A Johnnie Flores Story

By kiki

Johnnie Flores, late Los Angeles boxing manager and trainer, and a WWII hero used to tell me all kinds of stories back in the day. One story he told me in 1977 as we were flying to Miami was about a Mexican fighter who was sent to him in the early '60's to handle while the fighter was in Los Angeles to fight a local hero - When promoter Aileen Eaton called a press conference to promote the fight Johnnie discovered that the fighter didn't have any decent clothing to appear in front of the press, Johnnie told me that he needed to dress up the fighter, but how? He said he was not about to put up a couple of hundred bucks at a Robert Hall Clothier store for a suit, then he remembered his uncle Zeferino Ramirez. Mr. Ramirez was the owner of a Southern California chain of mortuaries. Johnnie said he called on his uncle and asked for a favor. After Johnnie explained the situation to Mr. Ramirez the mortician said that he would be more than happy to help 'em out. Mr. Ramirez whom dying male clients were mostly on the poor side had closets at his mortuaries that were full of cheap, cheap, ill-fitted suits to sell to the families of the newly depart grandfather's, father's, uncle's, etc etc - Johnnie drove the fighter to the Zeferino Ramirez Mortuary which was located on Brooklyn Ave in East Los Angeles and dressed the fighter up in a white shirt and blue tie and ill-fitted black suit. Johnnie said that as they were leaving Mr. Ramirez told them to be sure to bring the threads back as soon as the press conference was over as he had a client who was the same size as the fighter waiting to get dressed....I asked Johnnie how did the Mexican fighter do in the fight, "he got KO'd in the first round" he answered

"Damn Yanks"

By kiki

Funny how people post stuff on the internet without knowing or checking out their facts.

In a Facebook boxing page, somebody asked the question about what boxers are or were native American Indian. Some guy, and from of all places, South Africa, named most of the Mexican-American fighters of the recent past, including my son Tony, as been part Indian. He got pissed when I told him we were not Indian, he told me that Tony's mother Connie was from a tribe in Utah, this was before he knew I was Tony's old man. When I told him that I was Tony's dad, he told me I was been rude and in his words: "you are a typical yank, everything is centered around you" Damn Yanks!!!...By the way, neither Connie nor I have ever been in Utah. I'm sure that I and maybe Connie to have some kind of Mexican Indian blood in us, but neither of us is classified as "Indian or Native-American"

"Damn Yanks"

R.I.P: Abel Fernandez

By kiki

It's with great sadness that I announce the passing of a great human being, our friend, Abel Fernandez. Abel was a Los Angeles Light Heavyweight Golden Gloves Champion in the late 1940's and turned pro in 1950. During his short pro boxing career, Abel fought at the Hollywood Legion Stadium and the Olympic Auditorium numerous times. Whether, he was on the card or not, Abel was a fixture at both arenas in that Golden Age of boxing....Abel was inducted into the California Boxing Hall of Fame in 2013. The Los Angeles boxing community and the City of Angels mourn the loss of a great friend.

Abel would become a co-star on the TV-series "The Untouchables." And would go on to appear in countless movies and TV shows….Rest in Peace, Friend

                              Abel vs. Freddie Beshore...1952

Jeff Bumpus California Boxing Hall of Fame Speech

Jeff Bumpus: This was my original CBHOF speech as it was written before time constrictions made me shorten it. Hope you enjoy.......................It is safe to say that no person will ever be given this who appreciates it more than myself. And this is why: In 1993 my boxing career was over as the result of permanent damage to my left eye. I don't recall the effect on my daily personality as being one of self-pity. Instead of why me, my thought process was more like why not me? I led with my face so why not me? Long before this abrupt end I knew all too well the location and depth of my scars. But, as Thomas Harris' fictional serial killer Hannibal Lector put it "Be grateful for them! For, our scars carry the power to remind us that the past was real"

My only problem seemed to be a nagging sense of something being incomplete. I lacked that title winning moment to validate my career. Maybe when careers or relationships or sadly, even lives come to undesirable ends people naturally try to attach some sort of deeper meaning to those events. Such considerations put me in danger of becoming a philosopher without the toga( a nasty little mental image )
While in this analysis stage on a Saturday afternoon. My then four-year-old son and I were able to enjoy my new found free time watching one of his favorite movies on VHS at Home where popcorn isn't six dollars a box
During this animated feature, one of the characters, Wylie Burp, a law dog(literally a dog who was a sheriff) told his young charge," just remember that one man’s sunset is another man’s dawn. I don't know what's out there beyond those hills, but if you ride yonder, head up, eyes steady you just might find that you're the hero you've always been searching for"
I sat up in my chair and thought well there it is. The answer to my nagging philosophical query. Straight from a cartoon character, which would have been the first place I would have looked if I were thinking straight
You see The Hero’s I had always searched for are all around this room. You packed venues known as the Olympic, the Forum, the Sports Arena and in long past days, Hollywood Legion Stadium. You gave fans the bouts they clamored to see. Fans didn't wait 12 months much less 12 years for those fights. The pictures of those ring battles lined the pages of my treasured boxing magazines which detailed results, dates, and locations of these thrilling bouts. To a teenager in tiny Union Mi., you sounded like a faraway kingdom of modern day warriors.
I graduated from high school in 1980, found a boxing club and spent the coming years immersed in the gym. During this time I had 20 amateur fights in a very unspectacular amateur career before turning pro and running off 20 wins with 1 loss) Than in December of ‘85 I received the call every fighter dreams of. Matchmaker Johnny Bos was contacted by persons looking for an opponent for Julio Cesar Chavez in one of his first bouts at lightweight. Johnny decided to give the Devil a call.
All the stars were aligned. All my dreams were about to come true. I was going to be Rocky. Less than five years after being shown how to throw a jab, I am fighting the greatest fighter of my generation in the field of my dreams, the Olympic Auditorium. But we are talking about Julio Cesar Chavez. Not Percy or Yitzak. And if I couldn't get the decision, then I take great satisfaction in knowing that he probably remembers the crazy white boy who grinned at him and blew blood on his chest from that shattered nose I got at the end of round one.
Today I've returned to California for the first time since that day just two months shy of 30 years ago and I'm humbled beyond words, beyond gestures, beyond expressions. My thanks to everyone associated with the California BHOF. Most notably Frank Baltazar Sr and Don Fraser for even remembering my name much less making me a part of those personal heroes that I'd always searched for and their Hall of Fame. The friendships I make will bring me back to this place as often as I am able to, but, as law dog and cartoon philosopher, Wiley Burp said, I don't know what's out there beyond those hills. And who knows? I might walk out in front of a garbage truck and my return would be highly questionable.
I'm not a person who talks much about religion but just work with me if you would. Even if you're a non-believer, let just say for the sake of argument that there is a heaven. Now, Valhalla is the massive hall of Norse mythology reserved for those who've died in battle but in recent years it has become a more general term as a martial hall, a fighters hall for those who have passed on. So, say you end up in Heaven, no matter how unlikely your spouse says that is at this juncture, and you now want to find a Valhalla-like hall hosting your boxing friends who have passed before you. If you hate to stop and ask for directions as much as I do, allow me to save you the aggravation. You will easily find Valhalla for boxers if you begin your search on the West Coast of Heaven. Find the southwest edge. Seek out the spotlights in the valley that guide you to the corner of 18Th and Grand. It’s pretty simple, you see? The great ones always met there. I'd like to thank Phil Rice for his help not only with my book but on this trip. Fighters as a species have trouble making good friends during their career. But then after the lights fade either we get wiser or better people find us. The latter seems to be the case with Phil. Thank you, Phil. My mother, Rozanne, Who showed me, not told me, how to pursue a dream when, as the divorced mother of three with two still at home refinanced the only home she had ever known to fund her dream of being an RN. And if you have had a heart attack in Northern Indiana in the last 35 years you might be glad she did. My son Michael who is no longer four, although I dearly wish that he was. Mike eased his dad into retirement. Our children are our second chance at the wonders of life as we see it through their innocent eyes and are reminded of the time when we saw the same. And in 1993, if there was one thing mikes dad needed it was a new set of eyes. And to all my new friends in the California Boxing Hall of Fame: if we've met let’s talk again if we haven't met, I can’t wait to meet you. Thank you all so very much!!!

Dreams of Ghosts that Roam the Olympic Auditorium

By kiki

A list of fighters that have left us (most of these fighters I saw fight either live or on TV, some of them I didn’t get to see box because they were before my time) - and who fought at Los Angeles’s Grand Dame of boxing, ‘The Olympic Auditorium’…The list also includes trainers, managers, referees, judges, announcers and promoters. This list is made up from memory and if I have left some out I apologize. Some fighters on this list were top rank fighters who fought for world titles and became champions, and some who fought for titles but never became champs, and some, because of the politics in boxing who never got a title shot. And some on the list never got out of the prelims but, who nevertheless fought their hearts out as their dreams of fighting at the famed arena became a reality….In my dreams, I see the ghosts of these fighters sitting around the section that was unofficially reserved for the boxing community as they josh with each other. I also see some ghosts and their ghost ladies shadow boxing down the aisles as they make their way to their ringside seats.

The list:

Louie Jauregui, Johnnie Flores, Jake Horn, Lou Bernal, Fabela Chavez, Bernard and Maxie Docusen, Lauro Salas, Rudy Jordan, Rudy Garcia, Gil Cadilli, Cisco Andrade, Dave Contreras, Carlos and Al Chavez, Keeny Teran, Baby Casanova, Enrique Bolanos, Art “Golden Boy” Aragon, Raton Macias, Ricardo “Pajarito” Moreno, Battling Torres, Mando Ramos, Indian (Ernie) Red Lopez, Genero Hernandez, Fidel LaBarba, Jackie Fields, Joe Salas, Jimmy McLarnin, Gig Rooney, George Hansford, Henry Armstrong, Turkey Thompson, John Thomas, Fitzie Fitzpatrick, Chalky Wright, Cal and Aileen Eaton, George Parnassus, Manuel Ortiz, Babe McCoy, Clarence Henry, Irish Bob Murphy, Jimmy Lennon, Howie Steindler, Don Jordan, Ramon Fuentes, Jose Luis Cotero, Billy Peacock, Duke Holloway, Canto and Joe Robleto, Irvin Berman, Raul Rojas, Frankie Crawford, Jackie McCoy, Norm Lockwood, Harry Kabakoff, Ralph Gambina, Eddie Futch, Frankie and Juan Luis Campos, Dan Tobey, Willie Bean, Chuck Bodak, John Cabrera, Lorraine Chargin, Rudy Cruz, Lou Filippo, Ruth Fraser, Jimmy Harryman, Dynamite Jackson, Georgie Latka, Jimmy McDaniels, Archie Moore, L.C. Morgan, Sammy Sanders, Petey Servin, Al Silvani, Bill Slayton, Allen Syers, John Thomas, Dick Young, Charlie Powell, Davey Gallardo, Javier “Baby Face” Gutierrez, Kid Rayo, Tony and Bob Fuentes, Jim Jeffries, Bobby Pacho, Johnny Forbes, Eddie Chavez, Oscar Reyes, Pappy Zazker, Manuel Dros, Dr. Al Stolper, Jackie Leonard, George Parnassus, Sparky Rudolph, Paddy Quaid, Johnny and Nick Villaflor, Joe Kelly, Baby Moe Mario, Rudy Rosenberg, Harry Gordon. Irish Jimmy Quinn, Bob Bremwood, Cecil Schoonmaker, Earl Bebee, Jonny Ortega, Tote Martinez, Mario Trigo, Sid Flaherty, Chu Chu Jimenez, Phil “Wildcat” Kim, Young Jack Johnson, Tony Moreno, Baby Ike, Jimmy Carter, Willie Ketchum, Jimmy Roche, Johnny Gonsalves, Ernie Serfas, Henry Blouin, Hoyt Porter, Jimmy Bivins, Jerry Moore and Ike Chetsnut….There are many more people that I remember, but I am not sure that they are yet ghosts or are still with us.

2015 California Boxing Hall of Fame

By kiki

A few words about the 2015 California Boxing Hall of Fame: The event run allot smoother this year than it has had in past years. The inductees, for the most part, stuck to the few minutes that they were allotted to make their speeches, one or two went on too long. I notice CBHOF President Don Fraser tugging on the suit coat of one of the inductees, but to no avail, as the inductee kept going on and on…Us that log on social media sites have made many new friends via those sites, and I dare say some enemies too. Some of those friends we will never get to meet in person (don’t care to meet the enemies), but having said that I had the pleasure of meeting some Facebook friends face to face for the first time at this year’s CBHOF event. Four that I met at the event for the first time among others were two beautiful ladies, Becky Cotero Moreno and Yolanda Valdez-Esparaza, inductee Jeff Bumpus, and the infamous Saul Saucedo. The day before the event I had the great pleasure of meeting, along with his son Paul, Phil Rice. Phil and Paul made the trek west for Jeff Bumpus's induction. Phil and I had had an internet friendship for a number of years, but we had never met face to face. We had talked at times of he coming out to the Left Coast for some real home-cooked Mexican food, this weekend it all came to fruition but, unfortunately, his time on the coast was too short for him to taste Connie’s home-cooked chili verde. How I would have loved to have seen Phil eat chili verde Mexican style, with just tortillas and no fork, that would have a quite a sight…It was also nice seeing some old friends, a number too big to mention here…Last but not least: One thing that I was disappointed was to see the name of Advertising Director Ray Maynez name omitted from the staff credits on the official program, it was probably an oversight on the printer side, but that’s no excuse, and for that, I think the CBHOF owns Ray an apology and been part of the CBHOF I offer Ray our sincere apology. My understanding is that Ray will not be with us next year, so I want to wish him the best of luck in whatever future endeavors he partakes in…I hope to see you all at next year's event.

Frankie and the Las Vegas Golden Gloves

By kiki

Paul Caruso, seen here with Art “Golden Boy” Aragon once did some fixin’ for us.

Frankie, having gone to Golden Gloves National's in 1975 with the L.A. team was not able to fight in the 1976 L.A tourney because of a broken ankle. We figure that by the time Las Vegas held their tournament (Vegas held their tourney a few weeks after L.A.’s) that Frankie’s ankle would be heal and that he could fight there. So I called Bill Miller L.V. tournament director and told him I was taking Frankie to fight on the L.V tourney, he told me not to bother, that Frankie would not be allowed to fight because he had fought on the Olympic Auditorium’s pro/am card against AAU rules. A few days later I was in Aileen Eaton’s office and I told her what Miller had said, she told me “go see Paul Caruso and he’ll fix it for you with one phone call, tell him I send you” Frankie and I went to see Caruso in his Beverly Hills office, when we were ushered into his office I said to him “Aileen Eaton said to talk you and that you could fix our problem with one phone call” He smiled and said “Aileen gives me too much credit” I then explain our situation to him “Las Vegas, huh?” he mutter, more to himself than us. He picked up the phone and dialed a number and after a conversation that lasted less than five minutes he hung up and told Frankie, "it fix, you’re fighting in the Vegas Golden Gloves. I think the dude was connected!!

Frankie lost his first fight in the Vegas tourney. But no matter, we got there!!

Charles Laughton

By kiki

Connie and I were watching the 1957 movie ‘Witness For The Prosecution’ starring Tyrone Power and Charles Laughton, et.al. on the TCM channel. And we both said at the same time “remember the night Laughton was sitting behind us at the fights” Man! Talk about an old married couple thinking alike!!...Circa 1957 Connie and I were at the Hollywood Legion Stadium for the Pajarito Moreno/Tommy Bain fight. We were sitting ringside, about 4-5 rows back from the ring for the new Mexican sensation: KO artist Pajarito Moreno's Los Angeles debut. Sitting behind me was “Quasimodo”, Charles Laughton had gain fame playing Quasimodo in the 1939 movie ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ As the first fight was about to start Quasimodo tap me on my shoulder and ask me “Who do you got” I answer him “The guy in the black corner” “a dollar, I’ll take the guy in the white corner” I am not a gambler, but I wasn’t about to lose a chance to bet with Quasimodo. So we waged the small bet. The rest of the fights we waged a dollar a fight, He bet the white corner and I bet the black corner. I don’t remember who came out a dollar or two ahead…I might have gotten old, but I would never trade my boxing era for any other.

Louis or Ali?

Fantasy Fights

By kiki

I wrote this on a Facebook boxing group I belong to. The members are always setting up fantasy fight between fighters from different eras, which I think is wrong.

Comparing fighters from the ‘40’s-‘50’s to later era fighters is not fair because fighters, and people in general, in later years grew so much bigger. So when we are talking about fantasy fights I like to go with the “very thing been equal” concept. I know you are going to tell me “but that’s not reality” and I’ll tell you “of course it's not reality, it is after all about fantasy fights” There is no reality when you’re fantasizing!!!

But that been said I think the better question when comparing fighter from different eras is to ask “who was the better fighter, who had the greatest repertoire of punches, who had the biggest artillery, who had the biggest heart, who could take a punch better”…In the case of Louis and Ali there is no question who had a better repertoire and heavier artillery, Louis did… Louis could fight on the inside and outside, Ali could not, Louis had a great left hook and right hand, Ali did have a great right hand, but not much of a left hook, Louis could work the body, Ali could not, Louis could knock an opponent out with a jab, Ali could not, Ali’s jab was a flicking jab at best, sometimes thrown with an open glove. Chin? Both of them got dropped by some not so great fighters…Heart? Both had the heart of a Lion!!!...I submit that Louis was the better fighter of the two.

“What The ‘expletive’ Were You Waiting For? The Setup”

By kiki

In 1973 as director of the Los Angeles Golden Gloves, I ran some eliminating bouts at that great dame of Los Angeles boxing, The Olympic Auditorium. And so it was on a pro/am card where trainer Frankie Muche had a fighter fighting with the hopes of moving up in the tournament. While down in the catacombs of that fame arena I watched Muche’s fighter warmed up, he looked like the real thing. He also looked good shadow boxing down the aisle to the ring. But once the first bell rang the kid froze, the number of punches he threw in three rounds you could count in two hand. He lost, no surprise there. But the kid, while Frankie Muche from behind him was yelling at him, was shadow boxing up the aisle on his way back to the catacombs looking like a champ. Once in the catacombs Frankie lost his cool and yelled at the kid “what the ‘expletive’ were you waiting for!?’ The kid throwing beautiful combs while still shadow boxing answered without losing a beat “for the setup”….Some things in life you just can’t make up!!

"Little Beaver’s ex-Old lady"

Little Beaver

                                                    By kiki

                                      Beware XXX Language

Circa early 1980’s we were in an Arizona boxing training camp getting some fighters ready for their upcoming bouts. Hanging around the camp like a barfly was a Native American lady, who I learned was the ex-wife of midget wrestler Little Beaver. The lady was known to turn a trick now and then….One time I was having a drink with her at the camp’s bar. I asked her about Little Beaver who I had seen wrestle back in the ‘50’s, she laughed out loud and said “he was a fag”

One time we had a fighter fighting the main event in Tucson (he lost by decision but came out with a clean face). After the fight, we were at the hotel’s bar having drinks and our fighter after a few drinks made a deal with the lady, $20.00 for a blowjob. They soon disappeared into the darkness. Some minutes later they came back into the bar arguing as they walked in. Somebody asked the lady what was wrong “the sonofabitch don’t wanna pay me for the blowjob!” she answered. Somebody told the fighter in Spanish “paque a la señora para su servicio” (pay the lady for her service) the fighter replied in broken English “no, she no give good blow job, she bites my dickie” At that the lady cooks up her left arm and pointing with her right hand to her bulging bicep asked the fighter “see this?” the fighter moved in close to get a good look at her bicep, and as he did so the lady whipped a textbook left hook and our fighter was out cold before he hit the bar’s floor. Our fighter who had a clean face after going ten tough rounds against a top ten fighter was knocked out cold over a blow job…

The Golden Boy Loved The Booing

                                                     By kiki

Art “Golden Boy” Aragon played the bad guy with the Mexican fans with much success.  He would go TV/radio and say he wasn’t Mexican-American, he would say he was Italian or Spanish. The Mexican fans would pack the Olympic Auditorium to the rafters (10,400 fans) to see him get his ass kicked. They would boo him as he would enter the ring and all during the fight, they would boo the loudest when his hand was raised after KOing one of their heroes. Before walking out of the ring he would parade around the ring thumbing his nose at the booing crowd. A “hot” beer would sometimes be thrown at him. But he knew what he was doing all the time, he knew they would be back and pack the arena for his next fight hoping to see him get his ass kicked, and since he fought on a percentage of the gate he needed those pissed off Mexican to come to his fights. He loved to say that they could boo him all they wanted as long as they bought a ticket, that he would cry all the way to the bank the day after the fight….The loudest I heard him been booed was when he fought Lauro Salas. Art and Salas fought at the Olympic after getting into a bar fight because Art called a Salas a “fucking Mexican” Sure miss those day!!

Stiverne VS Wilder.

The fight was an okay fight, not great by any means, but better than any of the K bro’s fights. Wild showed he can fight a bit, but he also showed his inexperience when he tried to close the show. The times when he had Stiv in trouble and he went for the KO he looked like an amateur in the way he would flail away with arm punches, no snap or turning of the wrist, nor did he placed his punches when he needed to..The one good thing for Wild was going the 12 rounds without getting winded. He has a good right hand, but he needs to learn how feint with the left to set up the right hand…I hope he hold the title for a bit….As for Stiv, I think it’s time for him to hang up the gloves, he is a slow 36 years old fighter, and he can’t expect to get any better, but I expect that he will hang in there for a few more paydays, like maybe a K fight.

One Round or Ten Rounds, What’s the Difference?

                                               By KiKi

In the early 1980’s Jimmy Montoya had a fighter fighting the main event as an “opponent” at the Olympic Auditorium in The City of Angels. The fighter whom name is long forgotten was fighting for a guaranteed purse of $2,500.00 for the ten round fight.

The bell sounded for the first round and a few blows were thrown in the first minute and a half. Around the second minute mark Jimmy’s fighter took a decent punch to the chin, but it was no knockdown punch, but nevertheless Jimmy’s fighter hit the canvas.

With his fighter lying on the canvas Jimmy started yelling at him to get up, but all Jimmy got from the fighter was a wink and a nod. When the referee reached the count of ten the-fighter jumped to his feet.

Once they were down in the catacombs, as the Olympic Auditorium dressing rooms were known, Jimmy asked his fighter “Why didn’t you get up?” The fighter replied with a question to Jimmy whom he called Pappy “how much am I getting paid for the fight, Pappy?”  “You know you’re getting twenty five hundred dollars” Jimmy answered him. “Right, twenty five hundred if I go one round or ten rounds, right? So what’s the difference other than taking less of a beating if I go one or ten round? None!?” “You got a point there son, let’s go to the box office and cash your check so I can get my one third”

1973: Ensenada, Baja California

                                                 By kiki

 

In late spring of 1973 I received a phone call from a representative of the I.Y.B.C. The International Youth Boxing Club located in Montebello, CA. was a youth organization headed by Southern California boxing figures such as Rudy Jordan and Mando Muniz.

 

The caller explain to me that the I.Y.B.C. was hosting a boxing meet between an Ensenada, Baja California based team and a team made up of local amateur boxers. The caller asked me if I would allow Frankie to fight in the 125 pound class. Frankie at age 15 had just come back from a two year lay-off to fight in the Junior Golden Gloves, which he won against Francisco Flores. After been told that the event would take place in ten days at the I.Y.B.C. Gym I ok’d Frankie’s partaking in the event.

 

I don’t remember much about any of the fights as I was just focus on Frankie’s fight. Frankie’s opponent was a dead-ringer of a young Mando Ramos, in facial looks and boxing style. Frankie won an exciting hard fought three round fight by UD…After the bouts were all fought and as we enjoyed a beer or two with our Baja California counterparts they invited us to Ensenada to do it all over again. They made it a point about Frankie fighting the Mando Ramos lookalike again, we accepted the challenge.

                                     

                                     Ensenada, Baja California

 

We were told that since the event was going to be during mid-summer we were going to be put-up at a private Ensenada Beach campground. Owning a motorhome at the time it was something we were looking forward to.

 

With my boxing partner John Martinez, his wife Bea, Frankie, our daughter Linda and Connie and me behind the wheel of our motorhome we left La Puente on Thursday afternoon (fights were schedule for Saturday night) we arrived in Tijuana two and half hours later. After doing a little shopping and having dinner we left Tijuana on the Tijuana/Ensenada toll road, and a toll road it was, it seem like every five miles we had to pay a toll. We arrived at the gated beach campground around midnight. Standing in front of the gate was an armed sentry. With rife across his chest he stopped us at the gate, I rolled my window down to tell him we were with the boxing club, and to my surprise I found the young sentry to be mentally challenged. I was thinking, why is this fella allowed to walk around with a loaded rife? Well we later founded out that he was the owner’s son. As I was parking the motorhome on the beach I told everybody to make sure they stayed out of his way, and not to forget that we were in Mexico and that we had to obey their laws. We spent Friday taking in the sights, eating and drinking a Mexican beer (Bohemia) here and there. By Friday afternoon the rest of the team had arrived, I don’t remember who else was on our team, I remember that the Montes’s were there, not sure if both Herman and John fought. I do remember that Eddie “Animal” Lopez was there, not sure if he fought though, he might had been a pro by that time was just along for the ride. Friday night we a had a big beach fire going, we sat around the fire telling fishing lies and drinking a beer or two.

 
Weigh-ins for the fights were early Saturday morning. Frankie and the Mando Ramos lookalike weighted in the low 120’s. After the weight-ins we had a Mexican breakfast at a local restaurant. Frankie had a mid-afternoon dinner of seafood. It was soon time for us to make our way to the arena. Fights were fought in front of a packed arena, but been focus on Frankie’s fight I can’t tell you who fought them. Fight time! We enter the ring first, a few minutes later Frankie’s opponent enter the ring, but it was not the Mando Ramos lookalike! I looked at the guy and told the referee that that was not our opponent, and that the guy had to had being in his mid-20’s. I looked around the arena and I spotted Mando Ramos’s twin gloved and leaning against a back wall. I told the referee as I pointed to the guy “that’s the guy we are fighting or we won’t fight. The “old” guy walked out of the ring as the twin walked in. They were trying put a ringer in with Frankie!..The fight was give and take for the first two rounds, but Frankie pulled it out by scoring a knockdown in the third and final round of a-great amateur fight. After the fights it was party time at the beach fire. As we were bullshitting around the fire we spotted two horses with riders making their way in the dark toward the fire. The horsemen were Frankie and Eddie “Animal” Lopez. First thing I said to them was “what the hell are you two doing, don’t you know that they still hang horse thieves in Mexico?” They jumped of the horses faster than you can say “thieves” and gave the horses a slap on the ass. Good thing the “Rife man” wasn’t around to see our horse “thieves” otherwise we would had had to attend a hanging…Sunday as we drove back home I notice Frankie rubbing his neck, he told me “don’t stop in Tijuana” We arrived home alive and well.

Lena, Joe and Johnnie

                                                     By kiki

The late Los Angeles boxing trainer, Johnnie “Mr. Golden Gloves” Flores once told me a story about how he met the beautiful Lena Horn. I was reminded of Johnnie’s story last night as I was watching Lena Horn in ‘Stormy Weather’

Johnnie’s story: soon after WWII ended Johnnie was in a fancy restaurant in New York City with WWII buddy; long time heavyweight champ Joe Louis. I don’t know if this was in the late 1940's or early 1950's. According to Johnnie, both he and Louis were broke. They were sitting there trying to figure out how to pay for dinner when in walked Lena Horn with a friend. Louis stood up and invited Horn and her friend to his and Johnnie’s table, and as he was doing so he told Johnnie to order anything he wanted.

They all had a fancy dinner with fancy drinks. After dinner Louis asked the waiter for the check, which he got, he then proceeded to check it out real good, making sure they were not over-charge, after making sure they were not, he handed the check to Lena Horn telling her “take care of this and don’t forget to add the tip to it”

Jo Jo Torres vs Stan Ward

                                      

                                                   By kiki

In spring of 1973, I and the Southern California Coaches and Managers Association took a Los Angeles amateur boxing team to the state Capital, Sacramento, for a box off against their local champs. Our heavyweight was a part time amateur boxer, Jo Jo Torres, whom real passion was been a playboy. But for the Torres vs Ward fight it was for the most part a forgettable trip in which we lost 7 out of 10 fights. When Jo Jo found out he was fighting Ward, who was known to be the best amateur heavyweight in California, I could see in his eyes that he would rather be in some nite club in LA then in a boxing ring in Sacramento. In the first round Jo Jo went down from what seemed like a so-so right hand. Down on one knee he kept looking at the canvas as the referee counted. I could see that he wasn’t going to get up, even though he could have. As the ref was about to count nine I jumped in the ring and stopped the fight to save him face. As soon as I jumped in the ring Jo Jo jumped up too and he said to me “why did you stop the fight? I was going to get up” I said to him “of course you were” As we were flying back home he kept telling anybody on the plane that would listen “I was going to get up” Of course he was!

Pencils for the Blind

 

                                               By kiki

Back in 1950’s and well into the ‘60’s there was a middle age black man that used to sit cross-legged outside the main entrance of the Olympic Auditorium on fite nite. He would sit wearing dark glasses with a white cane with a red tip near-by. His hat sitting on the sidewalk was turned upside down and full of pencils. Fans as they walked into the arena would drop coins and paper money into his hat. Very few would take a pencil. Anything to help the blind, right?....Well one night as I was milling among the crowd in front of the arena I spotted local boxing manager Ralph Gambina walking across the street, so did our blind friend, because he jumped up and yelled “hey Ralph” He caught himself but it was too late; many of the fans had seen what he had done. Soon he was gone, only to be back sitting in the same spot the following week.

What’s that old adage? “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me”

DQ=T.D.

I remember back in 1980 when Tony Baltazar was making his 13^th  start against an old veteran by the name of Chuy Rodriguez, Rodriguez was making his 43^rd pro start. After the bell sounded to end the 4^th round Rodriguez hit Tony, Tony hit him back causing a nasty cut over one of Rodriguez’s eyes. The referee called Dr. Bernhart Schwartz up into the ring to examine the cut, the good doctor did so and he told the referee that Rodriguez couldn’t continue the fight. When the referee signal that the fight was over all hell broke loose. Cups full of beer and maybe piss started raining into the ring. We jumped out of the ring before the TD decision was announced and with cops around us we made it by the skin of our teeth to our dressing room. We stay in the catacombs till way after the last fight was over. We were saved to fight another day!

Boxing Books

                                                      By kiki

In the last few weeks I read two great booking books. Let me say here that I am not a big fan of boxing books because there is not much I can learn from them, after all I’ve been around the sport for over 65 Years, first as a very young fan, than as an amateur boxer, amateur/pro trainer/manager, amateur matchmaker and the list goes on.

Now the books: first I read “Mexican American Boxing in Los Angeles” authored by Gene Aguilera. Gene’s book is a pictorial of Mexican American boxers that practiced their trade in Los Angeles and Southern California rings. Gene book covers Los Angeles Mexican American boxing from the 1900’s to 1990’s. I was most interesting in reading the 1940-’50-’60-’70 and 80’s chapters because that was my time in boxing...I read about many of the now forgotten fighters that I grew up watching at venues like the Olympic Auditorium, Hollywood Legion Stadium and the Ocean Park Arena et al….Gene did a great job researching the lives and careers of the boxers he covered in his book. Gene’s book is not about one boxer and any fight in particular. He also didn’t give us his opinion on any boxer or their fights that he wrote about, I liked that.

I next read “Becoming Taz: Writing from the Southpaw stance” authored by former professional boxer, Jeff Bumpus. In his book Jeff writes about his career as a pro boxer. He tells us what he went through in trying to be a champion in a very tough sport, only to fall short of his goal….He digs deep into every nook and cranny of the boxing business, he find that as a prospect you are cater to, only to lose favor as your career starts sliding down…What I liked about Jeff’s book is the human element he inserted in his book, his sister ready to stand up to some loud mouth “motherfucker”, his dad banging his fist on the ring apron ready to take on any sonofabitch that bad mouth his son. Yes, the book is a boxing book, but also about human nature.

As you open Jeff’s book you’ll find after the title page a page with this ‘To the dreamers and the journeymen’ Like all of us, Jeff, you might had been a dreamer, but you were not a journeyman fighter, you beat some top prospects, who were also dreamers, you fought great champions and some good contenders, you won some and lost some, and that my friend does not make you a journeyman boxer, what it does make you is a quality fighter.

I highly recommend both books.