By Felipe Leon
In the time that I have been running around in boxing circles, I have met my fair share of fighters. From “opponents” to up and coming prospects, to retired legends of old to elite boxers to world champions.
I can say with certainty that none of them are more cordial and generous than the man they call “Perro”, up and coming super welterweight Alfredo Angulo.
The first time I met Angulo, It was nearly a year ago at the place where every man wished they could go but many never will, the Playboy Mansion.
ESPN’s Wednesday Night Fights broadcast the return of Julio Diaz to the ring after being demolished at the end of 2007 by Juan Diaz. This time, Diaz easily defeated little known David Torres in the main event.
To reach the Playboy Mansion, all press and invitees needed to meet at a Beverly Hills hotel and then be shuttled to the house that Hef built. There I met for the first time the former Olympian from Mexico.
We broke the ice by talking about mutual friends from Tijuana and then moved on to telling jokes. Good thing Angulo can throw an excellent left hook because he is no threat for George Lopez. He is possibly the worst joke teller in the history of comedy and to refresh your memory, comedy goes back to the days of the greek philosophers.
Once at the Mansion, we went our separate ways, I to cover the fights and he to attend to the many fans who wanted to take their photo with the relentless puncher. Near the end of the night we bumped into each other again and he inquired what I was going to do with the rest of my night. Since I was in the mood to paint the town red (which is not often for those who know me) he graciously invited me to continue the night with him and the group which he had made plans with.
This is where things get interesting.
In the pursuit of keeping my nose where it is instead of another side of my head which would surely happen if I disclosed who else was part of the party, all I am going to reveal is that it was another L.A. based fighter, his manager and trainer, a HBO executive and his friend and yours truly.
By this time, the other unnamed fighter was way on his way to being in layman terms, ripped, along with the rest of his corner while Angulo had not touched a drop of alcohol and wouldn’t the rest of the night while I hadn’t enjoyed a mixed drink since I tend not to while I cover a fight card.
We made our way to a Hollywood club that is owned by a well known young actor and were welcomed as VIP and treated as such for the rest of the night.
As the well oiled fighter and his crew continued to enjoy themselves for the rest of the night with drinks, dancing and dames, “Perro” and I enjoyed the scenery while Angulo drank juice and I the same-except mine had an extra “kick”.
As we stumbled out of the establishment at 2 am, it suddenly occurred to me that I had to drive back to San Diego that night. As I shared this with the group, it took about a tenth of a nanosecond for Angulo to offer his humble abode to me, a person he had just met a mere 2-3 pineapple juices ago.
I hesitated to accept as I deliberated whether I would be breaking any writer-fighter ethical codes but I quickly imagined my drive back without any sleep so I rapidly accepted.
Before we bedded down for the night, we enjoyed that time honored tradition of party people everywhere: the late night Mexican food run.
As we devoured a dinner of too much salsa coupled with way too much cheese, we spoke of recently passed fights and upcoming ones that we were looking forward too.
Once at his one room apartment located behind a regular sized house in a suburb of Los Angeles, I went to use the restroom.
When I exited, Angulo was preparing a bedding on the floor that I was sure was for me since I knew that Angulo, ever the gym rat, was surely going to train the next day whose daybreak was a mere couple of hours away.
Much to my surprise, he proceeded to lay down on the floor himself among the scattered boxing equipment and tennis shoes as he offered me the ample bed pushed against a wall.
I immediately refused but when a professional fighter who at that time was riding a nine KO streak and has scored two more since then insists, you comply.
So I slept on the bed.
Four hours later my alarm went off and I began my short two hour trek back to San Diego.
The whole time I spent with Angulo, he made me feel like we had known each other for years and never did he put up the wall that many fighters do when they know that they are dealing with a member of the press.
Since then, I have bumped into Angulo several times and been around him when he has dealt with other boxing scribes and he is as genuine with them as he was with me.
When he offered his bed to me, I knew that I was dealing with a man that although humble in his beginnings had the wealth of an education that was taught to him by his beloved mother.
On May 30th, “Perro” Angulo will be taking on his biggest challenge to date when he faces former two time welterweight champion Kermit Cintron in Florida. Rest assured that I will be cheering for Angulo, journalist ethics be damned.
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