"Louie J."

By Rick Farris

The first time I saw Louie J. was on television, from the Olympic Auditorium.
He was working the corner of a bantamweight, appearing in one of two amateur bouts proceeding the professional card.
His fighter's name was Victor "Butch" Contreras, and the cornerman had "Teamsters Gym" embroidered on the back of his white button-down shirt.

He was stocky, about fifty-years-old when I first met him, had a powerful build, not tall, but soild.
He was balding, wore glasses. He had a big smile, and a deep voice.
He co-founded the Los Angeles Jr. Golden Gloves program, along with Johnny Flores, after WW2.
He had been a boxer, and for decades a leader in Southern California amateur boxing.
Several of his better amateurs went to the top as pros, such as Armando Muniz and Frankie Duarte, and dozen's more whom he worked with.

Over the years I fought a number of boxers from the Teamster's Gym.
Louie knew who I was, and when I was 17, I was starting to grow and get strong. I was getting better, too.
In 1969, during the summer, I'm 17 and fight one of the Teamster's 23-year-old bantams, I weigh about 114lbs.
His name is Gabe Gutierrez and he's a pretty good fighter. We fight at the Olympic on a thursday night pro card, July 1969.
We have a close one, he get's the nod.

Three months later we fight again, this time at the China Lake Naval base.
I'm weighing about 117, and have two KO wins since our fight in July.
Louie knows I'm going to be a problem for his fighter. So do I.

We all meet somewhere downtown, I forget where. We load into a nice charter bus that will take boxers, coaches, etc. up into the high desert.
China Lake is above Edwards Air Force base, and Marty Denkin had a connection that allowed him to promote up there.
Over three months, Marty held two cards at the China Lake. This was the first.

We load into the bus and I park myself in a window seat. Plenty of room to stretch out a bit, get some rest during the ride.
My opponent was seated about three rows behind me, and his coach, Jouie J., beside him.
The bus starts to pull away and all of a sudden I feel this body slide into the seat next to mine.
It's Louie.

As I close my eyes to take a nap, Louie wakes me to tell me a joke. And another one, then gives me the history of L.A. Jr. Golden Gloves.
I know what he's doing. He talks the entire trip.
When I arrive, I am ready to fight. I didn't really need the nap, and the coach really screwed his fighter by trying to be smart.
My frame of mind had never been better for a fight.

I got no rest on my trip, but that didn't work out in Gabe Gutierrez's best interest. I kicked his ass pretty bad.
After the fight, I thanked Louie. I told him if it wasn't for his motivation on the bus, I wouldn't have beaten his fighter so easily.
By the way, Gabe Gutierrez and I would fight six times. Three in the amateurs and three in the pros.
After the first bout, Louie could not help him.

Last time I saw Louie across the ring from me was in 1972. I was training at Teamster's for a week, boxing with Armando Muniz for speed.
Louie and Mel Epstein would visit. He'd laugh out loud and say, "I known Ricky since he was a kid . . ."
I said to Louie, "Hey, remember that ride on the bus we took up to China Lake? You talked all the way up and then I kicked your fighter's ass."

Louie says, "Oh yeah".
We both laughed