Mike Nixon, Jerry Quarry, Chris & Sean Penn . . .

By Rick Farris

With all respect to Jim Amato, Mike's KO loss in his pro debut wasn't to a "Larry Davis", he was KOed by George Davis in his pro debut, the same guy who would KO him later, after he'd made a name for himself. He was also KOed twice by Art Davis. Seems Mike had trouble with opponents named Davis, but never a Larry Davis.

I knew Mike both professionally and personally back in the early 70's. He and I weren't close friends, just a couple stablemates with a personal connection with the Quarry family. Mike was a little too cocky for my taste, but I credit him for being a fine boxer with a good punch, not championship material, but a good main eventer. He was good enough to end the winning streak of Mike Rossman, and would lose in a rematch for money. Mike Nixon owed money to the wrong people in Binghampton, N.Y. his hometown. To satisfy the debt, he took a dive in the rematch. The Jewish money was behind Rossman, who was of Italian/Jewish descent. Nixon was not a great middleweight, but he was clearly better than Mike Rossman.

Later, Mike Quarry, Nixon's brother-in-law would also defeat Rossman easily. When strapped for money, Mike Quarry did the same thing with the same opponent, in fact, Nixon introduced Quarry the "people" that set up the rematch. Mike Quarry would never just "lay down", he let Rossman batter him. Mike Quarry's dementia was apparent long before brother Jerry's, and one of the contributing factors was not only his brutal KO loss to light-heavy champ, Bob Foster, but also his choice to take a beating before the Rossman fight was stopped.

Mike Rossman could punch, and Nixon's chin was weak, but without "help", he would have never been a champion. Victor Galendez came along and finally showed the world what Rossman could do with a real fighter, not much.

I last spoke with Mike Nixon in the sumer of 1992. At the time we were both living on the beach in Malibu. I had an apartment on the sand a few hundred yards south of the Malibu Pier. One saturday, a friend and I are walking thru my favorite beachfront watering hole, the Pierview Cantina, when I feel a hand grab my arm. I turn to face the guy who grabbed me. I see a heavy set guy with curly silver hair in front of me. "What's your name?", he asks. "Who wants to know?" I ask, as I pull my arm away from the guy. The man smiles, are you, "Ricky Farris"? I can't recognize him. I study the face and say nothing. The man extends his right hand to shake mine, "Mike Nixon, remember me?" At the time, Mike was weighing in at 225 lbs, and as I mentioned, his hair was no longer dark. I hadn't seen Mike in more than a dozen years and he hadn't aged well. We were both 40, but he looked in his 50's.

At the time, Nixon was living with the late actor, Chris Penn, Sean's younger brother, in the home of Penn's father, TV director Leo Penn. The Penn home was up the beach a few miles on Point Dume Rd. Christopher Penn was a good guy, but a troubled one who struggled with cocaine addiction. Penn had an interest in boxing and martial arts and hired Mike to be his "personal trainer", hoping that training as a boxer might divert him from drug abuse. Fifteen years later, Chris would die of an overdose.

Mike invited me to join he and Chris at their table out on the deck. I was with my friend, Ralph, whose son was playing on the beach with my young daughters. We could see the kids playing from Mike and Chris's table so we joined them. It turned out to be a nice reunion. As Nixon and I remenisced about our late manager, Mel Epstein, Chris and my buddy Ralph just sat quietly and listened. We discussed the Rossman fight, His last with Vito Antifermo, the Davis losses, his break-up with Quarry sister, Wilma, his father Don, my dad, and a recent golf game he had shared with his former brother-in-law, Jerry Quarry.

Mike told me of meeting Jerry on a golf course in Agoura Hills, near where Jerry was living at the time. I asked how Jerry was doing and Nixon rubbed his jaw subconciously as he answered, "Well, he's still got his punch." It seems that the two had joined another pair of golfers in foursome on the course. The other two men were boxing fans and were buying drinks for the ex-fighters as the two shared stories of their careers. Nixon said he got angry that Jerry kept putting down his career and finally challeneged him, "Hey, how would you like to get knocked out by a middleweight?" Jerry turned to face his brother-in-law and attempted to grab him, Nixon fired a right cross and caught Jerry right on the chin. Quarry went down for a second, and when he got up it was his turn. Minutes later, Nixon was in an ambulence headed for the hospital. Just another day in the life of the Quarry familiy.

Chris told me that Sean was writing a script for a boxing movie, but was having trouble in his marriage to Madonna. "My brother is crazy, but that bitch is insane", Chris commented about his rock star sister-in-law. I didn't mention to Chris that I had picked up his brother Sean, who was hitchhiking on Pacific Coast Highway early one morning.

I was on my way to work at MGM, and recognized Penn with his thumb out. The future Academy Award winner has lost hid driver's license on a drunk driving charge. Why he didn't call a cab, I don't know? But he was hitch hiking. Artisits understand, but outsiders would think it's crazy.

I had worked with Sean on several pictures, "Taps" in Philadelphia when he was a kid, a loser called "Crackers" with Donald Sutherland in '82, and "Falcon and the Snowman". We weren't friends, but he knew who I was, he'd seen me around. He saw training gloves in my backseat, and had told me of his boxing script. When he learned I had boxed he began to pick my brain. I always liked the guy. I understand crazy.

I dropped him up the street from MGM, at the Culver Studios lot, where he had a meeting.

As I sat on the deck with Mike Nixon, Ralph, and Chris Penn, Nixon began to talk of his bout with Antofermo. I was sitting next to Mike and he began to tap my leg as he told the story. I grab his hand and he looks at me with that stupid grin on his face, that cocky Irish thing, I was now playing with an off-shoot of the Quarry family. I grew up with the Quarry family and I knew there was only one way to make my point with Mike, so I ask him . . .

"Hey Nixon . . . How would you like to be knocked out by a lightweight?"

Mike Nixon smiled, pulled his hand away, and nodded.
Mike understands crazy.