Classic American West Coast Boxing

[Chuck1052]

I noticed that Victor Ortiz's corner was telling him at the end of the fifth that they would stop the fight if he kept being hit. This was in a very competitive fight in which Ortiz wasn't taking a tremendous amount of punishment and had a very good chance of winning.

After the bout, Ortiz stated in an interview with Max Kellerman that he didn't want to take a lot of punishment in the ring and sustain a permanent injury. While every fighter should be concerned about his health, it seems to be that Ortiz's concern in this regard appears to be overwhelming. As a result, I wonder if Ortiz may have chosen the wrong career because a fighter is going to take a lot of punishment along the way.

- Chuck Johnston

[Randyman]

I noticed that Victor Ortiz's corner was telling him at the end of the fifth that they would stop the fight if he kept being hit. This was in a very competitive fight in which Ortiz wasn't taking a tremendous amount of punishment and had a very good chance of winning.

After the bout, Ortiz stated in an interview with Max Kellerman that he didn't want to take a lot of punishment in the ring and sustaining a permanent injury. While every fighter should be concerned about his health, it seems to be that Ortiz's concern in this regard appears to be overwhelming. As a result, I wonder if Ortiz may have chosen the wrong because a fighter is going to take a lot of punishment along the way.

- Chuck Johnston

You are 100% right on target Chuck, and may I add, you and I are being kind. Everyone in the press seems to be down playing this little fact. To his credit Max Kellerman called it as he saw it.

[Rick Farris]

Argentina’s Maidana stuns Victor Ortiz
By GREG BEACHAM AP Sports Writer

LOS ANGELES(AP)—Marcos Maidana stopped Victor Ortiz early in the sixth round of an action-packed fight Saturday night, using a punishing right hand to upset one of boxing’s top prospects.

Maidana (26-1, 25 KOs), a 140-pound Argentine who fights mostly in Germany, was knocked down three times in the opening two rounds of his first fight in this country. Yet Maidana also flattened Ortiz in the first round, and he steadily landed punches until Ortiz finally was forced to stop, his face badly cut and terribly swollen.

“I went down, but I got up because I have a big heart,” Maidana said. “I saw that Victor felt my punches, and I said, ‘I know I can win this.”’

Ortiz (24-2-1) was the most promising youngster in Golden Boy Promotions’ stable of up-and-coming fighters, but the Kansas native couldn’t maintain his aggressive early pace and took far too many big shots. After he was rendered unsteady and bloody from the final knockdown, the ringside doctor stopped the fight.

Ortiz had knocked out his last eight opponents, but the talkative fighter was left practically speechless by Maidana’s power and resilience. He finished with a large cut near his right eye and a badly damaged left eye.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said. “I wasn’t in the zone tonight. He packs some power behind those punches. I usually keep composed, and tonight I wasn’t. … I made some mistakes. I wanted to take my time and finish him, but I was hurt.”

Ortiz connected on 42 percent of his 177 punches. Maidana was much busier with 293 punches, connecting with 23 percent.

Maidana incurred his only loss in February on a split decision against Andreas Kotelnik. Maidana felt robbed by sketchy judging that favored Kotelnik, who lives in Germany - and he left nothing to the scorecards against Ortiz.

Ortiz couldn’t live up to the expectations of an enthusiastic crowd supporting him in his first main-event bout at Staples Center, near his adopted Southern California home. Ortiz had never headlined a card in such a large venue, but Oscar De La Hoya was eager to turn him into a star.

Both fighters moved forward furiously from the opening bell, and Ortiz knocked down Maidana for the first time on a big right hand with about 1:15 left. With the crowd standing and cheering for Ortiz, Maidana improbably landed a straight right hand that put Ortiz flat on his back.

The crowd was stunned, but Ortiz popped back up, and both fighters made it to the bell. The second round was just as competitive, with the boxers trading shots until Ortiz knocked down Maidana with a right hook with about 30 seconds left - and then did it again with a shorter version of the same punch right before the bell.

But Maidana landed several big shots in the next three rounds, rocking Ortiz with two powerful right hands in the final seconds of the fifth. Ortiz also developed that big cut, which gaped open when the fight ended 46 seconds into the sixth.

“I came to look to finish him, and that’s what happened,” Maidana said. “He hits very hard, but he doesn’t have a good chin. Definitely he didn’t adjust to my rhythm.”

Chris John, the Indonesian featherweight champion who backed out of his co-main event rematch with Rocky Juarez this week because of an illness, appeared in the ring before the final bout. He waved to several hundred flag-waving Indonesian fans who bought tickets thinking they would see John’s second fight in this country.

The undercard fighters entered the ring to the strains of remixed Michael Jackson songs, and Ortiz made his ring walk to a “Beat It” and “Thriller” mash-up. A ceremonial 10-count was rung in honor of the pop star who died Thursday in Holmby Hills, about 12 miles from Staples Center. Jackson spent many nights rehearsing at the arena during the past two months for his 50 scheduled summer appearances in London.

Ortiz quit. During the interview with Max Kellerman he said "I don't deserve to get beat up like this". I'm not so sure I understand. No one deserves it but is a possibility when you decide to step into the ring. Every boxer knows that. He also said "I'm not going out on my back for anyone" (I'm paraphrasing).

Ortiz was in a tough fight to be sure, in fact it was a great fight, and he was giving a good account of himself. He came back from a knockdown early on and had down Maidona three times during the fight. The truth is he lost his will. This is not a case of a veteran fighter at the end of his career deciding he no longer had it. A lot of fighters have reached the end of their careers sitting on the stool unable, either physically of mentally, to continue. This is fighter being put to the test at the appropriate time in his career and he had no qualms about quitting.

Later, when the fight was over and people where milling around the ring, Sugar Shane Mosley was talking with Ortiz, trying to encourage him. A fighter like Mosley could never understand a fighter like Ortiz. Mosley would and has gone down swinging. If Golden Boy Promotions and boxing in general were pinning their hopes for the future of boxing on Victor Ortiz, they better look elsewhere, he's not their man.

Randy

No balls. This one must walk the plank.
He's just eliminated himself from any future considration.
I guess this is one of the reasons we enjoy this thread. We discuss real boxers, which means Victor Ortiz has no place here.


-Rick Farris

[Bobbin & Weavin]

Hey guys,
I'm trying to catch up with all the great new stuff you have been posting. I've had a very busy and eventful past month. My daughter graduated from CalPoly in San Luis Obispo with a degree in English a couple weeks ago which was a very prideful event for my wife and I, Kelly's accomplishment is the first for our working class families, something else we are very proud of.

After that I spent a week on a youth Mission Trip in San Diego where ten adults and thirty teens traveled from Northern California to work for the week at the Salvation Army facility in San Diego, Roger's neighborhood. We removed old wood paneling, repainted, installed new base and basically gave a facelift for the eating area of their large cafeteria. We also built a storage shed to store donations and our crew of dedicated teens and adults removed three 40 yard debris boxes of fallen and overgrown foliage on the Salvation Army campus that provides housing for unwed mothers in transition, foster children who have been removed from their homes because of violence and transition housing for battered adult women. This facility also sends out 800 meals a day to seniors in the area, some of which may be their only meal of the day.

I was so proud of our hard working teens who worked ten hard hours a day while learning how valuable a service they were providing learning that their work would enable the Salvation Army to put their funds towards their programs because we were able to provide these services for them at our expense. We figure we put in about 1300 man hours not including preparation and travel and spent about twenty thousand dollars that the kids raised during the past year for this trip.

I got home just in time to get my World Boxing HOF ballot in the mail, Rick I hope it got to you in time. Now I'm looking forward to spending the summer on this forum learning more about the great boxing history here on the West Coast and more.
Bruce

[Rick Farris]

[quote="Bobbin & Weavin"]Hey guys,
I'm trying to catch up with all the great new stuff you have been posting. I've had a very busy and eventful past month. My daughter graduated from CalPoly in San Luis Obispo with a degree in English a couple weeks ago which was a very prideful event for my wife and I, Kelly's accomplishment is the first for our working class families, something else we are very proud of.

After that I spent a week on a youth Mission Trip in San Diego where ten adults and thirty teens traveled from Northern California to work for the week at the Salvation Army facility in San Diego, Roger's neighborhood. We removed old wood paneling, repainted, installed new base and basically gave a facelift for the eating area of their large cafeteria. We also built a storage shed to store donations and our crew of dedicated teens and adults removed three 40 yard debris boxes of fallen and overgrown foliage on the Salvation Army campus that provides housing for unwed mothers in transition, foster children who have been removed from their homes because of violence and transition housing for battered adult women. This facility also sends out 800 meals a day to seniors in the area, some of which may be their only meal of the day.

I was so proud of our hard working teens who worked ten hard hours a day while learning how valuable a service they were providing learning that their work would enable the Salvation Army to put their funds towards their programs because we were able to provide these services for them at our expense. We figure we put in about 1300 man hours not including preparation and travel and spent about twenty thousand dollars that the kids raised during the past year for this trip.

I got home just in time to get my World Boxing HOF ballot in the mail, Rick I hope it got to you in time. Now I'm looking forward to spending the summer on this forum learning more about the great boxing history here on the West Coast and more.
Bruce
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bruce . . . Your ballot arrived friday. I saw it in the mail as the ballots come to my address.
Tomorrow Armando Muniz, Marty Denkin, Trudie Latka and myself will count the votes and when I get home this thread will get the info before anybody else.

By the way it's a good thing you and your kids do. You are a great dad!


-Rick Farris

[Rick Farris]

A Farrah Fawcett memory . . .

This story is not my own, but comes from another boxing writer I know who also works in the film industry.
My friend was a top TV commercial producer from the 1960's thru 90's.
He and I have worked for major commercial production companies, and with many of the same people, at different times..
We used to E-mail each other with funny stories about the business, and this is one of his E-mails to me from 2003.
Typical film set stuff.

(This story was copied off my E-Mail)
_________________________________________________


Rick, I thought you might like this one.
Just our talking about director's who were assholes brought this story to mind. I think you'll get a kick out of it . . .

It was the late 60's and I came to California to shoot a large commercial at the EUE/Screen Gems backlot in Burbank.

The director was a scrunched up little guy with a goatee. He looked like a disgruntled garden gnome.
Grumpy from "The Seven Dwarfs" comes to mind.

Anyway, he's one of these guys that whatever you've done, he's done something better. You went to the moon ... he went to Jupitor.
Just a major pain-in-the-ass ... so I decided to fix his wagon, and let the crew in on it.

To give you an idea how long ago this was, Farrah Fawcett was an Extra.
I saw him look at her, so I went over to him, "You want her, Bill?"
"You know her?" he asked. I said, "No problem, I'll fix it."

So I walked all the way over to the other side of the stage and asked if she was a member of Screen Actors Guild. She nodded "Yes".
Then I asked her if she had any commercials running. Again, she nodded, "Yes."
So I turned to him and give him a a big "OK" sign with my hand.

When I went back over to him, I told him to, "get rid of the wife tonight, and your girlfriend (who was staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel) and be in your room naked at 10pm and she'll be there."

After we wrapped for the day, I went and got a good friend, who was a receptionist for Jay Sebring, the hair stylist that was later murdered with Sharon Tate.
I told her to call the director at 10pm and say her husband was coming home and she couldn't make it tonight.
Because he had no idea what Farrah sounded like.

At 10, she calls ... and was better than my wildest dreams.
She gets on with this sexy, husky voice and says she can't make it because her husband is coming home, but she wants to jump on the director's head, sit on his face ... do everything you can possibly imagine.
Can she postpone until tomorrow night?

So, the next day, I ask him, "How'd it go?"
"Some confusion, but we'll meet tonight," he said.
So all day, whenever he's near her, he gives her a big wink, or a leer, and she's oblivious to everything.

Finally, they have to change film in the camera, and he sidles up to her and whispers in her ear, and she leaps backwards, like she just found a turd in her lunch. "WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?.

He stood there without turning to face us, because he knew he'd been had. When he finally turned around, steam coming out of his ears, the crew was all over the place, laughing.

For the rest of the shoot, he never acted again like he had a stick up his ass, and he also never spoke to me again . . . ever.


-Rick Farris

[Expug]

Argentina’s Maidana stuns Victor Ortiz
By GREG BEACHAM AP Sports Writer

LOS ANGELES(AP)—Marcos Maidana stopped Victor Ortiz early in the sixth round of an action-packed fight Saturday night, using a punishing right hand to upset one of boxing’s top prospects.

Maidana (26-1, 25 KOs), a 140-pound Argentine who fights mostly in Germany, was knocked down three times in the opening two rounds of his first fight in this country. Yet Maidana also flattened Ortiz in the first round, and he steadily landed punches until Ortiz finally was forced to stop, his face badly cut and terribly swollen.

“I went down, but I got up because I have a big heart,” Maidana said. “I saw that Victor felt my punches, and I said, ‘I know I can win this.”’

Ortiz (24-2-1) was the most promising youngster in Golden Boy Promotions’ stable of up-and-coming fighters, but the Kansas native couldn’t maintain his aggressive early pace and took far too many big shots. After he was rendered unsteady and bloody from the final knockdown, the ringside doctor stopped the fight.

Ortiz had knocked out his last eight opponents, but the talkative fighter was left practically speechless by Maidana’s power and resilience. He finished with a large cut near his right eye and a badly damaged left eye.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said. “I wasn’t in the zone tonight. He packs some power behind those punches. I usually keep composed, and tonight I wasn’t. … I made some mistakes. I wanted to take my time and finish him, but I was hurt.”

Ortiz connected on 42 percent of his 177 punches. Maidana was much busier with 293 punches, connecting with 23 percent.

Maidana incurred his only loss in February on a split decision against Andreas Kotelnik. Maidana felt robbed by sketchy judging that favored Kotelnik, who lives in Germany - and he left nothing to the scorecards against Ortiz.

Ortiz couldn’t live up to the expectations of an enthusiastic crowd supporting him in his first main-event bout at Staples Center, near his adopted Southern California home. Ortiz had never headlined a card in such a large venue, but Oscar De La Hoya was eager to turn him into a star.

Both fighters moved forward furiously from the opening bell, and Ortiz knocked down Maidana for the first time on a big right hand with about 1:15 left. With the crowd standing and cheering for Ortiz, Maidana improbably landed a straight right hand that put Ortiz flat on his back.

The crowd was stunned, but Ortiz popped back up, and both fighters made it to the bell. The second round was just as competitive, with the boxers trading shots until Ortiz knocked down Maidana with a right hook with about 30 seconds left - and then did it again with a shorter version of the same punch right before the bell.

But Maidana landed several big shots in the next three rounds, rocking Ortiz with two powerful right hands in the final seconds of the fifth. Ortiz also developed that big cut, which gaped open when the fight ended 46 seconds into the sixth.

“I came to look to finish him, and that’s what happened,” Maidana said. “He hits very hard, but he doesn’t have a good chin. Definitely he didn’t adjust to my rhythm.”

Chris John, the Indonesian featherweight champion who backed out of his co-main event rematch with Rocky Juarez this week because of an illness, appeared in the ring before the final bout. He waved to several hundred flag-waving Indonesian fans who bought tickets thinking they would see John’s second fight in this country.

The undercard fighters entered the ring to the strains of remixed Michael Jackson songs, and Ortiz made his ring walk to a “Beat It” and “Thriller” mash-up. A ceremonial 10-count was rung in honor of the pop star who died Thursday in Holmby Hills, about 12 miles from Staples Center. Jackson spent many nights rehearsing at the arena during the past two months for his 50 scheduled summer appearances in London.

Ortiz quit. During the interview with Max Kellerman he said "I don't deserve to get beat up like this". I'm not so sure I understand. No one deserves it but is a possibility when you decide to step into the ring. Every boxer knows that. He also said "I'm not going out on my back for anyone" (I'm paraphrasing).

Ortiz was in a tough fight to be sure, in fact it was a great fight, and he was giving a good account of himself. He came back from a knockdown early on and had down Maidona three times during the fight. The truth is he lost his will. This is not a case of a veteran fighter at the end of his career deciding he no longer had it. A lot of fighters have reached the end of their careers sitting on the stool unable, either physically of mentally, to continue. This is fighter being put to the test at the appropriate time in his career and he had no qualms about quitting.

Later, when the fight was over and people where milling around the ring, Sugar Shane Mosley was talking with Ortiz, trying to encourage him. A fighter like Mosley could never understand a fighter like Ortiz. Mosley would and has gone down swinging. If Golden Boy Promotions and boxing in general were pinning their hopes for the future of boxing on Victor Ortiz, they better look elsewhere, he's not their man.

Randy

No balls. This one must walk the plank.
He's just eliminated himself from any future considration.
I guess this is one of the reasons we enjoy this thread. We discuss real boxers, which means Victor Ortiz has no place here.


-Rick Farris

I didnt see this fight. But I trust the assessment of you guys thats for sure.
I dont understand why any fighter would rather spit the bit then get stopped out right.
It seems like it is a little more common place nowadays for a fighter to find a reason to quit rather then go out on his shield.
It used to be the first thing you heard when you started boxing . You cant quit. This is really what makes a fighter . This is what separates him from societies walking dead . Heart, balls, determination, whatever.

[Expug]

A Farrah Fawcett memory . . .

This story is not my own, but comes from another boxing writer I know who also works in the film industry.
My friend, Joe Rein, was a top TV commercial producer from the 1960's thru 90's.
He and I have worked for some of the biggest commercial production agencies and with many of the same people.
We used to E-mail each other with funny stories about the business, and this is one of his E-mails to me from 2003.
Joe has a great sense of humor. I hope you enjoy. Typical film set stuff.

(This story was copied off my E-Mail)
_________________________________________________


Rick, I thought you might like this one.
Just our talking about director's who were assholes brought this story to mind. I think you'll get a kick out of it . . .

It was the late 60's and I came to California to shoot a large commercial at the EUE/Screen Gems backlot in Burbank.

The director was a scrunched up little guy with a goatee. He looked like a disgruntled garden gnome.
Grumpy from "The Seven Dwarfs" comes to mind.

Anyway, he's one of these guys that whatever you've done, he's done something better. You went to the moon ... he went to Jupitor.
Just a major pain-in-the-ass ... so I decided to fix his wagon, and let the crew in on it.

To give you an idea how long ago this was, Farrah Fawcett was an Extra.
I saw him look at her, so I went over to him, "You want her, Bill?"
"You know her?" he asked. I said, "No problem, I'll fix it."

So I walked all the way over to the other side of the stage and asked if she was a member of Screen Actors Guild. She nodded "Yes".
Then I asked her if she had any commercials running. Again, she nodded, "Yes."
So I turned to him and give him a a big "OK" sign with my hand.

When I went back over to him, I told him to, "get rid of the wife tonight, and your girlfriend (who was staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel) and be in your room naked at 10pm and she'll be there."

After we wrapped for the day, I went and got a good friend, who was a receptionist for Jay Sebring, the hair stylist that was later murdered with Sharon Tate. I told her to call the director at 10pm and say her husband was coming home and she couldn't make it tonight. Because he had no idea what Farrah sounded like.

At 10, she calls ... and was better than my wildest dreams. She gets on with this sexy, husky voice and says she can't make it because her husband is coming home, but she wants to jump on the director's head, sit on his face ... do everything you can possibly imagine. Can she postpone until tomorrow night?

So, the next day, I ask him, "How'd it go?"
"Some confusion, but we'll meet tonight," he said.
So all day, whenever he's near her, he gives her a big wink, or a leer, and she's oblivious to everything.

Finally, they have to change film in the camera, and he sidles up to her and whispers in her ear, and she leaps backwards, like she just found a turd in her lunch. "WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?.

He stood there without turning to face us, because he knew he'd been had. When he finally turned around, steam coming out of his ears, the crew was all over the place, laughing.

For the rest of the shoot, he never acted again like he had a stick up his ass, and he also never spoke to me again . . . ever.


-Rick Farris

Beautiful

[Expug]

Speaking of sharp dressed fighters, I gotta throw Billy Conn into the mix.
That Irishman could put himself together real well. Good dresser.

From the photos I've seen Conn was a sharp dresser. He carried himself like a pro and the ladies really went for him. here are a few examples:








Randy

Great shots Randy. Thanks.
S.I . did a great article years ago about Billy and how he met his bride called something like "The prizefighter and the blond". Something like that.
It tells the story of Billy and hs wife of many many years.
It also talked about how Billy busted his hand on his Father in Laws head during a fight in his kitchen.
I think the Father in laws name was something like "Greenfield Jimmy Smith " or something colorful like that. He was a minor league baseball player and a pugnacious son of a gun also. The two of them didnt get along real well. I believe the bustedhand forced Conn to postpone a big fight.
Could you imagine the media getting a hold of an incident like that nowadays?
Superstar athlete busts hand on Father in Laws skull. It woud be a fiasco.
To old school micks, its just another family function.

[kikibalt]

Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge living on streets of Camden, estranged from family, abusing drugs and alcohol

by Todd Schmerler/For The Star-Ledger
Sunday June 28, 2009


John O'Boyle/The Star-Ledger
Rocky Lockridge sits on a street corner in Camden. The former boxing champion is homeless and living on the streets of Camden.

There's a convenience store on the corner, but it's not drawing as much interest as the woman openly dealing drugs, shouting, "Five dollars, five dollars," to anyone who passes.
Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge is homeless in Camden


In the midst of it all, a brown sedan stops, the car idling in the middle of the street. A middle-age man gets out and quick-steps to the top of the stoop to greet Lockridge with a fist bump and a quick man-hug. After a few quiet words, he gets back into the car and drives off.

Others take turns approaching Lockridge to exchange pleasantries. One is a 20-something girl named Laquicha Smith, who seems excited to tell an outsider about the special man sitting on the cement steps.

"That's Rocky. He's the champ," she says. "He's still got it."

The Champ looks out across the familiar street corner, his head held high. But his face is swollen by scar tissue around the eyes and more than one tooth is missing. A silver metal four-prong walking cane he now needs to walk is balanced across his knees.

His fingers tremble as he lifts a cigarette to his lips and his voice is raspy and hard to make out.

"Everybody kisses me, calls out, 'Champ, Champ, Champ,' " Lockridge says. "I get joy being around them because they're going through the struggle, same as me."

The struggle is li ving on the streets of Camden, where Lockridge has been for more than 10 years. It has been a long way to fall for a two-time world boxing champion.

Lockridge, who climbed the rankings while fighting out of Ice World in Totowa from 1978-81, has no money. His body tilts to one side when he walks, the result of a stroke he says he suffered three years ago. His scraggly, graying beard makes him seem far older than 50, the age he reached on Jan. 30.

He admits he has a more than two-decades-old drug problem -- "I do quite a bit of drinkin' and druggin'," he says -- and that he's been estranged from his ex-wife and kids for nearly that long.

But he won't take all the blame for his predicament. He blames the boxing industry for much of it.

"I'm bitter. I'm very bitter," he says, the words coming out slowly and unsteadily. "I made some mistakes, a whole lot of mistakes, but they were beyond my imagination. The blow that was put upon me was harder to take than the blows, or any blow, for that matter, that I received in the fight game."

It didn't have to be like this for Lockridge.

A former world champion suffering financial difficulties is hardly sho cking, considering the history of boxing, lack of formal education of most fighters and the absence of a pension or retirement plan from any of the sport's governing bodies.

Lockridge was different.

Particularly bright, articulate and good looking, Lockridge was a natural in front of the cameras and seemed to enjoy his time in the spotlight. After relocating from Tacoma, Wash., at the age of 19 in 1978, Lockridge lived in Paterson as he came up through the ranks, fighting for Main Events, an enterprise of the Duva family, with his early fights at Ice World, a cavernous converted skating rink in Totowa.

Lockridge was the rare fighter who considered a post-boxing career. He looked studious, wearing wide, horn-rimmed glasses, and took classes in business at William Paterson University in Wayne for two years.

Kathy Duva, now the CEO and then the publicist for Main Events, remembers Lockridge being different.

"Rocky was always a low-key person with an easygoing personality," she says. "He was quiet, articulate, a wonderful guy."

After two unsuccessful attempts to win a featherweight title in the early '80s, Lockridge moved up to super featherweight and the extra five pounds suited him. He won a couple of big fights and then knocked out Roger Mayweather -- the uncle and trainer of current superstar Floyd Mayweather Jr. -- in the first round to win the WBA title on Feb. 26, 1984.


The Mayweather fight, a one-punch knockout, lasted only 91 seconds and launched him to a new level in boxing circles. Lockridge was 25 with a record of 32-3.
He and his wife, Carolyn, took his winnings and moved from Paterson to Mount Laurel, a tony suburb of Philadelphia in South Jersey. Carolyn gave birth to twins Ricky and Lamar on August 23, 1984.

The future was bright.

Boxing careers usually are short. So when Lockridge lost his title to Wilfredo Gomez in 1985, then lost a year later to Julio Cesar Chavez, no one would have been surprised if Lockridge had reached the end.

He hadn't.

He won his next two fights and earned another title shot, stopping Barry Michael after eight rounds in England in 1987 to win the IBF super featherweight title.

A year later he lost his title in a unanimous decision to Tony Lopez in a brutal 12-round bout that was named 1988 Fight of the Year by Ring Magazine. He would lose the equally bloody rematch a year later, then retire after one last victory in 1989.

As bad as his beatings were in the ring, the abuse he put his body through when he was out of it may have been worse.

After each fight, Lockridge says he would party "two weekend s." He snorted cocaine and abused alcohol, drinking "whatever was around," he says.

When he needed money, he says he would ask the Duvas for it and they would always give it to him. Now, he says they shouldn't have been so forthcoming.

"Not only was I not in control financially, but it really didn't matter to me at the time," he said. "I wanted the best for myself and my loved ones. There was never any resistance in terms of saying, 'Champ, you're out of order with the financial thing.' It is what it is. It is what it is now."

Lockridge says he was "raped financially," but there's no evidence of that. Kathy Duva said Lockridge made money, but not the kind one could expect to live on forever. Even Lockridge admits his biggest payday came from the fight with Chavez, and that was only $200,000, he estimates.

"He had a family, children, divorce, he bought a house," Kathy Duva says. "The money goes away. People who abuse drugs end up in desperate straits frequently. That's a shame, but it's a choice they make."

After 2 1/2 years out of the ring, Lockridge attempted an ill-fated comeback at age 33 under new management based in Washington.

The comeback lasted just two fights -- both losses.

His final record: 44 wins, 36 knockouts, 9 losses and $0 in the bank.

Rocky, Carolyn and their two boys had moved back to Tacoma a year and a half after Lockridge's original retirement, in 1991, but th e family didn't stay together for long.
Rocky and Carolyn split up shortly thereafter -- partially, Lockridge says, due to the stress of being broke and partially because he didn't know what to do without boxing. Drug addiction, Lockridge admits, may have played a part, too. Carolyn Lockridge could not be reached for comment.

In 1993, at age 34, Lockridge moved back to Camden. Alone.

"I could not handle not being involved in the fight game, not being a fighter or even partaking in the fight game as a trainer and/or manager," he says. "My wife, Carolyn, we both were somewhat slapped in the face and she realized Rocky couldn't handle the blow, what is he going to do? I just didn't know how to handle that. Her and I both began to see that we weren't going to be the team that we at one time had been -- inseparable."

Lockridge took a job working for William Jones & Son, Inc. in Camden, a drum and barrel company on Liberty Street, where he cleaned and painted barrels for $8 per hour starting in January 1994.

Shortly thereafter, he was arrested for burglary -- the first time -- but was sentenced to five years probation, according to court records. Three years later, he was arrested for burglary again, this time serving 27 months before being released in July of 1999.

He hasn't worked since.

When he got out of jail, he found he had nowhere to go and ended up on the streets.

"I don't know exactly what happened or how it happened or what happened at that particular time in my life," he says.

One thing he does remember is going back to using drugs.

"I knew a lot of people who I partied with here in Camden after a victory," he says.
Lockridge says that if you're going to be homeless, Camden is the place to be. There are many different places that will give you a free meal, many shelters that will put you up for a night.
Lockridge lives on the $140 a month and food stamps he receives from the government -- as well as pocket change he gets from panhandling. He says the stroke he suffered three years ago makes it difficult to walk, no less hold a job.

He sleeps in shelters occasionally but admits he's had issues committing to a shelter because the curfew is sometimes as early as 7 p.m. Lately, he has slept in a mosquito-infested abandoned row house around the block from his regular corner.

And he continues to have troubles with the law, though his last arrest -- for criminal trespassing in May -- resulted only in community service.

Lockridge's troubles are similar to issues many other former fighters face. In many cases, some feel20it's inevitable.

Former middleweight Alex Ramos, a friend of Lockridge's who founded the Retired Boxers Foundation in 1998, says boxers aren't equipped to handle life out of the ring. They are not trained in financial responsibility and, unlike other sports, there is no union to turn to for help.

"Boxers don't come from the Ivy Leagues and Beverly Hills, they come from ghettos and Third World countries, looking to get themselves out of poverty," he says. "A lot of times it's sad what happens to a lot of fighters when they retire."

Scott Frank, who fought out of Ice World at the same time as Lockridge, says promoters and managers (in Lockridge's case, the Duvas) should be responsible for putting aside money for when their boxers can't fight anymore.

"Lou always said Rocky was like a son to him, so how do you do that to your son?" Frank says. "He made enough money that they should have put some away for him, they should have taken care of him.

"What's $200 a week for life for a guy like Lou? Rocky fought his heart out for him."

Duva says he would be open to offering Lockridge a job training boxers -- but only if he stays clean and sober.
Orlando Pettigrew, a mail carrier and Camden resident, has befriended Lockridge in the last year after hearing that a former world champ was living on the streets. He looks out for Lockridge.

"He's a nice guy, he just needs to find his way again," Pettigrew says. "People call him The Champ, they greet him, hug him. People still look up to him. Any time I see him, that's what I see.

"It has to be hard, going from living in Mount Laurel to living here."

Lockridge doesn't mind losing his house as much as losing his family.

As he sits on his stoop, smoking a cigarette, he talks about why he is finally ready to turn his life around, find a place to live, give up drinking and drugs.

"I'm going to get it back together and say no to drugs," he said. "I've got a family that I want to spend some time with 'til my time is up on Planet Earth. I'm on a mission now, perhaps even greater than my mission before. My kids need me in their lives, experience being the best teacher."

Lockridge says he recently was tracked down by his son, Ricky, now 24, who lives in the Washington, D.C., area near Lamar. The twins were surprised to find out a few months ago that they have a half-brother, Ramond Dixon, 22, born in Camden but who now also lives in the D.C. area. The three have become close -- but they remain distant from their father.

"I remember spending time with him when=2 0I was 3 or 4, but he was never there at a steady pace," Ramond, known as "Ron-Ron," says. "Even though my dad wasn't there for me growing up, I never really had harsh feelings. I never was really upset. As a man now I can see that people make mistakes."

Ricky Lockridge has mixed feelings.

"It's sad. It hurts," he says about his dad's predicament. "But I never lost confidence in my dad, he's a strong person."

Lockridge says reuniting with his boys is his inspiration for cleaning up his life.

"Now I'm ready for this, mentally and physically, to get me back on track," Lockridge says. "I am in dire need of that kind of support and I want it. I've been knocked down. Now I'm finally ready to get back up."

The Retired Boxers Foundation says it will help him -- like his kids and Duva -- but only will do so if he gives up drugs and alcohol and sticks in a shelter.

"Rocky would be eligible for supplemental security income, which would provide a monthly check, housing and Medi-Cal, but one of the requirements is that he is sober," Jacquie Richardson, executive director of the RBF, says. "Boxers don't always want to accept help. Beyond brain injuries, the shame is overwhelming. They have regrets about what they didn't do, the mistakes they made, and it's really hard to forgive themselves. It keeps them hiding out where they are."

Lockridge says the need to see his sons and help them avoid the mistakes he made is the20motivating force to clean up and accept the help of outsiders.

"Edumacation is the best occupation," he jokes. "Knowing how to handle your money, stay educated in all the areas so perhaps what happened to me will never happen to anyone else.

"It hurts. It hurts. In more ways than one, it hurts. How can you be a great man, father and husband ... how can you be a great champion and not be a great father, husband? Dad? It hurts. But I'm still alive. I can't make up for the lost time, but I can just get there, be there, spend the rest of the time with my wife and children and give them the time that I have left."

[Chuck1052]

I saw Rocky Lockridge being stopped by Juan Laporte in person at the Showboat Casino during the early 1980s. But Lockridge was a good fighter. It is too bad that he has been homeless in recent years.

- Chuck Johnston

[bennie]

I saw Rocky Lockridge being stopped by Juan Laporte in person at the Showboat Casino during the early 1980s. But Lockridge was a good fighter. It is too bad that he has been homeless in recent years.

- Chuck Johnston

Yes, Laporte could really whack but Lockridge proved later to have a solid jaw, which shows you just how deceiving (and freakish) some boxing results can be. Lockridge lost a closish one to Chavez in Monte Carlo and I would go as far as to hail him the third best super-featherweight of the 1980s, behind Chavez and Nelson. He was robbed against Gomez.
This is shocking.

[kikibalt]

[Rick Farris]

World Boxing Hall of Fame

The 2009 WBHOF Inductees are:

Boxer Catagory:

Orlando Canizalez
Brian Mitchell
Rafael Herrera
Lucia Rijker


Expanded Catagory:

Al Bernstein
Dr. James Jen Kin
Amilcar Brusa


Posthumous:

George Dixon
Alphonse Halimi
Lily Rodriguez




-Rick Farris
WBHOF Selection Commitee Chairman

[Expug]

Great choices for the wbhof!

Al Bernstein , who I consider a fine announcer started out in Chicago.
Back in the early eighties there was a local cable station called Sportsvision.
They would do the Chicago White Sox games , Chicago Blackhawks games and local pro boxing promoted by Cedric Kushner.
He did commentary for two of my fights that were televised.
He used to call me "Irish" Brian Higgins, the pride of the Southwest side.
Very fond memory.
I look forward to seeing Al. Maybe I can roll this down memory lane with him.

[Rick Farris]

Great choices for the wbhof!

Al Bernstein , who I consider a fine announcer started out in Chicago.
Back in the early eighties there was a local cable station called Sportsvision.
They would do the Chicago White Sox games , Chicago Blackhawks games and local pro boxing promoted by Cedric Kushner.
He did commentary for two of my fights that were televised.
He used to call me "Irish" Brian Higgins, the pride of the Southwest side.
Very fond memory.
I look forward to seeing Al. Maybe I can roll this down memory lane with him.

Brian . . .

Al Bernstein aced the ballot, gaining far more votes than anybody in any catagory.
He is a great announcer and one of the classiest men involved with boxing.
Speaking of Chicago, we have a new a new director at the WBHOF and that's attorney Ken Greene.
Ken is a Chicago guy and has written a book about Division Street.
I want to be sure he meets you and Dan Hanley in October.


-Rick Farris

[Randyman]

Almost all the write ups I have seen on the Maidana vs Ortiz fight claim that referee Raul Caiz stopped the fight. This has to be one of the most sugar coated loss I have seen. I take my hat off to Thomas Hauser for telling it like it is. Randy


The Lesson of Ortiz-Maidana
By Thomas Hauser

On June 27th, HBO televised what was supposed to be Victor Ortiz’s coronation as the WBA “interim junior-welterweight champion of the world.”

The 22-year-old Ortiz has been groomed for stardom and still might make it there someday. But at a point in his career when the competition should have been stepped up to harden him for a championship run, he was put in soft. That enabled Victor to preserve his unbeaten record and look great on television. But it didn’t prepare him to fight Marcos Maidana (a rugged Argentinean with a solid punch who comes to fight).

At the start of HBO’s June 27th Boxing After Dark telecast, Max Kellerman surveyed the 140-pound division beginning with Manny Pacquiao and optimistically proclaimed, “Victor Ortiz may have the most star potential of them all.”

Then reality set in.

Ortiz dropped Maidana midway through round one, only to have the favor quickly returned. Unlike Marcos, Victor was hurt. But he fought back and did enough to even the stanza. Then, in round two, he knocked Maidana down twice.

The slugfest continued in round three with each man aggressively forcing the action. Kellerman informed the viewing audience that, while he had heard “whispers” about Ortiz’s chin, “clearly, Ortiz has a lot of heart.”

Actually, in boxing, the chin is often connected to the heart, as became evident three rounds later.

In round four, Ortiz seemed to be tiring. Gut-check time was fast approaching.

Round five was a big one for Maidana. He began landing solid right hands; took everything that Ortiz had to offer; and when backed against the ropes, landed a hard left hook that opened a terrible gash along Victor’s right eyebrow.

In some jurisdictions, when that happens to the house fighter, a phantom clash of heads is said to have caused the wound. Referee Raul Caiz Sr properly ruled that the cut was caused by a punch.

By the end of round five, Maidana was pummeling Ortiz at will with right hands.

In round six, Marcos picked up where he’d left off, trapping Victor against the ropes and putting him on the canvas with a left hook to the body. At that point, either the referee or Ortiz’s corner could have stopped the action and no one would have complained. Instead, Victor rose and waved the fight off himself.

Caiz went through the charade of taking Ortiz to the corner to be examined by the ring doctor, but it was clear that Victor had no intention of fighting anymore. The time of the stoppage was 46 seconds of the sixth round.

Afterward, Ortiz informed a national television audience, “I’m not going to go out on my back. I’m not going to lay down for nobody. I’d rather just stop when I’m ahead. That way, I can speak well when I’m older. I’m young, but I don’t think I deserve to get beat up like this. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”

Give Ortiz credit for candor. But getting hit hard is part of the deal if you want to be a boxer.

So let’s look at the lessons to be learned in the wake of Ortiz-Maidana.


At the start of 2009, HBO told boxing fans that the next generation of stars included Victor Ortiz, Alfredo Angulo, James Kirkland, and Robert Guerrero. All four were put in soft to build their reputations.

Kirkland is now in jail. Angulo was exposed (and beaten) by Kermit Cintron. Guerrero begged out after being cut by an accidental head butt in a fight against 10-to-1 underdog Daud Yordan. Now, Ortiz has been knocked out.

A television network has the power to give fighters exposure. A television network has the power to steer fighters to a particular promoter. A television network cannot (repeat, cannot) create stars.

In boxing, stars create themselves. Very few people knew who Marco Antonio Barrera, Erik Morales, and Arturo Gatti were before HBO put them on Boxing After Dark a decade ago. But the public tuned in because they trusted HBO to deliver quality fights. And the fighters who delivered in those fights became stars.

Instead of trying to anoint stars, HBO should create the next generation of stars by continually matching the best young prospects against the best young prospects (not against overmatched foes). If a fighter doesn’t want to go in tough, let him fight somewhere else for ten thousand dollars.

Ortiz-Maidana was a great fight. It might not have been great for Ortiz or his manager or his promoter. But it was great entertainment for the viewers who watched it because Ortiz was in tough.

So apply the lessons of Ortiz-Maidana to the future.

HBO won’t televise another fight until August 22nd, when Paulie Malignaggi goes to Houston to take on Juan Diaz, the referee, and three judges. Let’s hope that, when the network finalizes its fall schedule, it demands competitive fights across the board.

* * *

Who would win a fight showcasing David Haye or Chris Arreola against Vitali or Wladimir Klitschko?

Either Klitschko would be heavily favored.

Okay. Who would win a fight between David Haye and Chris Arreola?

Knowledgeable fight fans are evenly divided.

So shouldn’t HBO press for Haye vs. Arreola? It would be an entertaining fight and the winner would emerge as a more credible challenger to either Klitschko than is now the case.


Thomas Hauser can be reached by e-mail at [email protected] His most recent book (“The Boxing Scene”) was published this year by Temple University Press.

[Randyman]

World Boxing Hall of Fame

The 2009 WBHOF Inductees are:

Boxer Catagory:

Orlando Canizalez
Brian Mitchell
Rafael Herrera
Lucia Rijker


Expanded Catagory:

Al Bernstein
Dr. James Jen Kin
Amilcar Brusa


Posthumous:

Joe Dixon
Alphonse Halimi
Lily Rodriguez




-Rick Farris
WBHOF Selection Commitee Chairman

Fine choices Rick. I'm also especially glad to see Al Bernstein being inducted to the WBHF. He has always been one of my favorite announcers. He made ESPN back in the day. He deserves it, they all do.

Randy

[Randyman]

Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge living on streets of Camden, estranged from family, abusing drugs and alcohol

by Todd Schmerler/For The Star-Ledger
Sunday June 28, 2009


John O'Boyle/The Star-Ledger
Rocky Lockridge sits on a street corner in Camden. The former boxing champion is homeless and living on the streets of Camden.

There's a convenience store on the corner, but it's not drawing as much interest as the woman openly dealing drugs, shouting, "Five dollars, five dollars," to anyone who passes.
Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge is homeless in Camden


In the midst of it all, a brown sedan stops, the car idling in the middle of the street. A middle-age man gets out and quick-steps to the top of the stoop to greet Lockridge with a fist bump and a quick man-hug. After a few quiet words, he gets back into the car and drives off.

Others take turns approaching Lockridge to exchange pleasantries. One is a 20-something girl named Laquicha Smith, who seems excited to tell an outsider about the special man sitting on the cement steps.

"That's Rocky. He's the champ," she says. "He's still got it."

The Champ looks out across the familiar street corner, his head held high. But his face is swollen by scar tissue around the eyes and more than one tooth is missing. A silver metal four-prong walking cane he now needs to walk is balanced across his knees.

His fingers tremble as he lifts a cigarette to his lips and his voice is raspy and hard to make out.

"Everybody kisses me, calls out, 'Champ, Champ, Champ,' " Lockridge says. "I get joy being around them because they're going through the struggle, same as me."

The struggle is li ving on the streets of Camden, where Lockridge has been for more than 10 years. It has been a long way to fall for a two-time world boxing champion.

Lockridge, who climbed the rankings while fighting out of Ice World in Totowa from 1978-81, has no money. His body tilts to one side when he walks, the result of a stroke he says he suffered three years ago. His scraggly, graying beard makes him seem far older than 50, the age he reached on Jan. 30.

He admits he has a more than two-decades-old drug problem -- "I do quite a bit of drinkin' and druggin'," he says -- and that he's been estranged from his ex-wife and kids for nearly that long.

But he won't take all the blame for his predicament. He blames the boxing industry for much of it.

"I'm bitter. I'm very bitter," he says, the words coming out slowly and unsteadily. "I made some mistakes, a whole lot of mistakes, but they were beyond my imagination. The blow that was put upon me was harder to take than the blows, or any blow, for that matter, that I received in the fight game."

It didn't have to be like this for Lockridge.

A former world champion suffering financial difficulties is hardly sho cking, considering the history of boxing, lack of formal education of most fighters and the absence of a pension or retirement plan from any of the sport's governing bodies.

Lockridge was different.

Particularly bright, articulate and good looking, Lockridge was a natural in front of the cameras and seemed to enjoy his time in the spotlight. After relocating from Tacoma, Wash., at the age of 19 in 1978, Lockridge lived in Paterson as he came up through the ranks, fighting for Main Events, an enterprise of the Duva family, with his early fights at Ice World, a cavernous converted skating rink in Totowa.

Lockridge was the rare fighter who considered a post-boxing career. He looked studious, wearing wide, horn-rimmed glasses, and took classes in business at William Paterson University in Wayne for two years.

Kathy Duva, now the CEO and then the publicist for Main Events, remembers Lockridge being different.

"Rocky was always a low-key person with an easygoing personality," she says. "He was quiet, articulate, a wonderful guy."

After two unsuccessful attempts to win a featherweight title in the early '80s, Lockridge moved up to super featherweight and the extra five pounds suited him. He won a couple of big fights and then knocked out Roger Mayweather -- the uncle and trainer of current superstar Floyd Mayweather Jr. -- in the first round to win the WBA title on Feb. 26, 1984.


The Mayweather fight, a one-punch knockout, lasted only 91 seconds and launched him to a new level in boxing circles. Lockridge was 25 with a record of 32-3.
He and his wife, Carolyn, took his winnings and moved from Paterson to Mount Laurel, a tony suburb of Philadelphia in South Jersey. Carolyn gave birth to twins Ricky and Lamar on August 23, 1984.

The future was bright.

Boxing careers usually are short. So when Lockridge lost his title to Wilfredo Gomez in 1985, then lost a year later to Julio Cesar Chavez, no one would have been surprised if Lockridge had reached the end.

He hadn't.

He won his next two fights and earned another title shot, stopping Barry Michael after eight rounds in England in 1987 to win the IBF super featherweight title.

A year later he lost his title in a unanimous decision to Tony Lopez in a brutal 12-round bout that was named 1988 Fight of the Year by Ring Magazine. He would lose the equally bloody rematch a year later, then retire after one last victory in 1989.

As bad as his beatings were in the ring, the abuse he put his body through when he was out of it may have been worse.

After each fight, Lockridge says he would party "two weekend s." He snorted cocaine and abused alcohol, drinking "whatever was around," he says.

When he needed money, he says he would ask the Duvas for it and they would always give it to him. Now, he says they shouldn't have been so forthcoming.

"Not only was I not in control financially, but it really didn't matter to me at the time," he said. "I wanted the best for myself and my loved ones. There was never any resistance in terms of saying, 'Champ, you're out of order with the financial thing.' It is what it is. It is what it is now."

Lockridge says he was "raped financially," but there's no evidence of that. Kathy Duva said Lockridge made money, but not the kind one could expect to live on forever. Even Lockridge admits his biggest payday came from the fight with Chavez, and that was only $200,000, he estimates.

"He had a family, children, divorce, he bought a house," Kathy Duva says. "The money goes away. People who abuse drugs end up in desperate straits frequently. That's a shame, but it's a choice they make."

After 2 1/2 years out of the ring, Lockridge attempted an ill-fated comeback at age 33 under new management based in Washington.

The comeback lasted just two fights -- both losses.

His final record: 44 wins, 36 knockouts, 9 losses and $0 in the bank.

Rocky, Carolyn and their two boys had moved back to Tacoma a year and a half after Lockridge's original retirement, in 1991, but th e family didn't stay together for long.
Rocky and Carolyn split up shortly thereafter -- partially, Lockridge says, due to the stress of being broke and partially because he didn't know what to do without boxing. Drug addiction, Lockridge admits, may have played a part, too. Carolyn Lockridge could not be reached for comment.

In 1993, at age 34, Lockridge moved back to Camden. Alone.

"I could not handle not being involved in the fight game, not being a fighter or even partaking in the fight game as a trainer and/or manager," he says. "My wife, Carolyn, we both were somewhat slapped in the face and she realized Rocky couldn't handle the blow, what is he going to do? I just didn't know how to handle that. Her and I both began to see that we weren't going to be the team that we at one time had been -- inseparable."

Lockridge took a job working for William Jones & Son, Inc. in Camden, a drum and barrel company on Liberty Street, where he cleaned and painted barrels for $8 per hour starting in January 1994.

Shortly thereafter, he was arrested for burglary -- the first time -- but was sentenced to five years probation, according to court records. Three years later, he was arrested for burglary again, this time serving 27 months before being released in July of 1999.

He hasn't worked since.

When he got out of jail, he found he had nowhere to go and ended up on the streets.

"I don't know exactly what happened or how it happened or what happened at that particular time in my life," he says.

One thing he does remember is going back to using drugs.

"I knew a lot of people who I partied with here in Camden after a victory," he says.
Lockridge says that if you're going to be homeless, Camden is the place to be. There are many different places that will give you a free meal, many shelters that will put you up for a night.
Lockridge lives on the $140 a month and food stamps he receives from the government -- as well as pocket change he gets from panhandling. He says the stroke he suffered three years ago makes it difficult to walk, no less hold a job.

He sleeps in shelters occasionally but admits he's had issues committing to a shelter because the curfew is sometimes as early as 7 p.m. Lately, he has slept in a mosquito-infested abandoned row house around the block from his regular corner.

And he continues to have troubles with the law, though his last arrest -- for criminal trespassing in May -- resulted only in community service.

Lockridge's troubles are similar to issues many other former fighters face. In many cases, some feel20it's inevitable.

Former middleweight Alex Ramos, a friend of Lockridge's who founded the Retired Boxers Foundation in 1998, says boxers aren't equipped to handle life out of the ring. They are not trained in financial responsibility and, unlike other sports, there is no union to turn to for help.

"Boxers don't come from the Ivy Leagues and Beverly Hills, they come from ghettos and Third World countries, looking to get themselves out of poverty," he says. "A lot of times it's sad what happens to a lot of fighters when they retire."

Scott Frank, who fought out of Ice World at the same time as Lockridge, says promoters and managers (in Lockridge's case, the Duvas) should be responsible for putting aside money for when their boxers can't fight anymore.

"Lou always said Rocky was like a son to him, so how do you do that to your son?" Frank says. "He made enough money that they should have put some away for him, they should have taken care of him.

"What's $200 a week for life for a guy like Lou? Rocky fought his heart out for him."

Duva says he would be open to offering Lockridge a job training boxers -- but only if he stays clean and sober.
Orlando Pettigrew, a mail carrier and Camden resident, has befriended Lockridge in the last year after hearing that a former world champ was living on the streets. He looks out for Lockridge.

"He's a nice guy, he just needs to find his way again," Pettigrew says. "People call him The Champ, they greet him, hug him. People still look up to him. Any time I see him, that's what I see.

"It has to be hard, going from living in Mount Laurel to living here."

Lockridge doesn't mind losing his house as much as losing his family.

As he sits on his stoop, smoking a cigarette, he talks about why he is finally ready to turn his life around, find a place to live, give up drinking and drugs.

"I'm going to get it back together and say no to drugs," he said. "I've got a family that I want to spend some time with 'til my time is up on Planet Earth. I'm on a mission now, perhaps even greater than my mission before. My kids need me in their lives, experience being the best teacher."

Lockridge says he recently was tracked down by his son, Ricky, now 24, who lives in the Washington, D.C., area near Lamar. The twins were surprised to find out a few months ago that they have a half-brother, Ramond Dixon, 22, born in Camden but who now also lives in the D.C. area. The three have become close -- but they remain distant from their father.

"I remember spending time with him when=2 0I was 3 or 4, but he was never there at a steady pace," Ramond, known as "Ron-Ron," says. "Even though my dad wasn't there for me growing up, I never really had harsh feelings. I never was really upset. As a man now I can see that people make mistakes."

Ricky Lockridge has mixed feelings.

"It's sad. It hurts," he says about his dad's predicament. "But I never lost confidence in my dad, he's a strong person."

Lockridge says reuniting with his boys is his inspiration for cleaning up his life.

"Now I'm ready for this, mentally and physically, to get me back on track," Lockridge says. "I am in dire need of that kind of support and I want it. I've been knocked down. Now I'm finally ready to get back up."

The Retired Boxers Foundation says it will help him -- like his kids and Duva -- but only will do so if he gives up drugs and alcohol and sticks in a shelter.

"Rocky would be eligible for supplemental security income, which would provide a monthly check, housing and Medi-Cal, but one of the requirements is that he is sober," Jacquie Richardson, executive director of the RBF, says. "Boxers don't always want to accept help. Beyond brain injuries, the shame is overwhelming. They have regrets about what they didn't do, the mistakes they made, and it's really hard to forgive themselves. It keeps them hiding out where they are."

Lockridge says the need to see his sons and help them avoid the mistakes he made is the20motivating force to clean up and accept the help of outsiders.

"Edumacation is the best occupation," he jokes. "Knowing how to handle your money, stay educated in all the areas so perhaps what happened to me will never happen to anyone else.

"It hurts. It hurts. In more ways than one, it hurts. How can you be a great man, father and husband ... how can you be a great champion and not be a great father, husband? Dad? It hurts. But I'm still alive. I can't make up for the lost time, but I can just get there, be there, spend the rest of the time with my wife and children and give them the time that I have left."

Absolutely Shocking!! Rocky was a hell of a fighter. He literally fought all the best of his era and ducked no one. This is just too much!

Rocky's record reads like a who's who:
http://www.boxrec.com/list_bouts.php?hu ... &cat=boxer

[Randyman]

"Irish" Brian Higgins, the pride of the Southwest side. Man, I like that!

Randy

[Expug]

Thanks Randy.
Ricks right about what a classy guy Al Bernstein is.

October is right around the corner. Im looking forward to breaking bread with you and the rest of the crew.

[kikibalt]

Absolutely Shocking!! Rocky was a hell of a fighter. He literally fought all the best of his era and ducked no one. This is just too much!

Rocky's record reads like a who's who:
http://www.boxrec.com/list_bouts.php?hu ... &cat=boxer

Looking at Rocky Lockridge record I see that he fought Eusebio Pedroza twice, coming short both times, and in Pedroza's record I see he fought Ernesto Herrera for the WBA world featherweight title (7-2-1978), Pedroza winning by late round ko, on September 21, 1978 Frankie fought Herrera at the Olympic, Frankie won by a 5th round ko.

[Randyman]

Absolutely Shocking!! Rocky was a hell of a fighter. He literally fought all the best of his era and ducked no one. This is just too much!

Rocky's record reads like a who's who:
http://www.boxrec.com/list_bouts.php?hu ... &cat=boxer

Looking at Rocky Lockridge record I see that he fought Eusebio Pedroza twice, coming short both times, and in Pedroza's record I see he fought Ernesto Herrera for the WBA world featherweight title (7-2-1978), Pedroza winning by late round ko, on September 21, 1978 Frankie fought Herrera at the Olympic, Frankie won by a 5th round ko.

You didn't baby the boys with soft touches , did you Frank? Both were standout contenders in a tough era. I can't imagine someone like Victor Ortiz going the distance with Tony the Tiger. it was a different time.

Randy

[Expug]

Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge living on streets of Camden, estranged from family, abusing drugs and alcohol

by Todd Schmerler/For The Star-Ledger
Sunday June 28, 2009


John O'Boyle/The Star-Ledger
Rocky Lockridge sits on a street corner in Camden. The former boxing champion is homeless and living on the streets of Camden.

There's a convenience store on the corner, but it's not drawing as much interest as the woman openly dealing drugs, shouting, "Five dollars, five dollars," to anyone who passes.
Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge is homeless in Camden


In the midst of it all, a brown sedan stops, the car idling in the middle of the street. A middle-age man gets out and quick-steps to the top of the stoop to greet Lockridge with a fist bump and a quick man-hug. After a few quiet words, he gets back into the car and drives off.

Others take turns approaching Lockridge to exchange pleasantries. One is a 20-something girl named Laquicha Smith, who seems excited to tell an outsider about the special man sitting on the cement steps.

"That's Rocky. He's the champ," she says. "He's still got it."

The Champ looks out across the familiar street corner, his head held high. But his face is swollen by scar tissue around the eyes and more than one tooth is missing. A silver metal four-prong walking cane he now needs to walk is balanced across his knees.

His fingers tremble as he lifts a cigarette to his lips and his voice is raspy and hard to make out.

"Everybody kisses me, calls out, 'Champ, Champ, Champ,' " Lockridge says. "I get joy being around them because they're going through the struggle, same as me."

The struggle is li ving on the streets of Camden, where Lockridge has been for more than 10 years. It has been a long way to fall for a two-time world boxing champion.

Lockridge, who climbed the rankings while fighting out of Ice World in Totowa from 1978-81, has no money. His body tilts to one side when he walks, the result of a stroke he says he suffered three years ago. His scraggly, graying beard makes him seem far older than 50, the age he reached on Jan. 30.

He admits he has a more than two-decades-old drug problem -- "I do quite a bit of drinkin' and druggin'," he says -- and that he's been estranged from his ex-wife and kids for nearly that long.

But he won't take all the blame for his predicament. He blames the boxing industry for much of it.

"I'm bitter. I'm very bitter," he says, the words coming out slowly and unsteadily. "I made some mistakes, a whole lot of mistakes, but they were beyond my imagination. The blow that was put upon me was harder to take than the blows, or any blow, for that matter, that I received in the fight game."

It didn't have to be like this for Lockridge.

A former world champion suffering financial difficulties is hardly sho cking, considering the history of boxing, lack of formal education of most fighters and the absence of a pension or retirement plan from any of the sport's governing bodies.

Lockridge was different.

Particularly bright, articulate and good looking, Lockridge was a natural in front of the cameras and seemed to enjoy his time in the spotlight. After relocating from Tacoma, Wash., at the age of 19 in 1978, Lockridge lived in Paterson as he came up through the ranks, fighting for Main Events, an enterprise of the Duva family, with his early fights at Ice World, a cavernous converted skating rink in Totowa.

Lockridge was the rare fighter who considered a post-boxing career. He looked studious, wearing wide, horn-rimmed glasses, and took classes in business at William Paterson University in Wayne for two years.

Kathy Duva, now the CEO and then the publicist for Main Events, remembers Lockridge being different.

"Rocky was always a low-key person with an easygoing personality," she says. "He was quiet, articulate, a wonderful guy."

After two unsuccessful attempts to win a featherweight title in the early '80s, Lockridge moved up to super featherweight and the extra five pounds suited him. He won a couple of big fights and then knocked out Roger Mayweather -- the uncle and trainer of current superstar Floyd Mayweather Jr. -- in the first round to win the WBA title on Feb. 26, 1984.


The Mayweather fight, a one-punch knockout, lasted only 91 seconds and launched him to a new level in boxing circles. Lockridge was 25 with a record of 32-3.
He and his wife, Carolyn, took his winnings and moved from Paterson to Mount Laurel, a tony suburb of Philadelphia in South Jersey. Carolyn gave birth to twins Ricky and Lamar on August 23, 1984.

The future was bright.

Boxing careers usually are short. So when Lockridge lost his title to Wilfredo Gomez in 1985, then lost a year later to Julio Cesar Chavez, no one would have been surprised if Lockridge had reached the end.

He hadn't.

He won his next two fights and earned another title shot, stopping Barry Michael after eight rounds in England in 1987 to win the IBF super featherweight title.

A year later he lost his title in a unanimous decision to Tony Lopez in a brutal 12-round bout that was named 1988 Fight of the Year by Ring Magazine. He would lose the equally bloody rematch a year later, then retire after one last victory in 1989.

As bad as his beatings were in the ring, the abuse he put his body through when he was out of it may have been worse.

After each fight, Lockridge says he would party "two weekend s." He snorted cocaine and abused alcohol, drinking "whatever was around," he says.

When he needed money, he says he would ask the Duvas for it and they would always give it to him. Now, he says they shouldn't have been so forthcoming.

"Not only was I not in control financially, but it really didn't matter to me at the time," he said. "I wanted the best for myself and my loved ones. There was never any resistance in terms of saying, 'Champ, you're out of order with the financial thing.' It is what it is. It is what it is now."

Lockridge says he was "raped financially," but there's no evidence of that. Kathy Duva said Lockridge made money, but not the kind one could expect to live on forever. Even Lockridge admits his biggest payday came from the fight with Chavez, and that was only $200,000, he estimates.

"He had a family, children, divorce, he bought a house," Kathy Duva says. "The money goes away. People who abuse drugs end up in desperate straits frequently. That's a shame, but it's a choice they make."

After 2 1/2 years out of the ring, Lockridge attempted an ill-fated comeback at age 33 under new management based in Washington.

The comeback lasted just two fights -- both losses.

His final record: 44 wins, 36 knockouts, 9 losses and $0 in the bank.

Rocky, Carolyn and their two boys had moved back to Tacoma a year and a half after Lockridge's original retirement, in 1991, but th e family didn't stay together for long.
Rocky and Carolyn split up shortly thereafter -- partially, Lockridge says, due to the stress of being broke and partially because he didn't know what to do without boxing. Drug addiction, Lockridge admits, may have played a part, too. Carolyn Lockridge could not be reached for comment.

In 1993, at age 34, Lockridge moved back to Camden. Alone.

"I could not handle not being involved in the fight game, not being a fighter or even partaking in the fight game as a trainer and/or manager," he says. "My wife, Carolyn, we both were somewhat slapped in the face and she realized Rocky couldn't handle the blow, what is he going to do? I just didn't know how to handle that. Her and I both began to see that we weren't going to be the team that we at one time had been -- inseparable."

Lockridge took a job working for William Jones & Son, Inc. in Camden, a drum and barrel company on Liberty Street, where he cleaned and painted barrels for $8 per hour starting in January 1994.

Shortly thereafter, he was arrested for burglary -- the first time -- but was sentenced to five years probation, according to court records. Three years later, he was arrested for burglary again, this time serving 27 months before being released in July of 1999.

He hasn't worked since.

When he got out of jail, he found he had nowhere to go and ended up on the streets.

"I don't know exactly what happened or how it happened or what happened at that particular time in my life," he says.

One thing he does remember is going back to using drugs.

"I knew a lot of people who I partied with here in Camden after a victory," he says.
Lockridge says that if you're going to be homeless, Camden is the place to be. There are many different places that will give you a free meal, many shelters that will put you up for a night.
Lockridge lives on the $140 a month and food stamps he receives from the government -- as well as pocket change he gets from panhandling. He says the stroke he suffered three years ago makes it difficult to walk, no less hold a job.

He sleeps in shelters occasionally but admits he's had issues committing to a shelter because the curfew is sometimes as early as 7 p.m. Lately, he has slept in a mosquito-infested abandoned row house around the block from his regular corner.

And he continues to have troubles with the law, though his last arrest -- for criminal trespassing in May -- resulted only in community service.

Lockridge's troubles are similar to issues many other former fighters face. In many cases, some feel20it's inevitable.

Former middleweight Alex Ramos, a friend of Lockridge's who founded the Retired Boxers Foundation in 1998, says boxers aren't equipped to handle life out of the ring. They are not trained in financial responsibility and, unlike other sports, there is no union to turn to for help.

"Boxers don't come from the Ivy Leagues and Beverly Hills, they come from ghettos and Third World countries, looking to get themselves out of poverty," he says. "A lot of times it's sad what happens to a lot of fighters when they retire."

Scott Frank, who fought out of Ice World at the same time as Lockridge, says promoters and managers (in Lockridge's case, the Duvas) should be responsible for putting aside money for when their boxers can't fight anymore.

"Lou always said Rocky was like a son to him, so how do you do that to your son?" Frank says. "He made enough money that they should have put some away for him, they should have taken care of him.

"What's $200 a week for life for a guy like Lou? Rocky fought his heart out for him."

Duva says he would be open to offering Lockridge a job training boxers -- but only if he stays clean and sober.
Orlando Pettigrew, a mail carrier and Camden resident, has befriended Lockridge in the last year after hearing that a former world champ was living on the streets. He looks out for Lockridge.

"He's a nice guy, he just needs to find his way again," Pettigrew says. "People call him The Champ, they greet him, hug him. People still look up to him. Any time I see him, that's what I see.

"It has to be hard, going from living in Mount Laurel to living here."

Lockridge doesn't mind losing his house as much as losing his family.

As he sits on his stoop, smoking a cigarette, he talks about why he is finally ready to turn his life around, find a place to live, give up drinking and drugs.

"I'm going to get it back together and say no to drugs," he said. "I've got a family that I want to spend some time with 'til my time is up on Planet Earth. I'm on a mission now, perhaps even greater than my mission before. My kids need me in their lives, experience being the best teacher."

Lockridge says he recently was tracked down by his son, Ricky, now 24, who lives in the Washington, D.C., area near Lamar. The twins were surprised to find out a few months ago that they have a half-brother, Ramond Dixon, 22, born in Camden but who now also lives in the D.C. area. The three have become close -- but they remain distant from their father.

"I remember spending time with him when=2 0I was 3 or 4, but he was never there at a steady pace," Ramond, known as "Ron-Ron," says. "Even though my dad wasn't there for me growing up, I never really had harsh feelings. I never was really upset. As a man now I can see that people make mistakes."

Ricky Lockridge has mixed feelings.

"It's sad. It hurts," he says about his dad's predicament. "But I never lost confidence in my dad, he's a strong person."

Lockridge says reuniting with his boys is his inspiration for cleaning up his life.

"Now I'm ready for this, mentally and physically, to get me back on track," Lockridge says. "I am in dire need of that kind of support and I want it. I've been knocked down. Now I'm finally ready to get back up."

The Retired Boxers Foundation says it will help him -- like his kids and Duva -- but only will do so if he gives up drugs and alcohol and sticks in a shelter.

"Rocky would be eligible for supplemental security income, which would provide a monthly check, housing and Medi-Cal, but one of the requirements is that he is sober," Jacquie Richardson, executive director of the RBF, says. "Boxers don't always want to accept help. Beyond brain injuries, the shame is overwhelming. They have regrets about what they didn't do, the mistakes they made, and it's really hard to forgive themselves. It keeps them hiding out where they are."

Lockridge says the need to see his sons and help them avoid the mistakes he made is the20motivating force to clean up and accept the help of outsiders.

"Edumacation is the best occupation," he jokes. "Knowing how to handle your money, stay educated in all the areas so perhaps what happened to me will never happen to anyone else.

"It hurts. It hurts. In more ways than one, it hurts. How can you be a great man, father and husband ... how can you be a great champion and not be a great father, husband? Dad? It hurts. But I'm still alive. I can't make up for the lost time, but I can just get there, be there, spend the rest of the time with my wife and children and give them the time that I have left."

Absolutely Shocking!! Rocky was a hell of a fighter. He literally fought all the best of his era and ducked no one. This is just too much!

Rocky's record reads like a who's who:
http://www.boxrec.com/list_bouts.php?hu ... &cat=boxer

Terrible about Lockridge.
I vividly recall that right hand he belted Mayweather out with. What a shot. Classic one punch destruction.

Lockridge says if your gonna be homeless, Camdens the place to be.
Im not so sure about that. Camden aint The Hamptons man. That town is tough.

[raylawpc]

World Boxing Hall of Fame

The 2009 WBHOF Inductees are:

Boxer Catagory:

Orlando Canizalez
Brian Mitchell
Rafael Herrera
Lucia Rijker


Expanded Catagory:

Al Bernstein
Dr. James Jen Kin
Amilcar Brusa


Posthumous:

Joe Dixon
Alphonse Halimi
Lily Rodriguez




-Rick Farris
WBHOF Selection Commitee Chairman

I only voted for one of those guys and gals.

Who the heck is Joe Dixon?