Damn, what a good looking couple! Your mother is beautiful, Randy!kikibalt wrote:Photo and caption by Randy
my parents, Andy De La O & Anita Osuna at the Avodon Ballroom in downtown L.A. January 1947. My father was 22, my mother was 17.
Thanks Randy
I see that Dado falls into the tragic and all too frequent category of 'murdered boxers' (at 49). What is the story there?kikibalt wrote:
Small Montana, Sam Sylvester and Little Dado
November 1938
Well Rog, there's a few. However, you are probably thinking of Canter's in the Fairfax district. My wife Monica worked at Art's Deli in Studio City when she first came here from Brazil. I'm not Jewish but I love Deli food. My Brazilian wife spent so much time at Art's, I can't get her inside a deli for the life of me. After we married, "No more Deli's!", she imsisted.dagosd2000 wrote:Frank,Randy,Rick
What's the name of that famous Jewish Deli in LA.? I ate there once. Greatest Pastrami sandwich I ever had. I think it's in Hollywood. Help me out. Rog
Please do, Frank!. She is in my prayers, as is all the Baltazar family. And by the way, maybe one day you and I and Randy can all meet at Philippe. If Rog is in town, better yet!kikibalt wrote:Guys, my sister that is sick, is in town from Napa visiting the family, we're having brunch today. Three months ago her doctor told her that she had two months to live, well she is still with us,
though her cancer numbers are not good, she looks good and gets around pretty good.
I'll be shooting some pics. and if you guys don't mind, I'll post some here.
Where the hell has Rob been?Boxingnut wrote:http://www.boxingnewsonline.net/BN08/detail.asp?id=582
Apologies if this has already been posted but I have only just noticed this anyway.
Doctor's are necessary, but over rated. They provide nothing more than an educated guess. The human spirit is strong and we really have only a small hint as to what the future might bring. I'm with Dagos, Chata and those little Baltazar's might be the best medicine.dagosd2000 wrote:I'm with Randy and the rest of the guys. The doctors gave my mother 2 months to live after her heart attack. She went on another 19 years! Family is something those docs don't factor when they make their prognosis. Let her play with Chata and the grandkids. They heve a healing affect. DiegoRandyman wrote:Post them Frank! Let your sister know that the guys on West Coast Boxing are praying for her!!kikibalt wrote:Guys, my sister that is sick, is in town from Napa visiting the family, we're having brunch today. Three months ago her doctor told her that she had two months to live, well she is still with us,
though her cancer numbers are not good, she looks good and gets around pretty good.
I'll be shooting some pics. and if you guys don't mind, I'll post some here.
Randy
Indeed. Randy, your parents look GOOD.Rick Farris wrote:Damn, what a good looking couple! Your mother is beautiful, Randy!kikibalt wrote:Photo and caption by Randy
my parents, Andy De La O & Anita Osuna at the Avodon Ballroom in downtown L.A. January 1947. My father was 22, my mother was 17.
Thanks Randy
-Rick
kikibalt wrote:Guys, my sister that is sick, is in town from Napa visiting the family, we're having brunch today. Three months ago her doctor told her that she had two months to live, well she is still with us,
though her cancer numbers are not good, she looks good and gets around pretty good.
I'll be shooting some pics. and if you guys don't mind, I'll post some here.
In case you are wondering about Charlie's nose, the little man with the big punch had the cartilage surgically removed early in his career, when he developed breathing problems.bennie wrote:Believe it or not, I was actually there when Charlie was given the This is your Life treatment at York Hall in 1983. It was a few weeks after Charlie had won his world title (in the days when winning a world title really meant something) and he was there at ringside lapping up the plaudits. I remember commenting to someone as to why there were so many lights over the ring. The show was non-televised. Then Charlie was introduced into the ring and all the lights came on and Eamonn Andrews suddenly appeared, dressed in boxing robe and gloves, and carrying his big red book. You know, my first reaction was "Oh f uck!"kikibalt wrote:
Charlie Magri
He may have held the WBC belt for little over six months, but as he is fond of saying: "Winning that world title has taken me a long way through life."
THE Victoria pub in Bow is a shrine to the noble art. Framed boxing photographs adorn the walls with images of everyone from Muhammad Ali to Naseem Hamed.
Yet pride of place goes to a large poster advertising a boxing bill from Wembley in March 1983 - a night when the pub's landlord, Charlie Magri, defeated Eleoncio Mercedes to become WBC flyweight champion. Now 50, Magri is slightly rounder than we remember but he remains immensely proud of his accomplishments. For a few years, at least, he regularly packed out the top London venues and made flyweight boxing sexy.
Born in the North African city of Tunis - Magri's parents were Tunisian - the future world champion moved to London's East End as a youngster.
A Millwall youth footballer, he was instantly turned on to the blood and guts of boxing and was an outstanding amateur, winning four ABA titles and competing for Great Britain in the 1976 Montreal Olympics.
Confident and cocky, Magri claims he often beat his opponents before he got into the ring. He recalls one such psychological battle at the ABA semis against Dave George. "They were all raving about this Welshman," recalls Magri. "We were waiting to go into the arena at Belle Vue and I said to him ‘You can tell your grandchildren you were knocked out by Charlie Magri'. "He just froze - you could see it in his face. He was beaten before we entered the ring." Sadly, Charlie underperformed in Montreal, exiting in the first round of the competition. In the wake of the disappointment he contemplated retirement, but Terry Lawless turned his head and offered him the chance to turn pro in 1977.
"When I first met Lawless, he said I'll be capable of winning a British title in three fights and was I ready for 15 three-minute rounds for the title? "I turned around and said, cheeky as anything, ‘How much do I get for that'?" Magri did it, too, beating Dave Smith in seven rounds at the Albert Hall to become British champion just three fights into his career. A shortage of real British talent at flyweight meant Charlie quickly had to seek overseas opposition. He lifted the European title in 1979 and after four defences Lawless finally delivered him the world title chance. Amid a highly-charged atmosphere at Wembley, there was little doubt as to the outcome. Magri dominated. "Mercedes was a really classy fighter, but I got right in to him straight away," says Magri. "There was no one left in East London - everyone had come to see me. They was no way I was going to be beaten that night. I was on such a high." In round seven the bout was stopped because of excessive cuts and Magri crowned. That's how the moniker "Champagne Charlie" stuck. Overnight, he became one the biggest sports stars in the country. His story was told on TV's This is Your Life and he enjoyed the trappings of fame and money.
Sadly, in his first defence back at Wembley he was stopped in six rounds by Filipino Frank Cedeno in a one-sided fight. The defeat still frustrates Magri because he believes he wasn't ready. "I discovered later I had a blind ball in my ear, a swelling inside the eardrum," he explains. "I went to see a Harley Street doctor after the fight and he told me.
"Cedeno was a southpaw and could punch a bit. But I didn't feel myself that night. I just didn't feel up for it." He bounced back to regain the vacant European title from Franco Cherchi of Italy, but his third and final ‘world' title bout, in 1985 at the Alexandra Palace, also ended in defeat by classy Thai Sot Chitalada. Magri rates Chitalada as one of his two finest opponents along with Argentina's future world flyweight champion Santos Laciar, whom he beat on points in a non-title 10-rounder at the Albert Hall in 1980. His eight-year professional career ended in 1986, aged 29, when future IBF flyweight champion Duke McKenzie stopped him in five rounds.
"I didn't think I'd ever get beaten by Duke," admits Magri. "But after I lost I knew it was the end and I got out as quickly as possible. I only did it [boxing] for the money." Retirement from the fight game has generally been kind to Magri. Two years before hanging up his gloves he set up Magri Sports on the Bethnal Green Road, which he ran until five years ago when he sold the premises to his daughter Emma, who now runs a beauty salon on the site.
He also has a son, Charlie Jnr, to his ex-wife and now happily shares the flat above the pub with his partner Tina, whom he has known since primary school.
He enjoyed a five-year stint as a trainer but is now landlord at The Victoria, where he puts on the occasional boxing night. Magri also acts as vice-president of the ex-London Boxers Association.
"It's amazing. Winning that world title has taken me a long way through life."
I just wanted some boxing action.
Thanks guys, when my father passed away my brother Dennis and I had to literally chase the vultures away. It was almost like having a another teenage daughter. For an updated photo go to http://randyman.myphotoalbum.com/view_p ... AnitaOsuna this picture was taken on her 78th birthday in 2007 with her great granddaughters, my granddaughters. She is now affectionately known as Grannie Annie.Rick Farris wrote:Damn, what a good looking couple! Your mother is beautiful, Randy!kikibalt wrote:Photo and caption by Randy
my parents, Andy De La O & Anita Osuna at the Avodon Ballroom in downtown L.A. January 1947. My father was 22, my mother was 17.
Thanks Randy
-Rick
Rick, I'm with you I love L.A. as well, unlike some of the other big cities Los Angeles is spread out. You have to have a car in Los Angeles to really get around. There are so many great places to see and things to do but you have to search them out. As far as food goes, you can travel the world and taste it's food and never leave L.A. On one side you have the beaches and on the other, the San Gabriel Mountains with plenty of hiking, camping and fishing to satisfy anyone. Los Angeles gets a lot of bad press, some deserved, some not deserved. To me it's home.Rick Farris wrote:My paternal Grandmother worked as a cashier at Philippe's for more than forty years. On weekends after I'd finish my morning workouts at the Main St. Gym, I'd wander down Main St. a few blocks to Philippe where Grandma would make me a sandwich. It wasn't unusual to see an up-coming welter named Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez also grabbing a bite there after his workout, as well. This was back in the mid 60's, when Lopez was fighting under Frankie Muche and competing primarily in Las Vegas. I loved the restaurant, where I coud also pick-up the latest edition of Ring Magazine at it's ancient magazine rack. I'd eat my sandwich, wash it down with Lemonade while reading The Ring cover-to-cover. I remember one day before jumping on the bus to take me back to the San Fernando Valley, I see a picture of Ernie Lopez in the Las Vegas results part of The Ring. It showed him hammering Johnnie Brooks in a bout held at the Hacienda Hotel. I took the mag over to where Indian Red was sitting and showed him the pic. Ernie was a great guy, so unassuming, he just smiled kinda shyly and thanked me. "Where did you get that?" he asked. I pointed to Philippe's magazine rack and the future welter contender walked over and bought a copy for himself.kikibalt wrote:The story behind Philippe's and its famous French dip
Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times
The well-known downtown L.A. eatery Philippe the Original will celebrate its 100th year in business on Oct. 6 by selling its French dipped sandwiches for a dime -- their price when they first appeared on the menu in 1918. Philippe's will also sell coffee for a nickel, half its regular price.
The Los Angeles landmark will celebrate its centennial Monday with dignitaries, the founder's grandson and slashed prices.
Steve Harvey, Only in L.A.
Philippe's, home of the French dip sandwich, turns 100 this year, and for much of the last century local historians and foodies have been arguing over one question: How was the dish created?
Was it the brainstorm of a customer who didn't want to see the juice in the roast pan go to waste? Was it an accident -- a server dropped a dry sandwich into the pan and found that the patron liked the result? Or was it conceived at Cole's, a rival downtown eatery, for a gent who had sore gums?
You can't go back in time to ask Philippe "Frenchy" Mathieu, the founder of Philippe's. But you can journey to that era, price-wise, on Monday when the North Alameda Street restaurant throws a centennial bash.
From 4 to 8 p.m., sandwiches (normally $5.35 to $6.50) will sell for 10 cents, and coffee (normally 9 cents) will be reduced to a nickel. (Tips of more than 20% for the servers might be in order this day.)
KCET-TV Channel 28 storyteller Huell Howser will emcee the show, Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and other politicos will speechify, the USC band will march through, and Roger "the Peanut Man" Owens of Dodger Stadium will toss bags of goobers to hopefully attentive folks waiting in line.
Also on hand will be 64-year-old Philippe Guilhem of Alva, Okla., grandson of founder Mathieu. And he knows the story of the birth of the French dip from his namesake.
Guilhem, who was located several months ago through a chance meeting at an art gallery between his relatives and those of the current owners of Philippe's, tells it this way:
"One day a fireman complained that his roll was stale. It was probably a Monday and the roll was a leftover from the weekend. My grandfather was a thrifty person. He said, 'Give me the damn thing back.' He dipped it in the juices and said, 'You happy now?' "
The fireman was happy.
Added Guilhem with a laugh: "I'm sure the guy had already bitten into it when my grandfather grabbed it and dipped it in the juice. Real sanitary. But that was S.O.P. [standard operating procedure] back then."
It wasn't called a French dip right away, either. "People would just say, 'Put it in the sauce like Frenchy does,' " Guilhem said.
Stale rolls, of course, are no longer served. But tradition in other areas is important to Richard and John Binder, whose family purchased the restaurant from Mathieu in 1927. Hence the sawdust- covered floors, the painted menus, the ceiling fans, the old-fashioned setup of stools at long tables, the wooden telephone booths.
And you can still leave your credit cards at home.
Mathieu, being a Frenchman, would have no ketchup on the premises, and the Binders honored the ban in full until 1991, when Richard persuaded his brother John to set out bottles of the stuff in the morning.
"I like ketchup on my eggs," Richard explained without a trace of guilt. "But the ketchup disappears at 10:30 [a.m.]. We think it overwhelms the flavor of the meat."
Philippe's has all but given away coffee ever since it opened. It was a nickel as late as 1977 and skyrocketed to a dime in 1991. It was dropped to the present 9 cents a few years later when a state snack tax was passed. That way the full price is still only 10 cents.
Philippe's sells about 2,200 sandwiches a day on weekdays, 3,800 a day on weekends. (Lots of pickled pigs feet too, but you probably don't want to hear about that.)
Customers wait in lines that are sometimes 20 people deep, shuffling toward the counters. Regulars know a secret: One of the middle lines has less of a wait because it splits off into two shorter lines when it dead-ends at a pillar.
A first-time visitor often gives himself away when he attempts to pay the server directly. She will refuse the money, which must be placed in a red tray next to the food tray. The server then takes it to the cashier and returns with the change, never having touched the filthy lucre. (This sanitary measure was put into use after the less-fastidious Frenchy had sold out.)
Philippe's has been in its current digs up the street from Union Station since 1951, when its previous location on Aliso Street was flattened to make room for the Santa Ana Freeway.
During the demolition, an empty beer keg was found in a hollowed-out section of wall on the second floor. Turns out a room had been rented to a bootlegger, who was said to have moved to Spain with a $40,000 nest egg.
Of course, Mathieu was no teetotaler.
"He used to make his own wine during Prohibition," Guilhem said. "He told me city officials used to come by and pick up their bottles. He hinted he made a little brandy too."
The current building has a bit of racy history itself. Originally, it housed a machine shop on the first floor and a hotel on the second. The second floor (now a dining area) has numerous doorways, indicating that the rooms were very small. The place was in L.A.'s red-light district of the early 1900s.
"You hear stories," Richard Binder said.
The funny thing about the landmark restaurant is, here it is 100 years old, and its founder's French name is still being mispronounced. It's fuh-LEEP. But a lot of folks seem to think it is of Spanish origin and call it fuh-LEE-pay.
"That's the way I pronounce it," Richard Binder said with a laugh. "I guess it's because I never took French in school."
[email protected]
I love L.A.!!!!!!
-Rick
Thanks BruceBobbin & Weavin wrote:Meeting the guys at the coffee shop...
I read this thread every day, more than once, more than twice, from work and from home, but Sunday morning is the day I meet the guys at the coffee shop. I go down to the coffee shop, pick up my wife's mocha and my large coffee, come home, give my wife her mocha and tell her I'm going to "meet the guys at the coffee shop"; she knows what I mean it's logging on to this thread, reviewing everything that has been posted in the past week and anything new. Frank's pictures from everything from boxing to farm working to old cars, Rick's "do you remember when" stories, dagos stories from school, the mob, Tijuana and maybe a new painting he just finished and so much more. You guys are the guys at the coffee shop; it's the best personal time of the week for me, a few minutes away from work, away from the family, away from the daily grind.
This week all of the great pictures and stories about James J. Jeffries, the stories about the old ball rooms, and the Philippe and the beautiful pictures everyone shares of their families and their past. Just like we are all sitting around at a great old coffee shop, drinking our coffee and talking about all of this. Today Randy brought a picture of his parents on their first date, he didn't really have to tell us that his dad was madly in love with his mom, we could see it in his face; just look at her who wouldn't be!
Now Hap has joined us and when he speaks we all lean forward in our chairs so we don't miss a word he says, Frank updates us about a visit from his sister, we all know how sick she is and we nod and keep our fingers crossed that she gets better and we know Frank is hurting inside. The running from the bull while fishing story helps break up the sadness. We are connected by one common link and that is the love for boxing but we have so much more in common...you either get that or you don't...we do.
Well guys I gotta get going, gonna stop at a little car show on the way home, and go into the City this afternoon to watch the Niners game with my father...have a great day, see ya next week.
Bobbin & Weavin
Bruce
PugExpug wrote:Shes in the Higgins familiy prayers .Randyman wrote:Post them Frank! Let your sister know that the guys on West Coast Boxing are praying for her!!kikibalt wrote:Guys, my sister that is sick, is in town from Napa visiting the family, we're having brunch today. Three months ago her doctor told her that she had two months to live, well she is still with us,
though her cancer numbers are not good, she looks good and gets around pretty good.
I'll be shooting some pics. and if you guys don't mind, I'll post some here.
Randy
I will light a candle for her at Church.
On my way to work today I will stop at St Stanislaus Kostka.
Hey RandyRick Farris wrote:Damn, what a good looking couple! Your mother is beautiful, Randy!kikibalt wrote:Photo and caption by Randy
my parents, Andy De La O & Anita Osuna at the Avodon Ballroom in downtown L.A. January 1947. My father was 22, my mother was 17.
Thanks Randy
-Rick
Just give me a call.Rick Farris wrote:Please do, Frank!. She is in my prayers, as is all the Baltazar family. And by the way, maybe one day you and I and Randy can all meet at Philippe. If Rog is in town, better yet!kikibalt wrote:Guys, my sister that is sick, is in town from Napa visiting the family, we're having brunch today. Three months ago her doctor told her that she had two months to live, well she is still with us,
though her cancer numbers are not good, she looks good and gets around pretty good.
I'll be shooting some pics. and if you guys don't mind, I'll post some here.
-Rick
Randy called it. Cantors. The food was great,but something from that day bothered me. I don't know what happened,but an older waitress was ripping this new waitress apart in front of everyone. It had something to do with the way she serviced a table. I felt bad for the young kid.Rick Farris wrote:Well Rog, there's a few. However, you are probably thinking of Canter's in the Fairfax district. My wife Monica worked at Art's Deli in Studio City when she first came here from Brazil. I'm not Jewish but I love Deli food. My Brazilian wife spent so much time at Art's, I can't get her inside a deli for the life of me. After we married, "No more Deli's!", she imsisted.dagosd2000 wrote:Frank,Randy,Rick
What's the name of that famous Jewish Deli in LA.? I ate there once. Greatest Pastrami sandwich I ever had. I think it's in Hollywood. Help me out. Rog
-Rick
The best I could come up with is How nice (or sweet) the dark corn is. Other than that I don't have a clue. I'm a pocho of the highest order.dagosd2000 wrote:Hey RandyRick Farris wrote:Damn, what a good looking couple! Your mother is beautiful, Randy!kikibalt wrote:Photo and caption by Randy
my parents, Andy De La O & Anita Osuna at the Avodon Ballroom in downtown L.A. January 1947. My father was 22, my mother was 17.
Thanks Randy
-Rick
Frank asked me what I meant by this old Mexican saying.
"Que chulada es el maiz prieto."
Do you know? Rog
Pretty damn good.raylawpc wrote:I'll bite.
Literally, it means, "How beautiful [gorgeous / delighful] is the dark corn." But I think the expression is used as a metaphor to describe the beauty of a Mexican woman.
Pretty good for a Swede, huh?
Beautifully and accurately expressed Bruce. We all seem to share a common bond. We all love boxing. We understand and respect boxing. Something that slowly is slipping away. I don't think there is a better boxing thread on the internet. Thanks for the great read Bruce.Bobbin & Weavin wrote:Meeting the guys at the coffee shop...
I read this thread every day, more than once, more than twice, from work and from home, but Sunday morning is the day I meet the guys at the coffee shop. I go down to the coffee shop, pick up my wife's mocha and my large coffee, come home, give my wife her mocha and tell her I'm going to "meet the guys at the coffee shop"; she knows what I mean it's logging on to this thread, reviewing everything that has been posted in the past week and anything new. Frank's pictures from everything from boxing to farm working to old cars, Rick's "do you remember when" stories, dagos stories from school, the mob, Tijuana and maybe a new painting he just finished and so much more. You guys are the guys at the coffee shop; it's the best personal time of the week for me, a few minutes away from work, away from the family, away from the daily grind.
This week all of the great pictures and stories about James J. Jeffries, the stories about the old ball rooms, and the Philippe and the beautiful pictures everyone shares of their families and their past. Just like we are all sitting around at a great old coffee shop, drinking our coffee and talking about all of this. Today Randy brought a picture of his parents on their first date, he didn't really have to tell us that his dad was madly in love with his mom, we could see it in his face; just look at her who wouldn't be!
Now Hap has joined us and when he speaks we all lean forward in our chairs so we don't miss a word he says, Frank updates us about a visit from his sister, we all know how sick she is and we nod and keep our fingers crossed that she gets better and we know Frank is hurting inside. The running from the bull while fishing story helps break up the sadness. We are connected by one common link and that is the love for boxing but we have so much more in common...you either get that or you don't...we do.
Well guys I gotta get going, gonna stop at a little car show on the way home, and go into the City this afternoon to watch the Niners game with my father...have a great day, see ya next week.
Bobbin & Weavin
Bruce
Pretty damn good indeed. I did figure out the words but didn't catch the metaphor. Tom or should I say Tomas, you put this Chicano to shame ( I'm hanging my head in shame).dagosd2000 wrote:Pretty damn good.raylawpc wrote:I'll bite.
Literally, it means, "How beautiful [gorgeous / delighful] is the dark corn." But I think the expression is used as a metaphor to describe the beauty of a Mexican woman.
Pretty good for a Swede, huh?
RandyRandyman wrote:Pretty damn good indeed. I did figure out the words but didn't catch the metaphor. Tom or should I say Tomas, you put this Chicano to shame ( I'm hanging my head in shame).dagosd2000 wrote:Pretty damn good.raylawpc wrote:I'll bite.
Literally, it means, "How beautiful [gorgeous / delighful] is the dark corn." But I think the expression is used as a metaphor to describe the beauty of a Mexican woman.
Pretty good for a Swede, huh?
Randy
Frankkikibalt wrote:
My sister Rachel
My uncle Louie, who is 93 years young
Rachel and uncle Louie
