Classic American West Coast Boxing

[Rick Farris]

SOMETHING CAUGHT MY EYE

Reading Frank's response about the 50's Armando Muniz that had a brother who boxed, brought to mind of the WBHOF's president and former welterweight contender by the same name that also had a brother who laced them up. Tragically Mando's brother died in a plane crash in Poland along with a contingency of amateur boxers that were going to compete in Europe. With that team that day was their coach Junior Robles.

Junior was an amateur boxer who had given back to his community of National City(a town just south of San Diego)a boy's amateur boxing program. Junior was also involved with youth basesball. Junior was just plain involved with anything in Nat City.The homeless. Old folks. Anything that needed to be addressed that involved helping people,you could find Junior Robles. He kind of revived a community that was starting to reveal a darker side . That was part of Junior's mission. He wanted to improve the quality of life looking to the future of National City.

When I was dabbling in the sport of boxing,I remembered Robles's gym. It wasn't a place to dabble. If a kid didn't want to sacrafice he was shown the door. But not many kids took that exit. Junior was a fella' steeped in pride. He was respected. Never a bad word from anyone's lips did I hear mention of Junior Robles.

When that plane went down in 1980 I was disconnected from the sport of boxing. One day after work(I was working at a school for handicapped kids in National City) I stopped by a local ice cream parlor for a homemade ice cream. As I was entering the establishment I saw that a newspaper article was posted on the front window of the store. It was the news of the plane crash and an obituary of Junior Robles.

How could that have passed by me? I was in no mood to eat something sweet after reading that story.

Junior Robles,the Mexican kid,meant so much to National City,but outside that community hardly anyone had heard of him. His name was submitted twice to enter the local Hall Of Champions and denied. Just this year Junior was finally crowned. There's a street in National City with his name on it. Maybe it's because his sport was boxing. Maybe it was because he was Mexican. Maybe that's why he wasn't a San Diego name like a Tony Gwynn or a Marshall Faulk.

One day ,way back when, I walked inside Robles's gym. It was packed to the doors with kids wanting to take Junior's direction.Learning how to be a fighter. Bring up the name of Junior Robles's name today in Shell Town(the nick name for National City)and people are still trying to follow his way.That's a place where they never forgot.

Jumior Robles . . .

Roger . . . Great post about a special man. It was always a curiosity of mine why Junior Robles did not continue an unbeaten pro career after a half dozen fights? He is a legend not only in San Diego, but to USA amateur boxing of the era. Boxing lost some special people in that tragic plane crash of 1980, both boxers and coaches.

At the time, our friend "Kid Rooter" Rudy Ramirez was boxing amateur in San Diego. Rudy was trained by Norman "Buzzsaw" Parra, but I'm sure he has recollection of Robles.

By the way, I will call you manana.


-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Thats because you're too young, Tom....

This Muniz had a brother that also fought in L.A., his name was Giberto Muniz.

"too young. . ." Man, that's the first time anybody has called me that in a long time. Thanks! You made my day!

Tommy,...Any body that isn't on the shady side of 65 is young.....

[kikibalt]

SOMETHING CAUGHT MY EYE

Reading Frank's response about the 50's Armando Muniz that had a brother who boxed, brought to mind of the WBHOF's president and former welterweight contender by the same name that also had a brother who laced them up. Tragically Mando's brother died in a plane crash in Poland along with a contingency of amateur boxers that were going to compete in Europe. With that team that day was their coach Junior Robles.

Junior was an amateur boxer who had given back to his community of National City(a town just south of San Diego)a boy's amateur boxing program. Junior was also involved with youth basesball. Junior was just plain involved with anything in Nat City.The homeless. Old folks. Anything that needed to be addressed that involved helping people,you could find Junior Robles. He kind of revived a community that was starting to reveal a darker side . That was part of Junior's mission. He wanted to improve the quality of life looking to the future of National City.

When I was dabbling in the sport of boxing,I remembered Robles's gym. It wasn't a place to dabble. If a kid didn't want to sacrafice he was shown the door. But not many kids took that exit. Junior was a fella' steeped in pride. He was respected. Never a bad word from anyone's lips did I hear mention of Junior Robles.

When that plane went down in 1980 I was disconnected from the sport of boxing. One day after work(I was working at a school for handicapped kids in National City) I stopped by a local ice cream parlor for a homemade ice cream. As I was entering the establishment I saw that a newspaper article was posted on the front window of the store. It was the news of the plane crash and an obituary of Junior Robles.

How could that have passed by me? I was in no mood to eat something sweet after reading that story.

Junior Robles,the Mexican kid,meant so much to National City,but outside that community hardly anyone had heard of him. His name was submitted twice to enter the local Hall Of Champions and denied. Just this year Junior was finally crowned. There's a street in National City with his name on it. Maybe it's because his sport was boxing. Maybe it was because he was Mexican. Maybe that's why he wasn't a San Diego name like a Tony Gwynn or a Marshall Faulk.

One day ,way back when, I walked inside Robles's gym. It was packed to the doors with kids wanting to take Junior's direction.Learning how to be a fighter. Bring up the name of Junior Robles's name today in Shell Town(the nick name for National City)and people are still trying to follow his way.That's a place where they never forgot.

Roger,,,Hate to be a dick here, but that was Carlos Palomino's brother "Paul" that got killed in that plane cash and not Mando Muinz's. Mando's brother Javier, went on to have a pro career in which he fought Roberto Duran if memory serves.

[kikibalt]

does any of you more knowledgable posters know of a sports writer named Mannie Pineta? I believe he was around in the 1930's and 1950's out in California. I was wondering if anyone had any information on him.

Hank....I have never heard of the man, maybe Hap Navarro has, if he sees this, he'll reply I am sure.

[kikibalt]

Paul V. Coates -- Confidential File, June 9, 1959


'Justice' in Tijuana Is Extremely Tricky

It's traditional for imaginative American youngsters to be infected with wanderlust.

This is the story of an American youngster whose wanderlust led him to the grim obscurity of a Mexican federal prison.

His name: Robert Petersen.

At 17, he wasn't a particularly cocky little kid. But he did have his own brand of bravado -- exactly the kind of bravado that you'd suspect a 17-year-old who didn't yet scale 100 pounds and lacked an inch of being 5 ft. tall to affect.

Bobby like sharp clothes, flashy cars, and race horses weighing nearly a ton. He liked walking "hots" - cooling off thoroughbreds after they'd worded out -- because someday he was going to be a jockey.

That was the motivation to leave school, to leave home. His folks were nice people. He'd keep in touch. But you can't learn how to ride a horse in your living room.

He worked the fairs, picking up $10 or $20 a day and some feedbag tips worth five and 10 times his salary.

It was one of those tips, in his short career at the tracks, that led him to the races at Tijuana's Caliente track.

It was a good tip and his $5 mutuel ticket netted him enough to pay the rent on a shiny, new U-drive car. At least, for a few days. But Bobby wasn't old enough to sign for it himself. So he found a taxi driver in Tijuana -- a friend of a friend -- who would.

He reportedly paid him $25 in advance. Then, he headed for San Diego to pick up a girlfriend for a drive-in movie date.

Bobby told the taxi driver that he'd probably be gone a day. But he made the mistake of being gone two days before he headed back for Tijuana.

And then he made his second mistake. Instead of driving straight for the house of taxi-driver, he stopped off at Caliente to put down two bucks on a horse he'd heard was ready to run.

The horse was good but Bobby's luck wasn't when he walked out into the parking lot after the sixth race. The nervous taxi driver had spotted his car while dropping off a customer, and had then called the Tijuana police to tell them that the car had been stolen from him. The police, and a jail cell, were waiting for Bobby when he arrived in the lot.

The kid got a trial, just like everybody else in Tijuana -- except his, in certain respects, was better. The U-drive representative testified that the bill was paid in full. And thecabbie added that the whole thing was just a mistake.

But the judge didn't see it their way. Bobby was guilty of stealing the car.

And suitable punishment for the crime would be four years hard time, in the dusty, sun-soaked federal pen on the eastern outskirts of Tijuana.

For more than a year, that's been the home of this teen-age kid. He's got a knife gash on his back and some sores and bruises to prove it.

He's been sleeping on the ground until it's comfortable and eating mush until it almost tastes good. I've been told that he doesn't complain any more. It's healthier not to. Even if your family sends you shoes and shirts and socks and somebody else wears them, it's better not to say anything.

Besides, he's going to get out soon. His parents have fought his case to the Baja California court of appeals, and now it's been decided that for $640 he can buy his conditional release.

'We'll Get the Money'

I telephoned his folks yesterday, at their home in Northern California.

They've got other kids -- other mouths to feed -- they admitted, but maybe by selling a few things and contacting all their friends, they'll be able to raise it.

"We'll get the money somehow," his mother told me. "We've got to."

And from what I've heard about teenage American prisoners in Mexican prisons, they better raise that money. Real fast.

[dagosd2000]

SOMETHING CAUGHT MY EYE

Reading Frank's response about the 50's Armando Muniz that had a brother who boxed, brought to mind of the WBHOF's president and former welterweight contender by the same name that also had a brother who laced them up. Tragically Mando's brother died in a plane crash in Poland along with a contingency of amateur boxers that were going to compete in Europe. With that team that day was their coach Junior Robles.

Junior was an amateur boxer who had given back to his community of National City(a town just south of San Diego)a boy's amateur boxing program. Junior was also involved with youth basesball. Junior was just plain involved with anything in Nat City.The homeless. Old folks. Anything that needed to be addressed that involved helping people,you could find Junior Robles. He kind of revived a community that was starting to reveal a darker side . That was part of Junior's mission. He wanted to improve the quality of life looking to the future of National City.

When I was dabbling in the sport of boxing,I remembered Robles's gym. It wasn't a place to dabble. If a kid didn't want to sacrafice he was shown the door. But not many kids took that exit. Junior was a fella' steeped in pride. He was respected. Never a bad word from anyone's lips did I hear mention of Junior Robles.

When that plane went down in 1980 I was disconnected from the sport of boxing. One day after work(I was working at a school for handicapped kids in National City) I stopped by a local ice cream parlor for a homemade ice cream. As I was entering the establishment I saw that a newspaper article was posted on the front window of the store. It was the news of the plane crash and an obituary of Junior Robles.

How could that have passed by me? I was in no mood to eat something sweet after reading that story.

Junior Robles,the Mexican kid,meant so much to National City,but outside that community hardly anyone had heard of him. His name was submitted twice to enter the local Hall Of Champions and denied. Just this year Junior was finally crowned. There's a street in National City with his name on it. Maybe it's because his sport was boxing. Maybe it was because he was Mexican. Maybe that's why he wasn't a San Diego name like a Tony Gwynn or a Marshall Faulk.

One day ,way back when, I walked inside Robles's gym. It was packed to the doors with kids wanting to take Junior's direction.Learning how to be a fighter. Bring up the name of Junior Robles's name today in Shell Town(the nick name for National City)and people are still trying to follow his way.That's a place where they never forgot.

Roger,,,Hate to be a dick here, but that was Carlos Palomino's brother "Paul" that got killed in that plane cash and not Mando Muinz's. Mando's brother Javier, went on to have a pro career in which he fought Roberto Duran if memory serves.

Frank
Thanks for straightening me out. You're right. Javier was Mando's bro. Carlos lost the brother. When I write these pieces ,I'm writing so fast that sometimes I don't get my facts right.Everything is coming off the top of my head. Thanks. Rog

[dagosd2000]

Paul V. Coates -- Confidential File, June 9, 1959


'Justice' in Tijuana Is Extremely Tricky

It's traditional for imaginative American youngsters to be infected with wanderlust.

This is the story of an American youngster whose wanderlust led him to the grim obscurity of a Mexican federal prison.

His name: Robert Petersen.

At 17, he wasn't a particularly cocky little kid. But he did have his own brand of bravado -- exactly the kind of bravado that you'd suspect a 17-year-old who didn't yet scale 100 pounds and lacked an inch of being 5 ft. tall to affect.

Bobby like sharp clothes, flashy cars, and race horses weighing nearly a ton. He liked walking "hots" - cooling off thoroughbreds after they'd worded out -- because someday he was going to be a jockey.

That was the motivation to leave school, to leave home. His folks were nice people. He'd keep in touch. But you can't learn how to ride a horse in your living room.

He worked the fairs, picking up $10 or $20 a day and some feedbag tips worth five and 10 times his salary.

It was one of those tips, in his short career at the tracks, that led him to the races at Tijuana's Caliente track.

It was a good tip and his $5 mutuel ticket netted him enough to pay the rent on a shiny, new U-drive car. At least, for a few days. But Bobby wasn't old enough to sign for it himself. So he found a taxi driver in Tijuana -- a friend of a friend -- who would.

He reportedly paid him $25 in advance. Then, he headed for San Diego to pick up a girlfriend for a drive-in movie date.

Bobby told the taxi driver that he'd probably be gone a day. But he made the mistake of being gone two days before he headed back for Tijuana.

And then he made his second mistake. Instead of driving straight for the house of taxi-driver, he stopped off at Caliente to put down two bucks on a horse he'd heard was ready to run.

The horse was good but Bobby's luck wasn't when he walked out into the parking lot after the sixth race. The nervous taxi driver had spotted his car while dropping off a customer, and had then called the Tijuana police to tell them that the car had been stolen from him. The police, and a jail cell, were waiting for Bobby when he arrived in the lot.

The kid got a trial, just like everybody else in Tijuana -- except his, in certain respects, was better. The U-drive representative testified that the bill was paid in full. And thecabbie added that the whole thing was just a mistake.

But the judge didn't see it their way. Bobby was guilty of stealing the car.

And suitable punishment for the crime would be four years hard time, in the dusty, sun-soaked federal pen on the eastern outskirts of Tijuana.

For more than a year, that's been the home of this teen-age kid. He's got a knife gash on his back and some sores and bruises to prove it.

He's been sleeping on the ground until it's comfortable and eating mush until it almost tastes good. I've been told that he doesn't complain any more. It's healthier not to. Even if your family sends you shoes and shirts and socks and somebody else wears them, it's better not to say anything.

Besides, he's going to get out soon. His parents have fought his case to the Baja California court of appeals, and now it's been decided that for $640 he can buy his conditional release.

'We'll Get the Money'

I telephoned his folks yesterday, at their home in Northern California.

They've got other kids -- other mouths to feed -- they admitted, but maybe by selling a few things and contacting all their friends, they'll be able to raise it.

"We'll get the money somehow," his mother told me. "We've got to."

And from what I've heard about teenage American prisoners in Mexican prisons, they better raise that money. Real fast.

I hope the kid got . Jail in Mexico is run by the prisoners. Survival of the fittest. Worse than here.

[dagosd2000]

SOMETHING CAUGHT MY EYE

Reading Frank's response about the 50's Armando Muniz that had a brother who boxed, brought to mind of the WBHOF's president and former welterweight contender by the same name that also had a brother who laced them up. Tragically Mando's brother died in a plane crash in Poland along with a contingency of amateur boxers that were going to compete in Europe. With that team that day was their coach Junior Robles.

Junior was an amateur boxer who had given back to his community of National City(a town just south of San Diego)a boy's amateur boxing program. Junior was also involved with youth basesball. Junior was just plain involved with anything in Nat City.The homeless. Old folks. Anything that needed to be addressed that involved helping people,you could find Junior Robles. He kind of revived a community that was starting to reveal a darker side . That was part of Junior's mission. He wanted to improve the quality of life looking to the future of National City.

When I was dabbling in the sport of boxing,I remembered Robles's gym. It wasn't a place to dabble. If a kid didn't want to sacrafice he was shown the door. But not many kids took that exit. Junior was a fella' steeped in pride. He was respected. Never a bad word from anyone's lips did I hear mention of Junior Robles.

When that plane went down in 1980 I was disconnected from the sport of boxing. One day after work(I was working at a school for handicapped kids in National City) I stopped by a local ice cream parlor for a homemade ice cream. As I was entering the establishment I saw that a newspaper article was posted on the front window of the store. It was the news of the plane crash and an obituary of Junior Robles.

How could that have passed by me? I was in no mood to eat something sweet after reading that story.

Junior Robles,the Mexican kid,meant so much to National City,but outside that community hardly anyone had heard of him. His name was submitted twice to enter the local Hall Of Champions and denied. Just this year Junior was finally crowned. There's a street in National City with his name on it. Maybe it's because his sport was boxing. Maybe it was because he was Mexican. Maybe that's why he wasn't a San Diego name like a Tony Gwynn or a Marshall Faulk.

One day ,way back when, I walked inside Robles's gym. It was packed to the doors with kids wanting to take Junior's direction.Learning how to be a fighter. Bring up the name of Junior Robles's name today in Shell Town(the nick name for National City)and people are still trying to follow his way.That's a place where they never forgot.

Jumior Robles . . .

Roger . . . Great post about a special man. It was always a curiosity of mine why Junior Robles did not continue an unbeaten pro career after a half dozen fights? He is a legend not only in San Diego, but to USA amateur boxing of the era. Boxing lost some special people in that tragic plane crash of 1980, both boxers and coaches.

At the time, our friend "Kid Rooter" Rudy Ramirez was boxing amateur in San Diego. Rudy was trained by Norman "Buzzsaw" Parra, but I'm sure he has recollection of Robles.

By the way, I will call you manana.


-Rick Farris

Rick
Call after 6 if you can. Got graduation rehersal manana. Rog

[kikibalt]

SOMETHING CAUGHT MY EYE

Reading Frank's response about the 50's Armando Muniz that had a brother who boxed, brought to mind of the WBHOF's president and former welterweight contender by the same name that also had a brother who laced them up. Tragically Mando's brother died in a plane crash in Poland along with a contingency of amateur boxers that were going to compete in Europe. With that team that day was their coach Junior Robles.

Junior was an amateur boxer who had given back to his community of National City(a town just south of San Diego)a boy's amateur boxing program. Junior was also involved with youth basesball. Junior was just plain involved with anything in Nat City.The homeless. Old folks. Anything that needed to be addressed that involved helping people,you could find Junior Robles. He kind of revived a community that was starting to reveal a darker side . That was part of Junior's mission. He wanted to improve the quality of life looking to the future of National City.

When I was dabbling in the sport of boxing,I remembered Robles's gym. It wasn't a place to dabble. If a kid didn't want to sacrafice he was shown the door. But not many kids took that exit. Junior was a fella' steeped in pride. He was respected. Never a bad word from anyone's lips did I hear mention of Junior Robles.

When that plane went down in 1980 I was disconnected from the sport of boxing. One day after work(I was working at a school for handicapped kids in National City) I stopped by a local ice cream parlor for a homemade ice cream. As I was entering the establishment I saw that a newspaper article was posted on the front window of the store. It was the news of the plane crash and an obituary of Junior Robles.

How could that have passed by me? I was in no mood to eat something sweet after reading that story.

Junior Robles,the Mexican kid,meant so much to National City,but outside that community hardly anyone had heard of him. His name was submitted twice to enter the local Hall Of Champions and denied. Just this year Junior was finally crowned. There's a street in National City with his name on it. Maybe it's because his sport was boxing. Maybe it was because he was Mexican. Maybe that's why he wasn't a San Diego name like a Tony Gwynn or a Marshall Faulk.

One day ,way back when, I walked inside Robles's gym. It was packed to the doors with kids wanting to take Junior's direction.Learning how to be a fighter. Bring up the name of Junior Robles's name today in Shell Town(the nick name for National City)and people are still trying to follow his way.That's a place where they never forgot.

Roger,,,Hate to be a dick here, but that was Carlos Palomino's brother "Paul" that got killed in that plane cash and not Mando Muinz's. Mando's brother Javier, went on to have a pro career in which he fought Roberto Duran if memory serves.

Frank
Thanks for straightening me out. You're right. Javier was Mando's bro. Carlos lost the brother. When I write these pieces ,I'm writing so fast that sometimes I don't get my facts right.Everything is coming off the top of my head. Thanks. Rog

Roger...We look out for each other in this thread.

[kikibalt]

[dagosd2000]

Roger,,,Hate to be a dick here, but that was Carlos Palomino's brother "Paul" that got killed in that plane cash and not Mando Muinz's. Mando's brother Javier, went on to have a pro career in which he fought Roberto Duran if memory serves.[/quote]

Frank
Thanks for straightening me out. You're right. Javier was Mando's bro. Carlos lost the brother. When I write these pieces ,I'm writing so fast that sometimes I don't get my facts right.Everything is coming off the top of my head. Thanks. Rog[/quote]
Roger...We look out for each other in this thread.[/quote]

If only the world would look at life that way.

[kikibalt]

Eddie "The Animal" Lopez vs Big John Tate

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNzRiW_jNyg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLX0RMifFag

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmoHKnIZ3dM

[kikibalt]

[Rick Farris]

SOMETHING CAUGHT MY EYE

Reading Frank's response about the 50's Armando Muniz that had a brother who boxed, brought to mind of the WBHOF's president and former welterweight contender by the same name that also had a brother who laced them up. Tragically Mando's brother died in a plane crash in Poland along with a contingency of amateur boxers that were going to compete in Europe. With that team that day was their coach Junior Robles.

Junior was an amateur boxer who had given back to his community of National City(a town just south of San Diego)a boy's amateur boxing program. Junior was also involved with youth basesball. Junior was just plain involved with anything in Nat City.The homeless. Old folks. Anything that needed to be addressed that involved helping people,you could find Junior Robles. He kind of revived a community that was starting to reveal a darker side . That was part of Junior's mission. He wanted to improve the quality of life looking to the future of National City.

When I was dabbling in the sport of boxing,I remembered Robles's gym. It wasn't a place to dabble. If a kid didn't want to sacrafice he was shown the door. But not many kids took that exit. Junior was a fella' steeped in pride. He was respected. Never a bad word from anyone's lips did I hear mention of Junior Robles.

When that plane went down in 1980 I was disconnected from the sport of boxing. One day after work(I was working at a school for handicapped kids in National City) I stopped by a local ice cream parlor for a homemade ice cream. As I was entering the establishment I saw that a newspaper article was posted on the front window of the store. It was the news of the plane crash and an obituary of Junior Robles.

How could that have passed by me? I was in no mood to eat something sweet after reading that story.

Junior Robles,the Mexican kid,meant so much to National City,but outside that community hardly anyone had heard of him. His name was submitted twice to enter the local Hall Of Champions and denied. Just this year Junior was finally crowned. There's a street in National City with his name on it. Maybe it's because his sport was boxing. Maybe it was because he was Mexican. Maybe that's why he wasn't a San Diego name like a Tony Gwynn or a Marshall Faulk.

One day ,way back when, I walked inside Robles's gym. It was packed to the doors with kids wanting to take Junior's direction.Learning how to be a fighter. Bring up the name of Junior Robles's name today in Shell Town(the nick name for National City)and people are still trying to follow his way.That's a place where they never forgot.

Jumior Robles . . .

Roger . . . Great post about a special man. It was always a curiosity of mine why Junior Robles did not continue an unbeaten pro career after a half dozen fights? He is a legend not only in San Diego, but to USA amateur boxing of the era. Boxing lost some special people in that tragic plane crash of 1980, both boxers and coaches.

At the time, our friend "Kid Rooter" Rudy Ramirez was boxing amateur in San Diego. Rudy was trained by Norman "Buzzsaw" Parra, but I'm sure he has recollection of Robles.

By the way, I will call you manana.


-Rick Farris

Rick
Call after 6 if you can. Got graduation rehersal manana. Rog

Will do, Rog. I'll call after six tonight.


-Rick

[kikibalt]

[Rick Farris]

Eddie "The Animal" Lopez vs Big John Tate

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNzRiW_jNyg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLX0RMifFag

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmoHKnIZ3dM

We had bad heavy's back then, too . . .

Nice to see the Olympic Auditorium on CBS with Jerry Quarry as ringside TV announcer.
As for Lopez and Tate, both bums in my opinion, especially Lopez.
One of LA's more embarrassing excuses for a heavyweight, however, they would get worse.

The San Fernando Valley would spawn a couple more big bums shortly afterwards.
Three actually, one black, one white, one Vato. None could fight.
One was named Whitaker, another was Bray, and I forget the Latino's name.

Now Riverside County is doing it's part to contribute to the post-Quarry absence of heavyweight talent.
The Inland Empire is boasting it's own "fat ass" contender, Chris Arreola.
Chris fits right in with the post Quarry "Heavyweight Bums", California's heavyweight contribution.


-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Eddie "The Animal" Lopez vs Big John Tate

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNzRiW_jNyg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLX0RMifFag

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmoHKnIZ3dM

We had bad heavy's back then, too . . .

Nice to see the Olympic Auditorium on CBS with Jerry Quarry as ringside TV announcer.
As for Lopez and Tate, both bums in my opinion, especially Lopez.
One of LA's more embarrassing excuses for a heavyweight, however, they would get worse.

The San Fernando Valley would spawn a couple more big bums shortly afterwards.
Three actually, one black, one white, one Vato. None could fight.
One was named Whitaker, another was Bray, and I forget the Latino's name.

Now Riverside County is doing it's part to contribute to the post-Quarry absence of heavyweight talent.
The Inland Empire is boasting it's own "fat ass" contender, Chris Arreola.
Chris fits right in with the post Quarry "Heavyweight Bums", California's heavyweight contribution.


-Rick Farris

The Vato's name is Alex Garcia....

[Rick Farris]

Eddie "The Animal" Lopez vs Big John Tate

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNzRiW_jNyg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLX0RMifFag

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmoHKnIZ3dM

We had bad heavy's back then, too . . .

Nice to see the Olympic Auditorium on CBS with Jerry Quarry as ringside TV announcer.
As for Lopez and Tate, both bums in my opinion, especially Lopez.
One of LA's more embarrassing excuses for a heavyweight, however, they would get worse.

The San Fernando Valley would spawn a couple more big bums shortly afterwards.
Three actually, one black, one white, one Vato. None could fight.
One was named Whitaker, another was Bray, and I forget the Latino's name.

Now Riverside County is doing it's part to contribute to the post-Quarry absence of heavyweight talent.
The Inland Empire is boasting it's own "fat ass" contender, Chris Arreola.
Chris fits right in with the post Quarry "Heavyweight Bums", California's heavyweight contribution.


-Rick Farris

The Vato's name is Alex Garcia....

That's him.

[raylawpc]

If you need a smile . . . try these:



For some reason, I thought of Roger when I saw this one:

[kikibalt]

Tough Tijuana!
June 10, 2009 by Felipe Leon


CREA Gym

In my travels as a boxing journalist, I have visited my fair share of gyms. From the Wild Card gym before it was THE Wild Card gym to white collar training facilities in San Diego to seedy Barrio Logan holes in the wall. But no matter where these north of the border schools of hard knocks are located or what equipment they have, they are worlds away from the run down establishments their south of the border brethren like to call gimnasios.

If a San Diego white collar gym is a two story, three bedroom house, then a TJ gym is a cardboard shack.

Although there is one “white collar” gym in Tijuana which is located in the modern Sports World gym, no fighter of consequence has ever come out of there despite having former journeyman fighter “Zero” Sanchez as the man in charge.

I guess you can’t turn Tijuana bankers into world contenders.

The next best equipped gyms in Tijuana are the ones funded by the Municipal Institute for Sports which is helmed by former three time world champion Erik Morales.

The most well known is located next to the Municipal Auditorium and is inhabited by an array of amateur stars as well as professional fighters such as current IBF featherweight champion Cristobal “Lacandon” Cruz. The gym boasts a regulation size ring and rows of double end and heavy bags. Same thing can be said for the gym run by former bantamweight champion Raul “Jibaro” Perez who among the top amateurs who train there, you can also find former two time Jr. middleweight champion Alejandro “Terra” Garcia and former straw weight champ Roberto “Mako” Leyva. This gym also has a normal sized ring and plenty of heavy bags among others.

You might be asking why I keep bringing up the fact that both of these gyms have “regulation” or “normal” sized rings. It’s because as far as I have witnessed, these are the only two that do.

The CREA gym where many world champions have gone thru its doors such as the living legend himself Julio Cesar Chavez Sr, the afore mentioned Raul “Jibaro” Perez, Humberto “Zorrita” Soto, Jose Luis “Temible” Castillo and Jorge “Travieso” Arce has no such thing. Other fighters who have trained or train there are Antonio DeMarco, JC Chavez Jr and his brother Omar as well as the cream of the Tijuana’s crop of up and comers, in my humble opinion, all under the watchful eye of Romulo Quirarte and his two sons.

This gym has no regulation ring but two make shift areas that I would be hard pressed to even call a ring. Instead of a bouncy canvas you have what might have been the floor of a high school gym still marked with the Greco Roman wrestling boundaries.

The double end bags as well as the rest of the equipment is held together by the ever resilient duct tape that needs to be reapplied every evening before the doors are locked with a heavy lock.

This is Tijuana after all.

No fans are visible or felt anywhere in the gym and since the majority of the warriors inside are training to make weight for an upcoming bout, all the windows and doors are kept tightly shut. The temperature surely reaches 110 degrees during the summer.

Don’t get me started on the restrooms.

The Azteca Gym located in the Colonia Independencia wished it was as nice as the CREA. Located in one of the oldest neighborhoods of Tijuana, visitors need to go down a series of steps to enter the roughly double car garage sized room. The “ring” sits squarely in the middle of the room and since I didn’t stay long in fear of encountering a rat the size of my seven lbs. Chihuahua, didn’t notice much equipment. WBC #3 ranked featherweight Juan Carlos Burgos, and jr. welterweight Pavel Miranda among others train there. Three time welterweight champion Antonio Margarito also shakes down at the Azteca before traveling to Los Angeles for camp.

Even though many current, former and retired champions have come out of Tijuana and trained in these conditions, I often wonder what kind of fighters they would be if they trained in a high class facility such as the one Ivan Drago in “Rocky IV” trained in.

Will they still be as hungry? Will they still be as tough?

Who knows?

What I do know is that probably they wouldn’t be as happy since every time I visit one of these gyms, every fighter greets me with a smile as they continue to hit each other or the bag in front of them.

You can tell they wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

[Rick Farris]

Halls of Fame . . .

It should be about the boxers. History, recognition, honor, rememberence.
An official "Thank You" from the fans, put together by a few "friends."
A time to rekindle a roaring fire, one that touched our spirits, warmed our hearts.

We still wanted to touch Mando Ramos, as he touched us.
Who better to give you the lowdown on Sugar Ray Robinson, than Gene Fullmer?
Shake the hand that broke the jaw of Muhammad Ali. If he's healthy, Ken Norton will be there to offer you that hand.

Ali? Maybe Laila, but Muhammad is a long-shot these days. When "The Greatest" was healthy, he was usually present at the banquet.

Frazier? Smokin' Joe is always willing to show up, but he comes with a price tag of about $10,000 + expenses.
A little steep for a non-profit organization. We offered him a booth to showcase and market his new book, travel & lodging expenses, lots of PR op's. He declined.

Larry Holmes was immediatly inducted into the WBHOF upon becoming eligable in '07.
Next to Joe Louis, Holmes defended the heavyweight title more times than any other champ in history. So he certainly deserves the honor.
Holmes wanted a huge paycheck to attend the event, plus first class travel and lodging for a dozen Easton, Pa. freeloaders.
We said, "No way. You will be inducted, if you want your bronze statue, you must attend the event sometime in the future."
Larry did show up in Canestoga when the IBHOF inducted him the following year.
The fans in Canestoga were put off by the former champ, who demanded $50 for every autograph he signed. He didn't sell one signature.

Then you have a rarity in the world of boxing today, a class act.
He was a three-time heavyweight champ, only lost a couple times and KOed those who beat him in rematches.
He's smart, successful and respecful. His name is Lennox Lewis

Too bad our American heavyweight reps of recent history weren't a product of such class.
The principles of prizefighter class among the Yank big boys was buried along with Dempsey, Louis and the Rock.
A Brit has picked up the slack left by his ignorant Yank comrads.

When we informed Lennox Lewis that he was being inducted into the WBHOF, he was honored.
He was scheduled to work his HBO gig on the date of our banquet, but we worked the date to fit his schedule.
We offered him travel and lodging for two, all expenses. Like everybody else.
Lewis was grateful for the honor and our rescheduling the event. He refused transportation or lodging expenses, just requested four tickets to the banquet.
The former champs entourage included his wife, mother an attorney.

Something tells me Dempsey would have done the same thing?
The Rock? Nah, Marciano was tight as a dead heat. But you can bet he'd have shown up for his induction had he been alive.
Joe Louis? Well, you can pretty much believe that we'd happily pay just about anything to secure the attendence of the "Brown Bomber".
No offense Larry, but you must understand, you were heavyweight champ, but you weren't Joe Louis. Nobody was.

I prefer the old timers, they aren't so complicated.


-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Man’s Best Friend!
May 13, 2009 by Felipe Leon



In the time that I have been running around in boxing circles, I have met my fair share of fighters. From “opponents” to up and coming prospects, to retired legends of old to elite boxers to world champions.

I can say with certainty that none of them are more cordial and generous than the man they call “Perro”, up and coming super welterweight Alfredo Angulo.

The first time I met Angulo, It was nearly a year ago at the place where every man wished they could go but many never will, the Playboy Mansion.

ESPN’s Wednesday Night Fights broadcast the return of Julio Diaz to the ring after being demolished at the end of 2007 by Juan Diaz. This time, Diaz easily defeated little known David Torres in the main event.

To reach the Playboy Mansion, all press and invitees needed to meet at a Beverly Hills hotel and then be shuttled to the house that Hef built. There I met for the first time the former Olympian from Mexico.

We broke the ice by talking about mutual friends from Tijuana and then moved on to telling jokes. Good thing Angulo can throw an excellent left hook because he is no threat for George Lopez. He is possibly the worst joke teller in the history of comedy and to refresh your memory, comedy goes back to the days of the greek philosophers.

Once at the Mansion, we went our separate ways, I to cover the fights and he to attend to the many fans who wanted to take their photo with the relentless puncher. Near the end of the night we bumped into each other again and he inquired what I was going to do with the rest of my night. Since I was in the mood to paint the town red (which is not often for those who know me) he graciously invited me to continue the night with him and the group which he had made plans with.

This is where things get interesting.

In the pursuit of keeping my nose where it is instead of another side of my head which would surely happen if I disclosed who else was part of the party, all I am going to reveal is that it was another L.A. based fighter, his manager and trainer, a HBO executive and his friend and yours truly.

By this time, the other unnamed fighter was way on his way to being in layman terms, ripped, along with the rest of his corner while Angulo had not touched a drop of alcohol and wouldn’t the rest of the night while I hadn’t enjoyed a mixed drink since I tend not to while I cover a fight card.

We made our way to a Hollywood club that is owned by a well known young actor and were welcomed as VIP and treated as such for the rest of the night.

As the well oiled fighter and his crew continued to enjoy themselves for the rest of the night with drinks, dancing and dames, “Perro” and I enjoyed the scenery while Angulo drank juice and I the same-except mine had an extra “kick”.

As we stumbled out of the establishment at 2 am, it suddenly occurred to me that I had to drive back to San Diego that night. As I shared this with the group, it took about a tenth of a nanosecond for Angulo to offer his humble abode to me, a person he had just met a mere 2-3 pineapple juices ago.

I hesitated to accept as I deliberated whether I would be breaking any writer-fighter ethical codes but I quickly imagined my drive back without any sleep so I rapidly accepted.

Before we bedded down for the night, we enjoyed that time honored tradition of party people everywhere: the late night Mexican food run.

As we devoured a dinner of too much salsa coupled with way too much cheese, we spoke of recently passed fights and upcoming ones that we were looking forward too.

Once at his one room apartment located behind a regular sized house in a suburb of Los Angeles, I went to use the restroom.

When I exited, Angulo was preparing a bedding on the floor that I was sure was for me since I knew that Angulo, ever the gym rat, was surely going to train the next day whose daybreak was a mere couple of hours away.

Much to my surprise, he proceeded to lay down on the floor himself among the scattered boxing equipment and tennis shoes as he offered me the ample bed pushed against a wall.

I immediately refused but when a professional fighter who at that time was riding a nine KO streak and has scored two more since then insists, you comply.

So I slept on the bed.

Four hours later my alarm went off and I began my short two hour trek back to San Diego.

The whole time I spent with Angulo, he made me feel like we had known each other for years and never did he put up the wall that many fighters do when they know that they are dealing with a member of the press.

Since then, I have bumped into Angulo several times and been around him when he has dealt with other boxing scribes and he is as genuine with them as he was with me.

When he offered his bed to me, I knew that I was dealing with a man that although humble in his beginnings had the wealth of an education that was taught to him by his beloved mother.

On May 30th, “Perro” Angulo will be taking on his biggest challenge to date when he faces former two time welterweight champion Kermit Cintron in Florida. Rest assured that I will be cheering for Angulo, journalist ethics be damned.

[Rick Farris]

Man’s Best Friend!
May 13, 2009 by Felipe Leon



In the time that I have been running around in boxing circles, I have met my fair share of fighters. From “opponents” to up and coming prospects, to retired legends of old to elite boxers to world champions.

I can say with certainty that none of them are more cordial and generous than the man they call “Perro”, up and coming super welterweight Alfredo Angulo.

The first time I met Angulo, It was nearly a year ago at the place where every man wished they could go but many never will, the Playboy Mansion.

ESPN’s Wednesday Night Fights broadcast the return of Julio Diaz to the ring after being demolished at the end of 2007 by Juan Diaz. This time, Diaz easily defeated little known David Torres in the main event.

To reach the Playboy Mansion, all press and invitees needed to meet at a Beverly Hills hotel and then be shuttled to the house that Hef built. There I met for the first time the former Olympian from Mexico.

We broke the ice by talking about mutual friends from Tijuana and then moved on to telling jokes. Good thing Angulo can throw an excellent left hook because he is no threat for George Lopez. He is possibly the worst joke teller in the history of comedy and to refresh your memory, comedy goes back to the days of the greek philosophers.

Once at the Mansion, we went our separate ways, I to cover the fights and he to attend to the many fans who wanted to take their photo with the relentless puncher. Near the end of the night we bumped into each other again and he inquired what I was going to do with the rest of my night. Since I was in the mood to paint the town red (which is not often for those who know me) he graciously invited me to continue the night with him and the group which he had made plans with.

This is where things get interesting.

In the pursuit of keeping my nose where it is instead of another side of my head which would surely happen if I disclosed who else was part of the party, all I am going to reveal is that it was another L.A. based fighter, his manager and trainer, a HBO executive and his friend and yours truly.

By this time, the other unnamed fighter was way on his way to being in layman terms, ripped, along with the rest of his corner while Angulo had not touched a drop of alcohol and wouldn’t the rest of the night while I hadn’t enjoyed a mixed drink since I tend not to while I cover a fight card.

We made our way to a Hollywood club that is owned by a well known young actor and were welcomed as VIP and treated as such for the rest of the night.

As the well oiled fighter and his crew continued to enjoy themselves for the rest of the night with drinks, dancing and dames, “Perro” and I enjoyed the scenery while Angulo drank juice and I the same-except mine had an extra “kick”.

As we stumbled out of the establishment at 2 am, it suddenly occurred to me that I had to drive back to San Diego that night. As I shared this with the group, it took about a tenth of a nanosecond for Angulo to offer his humble abode to me, a person he had just met a mere 2-3 pineapple juices ago.

I hesitated to accept as I deliberated whether I would be breaking any writer-fighter ethical codes but I quickly imagined my drive back without any sleep so I rapidly accepted.

Before we bedded down for the night, we enjoyed that time honored tradition of party people everywhere: the late night Mexican food run.

As we devoured a dinner of too much salsa coupled with way too much cheese, we spoke of recently passed fights and upcoming ones that we were looking forward too.

Once at his one room apartment located behind a regular sized house in a suburb of Los Angeles, I went to use the restroom.

When I exited, Angulo was preparing a bedding on the floor that I was sure was for me since I knew that Angulo, ever the gym rat, was surely going to train the next day whose daybreak was a mere couple of hours away.

Much to my surprise, he proceeded to lay down on the floor himself among the scattered boxing equipment and tennis shoes as he offered me the ample bed pushed against a wall.

I immediately refused but when a professional fighter who at that time was riding a nine KO streak and has scored two more since then insists, you comply.

So I slept on the bed.

Four hours later my alarm went off and I began my short two hour trek back to San Diego.

The whole time I spent with Angulo, he made me feel like we had known each other for years and never did he put up the wall that many fighters do when they know that they are dealing with a member of the press.

Since then, I have bumped into Angulo several times and been around him when he has dealt with other boxing scribes and he is as genuine with them as he was with me.

When he offered his bed to me, I knew that I was dealing with a man that although humble in his beginnings had the wealth of an education that was taught to him by his beloved mother.

On May 30th, “Perro” Angulo will be taking on his biggest challenge to date when he faces former two time welterweight champion Kermit Cintron in Florida. Rest assured that I will be cheering for Angulo, journalist ethics be damned.

[kikibalt]

Yeah! Rick....

[kikibalt]