Classic American West Coast Boxing

[Randyman]

"The Rivileers"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlpkCyAck0Q
"For Sentimental Reasons"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aeqRWMjLKQ
"A Thousand Stars"

A SIMPLER TIME

His name was Steve Bradaric. He played next to me on the line in football. He was a year younger than me and had to step in when our first string center went down with a knee injury.

Steve's old man tended bar at the Arizona in Ocean Beach. Yeah,he was around in the days when the old LA. Rams would come down to Radovich's place to drink it up . Crazy Legs,Waterfield,Van Brocklin, Skeets...the usual gang of suspects. Oh,there was another one of the "glub glub" boys. A fella,a fighter named Murphy, who wasn't shy to let off a little steam. They'd all go sport fishing and whoring around down in TJ all the time making sure they were plenty fortified with anything that had alcohol in it.


Don't get me wrong me and Steve Bradaric weren't in on those shenanigans.We were only little boys back then. But we heard the stories. It was no secret. I don't think those guys wanted it to be a secret.

Well all those boys are scattered to the wind now. I remember me and Steve, when turning the legal age, walking into the Arizona for a drink. Steve's old man was still behind the bar. Radovich was still the owner . Of course me and Steve had to sit by the front door. The stools by the back door were for the exclusive members of old gang's drinking fraternity that still had functioning livers. Me and Steve were too young to belong.They didn't say much to us except to make a joke at our expense.

When the mid 60's hit with the counter revolution, Ocean Beach got swallowed up in it. It was Haight Ashbury south. Peace,love dove. And plenty of drugs.

Steve Bradaric turned out to be a hell of a football player his senior year in high school. Was getting offers from all over. I hadn't seen him in a while when I saw him walking down the street in OB. He was huge. Not in a buff way,but looked like a baloon full of water. I asked him if he was OK and he said everything was on the level. But Steve never played anymore football. Didn't take up any of the scholarships. Instead Steve became a full blown hype.

Steve eventually lost his job at the defense plant. Was hanging around junkies. Was in and out of jail. Finally in the early 80's I get a call from him. I had lost touch with Steve . He told me he was in a county hospital in Burbank,California. Me and Maria drove up to see him.

The hospital was no state of the art institution. We found Steve in one of the rooms prone in a bed. He looked like a skeleton. Steve always had a big voice and when he saw me he let out a shout that could be heard at Dodger Stadium. Steve may have been weak,but he still had his pipes.

Steve was watching the old Gene Autry TV program. It was a Saturday morning. I remember hearing Autry's theme song,"Back In The Saddle Again."

My old buddy started to fill me in on his life. Turned out that Steve was playing football with a bum valve in his heart. The docs told the old man he shouldn't play,but the bartender told th MD's to look the other way. He'd get Steve into the operating room for a new valve after hifg school.

Well Steve and his old man had a falling out. Seems the old man fell pretty hard for one of the bar flies in the Arizona and broke up with Steve's mom. There was a big beef between the father and son. The old man said that Steve could live with his bad ticker.That must have been the time when I saw Steve all swollen up. His heart was starting to go.

As me and the misses sat with Steve in that hospital,he talked about playing football and the days when we were kids. Never brought up drugs. There were a lot of old stories. He was at peace. He looked forward to watching the old programs and movies on the TV. He enjoyed reading. He said I was luckty to have Maria.

We left and promised to to be back,but Steve passed away before we could see him again. I'm sure Steve was dreaming about a simpler time when he reached the end of the 4th quarter.

Wow, thank you for that Rog! What a story. I've known a few like that. Thanks for sharing that with us. R.I.P. Steve Bradaric

Randy

[Rick Farris]

Halls of Shame . . .


The following story was kind of disappointing. Maybe the writer had a chip on his shoulder? Who knows? I know Brian has worked with the man, and I don't want him to make any comment that would be out of line for his position with the Bulls, but I would hope that Michael Jordan was bigger than this. All of my recent boxing "Hall of Fame" experience has brought into focus both the good and bad in people, not just the inductees, but those involved with such organizations. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jordan’s night to remember turns petty

By Adrian Wojnarowski, Yahoo! Sports


Buzz up! 501 PrintSPRINGFIELD, Mass. – The tears tumbled, flooding his face and Michael Jordan had yet to march to the microphone at Symphony Hall. He had listened to the genuine stories and speeches of a remarkable class. He had watched a “This is Your Life” video compilation of his basketball genius. Everything flashed before him, a legacy that he’s fought with body and soul to never, ever let go into yesterday.

Yes, Michael Jordan was still fighting it on Friday night, and maybe he always will. Mostly, he was crying over the passing of that old Jordan, and it wouldn’t be long until he climbed out of his suit and back into his uniform and shorts, back into an adolescent act that’s turned so tedious.

This wasn’t a Hall of Fame induction speech, but a bully tripping nerds with lunch trays in the school cafeteria. He had a responsibility to his standing in history, to players past and present, and he let everyone down. This was a night to leave behind the petty grievances and past slights – real and imagined. This was a night to be gracious, to be generous with praise and credit.

Related Video Jordan speaks on honor Jordan speaks on honor

More NBA Videos More From Adrian WojnarowskiAgainst Jordan, defense never rested Sep 11, 2009 Trail of Crumbs leads Jordan to Hall's doorstep Sep 9, 2009 “M.J. was introduced as the greatest player ever and he’s still standing there trying to settle scores,” one Hall of Famer said privately later.

Jordan didn’t hurt his image with the NBA community, as much as he reminded them of it. “That’s who Michael is,” one high-ranking team executive said. “It wasn’t like he was out of character. There’s no one else who could’ve gotten away with what he did tonight. But it was Michael, and everyone just goes along.”

Jordan wandered through an unfocused and uninspired speech at Symphony Hall, disparaging people who had little to do with his career, like Jeff Van Gundy and Bryon Russell. He ignored people who had so much to do with it, like his personal trainer, Tim Grover. This had been a moving and inspirational night for the NBA – one of its best ceremonies ever – and five minutes into Jordan’s speech it began to spiral into something else. Something unworthy of Jordan’s stature, something beneath him.

Jordan spent more time pointlessly admonishing Van Gundy and Russell for crossing him with taunts a dozen years ago than he did singling out his three children. When he finally acknowledged his family, Jordan blurted, in part, to them, “I wouldn’t want to be you guys.”

Well, um, thanks Dad. He meant it, too. If not the NBA, he should’ve thought of his children before he started spraying fire at everyone.

No one ever feels sorry for Isiah Thomas, but Jordan tsk-tsked him and George Gervin and Magic Johnson for the 1985 All-Star game “freeze-out.” Jordan was a rookie, and the older stars decided to isolate him. It was a long time ago, and he obliterated them all for six NBA championships and five MVP trophies. Isiah and the Ice Man looked stunned, as intimidated 50 feet from the stage, as they might have been on the basketball court.

The cheering and laughter egged Jordan on, but this was no public service for him. Just because he was smiling didn’t mean this speech hadn’t dissolved into a downright vicious volley.

Worst of all, he flew his old high school teammate, Leroy Smith, to Springfield for the induction. Remember, Smith was the upperclassman his coach, Pop Herring, kept on varsity over him as a high school sophomore. He waggled to the old coach, “I wanted to make sure you understood: You made a mistake, dude.”

Whatever, Michael. Everyone gets it. Truth be told, everyone got it years ago, but somehow he thinks this is a cleansing exercise. When basketball wanted to celebrate Jordan as the greatest player ever, wanted to honor him for changing basketball everywhere, he was petty and punitive. Yes, there was some wink-wink teasing with his beloved Dean Smith, but make no mistake: Jordan revealed himself to be strangely bitter. You won, Michael. You won it all. Yet, he keeps chasing something that he’ll never catch, and sometimes, well, it all seems so hollow for him.

This is why he’s a terrible basketball executive because he still hasn’t learned to channel his aggressions into hard work on that job. For the Charlotte Bobcats, Jordan remains an absentee boss who keeps searching for basketball players on fairways and greens.

From the speeches of David Robinson to John Stockton, Jerry Sloan to Vivian Stringer, there was an unmistakable thread of peace of mind and purpose. At times, they were self-deprecating and deflective of praise. Jordan hasn’t mastered that art, and it reveals him to be oddly insecure. When Jordan should’ve thanked the Bulls ex-GM, Jerry Krause, for surrounding him with championship coaches and talent, he ridiculed him. It was me, Jordan was saying. Not him. “The organization didn’t play with the flu in Utah,” Jordan grumbled.

For Jordan to let someone else share in the Bulls’ dynasty will never diminish his greatness. Just enhance it. Only, he’s 46 years old and he still doesn’t get it. Yes, Jordan did gush over Scottie Pippen, but he failed to confess that he had wanted Krause to draft North Carolina’s Joe Wolf. Sometimes, no one is better with a half a story, half a truth, than Jordan. All his life, no one’s ever called him on it.

Whatever Jordan wants to believe, understand this: The reason that Van Gundy’s declaration of him as a “con man” so angered him is because it was true on so many levels.

It was part of his competitiveness edge, part of his marketability, and yes, part of his human frailty.

Jordan wasn’t crying over sentimentality on Friday night, as much as he was the loss of a life that he returned from two retirements to have again. The finality of his basketball genius hit him at the induction ceremony, hit him hard. Jordan showed little poise and less grace.


Once again, he turned the evening into something bordering between vicious and vapid, an empty exercise for a night that should’ve had staying power, that should’ve been transformative for basketball and its greatest player. What fueled his fury as a thirtysomething now fuels his bitterness as a lost, wandering fortysomething who threatened a comeback at 50.


“Don’t laugh,” Michael Jordan warned.


No one’s laughing anymore.


Once and for all, Michael: It’s over.

You won.

Adrian Wojnarowski is the NBA columnist for Yahoo! Sports. Send Adrian a question or comment for potential use in a future column or webcast.
Updated 8 hours, 32 minutes ago

[Rick Farris]

Jeri and I stopped at an antique store earlier today and I found this classic photo of Jack Dempsey and Babe Ruth. Naturally I had to get it.


Jack Dempsey and Babe Ruth
Belmont Hotel, Day after Firpo fight, September 15, 1923

Randy . . . Great picture.

[Randyman]

Jeri and I stopped at an antique store earlier today and I found this classic photo of Jack Dempsey and Babe Ruth. Naturally I had to get it.


Jack Dempsey and Babe Ruth
Belmont Hotel, Day after Firpo fight, September 15, 1923

Randy . . . Great picture.

Thanks Rick.

Randy

[Rick Farris]

Two weeks and counting "CBHOF"

Frank
Looking forward to seeing you and Connie , Rick and Monica, Randy and Jeri.

Rog . . .

Monica just started a new job and will not be able to make it this time, however, I'm more excited about this event than I am the WBHOF event next month.
I was with Don Fraser yesterday and he and Frank have put together a great event, and I must say, a very nice annual program.
I have only attended a couple of CBHOF events, but they are always very comfortable and give you the feeling you are surrounded by an extended family.
I commend Don & Frank for all their hard work, and can point to their success as an example of what two "real" boxing people can accomplish.

I regret my old watering hole, "The Sportsman's Lodge" (located a couple blocks from my home), has gone out of business and will no longer host the event.
However, Steven's Steak House has been a friend to boxing for many years and is always a great venue for such events.
For us who have grown up in Los Angeles, whether as fighters or fans, this is the event where we find the people so often written about in these pages.

Just two weeks away, followed by our event four weeks later.
Look forward to seeing everybody again.

-Rick Farris

[Rick Farris]

A LEFT HOOK TO THE LIVER

Like I was mentioning ,I would once in a while watch the fighters train at the various gymnasiums in Tijuana when I was living down there. Just about every colonia had a little gym where the neighborhood aspirants would come in and see if they had what it takes.

Not until recently, most Mexican fighters were pure bangers. There were exceptions. Miguelito Canto and Baby Vasquez pop into my mind,but I remember the big left hookers. Especially throwing that shot to the liver. You'd get two Mexican fighters with the same approach against each other ,winding up throwing those left handed body shots, and the fan was in for plenty of action.

Gato Gonzalez will always talk about his left hook,"su gancho",to the liver. A man's"higado." It took the legs away from many of his opponents.

I was watching a workout at the CREA gym one in Tijuana a few years ago. An old guy standing next to me said something I'll never forget. We were watching two of these left hook artists going at it . He turned to me and shook his head.
"You know," he said,"the Mexican diet is made to order for a fighter to attack another's liver."

I often think about that remark. What came first, the diet or the left hook to the liver?

I was introduce to the liver shot back in the mid-1950s, one day at the Teamsters gym Wicho Morales dug a left hook to my liver, I was against the ropers and I couldn't move, my legs wouldn't do what I wanted them to do, it was about 30 seconds before I could move again, I can still feel that shot....

Frank, you made a very good point. A boxer will NEVER forget the first time they feel that punch, or the second or third, for that matter.

-Rick Farris



Why the "Hook to the Liver" is such a painful blow . . .

Your liver is like a filter, it filters & cleans the blood of toxins as it pumps thru the body. When a boxer lands a shot to the liver, the liver is momentarily compressed, shutting off the flow of blood for just a split second. A second later, as the punch is retracted, the liver opens up again and the blood then floods the liver, pushing collected bile & toxins directly into the stomach. This is where the pain comes from. You'll notice that for a split-second after the blow lands, the boxer will appear to freeze, a moment later the agony of the punch will overcome him and he will generally wince in pain, holding his side as he hits the canvas. It has a "delayed reaction" effect.

Now I'm no doctor, so if somebody else can explain it better, go right ahead. The bottom line is, IT'S THE MOST PAINFUL PUNCH IN BOXING!


Dr. Richard Farris, liver specialist

[Rick Farris]

boxer: Wicho Morales
Global ID 145251
sex male
division super featherweight
won 8 (KO 2) + lost 1 (KO 0) + drawn 0 = 9
rounds boxed 43 : KO% 22.22
biography


BOUTS:

1962-05-28 126½ Jerry Stokes 124 6-1-1
Sports Arena, Los Angeles, California, United States L PTS 8 8
1962-04-16 Tony Herrera 19-1-0
Strelich Stadium, Bakersfield, California, United States W PTS 8 8
1962-03-09 129 Victor Lopez 130 2-3-1
Olympic Auditorium, Los Angeles, California, United States W KO 2 6
1961-08-09 129 Willie Lucero 129 16-9-3
Municipal Auditorium, Long Beach, California, United States W PTS 6 6
Lucero was knocked down in the 5th round.

1961-04-06 128½ Kid Velvet 128½ 1-0-0
Olympic Auditorium, Los Angeles, California, United States W KO 3 4
1960-06-30 125½ Norm Kuda 126 2-1-0
Olympic Auditorium, Los Angeles, California, United States W PTS 4 4
1960-06-16 125 Frankie Sedillo 125 1-1-0
Olympic Auditorium, Los Angeles, California, United States W PTS 4 4
1960-05-17 128½ Frankie Sedillo 126
Olympic Auditorium, Los Angeles, California, United States W PTS 4 4
1960-01-21 127 Jose Valdives 129 1-1-1
Olympic Auditorium, Los Angeles, California, United States W PTS 4 4


Frank . . . Wicho Morales looked to be going somewhere, at least going by his record. I remember Frankie Sedillo whom he beat.
His only loss was a decision to Jerry Stokes, who was an exceptional boxer.
Wonder what happened to the guy? Usually they fall in love, or change managers, or get too cocky, drugs, alcohol. Do you know what Wicho Morales story is?


-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Frank . . . Wicho Morales looked to be going somewhere, at least going by his record. I remember Frankie Sedillo whom he beat.
His only loss was a decision to Jerry Stokes, who was an exceptional boxer.
Wonder what happened to the guy? Usually they fall in love, or change managers, or get too cocky, drugs, alcohol. Do you know what Wicho Morales story is?


-Rick Farris

Rick, I last seen Wicho around the early 1970's, he at that time had his sons and other kids he was training fighting in the Jr. Why did he stopped fighting? I couldn't tell you, what I can tell is that he was a good fighter. One thing I know was that he didn't do drug or much if any alcohol, most likely fell in love.

[dagosd2000]

Two weeks and counting "CBHOF"

Frank
Looking forward to seeing you and Connie , Rick and Monica, Randy and Jeri.

Rog . . .

Monica just started a new job and will not be able to make it this time, however, I'm more excited about this event than I am the WBHOF event next month.
I was with Don Fraser yesterday and he and Frank have put together a great event, and I must say, a very nice annual program.
I have only attended a couple of CBHOF events, but they are always very comfortable and give you the feeling you are surrounded by an extended family.
I commend Don & Frank for all their hard work, and can point to their success as an example of what two "real" boxing people can accomplish.

I regret my old watering hole, "The Sportsman's Lodge" (located a couple blocks from my home), has gone out of business and will no longer host the event.
However, Steven's Steak House has been a friend to boxing for many years and is always a great venue for such events.
For us who have grown up in Los Angeles, whether as fighters or fans, this is the event where we find the people so often written about in these pages.

Just two weeks away, followed by our event four weeks later.
Look forward to seeing everybody again.

-Rick Farris

Rick
That's what I'm looking forward to-something comfortable. Too bad Moni can't come,but you'll be there. Steven's must not have had any hard feelings about your last appearance there. Rog

[dagosd2000]

A LEFT HOOK TO THE LIVER

Like I was mentioning ,I would once in a while watch the fighters train at the various gymnasiums in Tijuana when I was living down there. Just about every colonia had a little gym where the neighborhood aspirants would come in and see if they had what it takes.

Not until recently, most Mexican fighters were pure bangers. There were exceptions. Miguelito Canto and Baby Vasquez pop into my mind,but I remember the big left hookers. Especially throwing that shot to the liver. You'd get two Mexican fighters with the same approach against each other ,winding up throwing those left handed body shots, and the fan was in for plenty of action.

Gato Gonzalez will always talk about his left hook,"su gancho",to the liver. A man's"higado." It took the legs away from many of his opponents.

I was watching a workout at the CREA gym one in Tijuana a few years ago. An old guy standing next to me said something I'll never forget. We were watching two of these left hook artists going at it . He turned to me and shook his head.
"You know," he said,"the Mexican diet is made to order for a fighter to attack another's liver."

I often think about that remark. What came first, the diet or the left hook to the liver?

I was introduce to the liver shot back in the mid-1950s, one day at the Teamsters gym Wicho Morales dug a left hook to my liver, I was against the ropers and I couldn't move, my legs wouldn't do what I wanted them to do, it was about 30 seconds before I could move again, I can still feel that shot....

Frank, you made a very good point. A boxer will NEVER forget the first time they feel that punch, or the second or third, for that matter.

-Rick Farris



Why the "Hook to the Liver" is such a painful blow . . .

Your liver is like a filter, it filters & cleans the blood of toxins as it pumps thru the body. When a boxer lands a shot to the liver, the liver is momentarily compressed, shutting off the flow of blood for just a split second. A second later, as the punch is retracted, the liver opens up again and the blood then floods the liver, pushing collected bile & toxins directly into the stomach. This is where the pain comes from. You'll notice that for a split-second after the blow lands, the boxer will appear to freeze, a moment later the agony of the punch will overcome him and he will generally wince in pain, holding his side as he hits the canvas. It has a "delayed reaction" effect.

Now I'm no doctor, so if somebody else can explain it better, go right ahead. The bottom line is, IT'S THE MOST PAINFUL PUNCH IN BOXING!


Dr. Richard Farris, liver specialist

I can hear Tom's footsteps approaching.

[kikibalt]

Rick, I was told by Don Fraser that the The Sportman's Lodge is going to reopen...

[kikibalt]

Two weeks and counting "CBHOF"

Frank
Looking forward to seeing you and Connie , Rick and Monica, Randy and Jeri.

Rog . . .

Monica just started a new job and will not be able to make it this time, however, I'm more excited about this event than I am the WBHOF event next month.
I was with Don Fraser yesterday and he and Frank have put together a great event, and I must say, a very nice annual program.
I have only attended a couple of CBHOF events, but they are always very comfortable and give you the feeling you are surrounded by an extended family.
I commend Don & Frank for all their hard work, and can point to their success as an example of what two "real" boxing people can accomplish.

I regret my old watering hole, "The Sportsman's Lodge" (located a couple blocks from my home), has gone out of business and will no longer host the event.
However, Steven's Steak House has been a friend to boxing for many years and is always a great venue for such events.
For us who have grown up in Los Angeles, whether as fighters or fans, this is the event where we find the people so often written about in these pages.

Just two weeks away, followed by our event four weeks later.
Look forward to seeing everybody again.

-Rick Farris

Thanks Rick....

[kikibalt]

'Mexican Time"

Not being on time a high art in Mexico
Punctuality isn't dear to many Mexicans. 'It's not personal,' one commentator says, speaking of the phenomenon of perpetual lateness. She herself came late to an interview -- in her own living room.



Given Mexico City's choking traffic, seen here along the capital's Paseo de la Reforma, residents aren't likely to give anyone caught in it a hard time about being late. (OMAR TORRES, AFP/Getty Images / February 12, 2008)

By Ken Ellingwood

Reporting from Mexico City - We attacked the start of first grade with military precision. Up at 6:15, with pretty purple dress at the ready. Pancake served, teeth brushed, sandals cinched -- with time to spare. We were a Swiss watch.

But this isn't Switzerland. The school bus didn't arrive at 7:20, as scheduled. Or at 7:30. Or 7:45. The van finally pulled up at 7:54. But the driver gave no sign anything was wrong. She was all grins and big waves, as pleased as if she'd nailed an especially difficult dismount.

The punctual suffer in Mexico City, where lateness often seems as natural as gravity. Host a kids' birthday party and expect guests two or three hours late. Get to the wedding 45 minutes after the time on the invitation and you're right on the money. I've waited an hour and a half for a scheduled interview with a top Mexico City official, only to find out he wasn't going to make it at all.

So much tardiness, so little time. There are many reasons. The city is enormous, with 20 million people colliding like atoms trying to get to the other side. Traffic is a monster. And, like just about everywhere else, 21st century life is full of time-eating distractions.

But the main reason for the chronic lateness has to do with Mexico, which as a rule couldn't give two centavosabout U.S.-style time expectations.

Mexicans have many traits to admire -- their enterprise, their ability to make do, to endure and to enjoy life. Punctuality, though, is nowhere on the list for most of them. The Aztecs may have cared enough about time to carve their famous stone calendar, but you wonder sometimes if people here are still relying on it to get through the day.

"It's not personal. They're always late with everybody: with the judge, with the priest, with their wedding, with their mother, with their father," said Guadalupe Loaeza, an author and columnist (who arrived late for an interview in her own living room). "It's something we cannot help."

Loaeza and others offer theories to explain tardiness in Mexico: a certain lack of responsibility, exaggerated focus on the present, generous social tolerance and plain habit.

But there is something else. Time in Mexico doesn't work the same way it does in the U.S., which, you'll recall, was founded by parsons and scolds who equated being on time with being good. (Time is money!)

"Here, the concept of time is very flexible," Loaeza said.

Translation: It's OK to tell someone you'll be there in a few minutes when you know there's no way this cab is getting through that traffic in under half an hour. (But you don't have to make that call until you're at least 15 minutes late, seeing as the other person is probably running late too.)

The stretchiness is embedded in words whose job is to fudge, create wriggle room, dampen expectations.

Take ahorita, a diminutive of the word for "now." Ahorita can mean "right now." But it's frequently used to mean five minutes from now, 15 minutes from now, half an hour from now -- anything but now now. Al ratito is another diminutive (see how it works?) that means "in a little while," but don't start checking your watch.

Appointments and numerical time estimates can be as squishy. You may be asked to show up for an office appointment at "9 to 9:30," rather than on the dot. A "five-minute" delay often means 15, a half-hour is starting to sound like bad news, and an hour pretty much means you're safe to cue up "Doctor Zhivago."

But there are plenty of people in Mexico who are sticklers for punctuality. Monterrey, the business center in northern Mexico, is known to mind its clock. In Ciudad Juarez, people manage to keep appointments despite the runaway violence.

"Mexicans know when they should be punctual and which things start punctually," said Victor Gordoa, a prominent image consultant who advises clients to be on time. "For example, the bullfight is one of the few events in Mexico that starts exactly at 4 in the afternoon, and that's the tradition."

And the more Mexico folds itself into the global economy through NAFTA and other trade ties, the more it acts like the clock-obsessed people beyond its borders. In the business world, the two-hour-plus lunch is giving way to a hurried bite.

"You can't say, 'I'll call you at 5,' and then call at 7," said Jorge Smeke, director of business studies at Iberoamerican University here. "You're beginning to see changes."

So you never know. Just when you've figured out how late you can be in Mexico, the other person is on time. An expatriate friend played it too cool the other day and missed half of a school meeting that started on schedule.

There's a happy flip side to this elasticity about time. It's easy to see your dentist on short notice, even if someone with an appointment ends up waiting. And no one is likely to give you a hard time when Mexico City traffic takes you hostage.

One adapts. The other day, I scheduled a phone interview for the same time I was supposed to meet someone else -- a scheduling stunt I would never have tried in the States.

But like so many things here, it worked out fine. One of the people was late by 20 minutes. The other -- well, let's just say a Russian war epic could have come in handy.

[email protected]

[Expug]

Halls of Shame . . .


The following story was kind of disappointing. Maybe the writer had a chip on his shoulder? Who knows? I know Brian has worked with the man, and I don't want him to make any comment that would be out of line for his position with the Bulls, but I would hope that Michael Jordan was bigger than this. All of my recent boxing "Hall of Fame" experience has brought into focus both the good and bad in people, not just the inductees, but those involved with such organizations. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jordan’s night to remember turns petty

By Adrian Wojnarowski, Yahoo! Sports


Buzz up! 501 PrintSPRINGFIELD, Mass. – The tears tumbled, flooding his face and Michael Jordan had yet to march to the microphone at Symphony Hall. He had listened to the genuine stories and speeches of a remarkable class. He had watched a “This is Your Life” video compilation of his basketball genius. Everything flashed before him, a legacy that he’s fought with body and soul to never, ever let go into yesterday.

Yes, Michael Jordan was still fighting it on Friday night, and maybe he always will. Mostly, he was crying over the passing of that old Jordan, and it wouldn’t be long until he climbed out of his suit and back into his uniform and shorts, back into an adolescent act that’s turned so tedious.

This wasn’t a Hall of Fame induction speech, but a bully tripping nerds with lunch trays in the school cafeteria. He had a responsibility to his standing in history, to players past and present, and he let everyone down. This was a night to leave behind the petty grievances and past slights – real and imagined. This was a night to be gracious, to be generous with praise and credit.

Related Video Jordan speaks on honor Jordan speaks on honor

More NBA Videos More From Adrian WojnarowskiAgainst Jordan, defense never rested Sep 11, 2009 Trail of Crumbs leads Jordan to Hall's doorstep Sep 9, 2009 “M.J. was introduced as the greatest player ever and he’s still standing there trying to settle scores,” one Hall of Famer said privately later.

Jordan didn’t hurt his image with the NBA community, as much as he reminded them of it. “That’s who Michael is,” one high-ranking team executive said. “It wasn’t like he was out of character. There’s no one else who could’ve gotten away with what he did tonight. But it was Michael, and everyone just goes along.”

Jordan wandered through an unfocused and uninspired speech at Symphony Hall, disparaging people who had little to do with his career, like Jeff Van Gundy and Bryon Russell. He ignored people who had so much to do with it, like his personal trainer, Tim Grover. This had been a moving and inspirational night for the NBA – one of its best ceremonies ever – and five minutes into Jordan’s speech it began to spiral into something else. Something unworthy of Jordan’s stature, something beneath him.

Jordan spent more time pointlessly admonishing Van Gundy and Russell for crossing him with taunts a dozen years ago than he did singling out his three children. When he finally acknowledged his family, Jordan blurted, in part, to them, “I wouldn’t want to be you guys.”

Well, um, thanks Dad. He meant it, too. If not the NBA, he should’ve thought of his children before he started spraying fire at everyone.

No one ever feels sorry for Isiah Thomas, but Jordan tsk-tsked him and George Gervin and Magic Johnson for the 1985 All-Star game “freeze-out.” Jordan was a rookie, and the older stars decided to isolate him. It was a long time ago, and he obliterated them all for six NBA championships and five MVP trophies. Isiah and the Ice Man looked stunned, as intimidated 50 feet from the stage, as they might have been on the basketball court.

The cheering and laughter egged Jordan on, but this was no public service for him. Just because he was smiling didn’t mean this speech hadn’t dissolved into a downright vicious volley.

Worst of all, he flew his old high school teammate, Leroy Smith, to Springfield for the induction. Remember, Smith was the upperclassman his coach, Pop Herring, kept on varsity over him as a high school sophomore. He waggled to the old coach, “I wanted to make sure you understood: You made a mistake, dude.”

Whatever, Michael. Everyone gets it. Truth be told, everyone got it years ago, but somehow he thinks this is a cleansing exercise. When basketball wanted to celebrate Jordan as the greatest player ever, wanted to honor him for changing basketball everywhere, he was petty and punitive. Yes, there was some wink-wink teasing with his beloved Dean Smith, but make no mistake: Jordan revealed himself to be strangely bitter. You won, Michael. You won it all. Yet, he keeps chasing something that he’ll never catch, and sometimes, well, it all seems so hollow for him.

This is why he’s a terrible basketball executive because he still hasn’t learned to channel his aggressions into hard work on that job. For the Charlotte Bobcats, Jordan remains an absentee boss who keeps searching for basketball players on fairways and greens.

From the speeches of David Robinson to John Stockton, Jerry Sloan to Vivian Stringer, there was an unmistakable thread of peace of mind and purpose. At times, they were self-deprecating and deflective of praise. Jordan hasn’t mastered that art, and it reveals him to be oddly insecure. When Jordan should’ve thanked the Bulls ex-GM, Jerry Krause, for surrounding him with championship coaches and talent, he ridiculed him. It was me, Jordan was saying. Not him. “The organization didn’t play with the flu in Utah,” Jordan grumbled.

For Jordan to let someone else share in the Bulls’ dynasty will never diminish his greatness. Just enhance it. Only, he’s 46 years old and he still doesn’t get it. Yes, Jordan did gush over Scottie Pippen, but he failed to confess that he had wanted Krause to draft North Carolina’s Joe Wolf. Sometimes, no one is better with a half a story, half a truth, than Jordan. All his life, no one’s ever called him on it.

Whatever Jordan wants to believe, understand this: The reason that Van Gundy’s declaration of him as a “con man” so angered him is because it was true on so many levels.

It was part of his competitiveness edge, part of his marketability, and yes, part of his human frailty.

Jordan wasn’t crying over sentimentality on Friday night, as much as he was the loss of a life that he returned from two retirements to have again. The finality of his basketball genius hit him at the induction ceremony, hit him hard. Jordan showed little poise and less grace.


Once again, he turned the evening into something bordering between vicious and vapid, an empty exercise for a night that should’ve had staying power, that should’ve been transformative for basketball and its greatest player. What fueled his fury as a thirtysomething now fuels his bitterness as a lost, wandering fortysomething who threatened a comeback at 50.


“Don’t laugh,” Michael Jordan warned.


No one’s laughing anymore.


Once and for all, Michael: It’s over.

You won.

Adrian Wojnarowski is the NBA columnist for Yahoo! Sports. Send Adrian a question or comment for potential use in a future column or webcast.
Updated 8 hours, 32 minutes ago

The times Ive been around him, Jordan doesnt seem to be real happy.
Ive escorted him a few times up to a suite to watch a game, but its odd how he very rarely comes to any Bull games.
The first couple times I attempted to make a little conversation with the guy, but he didnt have much to say . Now its just "how ya doin lets go" .
Hes gone through a divorce recently . Maybe hes bitter . Hes got the new supermodel girlfriend so basicly hes fitting the celeb stereotype. Nothing new.

I guess the best way for me to describe Jordan or really 90 percent of the NBA players to you guys would be to simply say, "They are absolutely NOTHING like prizefighters".
Prima Donnas Yes. Fighters no.

[dagosd2000]

Bebe Ruth

[dagosd2000]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BjR1mSir58

Babe Ruth Boxing

[kikibalt]

"Joe Houston"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WiDgqeFN17I
"All Night Long"

[kikibalt]

"Dave Brubeck"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmDDOFXSgAs
"Take Five"

[kikibalt]

"Boston Blackie" (Bennie Joe Houston)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDN1_k6xNU4
"Hey Baby"

[dagosd2000]

"Dave Brubeck"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmDDOFXSgAs
"Take Five"

Nice pick Frank. My paisan Joe Morello on drums is great.

[dagosd2000]

Going to eat Bar B Q at my daughter's. Amanda,Adam,and the crew will be there. I'll be watching USC/Ohio State drinking my favorite tequila. Sauza Hornitos. Bon Appetite Go Trojans.

[kikibalt]

"Dave Brubeck"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmDDOFXSgAs
"Take Five"

Nice pick Frank. My paisan Joe Morello on drums is great.

Thanks Rog, that tune reminds me of my late cousin Tony Adame, he used to love jazz and was crazy about 'Take Five"

[kikibalt]

Going to eat Bar B Q at my daughter's. Amanda,Adam,and the crew will be there. I'll be watching USC/Ohio State drinking my favorite tequila. Sauza Hornitos. Bon Appetite Go Trojans.

Enjoy....

[Rick Farris]

Rick, I was told by Don Fraser that the The Sportman's Lodge is going to reopen...

Frank . . .

It will reopen and they are in the process of renovating the building.
The Hotel next door is actually not affiliated with the restaurant/bar/banquet facility and remains open, although it shares the same name and property.
I kind of miss how it was, but have no idea what they have in mind.
Hopefully they will do business with Don in the future.


-Rick Farris

[Rick Farris]

Halls of Shame . . .


The following story was kind of disappointing. Maybe the writer had a chip on his shoulder? Who knows? I know Brian has worked with the man, and I don't want him to make any comment that would be out of line for his position with the Bulls, but I would hope that Michael Jordan was bigger than this. All of my recent boxing "Hall of Fame" experience has brought into focus both the good and bad in people, not just the inductees, but those involved with such organizations. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jordan’s night to remember turns petty

By Adrian Wojnarowski, Yahoo! Sports


Buzz up! 501 PrintSPRINGFIELD, Mass. – The tears tumbled, flooding his face and Michael Jordan had yet to march to the microphone at Symphony Hall. He had listened to the genuine stories and speeches of a remarkable class. He had watched a “This is Your Life” video compilation of his basketball genius. Everything flashed before him, a legacy that he’s fought with body and soul to never, ever let go into yesterday.

Yes, Michael Jordan was still fighting it on Friday night, and maybe he always will. Mostly, he was crying over the passing of that old Jordan, and it wouldn’t be long until he climbed out of his suit and back into his uniform and shorts, back into an adolescent act that’s turned so tedious.

This wasn’t a Hall of Fame induction speech, but a bully tripping nerds with lunch trays in the school cafeteria. He had a responsibility to his standing in history, to players past and present, and he let everyone down. This was a night to leave behind the petty grievances and past slights – real and imagined. This was a night to be gracious, to be generous with praise and credit.

Related Video Jordan speaks on honor Jordan speaks on honor

More NBA Videos More From Adrian WojnarowskiAgainst Jordan, defense never rested Sep 11, 2009 Trail of Crumbs leads Jordan to Hall's doorstep Sep 9, 2009 “M.J. was introduced as the greatest player ever and he’s still standing there trying to settle scores,” one Hall of Famer said privately later.

Jordan didn’t hurt his image with the NBA community, as much as he reminded them of it. “That’s who Michael is,” one high-ranking team executive said. “It wasn’t like he was out of character. There’s no one else who could’ve gotten away with what he did tonight. But it was Michael, and everyone just goes along.”

Jordan wandered through an unfocused and uninspired speech at Symphony Hall, disparaging people who had little to do with his career, like Jeff Van Gundy and Bryon Russell. He ignored people who had so much to do with it, like his personal trainer, Tim Grover. This had been a moving and inspirational night for the NBA – one of its best ceremonies ever – and five minutes into Jordan’s speech it began to spiral into something else. Something unworthy of Jordan’s stature, something beneath him.

Jordan spent more time pointlessly admonishing Van Gundy and Russell for crossing him with taunts a dozen years ago than he did singling out his three children. When he finally acknowledged his family, Jordan blurted, in part, to them, “I wouldn’t want to be you guys.”

Well, um, thanks Dad. He meant it, too. If not the NBA, he should’ve thought of his children before he started spraying fire at everyone.

No one ever feels sorry for Isiah Thomas, but Jordan tsk-tsked him and George Gervin and Magic Johnson for the 1985 All-Star game “freeze-out.” Jordan was a rookie, and the older stars decided to isolate him. It was a long time ago, and he obliterated them all for six NBA championships and five MVP trophies. Isiah and the Ice Man looked stunned, as intimidated 50 feet from the stage, as they might have been on the basketball court.

The cheering and laughter egged Jordan on, but this was no public service for him. Just because he was smiling didn’t mean this speech hadn’t dissolved into a downright vicious volley.

Worst of all, he flew his old high school teammate, Leroy Smith, to Springfield for the induction. Remember, Smith was the upperclassman his coach, Pop Herring, kept on varsity over him as a high school sophomore. He waggled to the old coach, “I wanted to make sure you understood: You made a mistake, dude.”

Whatever, Michael. Everyone gets it. Truth be told, everyone got it years ago, but somehow he thinks this is a cleansing exercise. When basketball wanted to celebrate Jordan as the greatest player ever, wanted to honor him for changing basketball everywhere, he was petty and punitive. Yes, there was some wink-wink teasing with his beloved Dean Smith, but make no mistake: Jordan revealed himself to be strangely bitter. You won, Michael. You won it all. Yet, he keeps chasing something that he’ll never catch, and sometimes, well, it all seems so hollow for him.

This is why he’s a terrible basketball executive because he still hasn’t learned to channel his aggressions into hard work on that job. For the Charlotte Bobcats, Jordan remains an absentee boss who keeps searching for basketball players on fairways and greens.

From the speeches of David Robinson to John Stockton, Jerry Sloan to Vivian Stringer, there was an unmistakable thread of peace of mind and purpose. At times, they were self-deprecating and deflective of praise. Jordan hasn’t mastered that art, and it reveals him to be oddly insecure. When Jordan should’ve thanked the Bulls ex-GM, Jerry Krause, for surrounding him with championship coaches and talent, he ridiculed him. It was me, Jordan was saying. Not him. “The organization didn’t play with the flu in Utah,” Jordan grumbled.

For Jordan to let someone else share in the Bulls’ dynasty will never diminish his greatness. Just enhance it. Only, he’s 46 years old and he still doesn’t get it. Yes, Jordan did gush over Scottie Pippen, but he failed to confess that he had wanted Krause to draft North Carolina’s Joe Wolf. Sometimes, no one is better with a half a story, half a truth, than Jordan. All his life, no one’s ever called him on it.

Whatever Jordan wants to believe, understand this: The reason that Van Gundy’s declaration of him as a “con man” so angered him is because it was true on so many levels.

It was part of his competitiveness edge, part of his marketability, and yes, part of his human frailty.

Jordan wasn’t crying over sentimentality on Friday night, as much as he was the loss of a life that he returned from two retirements to have again. The finality of his basketball genius hit him at the induction ceremony, hit him hard. Jordan showed little poise and less grace.


Once again, he turned the evening into something bordering between vicious and vapid, an empty exercise for a night that should’ve had staying power, that should’ve been transformative for basketball and its greatest player. What fueled his fury as a thirtysomething now fuels his bitterness as a lost, wandering fortysomething who threatened a comeback at 50.


“Don’t laugh,” Michael Jordan warned.


No one’s laughing anymore.


Once and for all, Michael: It’s over.

You won.

Adrian Wojnarowski is the NBA columnist for Yahoo! Sports. Send Adrian a question or comment for potential use in a future column or webcast.
Updated 8 hours, 32 minutes ago

The times Ive been around him, Jordan doesnt seem to be real happy.
Ive escorted him a few times up to a suite to watch a game, but its odd how he very rarely comes to any Bull games.
The first couple times I attempted to make a little conversation with the guy, but he didnt have much to say . Now its just "how ya doin lets go" .
Hes gone through a divorce recently . Maybe hes bitter . Hes got the new supermodel girlfriend so basicly hes fitting the celeb stereotype. Nothing new.

I guess the best way for me to describe Jordan or really 90 percent of the NBA players to you guys would be to simply say, "They are absolutely NOTHING like prizefighters".
Prima Donnas Yes. Fighters no.

Thanks Brian. I was curious of your experience. That's all that matters to me.


-Rick