Classic American West Coast Boxing

[kikibalt]

Photos and caption by Diego


Ring at 4 Points Sheraton


Bobby D. Promotor


Two good friends Joe Brosz and Jose Cobian,referee


A legend Johnny "The Bandit" Romero, beat the Mongoose


James "The Heat" Kinchin


Melissa, Coors Light Girl and Ring Card Girl. Very Sexy

[bennie]

Photos and caption by Diego


Ring at 4 Points Sheraton


Bobby D. Promotor


Two good friends Joe Brosz and Jose Cobian,referee


A legend Johnny "The Bandit" Romero, beat the Mongoose


James "The Heat" Kinchin


Melissa, Coors Light Girl and Ring Card Girl. Very Sexy

Kinchen looks OK. He was a world class fighter with a world class wet-look.
Bobby D looks like something out of Madame Tussauds.

[bennie]

Hey, Frankie! Check out this dame, a 54-year-old:

[kikibalt]

“THE HITMAN” HAS LANDED IN LAS VEGAS TO FINALIZE HIS PREPARATIONS FOR HIS NOVEMBER 22 WORLD TITLE BOUT AGAINST MALIGNAGGI AT MGM GRAND

LAS VEGAS (October 23) - Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton has made his way to the United States, landing in Las Vegas late last week as he continues preparations for his November 22 Ring Magazine World Junior Welterweight Championship bout against New York’s Paulie “The Magic Man” Malignaggi at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas. This plans to be a clash between the two best 140-pound fighters in the world and one of the most intriguing and exciting fights of 2008.

Hatton vs. Malignaggi is a scheduled 12-round battle for Hatton’s Ring Magazine and IBO Junior Welterweight titles and presented by Golden Boy Promotions in association with Punch Promotions and DiBella Entertainment, and sponsored by Affliction Clothing and Cerveza Tecate. The world title bout will air live on HBO’s World Championship Boxing.

Tickets priced at $1,000, $750, $500, $300 and $150 are still available at any MGM Grand box office outlet and at all Las Vegas Ticketmaster locations (select Smith’s Food and Drug Centers and Ritmo Latino). To charge by phone with a major credit card, call Ticketmaster at (702) 474-4000. Tickets also are available for purchase at www.mgmgrand.com or www.ticketmaster.com.

Hatton, who switched trainers earlier this year, selecting highly respected American trainer Floyd Mayweather, Sr. as the new man in charge, will finish his last month of training in Las Vegas, a place he is familiar and comfortable with having fought his last three fights in the entertainment capital of the world.

“It’s great to be back in Las Vegas and get down to business with Floyd Mayweather, Sr. for my fight against Malignaggi on November 22,” said Hatton. “Floyd was with me in Manchester and we are already comfortable working with each other. He’s a great trainer and everything feels great. It’s the best two junior welterweights in the world and it should make for a great fight.”

Mayweather, Sr. said, “Hatton is a very good fighter and I think I can add to his arsenal of abilities. We are now in Las Vegas where we can finish getting ready for Malignaggi. He will be sharp and ready to go fight night.”

An international superstar hailing from Manchester, England, the storied career of Hatton (44-1, 31 KOs) began in 1997 and for the last 11 years, he has been thrilling fight fans around the world with his aggressive style in the ring and down to earth attitude outside of it. Owner of wins over Kostya Tszyu, Vince Phillips, Luis Collazo, Jose Luis Castillo and Juan Urango, Hatton - a two division world champion - fell short of the pound-for-pound and world welterweight championships in his 2007 super fight against Floyd Mayweather. However, the 29-year-old bounced back impressively at his natural weight of 140 pounds in May as he scored a near shutout 12-round unanimous decision over Juan Lazcano.

Known for his flashy style and pound-for-pound ability to out-talk any fighter in the world, Brooklyn’s Malignaggi (25-1, 5 KOs) has also developed a positive reputation for his heart and determination to overcome adversity throughout his seven-year pro career. A dazzling boxer with a stiff jab, lightning speed and quick combinations, the 27-year-old gained a legion of fans for his gutsy effort in a 12-round defeat at the hands of Miguel Cotto in 2006, and even more followers jumped on his bandwagon when he nearly shut out Lovemore N’dou in 2007 to win the IBF Junior Welterweight World crown. Malignaggi has since defended his title against Herman Ngoudjo and in a rematch against N’dou, but a victory over Hatton is what this New Yorker is truly seeking.

For room packages and availability and event information at MGM Grand, call (800) 929-1111 or (702) 891-7777 or log onto the World Wide Web at www.mgmgrand.com

[kikibalt]

by Norm Frauenheim
spam

ThisArizona Boxing must change it’s work visa rules - Part 1

Unknown Jorge Marquez, unbeaten and undocumented, works nights to support a wife and four young kids. By day, he trains at a Phoenix gym for what he hopes will be his real job.

But Marquez is an apprentice without a trade, which is another way of saying he is an immigrant without papers or a potential purse because of the biggest fight these days in Arizona, once a busy and productive boxing market.

“There are a lot of guys, guys like me, wanting to fight,’’ Marquez, a junior-welterweight, said during a workout at Central Boxing near downtown Phoenix. “It’s not that they’re afraid to fight. It’s that they can’t. They don’t let us. We’re not legally here.’’

Actually, Marquez has been here, here in Arizona, for most of his life. He met his wife, a U.S. citizen, in Phoenix. Now 22, he has lived, gone to school and worked in Arizona since he arrived from his birthplace in the Mexican state of Chihuahua as a 3-year-old. But Marquez (3-0, 1 KO) hasn’t fought since a Phoenix card in June, 2007 because of immigration legislation that makes a work visa mandatory for any fighter from Mexico or Mars or anywhere other than the U.S. No work visa means no license from the Arizona State Boxing Commission.

The Arizona process ends right there in first-round stoppage that some say has put the sport in jeopardy in a state that is home to Hall of Famer Michael Carbajal and has loomed significantly in fights for Antonio Margarito, Juan Manuel Marquez, Julio Cesar Chavez, Oscar De La Hoya and Rafael Marquez in a legendary lineage that goes all the way back to late icon Salvador Sanchez.

“Right now, in my mind, Arizona is the toughest place in the U.S. to do boxing,’’ said Eric Gomez, vice-president and chief matchmaker for De La Hoya’s company, Golden Boy Promotions.

Both expense and bureaucracy are increasingly turning Arizona into a state that lot of promoters might want to avoid, despite a big Mexican and Mexican-American audience. In nearby states, there are fewer bureaucratic steps and none of the attorney fees that are the part of the price of having to jump through all those regulatory hoops. There is California, Nevada, Texas, and New Mexico.

Arizona’s crackdown on illegal immigration means that pro boxers are like any other laborer who has crossed the state’s southern border in search of a paycheck. Once, boxers could get a tourist visa, simple and quick, in a step for a license to fight on an Arizona card. Legislation that is also supposed to target employers, however, has led to a laborious and often expensive pursuit of a working visa simply called a P-1.

“The problem is that they don’t give a P-1 to just anybody,’’ Gomez said a couple of weeks ago before a Golden Boy card at Desert Diamond Casino, south of Tucson and just a few days of road work north of the border. “You have to have sponsor, first of all. You have to have a letter form an employee or a major company.

“But having that latter doesn’t mean you’re going to get that visa. There is still an approval process.’’

By then, Gomez said, the promoter could have a bill of between $3,000 and $5,000 in attorney fees and still no visa for a four-round fighter whose purse might be $1,000.

“It doesn’t make sense,’’ said Gomez, who has been putting together cards at Desert Diamond for the last few years. “It has been very, very difficult. I mean, we’ve had the hardest time making matches here.’’

It’s been so difficult that Golden Boy canceled a bout at Desert Diamond in early August featuring David Lopez of Nogales on Mexican side of the border against Samuel Miller of Colombia. Miller was granted a P-1 visa, but not in time for a scheduled middleweight bout with Lopez, who is popular in southern Arizona.

“We paid $3,500,’’ Gomez said. “We got Miller his visa. He went to the embassy in Colombia. We figured he had that visa. We had the date. But, no, the embassy said: ‘We don’t do it that way anymore. We don’t just give you your visa. We’ll mail it to you in about a month. That’s why we had to cancel.’’

Miller finally got the visa and a res-scheduled date with Lopez, who beat him at Desert Diamond on Oct. 10. By then, however, Golden Boy was leery of the process. A backup, a Lopez stand-in, was lined up just in case. But that didn’t work either, despite the best efforts from ringside commentator Ahmed Santos, who in the 1990s emigrated from Mexico to Carbajal’s Ninth Street Gym and won a junior-welterweight title. Mexican middleweight Humberto Corral had agreed to fight Lopez if, for some reason, Miller could not. But Corral could not get a working visa.

“It has impacted boxing a lot,’’ said John Montano, longtime chief of the Arizona State Boxing Commission.

Montano estimates that the legislation has cut the pool of available fighters for Arizona cards by 30 to 40 percent. But the Arizona commission has no count on the number of fighters who have been turned away because they failed to get a working visa. The process stops with immigration authorities before it ever reaches the next step – an application for a boxing license, according the Montano.

“It is serious business,’’ Montano said.

But some say it is also unnecessarily draconian. Roger Woods, the best matchmaker in Arizona, says the new legislation is hurting everybody.

“It’s real bad, because the kids from the other side can’t come and make some money,’’ said Woods, who runs a Tucson gym and has worked as an assistant matchmaker for Golden Boy. “I think something should be worked out where they can come across and fight here. That P-1 is hard to get. It’s costly. A lot of these kids can hardly afford a passport, much less a visa.

“Even if you have the money, you have to get an appointment. They want to know why. You gotta be working. You gotta have a bank account. You gotta show you’re paying rent. You gotta show you have a job in Mexico before you come across. All of that. There just should be some way for these kids to come across and let them fight, because they are only trying to make a living.’’

But north of Tucson in Phoenix – Maricopa County – there is fear of Sheriff Joe Arpaio and his unannounced raids of work places and neighborhoods in an attempt to round-up as many undocumented immigrants and headlines as possible. None of the immigrant fighters want to get caught up in the sweep. They are afraid to go to another state, say California, to fight. Jorge Marquez, who is not related to the Juan Manuel and Rafael brothers, said there might be questions – potential legal problems — if he applied for a license in California without having an active one in Arizona.

Despite his dreams for a ring career, he said he can’t go to Mexico to fight, either.

“If I went there, I wouldn’t be here,’’ said Marquez, who said his mom was deported when he was 16, eight years ago. “I couldn’t get back.’’

Marquez sounds a little bit like Arizona boxing. It can’t go anywhere either

Editor’s Note: On Monday, Bart Barry will look at how Arizona immigration law got to this point, and what will happen if no change is made

[kikibalt]

Hey, Frankie! Check out this dame, a 54-year-old:

"WOW" thats all I can say...

[bennie]

Hey, Frankie! Check out this dame, a 54-year-old:

"WOW" thats all I can say...

She's widowed, and looking for 'adventure'. Seriously.

[kikibalt]

Hey, Frankie! Check out this dame, a 54-year-old:

"WOW" thats all I can say...

She's widowed, and looking for 'adventure'. Seriously.

So, what're you waiting for?!!.....

[kikibalt]

I'm going to take a shower and go get some manudo con pata....

[bennie]

I've been messaging her. She reads them but doesn't answer. Damn shame.
Perhaps I shouldn't have sent that message, "Jesus! Your tits are massive."

[Randyman]

I'm going to take a shower and go get some manudo con pata....

After looking at that photo Frank, you better make that a cold shower. Ice cold!

[bennie]

Well, the tone of this thread has just plummeted.

[Randyman]

Ernie "Red' Lopez

That is an awesome photo!

An awesome man. In 1969, his little brother Danny came to L.A. and stayed with his older brother and wife. Danny began training under Howie Steindler that year, he was 17, my age. Ernie introduced us, Howie suggested we train together, and from that day on, Danny and I boxed at the Main St. Gym, on and off up to his winning the title. Ernie was a favorite of mine and my dad's. What a great fighter he was. He came up during the era of the great Mantequilla Napoles, and guys like Griffith, Pruitt, Hedge Lewis. "Indian Red" was everybody's kind of fighter, nobody had a problem watching Ernie Lopez in action, his fights defined the era and his place in both L.A. and world boxing history. And Danny? Man, what more can one say about a true fighter? I truly believe that a guy like Danny Lopez would have been world class in any era. He had the heart, the punch ,the instincts and toughness to stand in with anybody, and be the last one standing when it's all over.

-Rick Farris

Rick, we like the same fighters and we like them for the same reasons. Some fighters may never win a title but they are champions none the less. Errnie was also one of my father's favorite. I wrote the following a while back on my website.


When I saw this photo of Ernie “Indian Red” Lopez recently, I couldn’t help but be moved. You can still see the fighter’s determination, but you can also see the pain of a hard life, whether by his own choosing, or by fate, circumstances and life. I wonder if he realizes just how vital a part of California’s boxing history he is, especially to Los Angeles boxing history, which has become, arguably the best fight town in the country, in terms of a fan base, and in it’s rich contribution to boxing in general. Lopez was inducted into the California Boxing Hall of Fame on March 6, 2004, and he certainly deserved it. Thanks to Don Fraser for making sure it happened.

Ernie “Indian Red” Lopez began his professional career on January 1, 1964, winning a 6 round decision over Armand Laurenco, at The Castaway Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. They would fight two more times, drawing in the second fight, and Lopez stopping him in their third fight in the first round of a ten round fight. He fought his last fight against future welterweight champion John H. Stracey on October 29, 1974 at the Royal Albert Hall in Kensington, London. He was stopped in the seventh round of a scheduled 10 round fight. In between those two fights he fought the likes of Armando Muniz, Jose “Mantequilla” Napoles, Emile Griffith and Hedgemon Lewis. Lopez and Lewis had three fights, with Lopez stopping Lewis twice, and losing a decision in the second fight. He was a mainstay at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, and in the Hotel arenas in Las Vegas. His career record reads: 60 fights with 47 wins, 23 of them by KO, he lost 12 times and he drew once. Not too shabby.

For reasons of his own Ernie seemingly dropped off the planet, beginning in the 1970’s he hitchhiked and roamed the country, coming back from time to time to visit with his family, however briefly. In the early 1990’s he disappeared completely. The family had no idea if Ernie was dead or alive, until early 2004, with the help of the Los Angeles Police Department, he was found in the Presbyterian Night Shelter in Fort Worth, Texas.

Any fight fan knows that Ernie is the older brother of Danny “Little Red” Lopez. I hope that they have reconciled any differences they may have had. One was a champ, one wasn’t. Two different fighters, two different weight classes, completely different opponents, one should not reflect on the other. With or without an official title Ernie “Indian Red” Lopez will a always be a champ to his many fans. He always fought with heart and was crowd favorite. If ever a boxer’s life and career called out for movie to be made, it’s Lopez’. I can’t imagine a more compelling story. We are proud that he is one of Los Angeles’ Greats!

[Randyman]

Hey, Frankie! Check out this dame, a 54-year-old:

"WOW" thats all I can say...

She's widowed, and looking for 'adventure'. Seriously.

I have to go along with Frank. "Wow", though in her case that's two big "WOWS".

[Randyman]

Are you allowed to walk down those flood channels, Frankie?

Don't know if you are allowed, but my friends and I did as kids, we used to play in the river, ride bikes, horses, never drove a car in the river though.

I've been down there a few times too when I was a kid. Except for perhaps a city vehicle, I have never seen any cars down there. I thinks that's just in the movies.

[bennie]

...Kevin Finnegan was found dead today at the age of 60. Kevin wandered around aimlessly for years (like Ernie), getting drunk and sleeping rough, although he clearly owned a house, which is where he was found by police.

[scartissue]

...Kevin Finnegan was found dead today at the age of 60. Kevin wandered around aimlessly for years (like Ernie), getting drunk and sleeping rough, although he clearly owned a house, which is where he was found by police.

Bennie, it seems like yesterday I was reading of his exploits against Sterling, Bouttier, Minter (3 times), Kalule, Tonna (twice), Sibson and Hagler (twice). He fought the top dogs of his day and will be remembered by true boxing fans for it.

Scartissue

[kikibalt]

Rick, I knew what it was, I didn't want to say anything because I spent two days there before it was close....

LOL! I was too young to know the Lincoln Heights building as a Jail, but I can feel the ghosts when I ride up that creeky old elevator knowing that my friend had died in the pit (or where the body was found with it's head cracked open). Those walls are cold, of course, so are the walls of L.A. County, and I do have first hand experience of what that place. No mas.

-Ricardo

Rick, I too was a guest of L.A. county (Wayside), more then once let me tell you, when I was young I wouldn't/couldn't pay my traffic tickets, so I would end up behind bars, but no need to be shame or sorry, I just see it as a chapter in my life journey....'Asi es, asi serd'

[kikibalt]

...Kevin Finnegan was found dead today at the age of 60. Kevin wandered around aimlessly for years (like Ernie), getting drunk and sleeping rough, although he clearly owned a house, which is where he was found by police.

May he R.I.P

[Randyman]

...Kevin Finnegan was found dead today at the age of 60. Kevin wandered around aimlessly for years (like Ernie), getting drunk and sleeping rough, although he clearly owned a house, which is where he was found by police.

Sorry to hear about that. My condolences to his family, friends and fans.

[kikibalt]

I've been messaging her. She reads them but doesn't answer. Damn shame.
Perhaps I shouldn't have sent that message, "Jesus! Your tits are massive."

She don't answer? just say MONEY and she might come runnig....

[kikibalt]

Email from Pat Docusen Maddox

Hi Everyone,

Bernard Fernandez, a sportswriter out east, wrote an excellent article on my dad. There is also a picture of my dad at the California Boxing Hall of Fame. It is on the first page. Please read as soon as you can as I don't know how long it will be posted.

Here is the web site:

www.thesweetscience.com


Patricia Docusen Maddox



Fernandez has lobbied furiously on behalf of the Big Duke, seen here at the California Boxing Hall of Fame induction. Boxing has bonded the writer and his father, even after his father's passing.

Boxing Bonds Fathers And Sons
By Bernard Fernandez

My religious beliefs hold that certain matters must be taken on faith. Faith, I was told as a child in catechism class, can move mountains. You must be able to believe what you cannot always see.

What faith doesn’t always sway, I found out years later, are nominating committees for various boxing Halls of Fame.

My life-long love of boxing was conferred upon me, like an early gift, by my late father, Bernard “Jack” Fernandez Sr., a former fighter who had many, many amateur bouts but only two as a pro, both in 1944 when his destroyer escort, in home port from the war against the Japanese in the Pacific theater, was undergoing repairs in San Diego. Fighting on Archie Moore undercards in each instance, Dad went 1-0-1. A framed poster publicizing his Aug. 18 six-rounder with Jimmy Hatmaker – Archie Moore’s name, of course, is much more prominently displayed for the Mongoose’s main event with Jimmie Hayden – is framed and hangs in my office at home. It has always been my proudest possession, more of a family heirloom than a sports collectible.

Growing up, I used to fantasize that, had not the bombing of Pearl Harbor brought about America’s entry into World War II, and transformed my father into a fighting man of a different sort, Dad would have gone on to become a great welterweight. Some of the yellowed newspaper clippings that were passed on to me by my mother suggest that, at the very least, he must have been entertaining to watch. One describes him as a “wild-hooking slugger,” while another details his emphatic knockout of a Utah amateur champion who had not been stopped in 75 fights.

Dad survived naval battles, kamikaze attacks and, in what he said was the most fearful time of the war for him, a typhoon on open water that tossed his small vessel about like a cork in a tempest. But the global conflict ended and Dad, like so many ex-servicemen, went home to an uncertain future.

That future, as it turned out, did not include the resumption of his boxing career. Although only in his late-20s, he seemed to sense that his time for making it in the fight racket had passed, and, besides, my mother did not want her husband-to-be to engage in anything as presumably dangerous as boxing. So Dad became a cop, where opponents sometimes come armed with knives and guns instead of gloved fists.

Go figure.

Apart from an assortment of obligatory street fights in our working-class neighborhood, I did not follow in my father’s footsteps, as a boxer or as a policeman. But I became a sportswriter, and when I took over the boxing beat at the Philadelphia Daily News in 1987 I know it pleased Dad immensely. It was his vicarious entry back into a world he left so many years earlier, and it made even more fertile the sort of common ground that forever bonds fathers and sons. I would cover a fight, he would watch it on television, and later we’d talk at length about what each of us had seen.

There are some debts you can never repay, but I did try to give back to Dad some of what he had passed on to me. I took him on working boxing trips to Las Vegas and London – his one and only European adventure – and, once, I had ring announcer Ed Derian introduce him to the audience at the Blue Horizon when he and my mother were visiting my family in Philadelphia. Dad said I shouldn’t have made such a fuss about singling him out, but I suspect he secretly was pleased.

Retired New Orleans police captain Bernard Fernandez Sr. passed away on March 4, 1994, opening a wound in my heart that has never fully healed. Even now, after a particularly memorable boxing event, I find myself reaching for the telephone so that I might call him to talk things over and get his take on what had transpired. But our conversations are only imaginary now, more like prayers offered up by the son on earth to the father whom I sincerely believe has passed on to his well-deserved eternal reward.

If only I could speak to Dad like I used to, about something that happened earlier this year that surely would have drawn us even closer than we had always been. The California Boxing Hall of Fame inducted the Docusen brothers, Bernard and Maxie, in June, in the process officially affirming something my father had told me from the time I could differentiate between Carmen Basilio and Carmen Miranda, the star of all those MGM musicals in which she sang and danced with a pile of fruit on her head.

“Bernard Docusen,” Dad would say, “was maybe the best fighter ever to come out of New Orleans. He almost beat the great Sugar Ray Robinson when Robinson was as close as it ever gets to invincible. If they had had three or four versions of the welterweight championship back then like they do now, he would have been a world champion for sure. Bernard Docusen was beautiful to watch. I wish you could have seen him.”

My father never lied to me, about anything, so why should I doubt him about something of which he was so absolutely convinced? So, with due diligence, I did what I could to investigate the slick-boxing Filipino-American kid known as “Big Duke.” Docusen compiled a 72-10-6 record, with 21 knockouts, from 1944 to ’53. There was that loss on points to Robinson for the welterweight championship, of course, but Docusen had more than his share of notable victories.

Gene Engel, writing about Robinson-Docusen in the September 1948 issue of The Ring magazine, was impressed by the skill and courage exhibited by the challenger.

“Docusen proved a foeman worthy of Robinson’s keenest steel,” Engel observed in the flowery manner of the era. “The flashy Filipino was not daunted in the least by Robinson’s reputation … For 10 rounds Docusen fought Robinson on fairly even terms, and there was little to choose.” But Sugar Ray knocked Docusen down with a left hook in the 11th round, and assumed command the rest of the way to score a 15-round unanimous decision.

A few years ago, The Ring magazine came out with an article about the 15 greatest fighters never to have won a world title. No. 1 on the list was Charley Burley, which was hardly a surprise. A rawhide-tough Philly middleweight, Bennie Briscoe, also made the cut. But Bernard Docusen didn’t draw a mention.

The next time I saw Nigel Collins, editor of The Ring, I pleaded Docusen’s case as ardently as my father might have. The difference, of course, is that Dad had seen Docusen; I hadn’t. And neither, as it turned out, had Nigel, a ring historian who admitted to not having much familiarity with the object of my fascination.

I was still reveling in the induction of Bernard Docusen, now 82, and his 79-year-old lightweight brother Maxsie (72-7-3, 26 KOs) into the World Boxing Hall of Fame when an acquaintance, familiar with my semi-obsession with “Big Duke,” alerted me to the publication of his memoirs, as told to his daughter, Patricia Docusen-Maddox. But the big lure for me was that, with the purchase of the self-published book, I would receive DVDs of Bernard Docusen’s June 28, 1948, challenge of the great Sugar Ray in Chicago’s Comiskey Stadium and his May 4, 1949, bout with Frankie Fernandez (no relation) in Honolulu.

This was my chance to find out, once and for all, if my faith in a fighter I had never seen was justified or misplaced.

OK, so maybe it wasn’t the same as catching a glimpse of the burning bush, or the Red Sea parting. Truth be told, my faith in Bernard Docusen came with caveats because there was always a chance that some of what had passed from Dad’s lips to my ears had somehow been lost in translation. But those DVDs revealed enough of Bernard Docusen’s ring generalship and fighting heart to convince me that all these years of detached admiration, borne of a son’s unshakable trust in his father’s word, had not been in vain.

Before me is my unfilled ballot for the Class of 2009 for induction into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in Canastota, N.Y. There are 45 names listed in the modern category, reserved for fighters whose last bout was no earlier than 1943. Bernard Docusen’s name is not included. But who knows? With the resurgence in popularity of the Filipino fighter – Manny Pacquiao, already atop many pound-for-pound lists, would be the hottest thing in boxing should he take down Oscar De La Hoya on Dec. 6, and Nonito Donaire is the IBF flyweight champion – there is at least an outside chance history will take a second look at Bernard Docusen.

As a Baby Boomer whose energy for causes has mostly been expended, I have come to realize there isn’t much I can do to change the world. I am neither young nor particularly angry these days, but my passive lobbying for certain sports figures I hold in high esteem reminds me, at least a little, of some of the lyrics from Billy Joel’s “Angry Young Man.”

I believe I’ve passed the age of consciousness and righteous rage

I found that just surviving was a noble fight.

I once believed in causes too,

I had my pointless point of view,

And life went on no matter who was wrong or right.

In 2007, my efforts to have the late Whitey Esneault inducted into the Sugar Bowl Greater New Orleans Sports Hall of Fame were finally rewarded. Esneault was the one-legged World War I Navy veteran who trained not only the Docusens, but such other slick New Orleans boxers as Ralph Dupas, Willie Pastrano and Tony Licata. The door to Canastota remains closed for now for Mr. Whitey and Big Duke, but what the hell. You never know.

That I still have enough faith to fight the good fight is Dad’s gift to me that keeps on giving.

*photo courtesy of Patricia Maddox-Docusen, thank you!

[bennie]

...Kevin Finnegan was found dead today at the age of 60. Kevin wandered around aimlessly for years (like Ernie), getting drunk and sleeping rough, although he clearly owned a house, which is where he was found by police.

Bennie, it seems like yesterday I was reading of his exploits against Sterling, Bouttier, Minter (3 times), Kalule, Tonna (twice), Sibson and Hagler (twice). He fought the top dogs of his day and will be remembered by true boxing fans for it.

Scartissue

Yes, his fight with Kalule demonstrated, from both fighters, what boxing is all about. Pure skill.
Finnegan was a fabulous boxer.

[bennie]

Former British and European middleweight champ Kevin Finnegan has been found dead in his flat in West London at the relatively young age of 60.
In the context of today's boxing scene, with 'world' titles seemingly given away, it is incredible to think this man never got a sniff at a world title shot. The younger brother of the better-known Chris licked the likes of Bunny Sterling, Tony Sibson, Gratien Tonna, Jean Claude Bouttier, Frankie Lucas, gave "Marvelous" Marvin Hagler a real war in the first of two fantastic efforts in the States in 1978 (both stopped on cuts, just two months apart) and looked desperately unlucky in the second of three 15-round classics with Alan Minter, who staggered home to a debatable decision in 1976.
Quite simply, Kevin Finnegan was gifted.
After his five wars with Minter and Hagler, both of whom went on to win the undisputed world middleweight title, Finnegan enjoyed a glorious, totally unexpected twilight to his career. In 1979 he outboxed Sibson over 15 rounds for the British title - just after "Sibbo" had destroyed "The Animal" Lucas - and then avenged a defeat to the ferocious Gratien Tonna with another magnificent boxing display in 1980 in France to lift the European title (his points loss to Tonna in the mid-1970s possibly cost him a shot at Carlos Monzon) and picked up a couple of nice paydays abroad in defence of the European belt. Finnegan fought well in his very last fight with Matteo Salvemini in Italy in September 1980, flooring the local man with a beautiful counter right, but Salvemeni proved a bit too energetic and took the points.
Sadly, Kevin, from Iver in Buckinghamshire, struggled in vain to find any meaning to his life once his career ended as he wandered around aimlessly, getting drunk and sleeping rough in a park in Uxbridge, although he clearly owned a property, where he was found by police.
Marvin Hagler always said Finnegan gave him his hardest fight. What a boxer, what a character, what an epitah.

[kikibalt]

Former British and European middleweight champ Kevin Finnegan has been found dead in his flat in West London at the relatively young age of 60.
In the context of today's boxing scene, with 'world' titles seemingly given away, it is incredible to think this man never got a sniff at a world title shot. The younger brother of the better-known Chris licked the likes of Bunny Sterling, Tony Sibson, Gratien Tonna, Jean Claude Bouttier, Frankie Lucas, gave "Marvelous" Marvin Hagler a real war in the first of two fantastic efforts in the States in 1978 (both stopped on cuts, just two months apart) and looked desperately unlucky in the second of three 15-round classics with Alan Minter, who staggered home to a debatable decision in 1976.
Quite simply, Kevin Finnegan was gifted.
After his five wars with Minter and Hagler, both of whom went on to win the undisputed world middleweight title, Finnegan enjoyed a glorious, totally unexpected twilight to his career. In 1979 he outboxed Sibson over 15 rounds for the British title - just after "Sibbo" had destroyed "The Animal" Lucas - and then avenged a defeat to the ferocious Gratien Tonna with another magnificent boxing display in 1980 in France to lift the European title (his points loss to Tonna in the mid-1970s possibly cost him a shot at Carlos Monzon) and picked up a couple of nice paydays abroad in defence of the European belt. Finnegan fought well in his very last fight with Matteo Salvemini in Italy in September 1980, flooring the local man with a beautiful counter right, but Salvemeni proved a bit too energetic and took the points.
Sadly, Kevin, from Iver in Buckinghamshire, struggled in vain to find any meaning to his life once his career ended as he wandered around aimlessly, getting drunk and sleeping rough in a park in Uxbridge, although he clearly owned a property, where he was found by police.
Marvin Hagler always said Finnegan gave him his hardest fight. What a boxer, what a character, what an epitah.

Thanks, Bennie, for that great write-up.