Classic American West Coast Boxing

[Rick Farris]

Working with Arnold . . .


I've worked on several Arnold Schwarznegger films over the years, the first being a Ivan Reitman film, "Kindergarten Cop".

The next was a fun one with Danny DeVito, "Twins".
We shot most of Twins here in Los Angeles, and did a few weeks on location in New Mexico.
Kelly Preston, John Travolta's wife was in the movie, and the off-camera exchanges between DeVito and Arnold were classic.

The last film I did with Arnold was Terminator-2, which out spent "Days of Thunder" to become the most expensive film ever made at the time.
T-2 was a seven month production, one I'd leave in it's final month to re-join Michael Landon who was ready to shoot a pilot for a new TV series.
We shot T-2 all over L.A. and up north near San Jose.

While on location up north, we would film two weeks of night scenes.
As the sun would rise, the crew would wrap and return to our hotel. We were all lodged at the Hilton in Fremont.
After working all night, a few of us would go down to the pool in the early morning hours and jump into the hot tub before sleeping all day.
Arnold and his camera double would sometimes join us. The former Mr. Universe would slide into the hot water, light a stogie and relax.
We all liked the future California governor, he had a sick sense of humor like the rest of us, just one of the guys.

If a man has a fondness for the ladies, I assure you he'll find happiness working in the film industry.
A film set is like a magnet for hot women. They just "show up", dressed to kill and ready to play, and of course, we'd make them feel welcome.
Naturally, many seek out the stars, but others don't care, they just want to be a part of the action. And we are quick to help them find it.

T-2's leading lady, Linda Hamilton was in top shape, after enduring months of rigorous workouts preparing for her role.
Hamilton was involved with, and would marry, the film's director, James Cameron.
We'd see her on set, but I rarely saw her when not in front of the camera.
She and the director would spend their time alone when not working.

One morning after wrapping a night's work, a few of us retreated to the hotel jacuzzi.
A couple hotties appear out of nowhere and approach Arnold.
They ask for an auotgraph, and are really pushing close to Schwarznegger. He is interested but must leave for his dialysis treatment.
Many aren't aware that Arnold harmed his liver with steroid use during his body building days. He received treatments in his room.
As he is leaving, his double (wanting to get in on the action) invites the women to visit the set later that evening.

Later that night, I spot the ladies on the set.
After we complete a scene with Arnold he heads for his dressing room (a big motor home) along with the two women.
We know what's going to happen in the motor home, but we had no idea what would become of it.

Shortly after we finished lighting the next scene, we see a limo pull up to the set and out steps Maria Shriver, Arnold's wife.
She is smiling and friendly, everybody likes this special woman. Her visit was sudden and unexpected, we would discover.
When Arnold's assistants realized that Shriver was on the set, it was too late. Somebody had told her Arnold was in his motor home.
Before anybody could sidetrack her, she was at her husband's dressing room. She tapped on the door and then entered, I was told.

I didnt see her enter the motor home, but we all heard her walking out, "You son-of-a-bitch!"
Maria Shriver stepped out of the motor home, marched to the limo and took off. That was one pissed off lady.
Awhile later, Arnold emerged for his next scene, smiling, like nothing happened.

Just another day in the life of "The Terminator".


-Rick Farris

[Rick Farris]

Rick, you have worked on some great movies.
I believe it was Lake Forest that Ordinary People was filmed at.
A friend of mine was briefly an extra in "My Bodyguard".
He was some kind of skateboarder I guess. However his part wound up on the cutting room floor. Happens I guess.
His name is Charlie Overton.
I think he wound up starting a production co. of his own in California later on with some friends and they made a movie that wound up popular in the video stores, kind of a cult classic thing called "Witchboard".

Brian . . . I don't know of Charlie Overton, but his movie "Witchboard" has made a lot of money.
It was a lower budget production that has pulled in millions. He did well, spent little and earned a lot.


-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Californians are still waiting for the now not-so-new Indian Chief



Riding a motorcycle through 114-degree heat isn’t my idea of a good time, but I was tired of waiting for the new Indian Chief, and Dante’s Inferno was the closest location I could find. The not-so-new debut from the latest incarnation of Indian Motorcycle, the Chief has been on the market since January. It just hasn’t cleared the emissions hurdles to be available for sale in California, which is why I traveled to Mesa, Ariz., this week to ride one.

Welts and heat blisters be damned. The 2009 Chief was worth it.

To be honest, I didn’t really know what to expect from the bike before I got there. Despite its 108-year legacy, the Indian brand, and the bikes that have been built in its name, have been fumbled more times than a football by a second-string running back. Sure, the pictures I’d seen looked great, but so do a lot of fashion models until you see them in person without the benefit of an airbrush. I needed to see and experience the bike up close, which I got to do at a place called Chester’s – a Harley-Davidson dealer that has separated Tonto from its American sidekick with a stand-alone building devoted entirely to Indian merch and motorcycles.

From the looks of this spacious, well-heeled shop, it’s clear Indian Motorcycle is taking the idea of a boutique brand and interpreting it literally. For every bike, there were about 20 T-shirts emblazoned with the classic script logo. For every shirt, there was a distressed leather jacket or boardtrack-style sweater in muted red, cream or blue – a subtle conveyance of the history that is also the company’s tag line: America’s First Motorcycle. If it weren’t for the grandeur of the bikes, Indian’s emphasis on clothing might seem silly, but the new Chief is so finely trimmed it seems to demand that riders dress for the occasion.

Up close, the latest iteration of the bike that first debuted in 1922 is stunning. It looks as expensive as it is, which should please the diminishing few who can afford such a bike these days. Not only has the Indian preserved the Chief’s classic design elements, such as the valanced fenders and lamp ornament, it’s distilled them into four increasingly fancy incarnations that delve deep into the chromed and studded history of motorcycling – the streamlined $31,000 Standard, the two-up $32,000 Deluxe, the tour-oriented $34,000 Roadmaster and the bike I was testing – the top-of-the-line $35,500 Vintage, with its two-tone Indian red paint job, chromed highway bars, fringed bags and – lest anyone confuse this bike with its sole, heritage-brand competitor – 14 little Indians dotting the body and leatherwork.

All of the bikes are built around the same long and low steel frame, which rolls on 16-inch laced wheels powered with a re-engineered version of the PowerPlus motor pioneered for the ill-fated, malfunctioning and short-lived Chief from Indian’s last owner, which went bankrupt in 2003. Aesthetically, the motor looks almost identical, with its gorgeously rounded and chromed heads. But millions of dollars have since been pumped into its cylinders, not only to make it 5 cubic inches bigger but to ensure it actually works.

Hi-yo, Silver. Does it ever. The Indian Chief was torquey without being abusive, smooth but with an edge. If it weren’t for the mirage-inducing heat, I’d have been tempted to skip town on this bike because this is exactly the kind of power I like, but meat was grilling – and it was my thighs. They were sizzling. Whether the heat was emanating from the engine or merely Mother Nature, I have no idea. Most likely it was a combination. All I know is that it’s been two days since I rode the Chief, and my hamstrings are still mottled. At least it was a good test for this air-cooled V-twin, which didn’t pass out from the high temperatures.

That was just me, who, as compromised as I felt by the weather, still thoroughly enjoyed my experience on this machine. For a show pony of a bike, the Chief’s latest designers haven’t sacrificed rideability. While the bike is big and burly, its angles aren’t at all extreme, which made the Chief easy to steer and control, even at low speeds.

The issues I had with this bike were, by all counts, minor. The kickstand was difficult to kick. There wasn’t any gas gauge. And occasionally, depending on the position of the bike, the flat top of the teardrop head lamp caught the sun and bounced it into my eyeballs, which were already on the verge of evaporating. But on the whole, this bike looked fantastic and worked just as well.

Californians who’ve been saving their money to buy a new Indian should console themselves with the thought that this bike is worth the wait. According to Indian Motorcycle, the four current versions of the Chief – along with the two new 2010 models, the Bomber and Dark Horse – will be available in California in September.

2009 Indian Motorcycle Chief Vintage
Price as tested: $36,000
Powertrain: Air-cooled, fuel-injected, 45-degree V-twin, 6 speed
Displacement: 105 cubic inches, or 1720 cc
Seat height: 27.89 inches
Running order weight: 773 pounds
Road test MPG: 33 (based on 120 miles traveled)

-- Susan Carpenter

[Rick Farris]

Californians are still waiting for the now not-so-new Indian Chief



Riding a motorcycle through 114-degree heat isn’t my idea of a good time, but I was tired of waiting for the new Indian Chief, and Dante’s Inferno was the closest location I could find. The not-so-new debut from the latest incarnation of Indian Motorcycle, the Chief has been on the market since January. It just hasn’t cleared the emissions hurdles to be available for sale in California, which is why I traveled to Mesa, Ariz., this week to ride one.

Welts and heat blisters be damned. The 2009 Chief was worth it.

To be honest, I didn’t really know what to expect from the bike before I got there. Despite its 108-year legacy, the Indian brand, and the bikes that have been built in its name, have been fumbled more times than a football by a second-string running back. Sure, the pictures I’d seen looked great, but so do a lot of fashion models until you see them in person without the benefit of an airbrush. I needed to see and experience the bike up close, which I got to do at a place called Chester’s – a Harley-Davidson dealer that has separated Tonto from its American sidekick with a stand-alone building devoted entirely to Indian merch and motorcycles.

From the looks of this spacious, well-heeled shop, it’s clear Indian Motorcycle is taking the idea of a boutique brand and interpreting it literally. For every bike, there were about 20 T-shirts emblazoned with the classic script logo. For every shirt, there was a distressed leather jacket or boardtrack-style sweater in muted red, cream or blue – a subtle conveyance of the history that is also the company’s tag line: America’s First Motorcycle. If it weren’t for the grandeur of the bikes, Indian’s emphasis on clothing might seem silly, but the new Chief is so finely trimmed it seems to demand that riders dress for the occasion.

Up close, the latest iteration of the bike that first debuted in 1922 is stunning. It looks as expensive as it is, which should please the diminishing few who can afford such a bike these days. Not only has the Indian preserved the Chief’s classic design elements, such as the valanced fenders and lamp ornament, it’s distilled them into four increasingly fancy incarnations that delve deep into the chromed and studded history of motorcycling – the streamlined $31,000 Standard, the two-up $32,000 Deluxe, the tour-oriented $34,000 Roadmaster and the bike I was testing – the top-of-the-line $35,500 Vintage, with its two-tone Indian red paint job, chromed highway bars, fringed bags and – lest anyone confuse this bike with its sole, heritage-brand competitor – 14 little Indians dotting the body and leatherwork.

All of the bikes are built around the same long and low steel frame, which rolls on 16-inch laced wheels powered with a re-engineered version of the PowerPlus motor pioneered for the ill-fated, malfunctioning and short-lived Chief from Indian’s last owner, which went bankrupt in 2003. Aesthetically, the motor looks almost identical, with its gorgeously rounded and chromed heads. But millions of dollars have since been pumped into its cylinders, not only to make it 5 cubic inches bigger but to ensure it actually works.

Hi-yo, Silver. Does it ever. The Indian Chief was torquey without being abusive, smooth but with an edge. If it weren’t for the mirage-inducing heat, I’d have been tempted to skip town on this bike because this is exactly the kind of power I like, but meat was grilling – and it was my thighs. They were sizzling. Whether the heat was emanating from the engine or merely Mother Nature, I have no idea. Most likely it was a combination. All I know is that it’s been two days since I rode the Chief, and my hamstrings are still mottled. At least it was a good test for this air-cooled V-twin, which didn’t pass out from the high temperatures.

That was just me, who, as compromised as I felt by the weather, still thoroughly enjoyed my experience on this machine. For a show pony of a bike, the Chief’s latest designers haven’t sacrificed rideability. While the bike is big and burly, its angles aren’t at all extreme, which made the Chief easy to steer and control, even at low speeds.

The issues I had with this bike were, by all counts, minor. The kickstand was difficult to kick. There wasn’t any gas gauge. And occasionally, depending on the position of the bike, the flat top of the teardrop head lamp caught the sun and bounced it into my eyeballs, which were already on the verge of evaporating. But on the whole, this bike looked fantastic and worked just as well.

Californians who’ve been saving their money to buy a new Indian should console themselves with the thought that this bike is worth the wait. According to Indian Motorcycle, the four current versions of the Chief – along with the two new 2010 models, the Bomber and Dark Horse – will be available in California in September.

2009 Indian Motorcycle Chief Vintage
Price as tested: $36,000
Powertrain: Air-cooled, fuel-injected, 45-degree V-twin, 6 speed
Displacement: 105 cubic inches, or 1720 cc
Seat height: 27.89 inches
Running order weight: 773 pounds
Road test MPG: 33 (based on 120 miles traveled)

-- Susan Carpenter

Frank . . . That's pretty cool. Before I was born, my grandfather owned an Indian motorcycle. I only saw pictures of it.
My grandad was half-Cherokee. So I guess he was partial to Indians.


-Rick

[kikibalt]

Yeah, Rick the old Indian bikes were great bikes, though I never own one I have ridden them, pretty much like a Harley.

[kikibalt]

Report: Boxing champ may have committed suicide
(AP)

SAO PAULO — A Brazilian newspaper says that an autopsy performed on former boxing champ Arturo Gatti indicates he may have committed suicide.

Gatti was found dead in the apartment he was renting with wife Amanda Rodrigues in the Brazilian seaside resort of Porto de Galinhas last Saturday. A bloody purse strap was found near his body and police have arrested Rodrigues on suspicion of strangling him.

Rodrigues, who is being held in a jail in the northeastern Brazil city of Recife, proclaimed her innocence and love for her husband in a letter given to The Associated Press on Wednesday.

The Jornal do Comercio newspaper reported in its Saturday edition that the autopsy performed on the former two-division champ shows that Gatti's body was "suspended and hanged, indicating he may have committed suicide."

Paula Cysneiros, a spokeswoman for the medical examiners' office, would not confirm the newspaper's report.

A visitation for Gatti is scheduled for Sunday at Maison Funeraire Magnus Poirier in his adopted hometown of Montreal, with a funeral on Monday at Notre Dame De La Defense.

Investigators have said Rodrigues was the only suspect and they were certain she killed Gatti in the apartment where they and their 10-month-old son arrived for a second honeymoon last week. The boy was unhurt and was in the care of Rodrigues' family.

"This is a pain that has become inexplicable and intolerable, this loss and this malicious accusation," Rodrigues wrote in the letter to the AP. "I'm innocent and I know that this will be proven in a few days."

[Randyman]

BIG JOHN

I came back from Munich like a kid in a candy store,or should I say a hops drinker in a German beer garden. My son in law drives a bread truck and had told me about an old German fellow who owns a German deli combo restaurant in Carlsbad,a burg north of San Diego. The name of his place is called Tip Top Meats.

Well after acquiring a speedy taste for German beer,I offered to pay for a hearty breakfast and look for that lager that I fell in love with,Augustina Helles.My son in law didn't bat an eyelash.
"If anyone has it,it would be Big John,"said my son in law.

As we drove up the coast my son in law told me that Big John used to be a fighter in Germany. This piqued my interest along with the thoughts of rediscovering Augustina Helles.

When we arrived,right away I thought of Germany. In fact if I didn't know better,I thought I was back in Duetschland. The meat case was crammed with sausages and slabs of pork and beef. A pastry array of cakes and struedels. I wouldn't have known where to start, only knowing if I'd had free reign ,I would have gained ten pounds and raised my blood pressure 20 points after trying to digest everything I put in my stomach.

After polishing off a breakfast of 4 egss ,brautwursts,bacon,potatos,and toast ,my son in law introduced me to Big John Haedrich. Big John may have gotten that nickname from the size of his hands. They were like the ham hocks hanging behind the meat counter.
"Nice to meet you,John,"I said as my hand disappeared inside the old man's grip.

I told him that I just came back from Germany.He began speaking German,but told him that I didn't "comprende" German. He laughed real big. His smile was as warm as the fresh bread that had just come out from the ovens in the back.
"John,I heard you used to be a fighter."
"Oh yes. That was many years ago. I don't talk too much about it any more."
I perused the big man's face. Yeah,he had been in the ring. A broken nose,scar tissue around an eye,a gnarled fist. The proof was there.
"I fought amateur in the Olympics in 1952."
"Helsinki. Then you knew Ed Sanders."
"Oh yes. A very nice man. Johanssen didn't want to fight him. Lost on a disqualification."
"Sanders later died,"I said as if I didn't think Big John knew that.
"Yes an aneurism. Very sad . A nice fellow."
"Did you fight pro?"
"No,I had 25 amateur fights. I lost one time. My last fight. Then I gave it up. I was a butcher. I had a profession."

The old guy had the friendliest face. He never gave an indication that he wanted to break off the conversation.
"I'm with the World Boxing Hall of Fame,"I said." Would you be interested in coming to our banquet in October?"
"Oh no. I don't talk about it much anymore. My interests are with my business and my family. Here is my grand daughter Amanda."
A pretty teenage girl walked by us.
"Amanda helps me out in the store."
I told him I had a grand daughter named Amanda also. Big John laughed and said that we were both blessed.
"I trained Ingemar Johanssen for a while ,"he said.
"He had a good looking wife."
"Yes,Birgit. I know the whole story. At one time Johanssen was going to relocate to San Diego. Almost had him talked into it."

We talked some more about the restaurant and how I was going to be a frequent customer.
"Fighting was good discipline for me. I was proud of that. But I have my health and my family.
He stopped to take a breath.
"Roger,you are a good man. I like talking to you. Please came in again and I'll tell you more about what fighting was like back in my day."
"Of course.By the way ,have you ever heard of a German beer called Augustina Helles?"
"Oh yes,"said the old fighter."We carry a lot of it. Do you prefer the light or the dark?"

Tip Top Meats sounds like my kind of place Rog. I'm going to have to pay a visit. Big John sounds like a humble man. I know what you mean about those big hands. I knew someone just like that. Sounds like Big John made a good choice. Boxing at any level instills a level of discipline that stays with you the rest of your life.

Randy

[Randyman]

Rog,thats one of the greatest things about boxing. Its got an old school vibe to it.
You can walk into a tavern or butcher shop or restaraunt and find yourself meeting an ex fighter.
Usally an elderly guy with great stories to tell. You can make a friend . Talk boxing, the fight game from years past. Its a connection.
However, I fear that in the future it wont be like that. There wont be too many old pugs with great stories to tell.
Everything is changing. Its a cultural thing.
With the sissifacation of our culture along with the gentrification of everything in sight, the hardscrabble element is going the way of the dodo bird.
Thirty years from now, a guy isnt gonna be able to walk into a fu..in Starbucks and meet an ex middleweight making his grande cafe late skim mocha fat free carmel fropacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee.
It will be some guy with purple hair and a safety pin through his nose.

We won't let it happen Brian, or at the very least, we'll do our share to prevent it. Boxing is old school and those that love it are protective of it. They can take that cafe latte skim milk mocha fat free frapacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee and shove it up their....

Randy

[Rick Farris]

Rog,thats one of the greatest things about boxing. Its got an old school vibe to it.
You can walk into a tavern or butcher shop or restaraunt and find yourself meeting an ex fighter.
Usally an elderly guy with great stories to tell. You can make a friend . Talk boxing, the fight game from years past. Its a connection.
However, I fear that in the future it wont be like that. There wont be too many old pugs with great stories to tell.
Everything is changing. Its a cultural thing.
With the sissifacation of our culture along with the gentrification of everything in sight, the hardscrabble element is going the way of the dodo bird.
Thirty years from now, a guy isnt gonna be able to walk into a fu..in Starbucks and meet an ex middleweight making his grande cafe late skim mocha fat free carmel fropacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee.
It will be some guy with purple hair and a safety pin through his nose.

We won't let it happen Brian, or at the very least, we'll do our share to prevent it. Boxing is old school and those that love it are protective of it. They can take that cafe latte skim milk mocha fat free frapacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee and shove it up their....

Randy

Cafe?

Randy, you and I and Freddie Roach have something in common. We're not Starbucks customers (my wife is).
I was talking to Freddie one day a couple years ago and we were discussing coffee shops.
You know, the simple old places where you can sit in a booth or at the counter. Freddie and I are counter guys.

I had a couple favorite spots I went for good coffee and breakfast. I love to start my day in those places when I can.
I read a newspaper, eat, and then go about the day.
I don't want a lot of choices when it comes to coffee, except for cream & sugar.
I just want a decent cup of coffee, and I don't need carmel or crap to disguise it as a milk shake.
If I want a malt, I'll go to Tastee Freeze or Stone Cold.


-Rick Farris

[Expug]

As far as coffee goes , Folgers is cool with me.
Mountain grown. Missus Olsen baby.
Or, if Im out, Dunkin Doughnuts is good.
The problem is, when your waitng for them to get you the coffee, your standing there staring at the rack of
Doughnuts. I feel coerced.

[kikibalt]

[Randyman]

Rog,thats one of the greatest things about boxing. Its got an old school vibe to it.
You can walk into a tavern or butcher shop or restaraunt and find yourself meeting an ex fighter.
Usally an elderly guy with great stories to tell. You can make a friend . Talk boxing, the fight game from years past. Its a connection.
However, I fear that in the future it wont be like that. There wont be too many old pugs with great stories to tell.
Everything is changing. Its a cultural thing.
With the sissifacation of our culture along with the gentrification of everything in sight, the hardscrabble element is going the way of the dodo bird.
Thirty years from now, a guy isnt gonna be able to walk into a fu..in Starbucks and meet an ex middleweight making his grande cafe late skim mocha fat free carmel fropacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee.
It will be some guy with purple hair and a safety pin through his nose.

We won't let it happen Brian, or at the very least, we'll do our share to prevent it. Boxing is old school and those that love it are protective of it. They can take that cafe latte skim milk mocha fat free frapacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee and shove it up their....

Randy

Cafe?

Randy, you and I and Freddie Roach have something in common. We're not Starbucks customers (my wife is).
I was talking to Freddie one day a couple years ago and we were discussing coffee shops.
You know, the simple old places where you can sit in a booth or at the counter. Freddie and I are counter guys.

I had a couple favorite spots I went for good coffee and breakfast. I love to start my day in those places when I can.
I read a newspaper, eat, and then go about the day.
I don't want a lot of choices when it comes to coffee, except for cream & sugar.
I just want a decent cup of coffee, and I don't need carmel or crap to disguise it as a milk shake.
If I want a malt, I'll go to Tastee Freeze or Stone Cold.


-Rick Farris

Rick, I hate Starbucks coffee with a passion. First because they really do make a lousy cup of coffee. It stinks. Secondly because Starbucks smacks of elitism and I hate that.

Like Brian, I drink Folgers. It's what Jeri and I have drank since the 70's. I just want a cup of Joe. No more no less! When it comes to eating at a restaurant or cafe I'm the same way. I want coffee.

Those Bastids. What's this world coming to? It's going to hell in a hand basket! Cafe Latte?

Randy

[Randyman]

Report: Boxing champ may have committed suicide
(AP)

SAO PAULO — A Brazilian newspaper says that an autopsy performed on former boxing champ Arturo Gatti indicates he may have committed suicide.

Gatti was found dead in the apartment he was renting with wife Amanda Rodrigues in the Brazilian seaside resort of Porto de Galinhas last Saturday. A bloody purse strap was found near his body and police have arrested Rodrigues on suspicion of strangling him.

Rodrigues, who is being held in a jail in the northeastern Brazil city of Recife, proclaimed her innocence and love for her husband in a letter given to The Associated Press on Wednesday.

The Jornal do Comercio newspaper reported in its Saturday edition that the autopsy performed on the former two-division champ shows that Gatti's body was "suspended and hanged, indicating he may have committed suicide."

Paula Cysneiros, a spokeswoman for the medical examiners' office, would not confirm the newspaper's report.

A visitation for Gatti is scheduled for Sunday at Maison Funeraire Magnus Poirier in his adopted hometown of Montreal, with a funeral on Monday at Notre Dame De La Defense.

Investigators have said Rodrigues was the only suspect and they were certain she killed Gatti in the apartment where they and their 10-month-old son arrived for a second honeymoon last week. The boy was unhurt and was in the care of Rodrigues' family.

"This is a pain that has become inexplicable and intolerable, this loss and this malicious accusation," Rodrigues wrote in the letter to the AP. "I'm innocent and I know that this will be proven in a few days."

I hope for her sake she is innocent. But another suicide? Geez.

Randy

[Expug]

Randy,your right about that elitism.
And, dont those guys behind the counter at Starbucks who pour the cofee into the cup have some kind of special name? some title?
I think they are called Baristas or Batistas or some damn thing.

[Expug]

Report: Boxing champ may have committed suicide
(AP)

SAO PAULO — A Brazilian newspaper says that an autopsy performed on former boxing champ Arturo Gatti indicates he may have committed suicide.

Gatti was found dead in the apartment he was renting with wife Amanda Rodrigues in the Brazilian seaside resort of Porto de Galinhas last Saturday. A bloody purse strap was found near his body and police have arrested Rodrigues on suspicion of strangling him.

Rodrigues, who is being held in a jail in the northeastern Brazil city of Recife, proclaimed her innocence and love for her husband in a letter given to The Associated Press on Wednesday.

The Jornal do Comercio newspaper reported in its Saturday edition that the autopsy performed on the former two-division champ shows that Gatti's body was "suspended and hanged, indicating he may have committed suicide."

Paula Cysneiros, a spokeswoman for the medical examiners' office, would not confirm the newspaper's report.

A visitation for Gatti is scheduled for Sunday at Maison Funeraire Magnus Poirier in his adopted hometown of Montreal, with a funeral on Monday at Notre Dame De La Defense.

Investigators have said Rodrigues was the only suspect and they were certain she killed Gatti in the apartment where they and their 10-month-old son arrived for a second honeymoon last week. The boy was unhurt and was in the care of Rodrigues' family.

"This is a pain that has become inexplicable and intolerable, this loss and this malicious accusation," Rodrigues wrote in the letter to the AP. "I'm innocent and I know that this will be proven in a few days."

I hope for her sake she is innocent. But another suicide? Geez.

Randy

Ive been reading up on this situation with Gatti.
Its damn infuriating it really is.
I dont know what the whole story is here and who knows if it will get straightened out.
By all accounts Ive read however, these two fought...constantly. It looks like Arturo picked the wrong flower.

[kikibalt]

Rog,thats one of the greatest things about boxing. Its got an old school vibe to it.
You can walk into a tavern or butcher shop or restaraunt and find yourself meeting an ex fighter.
Usally an elderly guy with great stories to tell. You can make a friend . Talk boxing, the fight game from years past. Its a connection.
However, I fear that in the future it wont be like that. There wont be too many old pugs with great stories to tell.
Everything is changing. Its a cultural thing.
With the sissifacation of our culture along with the gentrification of everything in sight, the hardscrabble element is going the way of the dodo bird.
Thirty years from now, a guy isnt gonna be able to walk into a fu..in Starbucks and meet an ex middleweight making his grande cafe late skim mocha fat free carmel fropacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee.
It will be some guy with purple hair and a safety pin through his nose.

We won't let it happen Brian, or at the very least, we'll do our share to prevent it. Boxing is old school and those that love it are protective of it. They can take that cafe latte skim milk mocha fat free frapacino diet 2 percent carmel flavored iced coffee and shove it up their....

Randy

Cafe?

Randy, you and I and Freddie Roach have something in common. We're not Starbucks customers (my wife is).
I was talking to Freddie one day a couple years ago and we were discussing coffee shops.
You know, the simple old places where you can sit in a booth or at the counter. Freddie and I are counter guys.

I had a couple favorite spots I went for good coffee and breakfast. I love to start my day in those places when I can.
I read a newspaper, eat, and then go about the day.
I don't want a lot of choices when it comes to coffee, except for cream & sugar.
I just want a decent cup of coffee, and I don't need carmel or crap to disguise it as a milk shake.
If I want a malt, I'll go to Tastee Freeze or Stone Cold.




Rick, I hate Starbucks coffee with a passion. First because they really do make a lousy cup of coffee. It stinks. Secondly because Starbucks smacks of elitism and I hate that.

Like Brian, I drink Folgers. It's what Jeri and I have drank since the 70's. I just want a cup of Joe. No more no less! When it comes to eating at a restaurant or cafe I'm the same way. I want coffee.

Those Bastids. What's this world coming to? It's going to hell in a hand basket! Cafe Latte?

Randy

We buy either Folgers or Maxwell, Connie & I drink our's black with a bit of sugar. We have never been to Starbucks and never will..... on Starbucks

[Randyman]

Report: Boxing champ may have committed suicide
(AP)

SAO PAULO — A Brazilian newspaper says that an autopsy performed on former boxing champ Arturo Gatti indicates he may have committed suicide.

Gatti was found dead in the apartment he was renting with wife Amanda Rodrigues in the Brazilian seaside resort of Porto de Galinhas last Saturday. A bloody purse strap was found near his body and police have arrested Rodrigues on suspicion of strangling him.

Rodrigues, who is being held in a jail in the northeastern Brazil city of Recife, proclaimed her innocence and love for her husband in a letter given to The Associated Press on Wednesday.

The Jornal do Comercio newspaper reported in its Saturday edition that the autopsy performed on the former two-division champ shows that Gatti's body was "suspended and hanged, indicating he may have committed suicide."

Paula Cysneiros, a spokeswoman for the medical examiners' office, would not confirm the newspaper's report.

A visitation for Gatti is scheduled for Sunday at Maison Funeraire Magnus Poirier in his adopted hometown of Montreal, with a funeral on Monday at Notre Dame De La Defense.

Investigators have said Rodrigues was the only suspect and they were certain she killed Gatti in the apartment where they and their 10-month-old son arrived for a second honeymoon last week. The boy was unhurt and was in the care of Rodrigues' family.

"This is a pain that has become inexplicable and intolerable, this loss and this malicious accusation," Rodrigues wrote in the letter to the AP. "I'm innocent and I know that this will be proven in a few days."

I hope for her sake she is innocent. But another suicide? Geez.

Randy

Ive been reading up on this situation with Gatti.
Its damn infuriating it really is.
I dont know what the whole story is here and who knows if it will get straightened out.
By all accounts Ive read however, these two fought...constantly. It looks like Arturo picked the wrong flower.

Sometimes a beautiful rose can have just too many thorns.

Randy

[Rick Farris]

Frank . . . I've seen this old stage which now sits on the Paramount lot and as mentioned in the story, has been a gym for years.
When I first worked at Paramount in 1978, that old stage was the coolest old boxing gym I'd ever seen. A ring, bags, personal trainer for the studio execs. I was there last year when we used the back lot for a TV production I was doing. At lunch, I sought out the old gym (stage) to see if they's maintained the boxing equipment. I walked to where it once was but it had been moved, or I was in the wrong spot. I didn't bother to ask because I had to get back to my set. Thanks for the history!

-Rick

[Randyman]

Randy,your right about that elitism.
And, dont those guys behind the counter at Starbucks who pour the cofee into the cup have some kind of special name? some title?
I think they are called Baristas or Batistas or some damn thing.

As long as it's not Barrera. At the Boeing cafeteria in Long beach where I work (Boeing, not the cafeteria) they serve two coffees. one urn is for coffee the other is for the overpriced dishwater they call Starbucks. On those days when the coffee runs out early they drop the price of the Starbucks so that everyone can enjoy a cup. Most of the guys I work with would rather have a cup of acetone than a cheap cup of Starbucks. I don't get the attraction.

By the way, the Boeing cafeteria serves the best buttermilk pancakes anywhere. I'm not kidding. I'll order two pancakes, two eggs and two slices of bacon and wash it all down with a steaming hot cup of Joe. It's how I keep my figure.

Randy

[Randyman]

Frank . . . I've seen this old stage which now sits on the Paramount lot and as mentioned in the story, has been a gym for years.
When I first worked at Paramount in 1978, that old stage was the coolest old boxing gym I'd ever seen. A ring, bags, personal trainer for the studio execs. I was there last year when we used the back lot for a TV production I was doing. At lunch, I sought out the old gym (stage) to see if they's maintained the boxing equipment. I walked to where it once was but it had been moved, or I was in the wrong spot. I didn't bother to ask because I had to get back to my set. Thanks for the history!

-Rick

Rick, I can't wait to read your book on Los Angeles, Hollywood and Boxing (L.A. Style).

Randy

[Rick Farris]

As far as coffee goes , Folgers is cool with me.
Mountain grown. Missus Olsen baby.
Or, if Im out, Dunkin Doughnuts is good.
The problem is, when your waitng for them to get you the coffee, your standing there staring at the rack of
Doughnuts. I feel coerced.

Folgers is perfect, I think that's what we she buys (?), shows how much time I spend in the Kitchen. ;;-)

[raylawpc]

Starbucks: crappy coffee ; great pastries. We have several Starbucks at the St. Louis airport. I always buy a couple of croussants to snack on the plane. I drink the airline's coffee (leaded and black). TWA had great coffee. I miss TWA - St. Louis was a TWA hub, so I never had connecting flights back in the days when I flew weekly. TWA also had great in-flight breakfasts. I tried to schedule my flights in the morning so I could eat the breakfast. The rest of the meals? Well, not as good as the coffee or breakfasts.

[dagosd2000]

VERO

"Espero por mi esposa,senora,"I said to the proprietor of the little beauty salon in Canon Jhonson.

Canon Jhonson was the first place I lived after marrying my wife. I wasn't making much money then and that barrio was all I could afford.

My wife told me to wait for her in front of the beauty salon where she always got her hair done. She was going to tint the gray roots so that when she down with the grand kids ,my daughters ,and her brother no one would notice(at least in my wife's mind) the evidence of an aging woman.

I sat in of those plastic chairs in front of the place and waited. My wife said she'd arrive in a taxi.Noon was the proposed arrival time and when the minute hand dipped below the 3,I started to get upset. I walked back inside the salon and asked if one of the girls was working at another salon in the neighborhood. The owner said that one of the girls(the one who worked on my wife's hair)had opened her own salon up the street.

It was hotter than hell and just as muggy as I struggled up the street.I figured that maybe my wife had wound up in the other salon. Sure enough I saw her sitting in one of the chairs.

I chewed her ass out for not letting me know about the switch,and adhereing to her culture,she put the blame on me for not noticing that the regular girl who worked on her hair was not in the other salon.

Well I sat there watching the girl daub tint in my wife's hair. The girl was a cute little thing. The spitting image of my grand daughter Mariana who's made me a great grandfather three times. I said to my wife that she resembled Mariana. The girl,whose name was Vero,wore braces on her teeth which made her look even more appealing. Sort of an innocent touch to someone who looked quiet,shy,and very pretty.

Vero knew my grand daughter Mariana. Vero probably grew up in Canon Jhonson,married a boy from Canon Jhonson,and now was going to raise a family there. Just like Mariana was doing.

While my wife's hair was setting ,Vero asked me if she could cut my hair. I never was into female barbers,but recently,especially in Mexico,I prefer female barbers. They not only give you a nice haircut,but put you at ease. Soothe you. It's somewhat caressing.

I told Vero that she'd be my permament barber from now on. All the time my wife was looking at me with that cat that swallowed the canary look. Vero was smiling. I was happy. Canon Jhonson felt like home again.

[dagosd2000]

Starbucks: crappy coffee ; great pastries. We have several Starbucks at the St. Louis airport. I always buy a couple of croussants to snack on the plane. I drink the airline's coffee (leaded and black). TWA had great coffee. I miss TWA - St. Louis was a TWA hub, so I never had connecting flights back in the days when I flew weekly. TWA also had great in-flight breakfasts. I tried to schedule my flights in the morning so I could eat the breakfast. The rest of the meals? Well, not as good as the coffee or breakfasts.

Tom
I usually don't argue with you. Let you have the last word.But Starbucks has crappy coffee AND crappy pastries. Come on dude,you've been to Europe enough to know that. Who'd buy pastries at a Starbucks in Munich,but a tourist?

[Randyman]

Special From Jon Bardelli

Why, Arturo?

Life is not as it always seems and rarely is it rewarding. As Ye Sow, So Shall Ye Reap.

Stated another way, the transforming laws of physics, as described by Newton, apply to the unfolding of human drama be it good, bad, or indifferent, in the same manner that those laws govern all motion in the Universe.

In the same respect that the immutable laws of physics apply across the board, equally, in non-discriminatory fashion, within and upon the life of every man, woman and child, those same laws of physics play themselves out in a morality play converting Newtonian laws of motion into human masks of sorrow, jealously, self pity, regret, guilt, remorse, as life weaves itself day in, day out, into a coat of varying colors and shades of meaning.

If one drinks to excess, the intangible messing with the human physiology, eventually takes its tolls in ways not known but in a predictable and steady fashion, as an ocean tide.

If one is unfaithful in a relationship, a ticking time bomb will explode…it’s only a matter of time.

If one is abusive of a loved one and oblivious to the needs of a family… the human emotion of guilt will raise its head and provide a response that the vast majority will never see evolving for they do not want to be exposed to an unfolding of the future of their own destiny. It is easier to enable and to put one’s head in the sand.

Add to the equation, the physiological damage to one’s brain from having entered that squared circle, where only Angels should dare to tread, and combine that act with the inevitable sheering of neurons taking place, therein, coupled with the sucking up of the compelling adulation, the bravado, and the cheering of the mob… all the while the forces of self-denial setting in which thereby induce the recipient to erroneously conclude that those punches are incapable of taking their toll---denial to the point of no return… and you have on your hands the making of a Shakespearean tragedy engulfing and consuming all who come within the circle of enabling denial.

History provides its answers in a manner we don’t like to reflect upon and, indeed, shun in examining in detail the closing chapters which are there for examination and reading. It is so transparent--- and so readily available for all to witness were we to look at only a few of the once glimmering and now imploded stars of the Universe:

Grim, Nelson, McCoy, Papke, Fontaine, LaMotta, Arguello, Robinson, Charles, Louis, Pep, Machen, Foley, Turpin, Mills, Chacon, Lopez, Quarry, Norton, Ali, thousands more and, … dare we say, … Gatti.

Ah Gatti… one can only wonder what demons grabbed you in your moment of extreme remorse--- a remorse for conduct transformed into guilt and shame… and a crying out for help… setting into motion conditions which took you down the road to an oblivion… where it was not bad enough to have not only assaulted the one you professed an undying love for on the night that you were about to forsake the world--- much in the same fashion Judas did when the enormity of his own transgressions sunk in and transformed Iscariot, a disciple no less, over the enormity of his own guilt and lead him to his own self inflicted strangulation,… but, indeed a state of mind which would allow you to engage in a contemptible act without foresight that your own death, taken by your own hand, would bring even more contempt and ridicule upon the same Amanda Rodrigues you professed to love and, thereafter, forever render her an obstacle of scorn and hatred by those whose lives mimic your own---wasting their allotted hours in debauchery until their souls can take no more, rendering as yourself, a plaintiff cry---”Enough” And the die is cast---the end is here-- and oh, what a tangled web we weave.