bennie wrote:kikibalt wrote:bennie wrote:Does anyone know how Jesse Burnett is these days?
I'll see if I can fine out for you.
Thanks, Frank. Jesse was surely one of the unluckiest light-heavies ever. They robbed him a million times.
I sat next to Eddie Gregory watching the Jerry Martin-Jesse Burnett fight at the Philly Spectrum.
Gregory commented to me at some point during the fight that Burnett was the “slickest” fighter he had ever fought.
I wish I had asked him to explain that in further detail, but we were watching the fight.
Both Burnett and Martin were tall light heavies.
Burnett landed his right hand repeatedly, round after round. Martin was so strong at that time that he just took it, round after round. I assumed Martin was losing the fight.
It was a 12-round fight. In the final round, showing great stamina, Martin came on strongly, drove Burnett around the ring, and knocked Burnett down.
The decision was a surprise to me--for Martin, the hometown fighter.
I always brought 4 one-quart wax containers of orange juice with me in a big paper bag when I went to a fight, and gave them to fighters I liked after their fights in the dressing room.
I went to Burnett’s dressing room. He was sitting there surrounded by some weirdly dressed pimp types. Also there was his manager, (white guy), the guy who had some connection with blacklisted basketball player Connie Hawkins..
I told Burnett that Martin was a friend of mine, but that I thought he [Burnett] won the fight.
Burnett commented that Martin was “strong,” but still had “things to learn.”
I gave Burnett one of my quarts of orange juice, which would be a godsend for a dehydrated fighter after a fight, as long as his mouth wasn’t cut. One of the pimp types grabbed at the carton as Burnett held it, saying “Why do you get all that? What about us?” and tried to take it away from him.
I got furious, and said, “This guy just fought and got robbed. What did you do? I gave the juice to HIM, not you.”
I was so angry every one there was afraid of me, even though there was only one of me and many of them.
Then I went to Martin’s dressing room and I saw something I have never seen before. Martin was sitting on a table in the room, and as I started to step in the room it almost felt like a force was pushing me back out. Martin’s face was so swollen on the left side high on the face from all the heavy right hands he had taken from Burnett, that the swollen side of his face projected out so that it seemed to take up most of the room. I NEVER saw a face like that. It looked like a space man’s face.
Martin’s local manager-trainer said that they had to go to the hospital to have the cut on the surface of the swelling stitched up, because although he was a medic, he didn’t know how to handle a cut like that on top a swelling so huge.
Burnett and his entourage then came into the room. Burnett grinned and yelled out loudly (and somewhat affably) as he entered, “How is that TURKEY?” to Martin. Martin sat there quietly and they talked a bit, with Martin complimenting Burnett about his abilities.
I followed Martin and his manager to the hospital in my car.
Martin wasn’t afraid of fighting, but he was terrified once we got inside the hospital and he went into an operating room with the Asian doctor on call there that late at night. Very interesting how someone can be unafraid of an area that would scare most people, but totally terrified in another.
I could see what a bad state of mind Martin was in as he took off his clothes to lie on the table, so I told him I would be around the corner, holding his clothes and his wallet for him.
In the next room I sat and waited, talking to Martin’s ‘manager.’
The doctor came out and said they were done, and as I went into the room I could see Martin was still totally terrified. Some comments he made as I handed him his wallet and clothes showed me he was in an extremely bad state of mind.
At the same moment the clueless manager started jabbering loudly and critically about what Martin should have done in the fight, completely oblivious to the condition Martin was in psychologically.
The jerk kept up his clueless barrage as we walked out. I could see Martin, in the state of mind he was in, was possibly going to go kill himself if he was subjected to that steadily in a closed car on a long ride home, so I took Martin by the arm and said, “I’ll give him a ride home.”
The manager said, “I’m his manager. I’ll give him the ride home.”
I said again I was giving him the ride home, and the guy decided not to fool with me.
On the ride I asked Martin about various buildings we passed in Philly, about people I had seen at the gym earlier in the day---all commonplace conversation—which eventually brought him back to a normal state of mind. By the time he was home he was in a perfectly good state of mind.
The manager must have talked about that, because the next time I called the Philly promoter to ask what he had coming up, when I said, “What about Jerry Martin? Does he have anything coming up?”
the promoter, paused and said to me very pointedly,
“That’s for his manager to decide—isn’t it.”
Martin had great equipment. They trained him to beat James Scott, because they wanted to get rid of Scott. They gave Martin the best sparring partners, and primed him to win that fight. He knocked Scott down with single right hands in both the first and seconds rounds, something nobody else ever did.
Then they told Martin to take time off (get out of shape) and that he wouldn’t fight until the end of the summer. I told him that didn’t make any sense, and that he shouldn’t get lax at that point.
Then, after he did stop training, they suddenly sprung on his him that he was fighting Eddie Gregory in a 15-round title fight in a couple weeks. In his ‘preparation’ for the fight, his stooge manager told him NOT to use any of his best punches, not practice them, etc. I talked to him only once before that fight, and he said he was “arguing” with his manager about that. Sick.
Martin’s chance of beating Gregory would have been NOT to allow Gregory to use his strengths—which were boxing at longer range, and to try to concentrate the fight in close where Martin would be using his strengths. Among other things, referee Tony Perez made sure there was no infighting.
Time stops me from going into detail re the Saad Muhammed-Martin title fight, where Martin was the only one involved who was not a member of the [muslim] club, with promoter Murad Muhammed, opponent Saad Muhammed, Saad’s managers, and referee Larry Hazzard-- all muslims. And of course the Larry Hazzard all time prize‘performance’ as so-called ‘referee’ in that fight.
Or Martin’s title fight with Braxton, where he wasn’t in condition to work out in a gym, much less fight, and showed up for that fight with stitches taken out of his lower lip two days before the fight and badly bruised ribs. And the lovely Eddie Futch there—the only time he was ever in Martin’s corner—just to make sure the fight did go on. And Futch didn’t even bother to go back to the dressing room with the badly beaten up Martin after the fight. On to his next ‘assignment.’
Some of these guys had great abilities and strengths, but were used a pieces in the overall ‘agenda.’
Take a look at Martin against James Scott, when they did prime and train him to go all out and win.
Burnett was robbed royally in his fight with Leon Spinks.
(Larry Hazzard was the ‘referee,’ of course.)