Julio . . .

By Rick Farris

I started boxing at Johnny Flores' backyard gym in Pacoima, mid-60's.
Johnny taught me how to box, as well as a couple of his gym's coaches, fighters, etc.
Although pretty young, I had an strong desire to be a fighter, more important, a part of boxing.

What I didn't get at Johnny's gym, I'd have a chance to pick-up at the Main Street Gym on weekends.
Johnny would almost always be at Main Street on saturday and sundays, unless he was out of town.
If he was gone, his brother, trainer Julio Flores would watch after me.
Julio trained a few of Johnny's boxers including Ruben Navarro, Ronnie Cisneros and Johnny Quintella. All Eastside guys.

I liked Julio, he was always good to me, he was calm, low key and would speak common sense to us.
Julio's son, Larry Flores, had been a hot amateur boxer in Los Angeles during the 1950's.
I would see Larry in the gym during the 60's, a good looking guy, a sharp boxer who'd embarass top guys in the gym.
You could see his talent, but something was lacking, something inside.

I remember posters tacked to the dusty walls of Johnny Flores backyard gym.
Some were advertsing local amateur boxing cards, from venues of days gone by, such as the Valley Gardens Arena.
The Flores stable was well represented on some of those cards. Guys like Luis "The Lion" Perez, Larry Flores, Manuel Diaz.
These were the last generation, I'd be part of the next group.

Decades later, Frank Baltazar would put some perspective on what happened to Larry Flores.
"This guy was the best amateur fighter I seen come out of Los Angeles at the time, one of the best ever."
Baltazar continued, "But they pushed him to hard, over worked him, by the time he turned pro, he was burnt out."
Baltazar was careful to avoid the same when developing his own three son's boxing careers.

When I was seventeen, about a year before I turned pro, Julio became more involved in my training.
I began working out at Main Street on the weekends, and also a couple days during the week, and just two nights at Johnny's back yard gym.
I needed better boxing and that's what I got at the Main Street Gym.
Julio and I worked well together, and I began boxing with Navarro, Cisneros, and Ernie Lopez' amateur brother from Utah, Danny.

One evening, Julio and I were walking out to the parking lot behind the gym.
It was 1969, and I was driving a '55 Ford pick-up I'd just bought for $400.
Julio looked at the tires and shook his head. "Those are no good, your going to have a blow-out. I can get a you a new set, four tires for $50."

Julio worked at a tire and automotive shop on San Fernando Road near Lincoln Heights. The next day I'd call him and he'd tell me the address.

When I call, Julio tells me to park behind the building when I get there.
When I arrive, he meets me in the alley and tells me to wait there.
A few minutes later, I see a tire fall out of the back window of the garage, and then another, and two more.
I wait for Julio, as instructed, a moment later he appears and wants to hurry.
He and I pick up the tires from the alley and toss them in the bed of my pick-up.

I look the tires over and they are brand new. I hand him the money and thank him. Julio nodded, "See you later, at the gym."
I took the tires to a gas station and paid some guy to install them.
I still laugh every time I think of those tires flying out the back window. I never discussed the deal with Julio.

A few months later I'd have my pro debut. I'd close the show in a five-rounder, which was a pretty good fight.
The main event featured an up and coming Venezuelan featherweight contender and future world champ, Antonio Gomez.
In the dressing room, prior to my match, Julio asks me, "Are you nervous?" I answer, "I'm OK."
He then hands me a pill, "take this, it'll help your nerves."

The pill was a yellow & black capsule. I swallowed it and fifteen minutes later there was no way I could relax.
I never asked Julio about that pill. And he never again offered me one. But I threw a lot of leather that night.

I think of Julio every time I drive down San Fernando Road in Lincoln Heights.
Awhile back, I believe I heard Julio Flores had passed away. You'd think I would know, but sometimes we lose track of people.

Oddly, as close as I was to Julio in gym, camp, the ring, etc. I never knew much about him personally, as I did Johnny and the others.
Julio was solid, when I followed what he said, things worked. Julio worked "the basics," things that win fights. Common sense.

I recently communicated with Johnny Flores grandaughter. I remember when her mother was a little girl.
She was interested in my memories of her grandfather, and I will share some of mine.
I can't think of Johnny without so many others coming to mind. Thoughts of Julio Flores, make me smile.