how. Not just anybody, but somebody who will listen and try. I don't care if they have a fight, or just want to learn. I need to teach somebody from scratch. It's good to stay in practice. You forget what was once so automatic. I need to show somebody how to stand, move, balance, how to JAB! All that, you know. IT's about keeping myself sharp, re-teaching myself, in touch with reality.
Steve comes up to me at the beginning of his class. He's got a kid in his early 20's standing beside him. The kid was about 5'5" and easily 200 pounds. Fat? Maybe a little, but more stocky of build. He looked Armenian, and had one of those short, but powerfully wide statures. You know, the guys who must power their way in and punch inside. He might have had a few unnecessary pounds, but I think he's got the frame to carry most of it. We were introduced and Steve asked me if I'd mind working with, "Thunder". Me mind? That was why I was there.
We shook hands and I got to know him in a way that a teacher must know a student. He had done some wrestling, which isn't a bad thing in this case. I'm not going to teach this man to "float like a butterfly", but he will learn how to box, and hold his hands, and move his head, and how to punch to the body and head, and jab in a way that can out-score a taller man's jab, distancing.
After we worked pads, and I had him punch to see what he did and didn't know, I had a good feeling. He pursued me to work with him, and of course I will. This kid is responsible, owns his own taxi cab, seems reliable. I'm going to have fun with this one.
If he ever were to have a boxing match, or street fight for that matter, he'd surely be the shortest in the contest. But he has a great chance. I'll let you know when we get to the "boxing" phase of training. In a few days, I'm going to toss him in with a bigger heavyweight, and have him box. The big guy knows how to work, and will be a perfect test.
I'll kep you posted on "Thunder"
Saturday, March 28, 2009
James Ellroy details his search for love in Playboy
The crime fiction writer says his mother's unsolved murder led him on a quest for the perfect woman.
By Scott Timberg
It's the kind of house Hancock Park is famous for: unemphatic but impressive, with a perfect lawn, fresh coat of paint and ivy crawling up the walls. By Los Angeles standards, this is old-school cool. ¶ James Ellroy, all 6 feet 3 of him, is stomping across that manicured lawn, sporting a Hawaiian shirt and golfer's cap and pretending to walk a nonexistent dog. He mimics staring into the window, then simulates masturbating to what he sees inside. ¶ "Just like that," he offers. ¶ This was how the writer, then a gangly teenager living off inhalers and stolen booze and dreaming of literary greatness, spent his youth. Or at least that's the story he's telling today. ¶ Ellroy often behaves as if he's on camera -- offering off-color anecdotes, barking like a dog and generally acting out. But today he actually is: He's walking around this old-money neighborhood (and, the day after, through the city of El Monte) with a video crew from Playboy. ¶ They're shooting a documentary to accompany "The Hilliker Curse," a four-part serial he's writing for the magazine about his relationships with women. The first installment appears in the April issue, which has just hit the stands. The video, meanwhile, will appear at Playboy.com to launch a "Walkabout" series with important writers. ¶ The "L.A. Confidential" author later says he never masturbated on neighbors' lawns -- "That was just hyperbole!" -- but he was a dedicated peeper and self-described "perv" during his teenage years.
"I have been inside that house, illegally, on numerous occasions," Ellroy says proudly, pointing to a handsome Spanish Colonial near the intersection of 2nd Street and Plymouth Boulevard.
He's stolen pills, underwear, a turkey breast and "a five spot" from this place he still thinks of as "Cathy Montgomery's house." All this despite the fact that security signs started to appear on well-tended L.A. lawns in the summer of 1969, thanks to the Manson family.
Ellroy has covered this ground before. In 1996, he published "My Dark Places," a memoir that even those skeptical of his overheated crime novels consider a literary accomplishment. With that book, he revisited his mother's unsolved murder in El Monte -- in 1958, when he was 10 -- as well as his lost years as a peeper, binge drinker and neo-Nazi in Los Angeles.
Much of the book concerned his search, with a Los Angeles County sheriff's homicide detective, for his mother's killer.
"That was a great book," Ellroy declares unapologetically, "but it's largely a crime book. This is a love story."
Of course, not quite a conventional love story.
"I'm always," he says, head hanging like an abashed 12-year-old's, "looking for love."
"The Hilliker Curse" -- Hilliker was his mother's maiden name -- appears as Playboy is, like most print publications, going through strange times.
Declining circulation (about half its 1970s peak) is a worry, but not as much as the sense that, like founder Hugh Hefner -- who recently starting charging for parties at the Playboy mansion -- the magazine no longer reflects its time.
"Hefner's aura of Gatsby-esque sophistication is ever more at odds with his advancing years, and a changing world," London's the Independent judged in October. Plummeting stock prices, the recent resignation of his daughter, Chief Executive Christie Hefner, and a rumor, since denied by Playboy, that the company might be for sale, haven't helped.
It's also a period of transition for Ellroy. His celebrated "L.A. Quartet" of novels -- "The Black Dahlia," "The Big Nowhere," "L.A. Confidential" and "White Jazz" -- published in six years. But it's been eight years since his last novel, "The Cold Six Thousand."
Such a drought will end this fall with the publication of "Blood's a Rover," which completes the "American Underworld Trilogy" begun with "The Cold Six Thousand" and "American Tabloid." It also marks what the author calls his farewell to "the autobiographical elements," although it's not clear where he'll go next.
"This is the end of Act 2 of my career," he says of the trilogy and his Playboy project.
Besides the enormous success of Curtis Hanson's "L.A. Confidential," films of Ellroy's books have not worked out. Still, he remains a powerful writer, especially for fans of a style that mixes the minimalism native to the hard-boiled tradition with his own maximalist overkill.
"The Hilliker Curse" has the mix of hyped-up prose and rapid storytelling that readers expect from Ellroy's novels, blended with a reflective quality he's rarely shown in the past.
Whereas the first installment revisits his childhood, the unsolved murder and his teenage peeping, ensuing chapters look at how his mother's death drove him to search for the perfect woman, to seek out both prostitutes and (fruitlessly) women of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, to pass notes with his phone number in coffee shops, to send literally thousands of dollars in flowers.
Now 61, he is, he says, in "an erotic frenzy." ("James Ellroy: Why I Chase Women," Playboy's April cover boasts.)
Amy Grace Loyd -- the literary editor who scored a coup by bringing National Book Award-winning novelist Denis Johnson to Playboy last year with a serial novel -- calls Ellroy "a good fit" for the magazine.
"One of the things about Playboy," Loyd says, "is that it's always been a marriage of high and low. Ellroy has innovated genre fiction into something more sophisticated, but he's also driven by appetite, driven by urges."
Loyd is with Ellroy in Hancock Park, following as he leads the video crew past a row of houses that goes from Spanish revival to mock Tudor to Florentine in the space of half of a block. She playfully pulls her Egyptian cotton shawl over her head each time he goes too far.
Walking down 2nd Street, Ellroy waxes rhapsodic: "Girls in sherbet-colored gowns going to cotillions, Marlborough girls in uniforms. . . ."
As for his current taste in women, he says, "I want rectitude, brain power and passion."
But: "Quite often I take what I can get."
'Spiritual document'
A few days later, Ellroy is talking again, this time in the Rossmore Avenue Art Deco-era condo where he has lived since 2006. The place is decorated with framed Deutsche Grammophon records, black-and-white photos of 1940s and 1950s Los Angeles and dozens of copies of his books. He's an exemplar not just of romanticism, he says, but of the "symphonic romanticism" he learned from Beethoven and Bruckner.
"The Hilliker Curse," he believes, is "a spiritual document. There's never been a male memoir like this one. It was the desire to consistently update my state of mind and spiritual condition pertaining to women. To honor the women I've been with, to chart this journey of transcendence."
He discusses the three great loves of his life -- ex-wife Helen Knode and two other women he prefers not to name -- and describes the evenings he spends stretched out on his couch, speaking to them in his mind.
And yet, he claims, he's no longer exorcising a demon, as with "My Dark Places," but exploring his obsessive soul.
"I'm made for obsessiveness," Ellroy says. "I'm built for it. I'm big and skinny, and I run at a high rev. I love to be alone most of the time. I'm emotionally hungry, I'm horny, I have a profound conscience. I have never messed around with a cheesy woman."
Will "The Hilliker Curse" destroy his tough-guy image?
It may, he says, but "only with a bunch of authenticity-seeking young men. You know how men seek authenticity through the most specious and vile male human beings?
"Thinking artists like Charles Bukowski and Hunter S. Thompson are authentic. Au contraire. It's puerile. Real guys love God, Beethoven and women."
calendar@latimes.com
Friday, March 27, 2009
GO FIGURE
By Roger Esty
I felt a tap on my shoulder as I was watching some of the kids workout. Hitting bags,shadow boxing.I looked around and see this old guy squinting at me. Right off the bat I knew he's Mexican.
"So who are you?",he asked still looking at me up and down.
"I sent a kid here who was interested in being a boxer."
I was trying to put him at ease. Why he was a little uptight,I couldn't figure.
"So where are you from?",he asked still not opening up his eyes all the way.
"I'm a school teacher in the South Bay. One of my students I sent over here. He was supposed to meet me here at this time."
"No student came in here,"he said shaking his head.
"He might be runnin' a little late."
I could see the old guy didn't trust me.
"While I'm waiting,do you mind if I take some pictures. I write for the BoxRec Forum. I talked to a fella a while back named Carlos. I took some shots of him. Want to give you guys some free publicity."
"Carlos is my son",said the old guy fronting me like he wanted me out the door.
"Yeh,I talked to him about three weeks ago."
"You have to talk to him now",he said.
"Is he coming in?"
"No. He went home sick."
"Ok if I take some pictures of the kids training?"
I noticed that the two trainers working with the kids couldn't have much into their 20's.
"No way. "
I could see the old man was starting to get frustrated.
"Well maybe some other time. I'll wait a little longer for my student to show."
"He hasn't been here. You need to come back when my son is here."
Now I wanted to exit. No warmth exuding from this sour face.
I waited out at the corner for 15 minutes. The kid never arrived. I walked across the street to my car. I must have arrived under a bad sign. Vibes were all wrong. On top of it all,I can't stand an old guy that has no wisdom.
I felt a tap on my shoulder as I was watching some of the kids workout. Hitting bags,shadow boxing.I looked around and see this old guy squinting at me. Right off the bat I knew he's Mexican.
"So who are you?",he asked still looking at me up and down.
"I sent a kid here who was interested in being a boxer."
I was trying to put him at ease. Why he was a little uptight,I couldn't figure.
"So where are you from?",he asked still not opening up his eyes all the way.
"I'm a school teacher in the South Bay. One of my students I sent over here. He was supposed to meet me here at this time."
"No student came in here,"he said shaking his head.
"He might be runnin' a little late."
I could see the old guy didn't trust me.
"While I'm waiting,do you mind if I take some pictures. I write for the BoxRec Forum. I talked to a fella a while back named Carlos. I took some shots of him. Want to give you guys some free publicity."
"Carlos is my son",said the old guy fronting me like he wanted me out the door.
"Yeh,I talked to him about three weeks ago."
"You have to talk to him now",he said.
"Is he coming in?"
"No. He went home sick."
"Ok if I take some pictures of the kids training?"
I noticed that the two trainers working with the kids couldn't have much into their 20's.
"No way. "
I could see the old man was starting to get frustrated.
"Well maybe some other time. I'll wait a little longer for my student to show."
"He hasn't been here. You need to come back when my son is here."
Now I wanted to exit. No warmth exuding from this sour face.
I waited out at the corner for 15 minutes. The kid never arrived. I walked across the street to my car. I must have arrived under a bad sign. Vibes were all wrong. On top of it all,I can't stand an old guy that has no wisdom.
The Great Promoters/Matchmakers . . .
By Rick Farris
I've been unable to compare contemporary boxers and trainers with those of the past, however, the problem is far deeper. It's not just the talent in the ring, but those who showcase the talent. Let's play, "what if". What if we had Manuel Ortiz and Ruben Olivares around today (two all-time great bantams from different eras, both showcased by great promoters), what made them and other greats so good? Besides the trainers, conditioning and natural talent, these guys honed their skills by staying busy. They didn't just fight once or twice a year. When they weren't defending titles they were involved non-title fights. They didn't just train themselves into condition, they "fought" themselves into shape.
It's human nature to be better at thngs that we do often. A fighter is best off when fighting in the ring in front of an audience, which is much different than gym wars. Guys get title fights today that would not have qualified for a non-title match in other eras. Look at the records of past champs, and I'm not even speaking of guys like Armstrong, who defended his welter title 18 times in two years while also holding the featherweight title, and for awhile the lightweight title as well. Besides title fights in three divisions he fought top rate contenders in non-title bouts. Checkout the records of Olivares, Napoles, Carlos Ortiz, just to name a few off the top of my head.
What promoter today is going to risk losing a box-office draw by matching him with somebody who might win? And in the old days, some of these great champs would drop a decision or come up short in a non-title fight. It goes back to the reality that nobody is great 365 days a year. So what? The cream will always rise to the top. And besides, what is more boring than a guy who cannot be beat? A guy scores an upset in a non-title match, and then you have a great excuse to make a title match. When done properly, it's been proven that boxing can take care of itself, but only with the help of brilliant promoters/matchmakers.
While guys like Hap Navarro made it easy for a fan to fork over the cost of a ticket, knowing that they would see a great show complete with great matches, a celebrity audience and a feeling that somebody went out of their way to entertain them. Today, it is not unusual for a boxing audience to feel "strangled" by a weak undercard, and a good chance the main event will be a bore as well. No wonder young fans aren't catching on to the world of boxing, and seeking excitement from the MMA, etc.
To fix boxing, you need not just fix the talent of the boxers and teachers, but the guys who will put them in matches. I truly believe that without the great promoters/matchmakers, boxing would have died long ago. With a majority of today's boxer's weak in talent, and promoters not understanding how to please a crowd, the sport is in a desperate condition.
Boxing has always survived it's challenges, but it always had talent to rely on. Today, we are at a loss on fronts.
My opinion, of course.
I've been unable to compare contemporary boxers and trainers with those of the past, however, the problem is far deeper. It's not just the talent in the ring, but those who showcase the talent. Let's play, "what if". What if we had Manuel Ortiz and Ruben Olivares around today (two all-time great bantams from different eras, both showcased by great promoters), what made them and other greats so good? Besides the trainers, conditioning and natural talent, these guys honed their skills by staying busy. They didn't just fight once or twice a year. When they weren't defending titles they were involved non-title fights. They didn't just train themselves into condition, they "fought" themselves into shape.
It's human nature to be better at thngs that we do often. A fighter is best off when fighting in the ring in front of an audience, which is much different than gym wars. Guys get title fights today that would not have qualified for a non-title match in other eras. Look at the records of past champs, and I'm not even speaking of guys like Armstrong, who defended his welter title 18 times in two years while also holding the featherweight title, and for awhile the lightweight title as well. Besides title fights in three divisions he fought top rate contenders in non-title bouts. Checkout the records of Olivares, Napoles, Carlos Ortiz, just to name a few off the top of my head.
What promoter today is going to risk losing a box-office draw by matching him with somebody who might win? And in the old days, some of these great champs would drop a decision or come up short in a non-title fight. It goes back to the reality that nobody is great 365 days a year. So what? The cream will always rise to the top. And besides, what is more boring than a guy who cannot be beat? A guy scores an upset in a non-title match, and then you have a great excuse to make a title match. When done properly, it's been proven that boxing can take care of itself, but only with the help of brilliant promoters/matchmakers.
While guys like Hap Navarro made it easy for a fan to fork over the cost of a ticket, knowing that they would see a great show complete with great matches, a celebrity audience and a feeling that somebody went out of their way to entertain them. Today, it is not unusual for a boxing audience to feel "strangled" by a weak undercard, and a good chance the main event will be a bore as well. No wonder young fans aren't catching on to the world of boxing, and seeking excitement from the MMA, etc.
To fix boxing, you need not just fix the talent of the boxers and teachers, but the guys who will put them in matches. I truly believe that without the great promoters/matchmakers, boxing would have died long ago. With a majority of today's boxer's weak in talent, and promoters not understanding how to please a crowd, the sport is in a desperate condition.
Boxing has always survived it's challenges, but it always had talent to rely on. Today, we are at a loss on fronts.
My opinion, of course.
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