Classic American West Coast Boxing
-
Rick Farris
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 7200
- Joined: 15 Feb 2008, 16:04
Hey Frank . . . Thanks for all the information you've posted relating to Keeny Teran (and Gil Cadilli). I know that you were friends with Teran, and you are literally filling a gap in my own knowledge of Cal Boxing history. I grew up listening to my uncle, whose favorite fighters were Aragon, Ortiz, Bolanos and Salas. My only memory of his discussing Keeny Teran related to his drug addiciton and personal troubles. Just stuff that everybody knew about, which means there is a lot of dilluted truths.
The news articals, etc. allow us to read what "reporters" had to say, which is important, however, the best is when you tell a personal story. If you can think of some insignifigant experience that took place in the gym, maybe something he did while sparring, or a discussion shared in the dressing room, or whatever?
Thanks again, Frank. This really matters to me.
-Rick
The news articals, etc. allow us to read what "reporters" had to say, which is important, however, the best is when you tell a personal story. If you can think of some insignifigant experience that took place in the gym, maybe something he did while sparring, or a discussion shared in the dressing room, or whatever?
Thanks again, Frank. This really matters to me.
-Rick
Rick,Rick Farris wrote:Hey Frank . . . Thanks for all the information you've posted relating to Keeny Teran (and Gil Cadilli). I know that you were friends with Teran, and you are literally filling a gap in my own knowledge of Cal Boxing history. I grew up listening to my uncle, whose favorite fighters were Aragon, Ortiz, Bolanos and Salas. My only memory of his discussing Keeny Teran related to his drug addiciton and personal troubles. Just stuff that everybody knew about, which means there is a lot of dilluted truths.
The news articals, etc. allow us to read what "reporters" had to say, which is important, however, the best is when you tell a personal story. If you can think of some insignifigant experience that took place in the gym, maybe something he did while sparring, or a discussion shared in the dressing room, or whatever?
Thanks again, Frank. This really matters to me.
-Rick
Keeny was a great guy to be around in the gym, I boxed with him at the Teamsters Gym, he was two- three years older then me and a lot better fighter then me, he would hold back on his punches and for that I would thanked him, the guy was good, you know I never knew he was doing drug until it became public, and when I found out, man was I sad.
Later on, when Frankie and Tony Turn pro he was there for all their fights at the Olympic, and him and I would sit in the back and just talk about the old days at the teamsters, I never hung around with him outside the gym, that part of his life I was not involved with, nice guy I miss him.
-
Rick Farris
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 7200
- Joined: 15 Feb 2008, 16:04
kikibalt wrote:Rick,Rick Farris wrote:Hey Frank . . . Thanks for all the information you've posted relating to Keeny Teran (and Gil Cadilli). I know that you were friends with Teran, and you are literally filling a gap in my own knowledge of Cal Boxing history. I grew up listening to my uncle, whose favorite fighters were Aragon, Ortiz, Bolanos and Salas. My only memory of his discussing Keeny Teran related to his drug addiciton and personal troubles. Just stuff that everybody knew about, which means there is a lot of dilluted truths.
The news articals, etc. allow us to read what "reporters" had to say, which is important, however, the best is when you tell a personal story. If you can think of some insignifigant experience that took place in the gym, maybe something he did while sparring, or a discussion shared in the dressing room, or whatever?
Thanks again, Frank. This really matters to me.
-Rick
Keeny was a great guy to be around in the gym, I boxed with him at the Teamsters Gym, he was two- three years older then me and a lot better fighter then me, he would hold back on his punches and for that I would thanked him, the guy was good, you know I never knew he was doing drug until it became public, and when I found out, man was I sad.
Later on, when Frankie and Tony Turn pro he was there for all their fights at the Olympic, and him and I would sit in the back and just talk about the old days at the teamsters, I never hung around with him outside the gym, that part of his life I was not involved with, nice guy I miss him.
Frank, I know you saw Teran fight Tommy Umeda, in fact, they fought four times. This tells me that the fights must have been pretty exciting, I know Keeny won three-of-four, but that the first one was close, and the third Umeda won by TKO. Scoring for their fourth & final fight suggests that Keeny won nearly every round.
Was Teran-Umeda a good rivalry? Sometimes, as you know, two guys just are made to put on a good show, and you never know what's likely to happen. Was this case? Did you know Umeda
Just testing
This is El Gato. I have not been able to post. Hours of writing have been lost. This is only a test. If it prints I'll answer all of you.
Answertime from El Gato
Success---my post finally printed. I am very sorry for the delay. It was frustrating not being able to answer you.
Boxingnut(Rob)---
I am hoping that our friend, Allan Syres, will join us in the near future. He will be able to answer any of your questions directly. You may know his boxing career was cut short due to a work related accident.
Also I have e-mailed Wildhawke over your way in England and asked him to check out this Classic West Coast boxing group. I would like him to write. He was so supportive of me, trying hard to get me inducted into the WBHF. He did alot of work writing letters to the board of directors. It was a special time. I'd like to mention how much effort was put into this from Dan Hanley and Rick Farris. I will never forget the campaign that they started for me in 2002-2003.
El Gato
Boxingnut(Rob)---
I am hoping that our friend, Allan Syres, will join us in the near future. He will be able to answer any of your questions directly. You may know his boxing career was cut short due to a work related accident.
Also I have e-mailed Wildhawke over your way in England and asked him to check out this Classic West Coast boxing group. I would like him to write. He was so supportive of me, trying hard to get me inducted into the WBHF. He did alot of work writing letters to the board of directors. It was a special time. I'd like to mention how much effort was put into this from Dan Hanley and Rick Farris. I will never forget the campaign that they started for me in 2002-2003.
El Gato
Answers for Elmersalsa
Elmersalsa---
What is wrong with boxing today?
I'm sure we all have our own answers to that one. My answer is that today there is so much money to be made that everyone wants to be a trainer even though they don't have the proper knowledge or experience. They don't know how to teach a fighter even the proper basic fundamentals. That's why many of the fights we see today look more like street fights. Many fighters take extra punishment because they are not taught how to really protect themselves. The classic boxing era is pretty much gone.
What fighters in my weight class were good in my days?
Just to name a few, I would start with Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles, Carlos Ortiz, Canelo Urbina-although he was not a world champion he was a great fighter. There were others that I admired, but they were not in my weight class such as my cousin, Jose Becerra who is a legend in Mexico but he was a bantamweight. These fighters that I just mentioned compared to the fighters of today---like day and night.
As I was fighting did I ever look back at my fighting record and accomplishments?
No, I never did. I only looked ahead. My only goal was to make it to the top and be the best. My desire was to be able to help my mother, brothers and sister financially who had gone without alot for so many years. Also to buy a house for my wife and my kids. Those were my main goals and I never looked back. I thanked God everyday for His blessings.
Did I regret anything about fighting in those days?
My only thing I regreted is that didn't pay very much money in those days, especially in Mexico in my beginning years. My very first fight they only paid me 10 pesos which was under one dollar. I didn't start making real money until I signed up with Jacky McCoy and that was after I had about 75 fights and that next fight paid $4000. From then on it went up and up. The largest purse I ever got was $80,000.
Regarding Bobby Valdez?
I fought him 3 times. It was 1965. This was after my miraculous healing from cancer of the liver. I had not fought for two and a half years and I had not regained my strength, but I needed the money to help my family so I took the fight. Bobby Valdez was a strong ackward type of fighter but not that skilled of a fighter. I lost two fights and drew one. After that I starting winning fights.
Antonio Cervantes?
He was a great fighter. To me he was just another fighter. I was ready and confident that I was going to win the fight. The problem was that I did not have time to warm up in my dressing room before the fight so I went into the ring cold. He put me down with a left jab in the first round. It surprised both of us, but he was more surprised when I dropped him in the third round. After that he was running for the rest of the fight. However, I was cut over my left eye and the doctor stopped the fight. Even though I was ahead in points, I lost the fight.
El Gato
What is wrong with boxing today?
I'm sure we all have our own answers to that one. My answer is that today there is so much money to be made that everyone wants to be a trainer even though they don't have the proper knowledge or experience. They don't know how to teach a fighter even the proper basic fundamentals. That's why many of the fights we see today look more like street fights. Many fighters take extra punishment because they are not taught how to really protect themselves. The classic boxing era is pretty much gone.
What fighters in my weight class were good in my days?
Just to name a few, I would start with Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles, Carlos Ortiz, Canelo Urbina-although he was not a world champion he was a great fighter. There were others that I admired, but they were not in my weight class such as my cousin, Jose Becerra who is a legend in Mexico but he was a bantamweight. These fighters that I just mentioned compared to the fighters of today---like day and night.
As I was fighting did I ever look back at my fighting record and accomplishments?
No, I never did. I only looked ahead. My only goal was to make it to the top and be the best. My desire was to be able to help my mother, brothers and sister financially who had gone without alot for so many years. Also to buy a house for my wife and my kids. Those were my main goals and I never looked back. I thanked God everyday for His blessings.
Did I regret anything about fighting in those days?
My only thing I regreted is that didn't pay very much money in those days, especially in Mexico in my beginning years. My very first fight they only paid me 10 pesos which was under one dollar. I didn't start making real money until I signed up with Jacky McCoy and that was after I had about 75 fights and that next fight paid $4000. From then on it went up and up. The largest purse I ever got was $80,000.
Regarding Bobby Valdez?
I fought him 3 times. It was 1965. This was after my miraculous healing from cancer of the liver. I had not fought for two and a half years and I had not regained my strength, but I needed the money to help my family so I took the fight. Bobby Valdez was a strong ackward type of fighter but not that skilled of a fighter. I lost two fights and drew one. After that I starting winning fights.
Antonio Cervantes?
He was a great fighter. To me he was just another fighter. I was ready and confident that I was going to win the fight. The problem was that I did not have time to warm up in my dressing room before the fight so I went into the ring cold. He put me down with a left jab in the first round. It surprised both of us, but he was more surprised when I dropped him in the third round. After that he was running for the rest of the fight. However, I was cut over my left eye and the doctor stopped the fight. Even though I was ahead in points, I lost the fight.
El Gato
Hawaiian Nisei Boxer: Yukito "Tommy" Umeda
By Tommy Umeda
Introduction
Around 1900, Kinzo Umeda and his wife Maki left Kumamoto, Japan, for Hawai’i. Umeda first worked on a sugar plantation railway then opened a dairy farm having a herd of 45 cows in the Kapahulu district of Honolulu.
The couple’s son Yukito was born in Kapahulu on January 15, 1925. The boy had five sisters, one of whom was younger, and two brothers. Both of the latter were older, and one was adopted from relatives in Japan.
Following World War II, Yukito, now known as Tommy, became a popular professional boxer, and the following are his recollections.
The article is based on:
Interviews with Tommy Umeda transcribed by his son Allen during September 2000.
A videotaped interview with Tommy Umeda conducted by Curtis Narimatsu on September 14, 2000.
Hawaii State Boxing Commission records provided by Michael Machado via Rod Masuoka.
Newspaper clippings provided by Pat Baptiste, Paul Lou, Rod Masuoka, and Curtis Narimatsu.
Clippings from The Ring provided by John Ochs.
Additional research conducted by Joseph Svinth.
The financial assistance of the Japanese American National Museum and the King County Landmarks and Heritage Commission is gratefully acknowledged.
Tommy Umeda
I remember helping clean milking stalls from ten or eleven years of age, and from the age of twelve I was milking cows. I hated doing it but Pop said to do it so we did it because we had just one employee who did most of the milking and cutting the grass for the herd. By 1940-1941 I was getting up at 2:30 in the morning to milk cows before going to school. Man, I hated it. By early 1941 feed supply for the herd and bottling supplies were becoming difficult to get because of world conditions so my brother and I begged Dad to sell the farm, but no way would he do it. About this time, the Board of Health said our dairy had to move because it was in what had become a residential district. So instead of moving to a new farm district, my brother and I ganged up on Dad and convinced him to sell the dairy. Boy, it was just in the nick of time because it was just before December 7 when we got rid of the dairy.
Meanwhile, around 1939 Honolulu’s biggest dairy and the Honolulu Advertiser joined together to start a boxing gym called Boys’ Town Gym. It was in our neighborhood so I started going over there to train. I was fourteen years old at the time. But after two to three months the gym folded and Joe Lynch, a manager/trainer who came over from the mainland to train Hollywood movie stars, bought all the equipment and opened a gym at Bethel Street in downtown and he invited me to come over and start over there. [EN1] I felt good going to Bethel Street because that’s where the pool hall and beer joints were located.
On the morning of December 7, 1941, I was training at the CYO [Catholic Youth Organization] gym, which was on the third floor on the Lady of Peace Cathedral on Fort Street. On the following day, we were to fight the boxing team from Waipahu, which is on the other side of Pearl Harbor, and the Waipahu boys were to come to our gym to weigh-in and get a physical check for our fight. While we were waiting for them to show up we looked out the window and saw the enemy planes flying over Pearl Harbor. The third floor was pretty high in those days.
They didn’t show up so after a while a bunch of us walked mauka [toward the direction of the mountain] on Nuuanu Avenue, and saw where a bomb fell outside the residence of some of our teammates. Later we found out three of our teammates lost their lives to the bombs.
So for a while boxing activity at the CYO gym came to a halt.
But with war breaking out there weren’t too many activities going on at night so the professional promoter started putting on Sunday daytime fights. There weren’t enough pro fighters to fill the Sunday afternoon card, so they worked it so that amateur fighters could fill in under the pros. As a result, we started training again.
About this time the Army said that ethnic Japanese fighters could only fight other ethnic Japanese fighters. So I told Bill Kim, the team manager for the CYO club, "I quit." After thinking it over, Bill told me, "You are now Tommy Wong and you’re fighting on Sunday." This is how I got the name "Tommy". [EN3] Everybody knew I was Umeda, not Wong, but nobody cared and I was only sixteen and it didn’t occur to me that maybe I should say this wasn’t right.
When we weren’t fighting on Sunday’s pro card in Honolulu, we fought at Red Hill (a big defense project involving underground fuel storage at Pearl Harbor) and sometimes at Schofield Barracks, Pearl Harbor, Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station, and other places around the island. We liked fighting at Schofield Barracks, ‘cuz they had the best grub of all bases. During wartime a lot of things were rationed, but up there you could eat all you wanted.
On January 15, 1943 I turned 18. I don’t remember the date when they called for volunteers to form the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, but on March 24, 1943 I was in the Army. I never did graduate from high school.
During our training at Camp Shelby, Mississippi, we did some boxing at the base gym. [EN4] I was in this fight with a guy from the 69th Division and he started biting my neck. Or at least everybody thought he was biting my neck. Actually he was trying to get his mouthpiece back in. But anyway people piled in the ring and it almost became a real fight. So that was the last time I boxed in the Army.
I was assigned to Company I, which was one of the best units. In Italy, Company I became famous for its involvement in the rescue of that Texas unit, the Lost Battalion, but I was in the hospital, with dysentery. I was very fortunate to miss that one, thank God.
I returned to Hawai’i in 1945 and started boxing professionally soon after. My managers included Richard "Pablo" Chinen and Henry "Moe" Oshiro, and the promoter who did the most for me was Al Schaff.
We fought all over the Territory, going to the military bases, Kauai, Hilo, places like that. A typical purse in those days was fifty dollars. That was nice, but it didn’t pay the bills, so for a job, I worked at Hickam Field as a carpenter. Hell, what do I know about carpentry. So after the first job force reduction, I got my get-lost notice.
Well, I took the hint and sold my contraption, a 1940 Desoto, packed my bags, and got myself a one-way ticket to Seattle. On the plane I sat with a guy going to Anchorage who told me that Alaskan salmon fishermen were making a pile of loot working about eight to nine months of the year. That was enough for me.
When I got off at Seattle I called my army buddy Shiro Kashino and told him about my plan. He said, "Are you crazy? Everybody there is shooting each other for jobs." So the next morning Shiro picked me up at the YMCA where I checked in and he drove me to the Boeing Airplane Company employment office and told me to go in and sign up.
After work, I went straight to the gym to train. I think it was called the Cherry Street Gym, and it was where all the professional boxers trained. Harry "Kid" Matthews was the name fighter in those parts back then.
I lost one fight out of about sixteen. That loss was to Stan Almond, the Canadian bantamweight champ, during an 8-round fight in Tacoma. Another fight, with Jackie Turner, was ruled a loss at the time. But it was so unfairly scored that three days later the Washington Boxing Commission changed the decision to a draw.
After two months Almond and I got together again for a 10-round fight in Vancouver, British Columbia. Vancouver was his hometown, so you know the chances of a buddhahead winning if the fight went the distance. But I beat him anyway.
Around then I ran into Al Schaff, who was in Seattle on his way to Los Angeles. In Seattle they were only paying $50 for a 4-round fight and $100 for a 6-round fight, so I begged Al to get me some fights in Los Angeles.
Well, he had connections with the top man in LA, namely Babe McCoy’s nephew, Sparky Rudolph. As for Rudolph’s connections, well, after a couple of fights in LA, I got called for fights in Las Vegas, Anchorage, San Jose, Mexico City…
In October 1951 they sent Freddie "Babe" Herman and me to Australia. I was supposed to fight Jimmy Carruthers, the world’s #1 bantamweight contender, but when I got there they said they never heard of me so they told me to prove myself first. I must fight Bluey Wilkins, a featherweight.
Well, I got myself into the best shape of my life and I beat Wilkins in twelve rounds. After that, Carruthers would have nothing to do with me in the ring.
After a couple months of sitting around, they matched me with Ray Coleman, who was in a weight class higher than me. During this fight, I was ahead on points, but in the seventh my bandage was hanging out of my glove, so I raised my hands to show the referee. I expected him to halt the fight while they fixed my bandage. But the referee said I quit. Bull! I was ahead on points so why would I quit?
After hanging around Australia for five months waiting to fight Jimmy Carruthers, I finally told the promoter to give me my airplane ticket home. Boy, was he glad to see me leave. To think six months later, Carruthers went to South Africa to fight Vic Toweel for the world championship, and won by knockout.
In April and June 1952 I fought Keeny Teran for the California bantamweight championship. The first time I lost, but the second time I knocked him out in seven rounds.
Fight program for the first fight with Teran.
Courtesy Tommy Umeda.
After that I went to Mexico City for a fight and it was called due to a cut. I lost a couple fights due to cuts, but was never knocked out. I think the reason is that I rode the punches. Riding the punches isn’t something you are born knowing how to do, it’s something you learn. You don’t have to have a great punch to be a fighter, but you do need to be clever, to move around. Me, I was a club fighter, a crowd-pleaser, rather than a great boxer. I gave the crowd a good show. That was what I did. And when I couldn’t do that any more I quit boxing.
After retiring from the ring I stayed in California. Usually I worked construction worker but sometimes I worked as an extra in movies. The role everybody has seen is Godzilla (1956). [EN8] The original was filmed and produced in Japan, but the American version included splices of Raymond Burr that were shot in a small studio in LA. I played a Japanese news reporter taking notes while a Japanese professor advised a press conference about plans for getting rid of Godzilla. Actually, I was writing up my scratch sheet for the horse races at Santa Anita, and as soon as the first break was called, I ran to the phone to call my bookie and place a bet.
Around Thanksgiving 1957 I went to New Mexico as the valet for professional wrestler Stanley "Oyama Kato" Mayeshiro. I liked traveling, but that was still rough work. I mean, you had to travel a couple hundred miles a day, every day, including Sundays. Worse, we were the bad guys, what they called heels. So my job was to make people hate us. I’d wear these thick glasses and pull on the referee’s leg and sometimes little old ladies would come from behind and whack me on the back with their handbags. Another time, a little kid put his ice cream cone on my seat while I was walking around harassing the referee. I sat down without looking and gave everyone a good laugh. Meanwhile Mayeshiro treated me like I really was his valet. So when we went back to LA for Christmas I told him to get somebody else.
In 1959 I got married. My wife, Maria, was born in Chile, but her family returned to Japan when she was a child. During the early 1960s we had two sons, Allen and Robin. But my parents were getting old, so in 1968 we left LA for Honolulu, as that way I could do a better job of taking care of them. In Hawai’i, I continued working in construction until the late 1980s. After that I worked part-time as a tour guide for Japanese tourists, and then I retired. Well, sort of -- weekdays I help take care of my granddaughter while her mother is at work.
By Tommy Umeda
Introduction
Around 1900, Kinzo Umeda and his wife Maki left Kumamoto, Japan, for Hawai’i. Umeda first worked on a sugar plantation railway then opened a dairy farm having a herd of 45 cows in the Kapahulu district of Honolulu.
The couple’s son Yukito was born in Kapahulu on January 15, 1925. The boy had five sisters, one of whom was younger, and two brothers. Both of the latter were older, and one was adopted from relatives in Japan.
Following World War II, Yukito, now known as Tommy, became a popular professional boxer, and the following are his recollections.
The article is based on:
Interviews with Tommy Umeda transcribed by his son Allen during September 2000.
A videotaped interview with Tommy Umeda conducted by Curtis Narimatsu on September 14, 2000.
Hawaii State Boxing Commission records provided by Michael Machado via Rod Masuoka.
Newspaper clippings provided by Pat Baptiste, Paul Lou, Rod Masuoka, and Curtis Narimatsu.
Clippings from The Ring provided by John Ochs.
Additional research conducted by Joseph Svinth.
The financial assistance of the Japanese American National Museum and the King County Landmarks and Heritage Commission is gratefully acknowledged.
Tommy Umeda
I remember helping clean milking stalls from ten or eleven years of age, and from the age of twelve I was milking cows. I hated doing it but Pop said to do it so we did it because we had just one employee who did most of the milking and cutting the grass for the herd. By 1940-1941 I was getting up at 2:30 in the morning to milk cows before going to school. Man, I hated it. By early 1941 feed supply for the herd and bottling supplies were becoming difficult to get because of world conditions so my brother and I begged Dad to sell the farm, but no way would he do it. About this time, the Board of Health said our dairy had to move because it was in what had become a residential district. So instead of moving to a new farm district, my brother and I ganged up on Dad and convinced him to sell the dairy. Boy, it was just in the nick of time because it was just before December 7 when we got rid of the dairy.
Meanwhile, around 1939 Honolulu’s biggest dairy and the Honolulu Advertiser joined together to start a boxing gym called Boys’ Town Gym. It was in our neighborhood so I started going over there to train. I was fourteen years old at the time. But after two to three months the gym folded and Joe Lynch, a manager/trainer who came over from the mainland to train Hollywood movie stars, bought all the equipment and opened a gym at Bethel Street in downtown and he invited me to come over and start over there. [EN1] I felt good going to Bethel Street because that’s where the pool hall and beer joints were located.
On the morning of December 7, 1941, I was training at the CYO [Catholic Youth Organization] gym, which was on the third floor on the Lady of Peace Cathedral on Fort Street. On the following day, we were to fight the boxing team from Waipahu, which is on the other side of Pearl Harbor, and the Waipahu boys were to come to our gym to weigh-in and get a physical check for our fight. While we were waiting for them to show up we looked out the window and saw the enemy planes flying over Pearl Harbor. The third floor was pretty high in those days.
They didn’t show up so after a while a bunch of us walked mauka [toward the direction of the mountain] on Nuuanu Avenue, and saw where a bomb fell outside the residence of some of our teammates. Later we found out three of our teammates lost their lives to the bombs.
So for a while boxing activity at the CYO gym came to a halt.
But with war breaking out there weren’t too many activities going on at night so the professional promoter started putting on Sunday daytime fights. There weren’t enough pro fighters to fill the Sunday afternoon card, so they worked it so that amateur fighters could fill in under the pros. As a result, we started training again.
About this time the Army said that ethnic Japanese fighters could only fight other ethnic Japanese fighters. So I told Bill Kim, the team manager for the CYO club, "I quit." After thinking it over, Bill told me, "You are now Tommy Wong and you’re fighting on Sunday." This is how I got the name "Tommy". [EN3] Everybody knew I was Umeda, not Wong, but nobody cared and I was only sixteen and it didn’t occur to me that maybe I should say this wasn’t right.
When we weren’t fighting on Sunday’s pro card in Honolulu, we fought at Red Hill (a big defense project involving underground fuel storage at Pearl Harbor) and sometimes at Schofield Barracks, Pearl Harbor, Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station, and other places around the island. We liked fighting at Schofield Barracks, ‘cuz they had the best grub of all bases. During wartime a lot of things were rationed, but up there you could eat all you wanted.
On January 15, 1943 I turned 18. I don’t remember the date when they called for volunteers to form the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, but on March 24, 1943 I was in the Army. I never did graduate from high school.
During our training at Camp Shelby, Mississippi, we did some boxing at the base gym. [EN4] I was in this fight with a guy from the 69th Division and he started biting my neck. Or at least everybody thought he was biting my neck. Actually he was trying to get his mouthpiece back in. But anyway people piled in the ring and it almost became a real fight. So that was the last time I boxed in the Army.
I was assigned to Company I, which was one of the best units. In Italy, Company I became famous for its involvement in the rescue of that Texas unit, the Lost Battalion, but I was in the hospital, with dysentery. I was very fortunate to miss that one, thank God.
I returned to Hawai’i in 1945 and started boxing professionally soon after. My managers included Richard "Pablo" Chinen and Henry "Moe" Oshiro, and the promoter who did the most for me was Al Schaff.
We fought all over the Territory, going to the military bases, Kauai, Hilo, places like that. A typical purse in those days was fifty dollars. That was nice, but it didn’t pay the bills, so for a job, I worked at Hickam Field as a carpenter. Hell, what do I know about carpentry. So after the first job force reduction, I got my get-lost notice.
Well, I took the hint and sold my contraption, a 1940 Desoto, packed my bags, and got myself a one-way ticket to Seattle. On the plane I sat with a guy going to Anchorage who told me that Alaskan salmon fishermen were making a pile of loot working about eight to nine months of the year. That was enough for me.
When I got off at Seattle I called my army buddy Shiro Kashino and told him about my plan. He said, "Are you crazy? Everybody there is shooting each other for jobs." So the next morning Shiro picked me up at the YMCA where I checked in and he drove me to the Boeing Airplane Company employment office and told me to go in and sign up.
After work, I went straight to the gym to train. I think it was called the Cherry Street Gym, and it was where all the professional boxers trained. Harry "Kid" Matthews was the name fighter in those parts back then.
I lost one fight out of about sixteen. That loss was to Stan Almond, the Canadian bantamweight champ, during an 8-round fight in Tacoma. Another fight, with Jackie Turner, was ruled a loss at the time. But it was so unfairly scored that three days later the Washington Boxing Commission changed the decision to a draw.
After two months Almond and I got together again for a 10-round fight in Vancouver, British Columbia. Vancouver was his hometown, so you know the chances of a buddhahead winning if the fight went the distance. But I beat him anyway.
Around then I ran into Al Schaff, who was in Seattle on his way to Los Angeles. In Seattle they were only paying $50 for a 4-round fight and $100 for a 6-round fight, so I begged Al to get me some fights in Los Angeles.
Well, he had connections with the top man in LA, namely Babe McCoy’s nephew, Sparky Rudolph. As for Rudolph’s connections, well, after a couple of fights in LA, I got called for fights in Las Vegas, Anchorage, San Jose, Mexico City…
In October 1951 they sent Freddie "Babe" Herman and me to Australia. I was supposed to fight Jimmy Carruthers, the world’s #1 bantamweight contender, but when I got there they said they never heard of me so they told me to prove myself first. I must fight Bluey Wilkins, a featherweight.
Well, I got myself into the best shape of my life and I beat Wilkins in twelve rounds. After that, Carruthers would have nothing to do with me in the ring.
After a couple months of sitting around, they matched me with Ray Coleman, who was in a weight class higher than me. During this fight, I was ahead on points, but in the seventh my bandage was hanging out of my glove, so I raised my hands to show the referee. I expected him to halt the fight while they fixed my bandage. But the referee said I quit. Bull! I was ahead on points so why would I quit?
After hanging around Australia for five months waiting to fight Jimmy Carruthers, I finally told the promoter to give me my airplane ticket home. Boy, was he glad to see me leave. To think six months later, Carruthers went to South Africa to fight Vic Toweel for the world championship, and won by knockout.
In April and June 1952 I fought Keeny Teran for the California bantamweight championship. The first time I lost, but the second time I knocked him out in seven rounds.
Fight program for the first fight with Teran.
Courtesy Tommy Umeda.
After that I went to Mexico City for a fight and it was called due to a cut. I lost a couple fights due to cuts, but was never knocked out. I think the reason is that I rode the punches. Riding the punches isn’t something you are born knowing how to do, it’s something you learn. You don’t have to have a great punch to be a fighter, but you do need to be clever, to move around. Me, I was a club fighter, a crowd-pleaser, rather than a great boxer. I gave the crowd a good show. That was what I did. And when I couldn’t do that any more I quit boxing.
After retiring from the ring I stayed in California. Usually I worked construction worker but sometimes I worked as an extra in movies. The role everybody has seen is Godzilla (1956). [EN8] The original was filmed and produced in Japan, but the American version included splices of Raymond Burr that were shot in a small studio in LA. I played a Japanese news reporter taking notes while a Japanese professor advised a press conference about plans for getting rid of Godzilla. Actually, I was writing up my scratch sheet for the horse races at Santa Anita, and as soon as the first break was called, I ran to the phone to call my bookie and place a bet.
Around Thanksgiving 1957 I went to New Mexico as the valet for professional wrestler Stanley "Oyama Kato" Mayeshiro. I liked traveling, but that was still rough work. I mean, you had to travel a couple hundred miles a day, every day, including Sundays. Worse, we were the bad guys, what they called heels. So my job was to make people hate us. I’d wear these thick glasses and pull on the referee’s leg and sometimes little old ladies would come from behind and whack me on the back with their handbags. Another time, a little kid put his ice cream cone on my seat while I was walking around harassing the referee. I sat down without looking and gave everyone a good laugh. Meanwhile Mayeshiro treated me like I really was his valet. So when we went back to LA for Christmas I told him to get somebody else.
In 1959 I got married. My wife, Maria, was born in Chile, but her family returned to Japan when she was a child. During the early 1960s we had two sons, Allen and Robin. But my parents were getting old, so in 1968 we left LA for Honolulu, as that way I could do a better job of taking care of them. In Hawai’i, I continued working in construction until the late 1980s. After that I worked part-time as a tour guide for Japanese tourists, and then I retired. Well, sort of -- weekdays I help take care of my granddaughter while her mother is at work.
Rick,Rick Farris wrote:kikibalt wrote:Rick,Rick Farris wrote:Hey Frank . . . Thanks for all the information you've posted relating to Keeny Teran (and Gil Cadilli). I know that you were friends with Teran, and you are literally filling a gap in my own knowledge of Cal Boxing history. I grew up listening to my uncle, whose favorite fighters were Aragon, Ortiz, Bolanos and Salas. My only memory of his discussing Keeny Teran related to his drug addiciton and personal troubles. Just stuff that everybody knew about, which means there is a lot of dilluted truths.
The news articals, etc. allow us to read what "reporters" had to say, which is important, however, the best is when you tell a personal story. If you can think of some insignifigant experience that took place in the gym, maybe something he did while sparring, or a discussion shared in the dressing room, or whatever?
Thanks again, Frank. This really matters to me.
-Rick
Keeny was a great guy to be around in the gym, I boxed with him at the Teamsters Gym, he was two- three years older then me and a lot better fighter then me, he would hold back on his punches and for that I would thanked him, the guy was good, you know I never knew he was doing drug until it became public, and when I found out, man was I sad.
Later on, when Frankie and Tony Turn pro he was there for all their fights at the Olympic, and him and I would sit in the back and just talk about the old days at the teamsters, I never hung around with him outside the gym, that part of his life I was not involved with, nice guy I miss him.
Frank, I know you saw Teran fight Tommy Umeda, in fact, they fought four times. This tells me that the fights must have been pretty exciting, I know Keeny won three-of-four, but that the first one was close, and the third Umeda won by TKO. Scoring for their fourth & final fight suggests that Keeny won nearly every round.
Was Teran-Umeda a good rivalry? Sometimes, as you know, two guys just are made to put on a good show, and you never know what's likely to happen. Was this case? Did you know Umeda
Keeny was a better boxer then Umeda, but Umeda was stronger and thus made for a good fight, yes I seen the 4 fights between keeny and Tommy, good action fights all 4, I seen all of keeny's fight but, for 3/4 that he had in San Jose, no I didn't know Umeda.
Re: Just testing
Rodolfo, welcome to our own little world.El Gato wrote:This is El Gato. I have not been able to post. Hours of writing have been lost. This is only a test. If it prints I'll answer all of you.