I'm doing better Charlie, thanks. I'll see the neurologist on Monday and we'll go over the biopsy. All the best to you and your family! randyCNorkusJr wrote:Randy- You are in my thoughts and prayers till they figure this thing out. Though not ruling out anything at this point-at least with the CT and MRI they dont see anything definitive like a tumor right now. I never thought I'd be wishing a serious sinus problem on someone, on hoping it is that over any other alternatives.
Always, your friend, Charlie & Roseann Norkus Jr.
Classic American West Coast Boxing
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Thanks Rick, yes, it's been a little extra tough but i'm still swinging away! Take care my friend! randyEl Gallo wrote:Randy - I also want you to know that Monica and are praying for a speedy recovery for you.
I know it's been a tough year for you. You aways just remain the cool fighter that you are.
That's why you are a Hall of Famer! Bless you friend.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Thanks Dan, I'm recovering nicely. Jeri's taking good care of me, I'm following the docs orders and eating right! randyscartissue wrote:Damn it, Randy, I'm pulling for you here in the midwest, amigo. Speedy recovery.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Great story and great advice to your grandson! Spoken like a true coach and grandfather! Sounds like a sharp kid! Best of luck to him!dagosd2000 wrote:Down Time
"Abuelito,they've moved the sparring class back a hour. After the conditioning class I'll have a hour of down time,"said my grandson.
"Adam,that can be a blessing in disgiuse."
"How do you mean?"
"Well let's go to the Chinese place next door and I'll buy you a boba."
Next to the gym is a Chinese bakery that sells drinks and pastries. Adam ordered a boba. I ordered coffee. We went outside and sat at a table.
"Adam,when I was coaching football,I'd arrange for the team to watch a few Charger practices."
"Why did you do that?"
"Well part of it was because,I'd always pick up a couple of new things,but it was mostly for the kids."
"Did they like going?"
"Yeah.At first I don't think they knew what I wanted them to focus on. But I'd send the receivers over to where the receivers were practicing. The QBs over to watch the QBs and so forth. I brought the O Line to watch the offensive linemen."
"I bet they learned."
"Of course. They were watching pro athletes and pro coaching. They were understanding the finer points. Also getting a view of intensity."
"I think I understand."
"So what I'm trying to get across is in that a hour between classes you can watch and learn. Watch Tiger's son train. Ask questions. Work on things that you can refine. Skipping rope. Shadow boxing. Do more ab work.Get the hang of the speed bag. They like you in there Adam. You're the youngest kid in the adult class."
"I've made more friends in the gym than at school."
"They're older than you and treat you like one of them. That will pay off."
Adam sipped the last of his drink.
"Abuelito,will you wait for me until the sparring class is over?I want to go back to the gym and watch the big guys spar."
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
dagosd2000 wrote:
"Mantequilla" Napoles
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Randy and Jeri De La O
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
One of my favorite pictures from California


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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Well Rounded
My grandaughter Amanda just turned 17 in April. She's been dancing flamenco and ballet consistently for 13 of those years. Me and the wife take Amanda and her brother Adam to Spain every year. Amanda studies flamenco in the Andulcia region. Adam studies guitar.
When we took our first trip to Sevilla we were very fortunate to be introduced to one the oldest flamenco families in Andalucia.Miguel Vargas and Esperanza Fernandez. Amanda was 9 years old. Adam did not go with us then. He was too young. I remember when Amanda called her future teacher Miguel Vargas on the phone stating her position of finding a teacher. He said not to worry. Come down to the studio today and you'll be fine.
Miguel put Amanda right in there with the adults. Women from all over the world. Many had their own studios and were there to hone their skills.When I saw what Amanda was walking into I was apprehensive. Miguel put her right in front of the class and he was smiling all the way. Amanda was walking more than dancing. The choreagraphy was excrutiating. The other women didn't mind though. In fact they took her under their wings. A little girl from the U.S.(the only American in the class might mention)hanging in there like a champ. But I think the reason for that was Miguel. He never chastised her for not dancing like the others. He made her feel that she was doing just fine. He even took her aside to show her some steps so that when she went back to San Diego she could show the other little girls in her class.
I think her first trip to Spain was the most important step in her career. Her confidence,not only on the dance floor,but in life's situations came to fruit. All at nine years of age. I owe that to Miguel and I've told him so many times.
Amanda grew into a very poised young lady. She's happy and kind and doesn't do dumb things. All A's in achool. Programming herself to go to UC Santa Barbara to study dancing. She wants to dance professionally,see the world ,and one day teach flamenco. She was blessed with natural beauty and is becoming recognized in the international flamenco community. Her grace on the dance floor. The way she holds herself.The execution. The audience is captivated by her.
Ok ,Amanda is all woman. She picks out her clothes and make up like a professional artist. Style is what she is all about.She acts beyond her years.
The other day she went to see the movie,"42." She loved it. I thought this was maybe a little odd because Amanda isn't much for sports. I haven't seen the movie,but she was asking me all kinds of questions about Jackie Robinson. I tried my best to give her insights that I thought were not in the movie. That Jackie Robinson was more conservative than liberal in his politics and that he wasn't a high profile figure in the civil rights movement. Amanda was all ears.
Yesterday when I picked her up from school she talked to me about how she had formed a peer counciling group with some other students and that they had met with the principal to get their group to help out kids on campus next year. She also told me that in her psychology study group each student had to pick out a major figure of the 20th century. Amanda's pick was Babe Ruth.Again she asked me for any information that I might have on the Bambino.Again I scratched my head.
While I was driving her home she took out of her bag a book.It was a biography on Mickey Mantle called "The Mick." I had read it a while back.
"What made you pick out a book on Mickey Mantle?"I asked her.
"Well I liked "42" so much that I thought I'd read a book on Mickey Mantle. I heard you talk about him before."
"Well ."I said," I don't think the book will be as sentimental as the Jackie Robinson movie. The Mantle book is kind of a book for guys. All the horsing around he does is condoned."
"I know,"said Amanda. "I know how men are. Besides reading a book like that makes me more well rounded."
My grandaughter Amanda just turned 17 in April. She's been dancing flamenco and ballet consistently for 13 of those years. Me and the wife take Amanda and her brother Adam to Spain every year. Amanda studies flamenco in the Andulcia region. Adam studies guitar.
When we took our first trip to Sevilla we were very fortunate to be introduced to one the oldest flamenco families in Andalucia.Miguel Vargas and Esperanza Fernandez. Amanda was 9 years old. Adam did not go with us then. He was too young. I remember when Amanda called her future teacher Miguel Vargas on the phone stating her position of finding a teacher. He said not to worry. Come down to the studio today and you'll be fine.
Miguel put Amanda right in there with the adults. Women from all over the world. Many had their own studios and were there to hone their skills.When I saw what Amanda was walking into I was apprehensive. Miguel put her right in front of the class and he was smiling all the way. Amanda was walking more than dancing. The choreagraphy was excrutiating. The other women didn't mind though. In fact they took her under their wings. A little girl from the U.S.(the only American in the class might mention)hanging in there like a champ. But I think the reason for that was Miguel. He never chastised her for not dancing like the others. He made her feel that she was doing just fine. He even took her aside to show her some steps so that when she went back to San Diego she could show the other little girls in her class.
I think her first trip to Spain was the most important step in her career. Her confidence,not only on the dance floor,but in life's situations came to fruit. All at nine years of age. I owe that to Miguel and I've told him so many times.
Amanda grew into a very poised young lady. She's happy and kind and doesn't do dumb things. All A's in achool. Programming herself to go to UC Santa Barbara to study dancing. She wants to dance professionally,see the world ,and one day teach flamenco. She was blessed with natural beauty and is becoming recognized in the international flamenco community. Her grace on the dance floor. The way she holds herself.The execution. The audience is captivated by her.
Ok ,Amanda is all woman. She picks out her clothes and make up like a professional artist. Style is what she is all about.She acts beyond her years.
The other day she went to see the movie,"42." She loved it. I thought this was maybe a little odd because Amanda isn't much for sports. I haven't seen the movie,but she was asking me all kinds of questions about Jackie Robinson. I tried my best to give her insights that I thought were not in the movie. That Jackie Robinson was more conservative than liberal in his politics and that he wasn't a high profile figure in the civil rights movement. Amanda was all ears.
Yesterday when I picked her up from school she talked to me about how she had formed a peer counciling group with some other students and that they had met with the principal to get their group to help out kids on campus next year. She also told me that in her psychology study group each student had to pick out a major figure of the 20th century. Amanda's pick was Babe Ruth.Again she asked me for any information that I might have on the Bambino.Again I scratched my head.
While I was driving her home she took out of her bag a book.It was a biography on Mickey Mantle called "The Mick." I had read it a while back.
"What made you pick out a book on Mickey Mantle?"I asked her.
"Well I liked "42" so much that I thought I'd read a book on Mickey Mantle. I heard you talk about him before."
"Well ."I said," I don't think the book will be as sentimental as the Jackie Robinson movie. The Mantle book is kind of a book for guys. All the horsing around he does is condoned."
"I know,"said Amanda. "I know how men are. Besides reading a book like that makes me more well rounded."
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Amanda with her teacher on her first visit to Spain,Miguel Vargas.Amanda was 9 tears old. Amanda has become a part of the family to Miguel and his wife Espranza. She baby sits their two young sons, They've bought her clothes(a 500 dollar flamenco dress) and thay said when Amanda is ready to study in Spain she can live and study with them.
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
A Fast Count
Fighters can up with some of the best excuses for things other than why they lost a fight. When my pal's father owned the Orient Bar on the corner of 4th and F streets in downtown San Diego there used to be one ex pug who would come around at night and pull him up a stool at the end of the bar by the door. His name was Curtis,a black dude,who fought on the under cards at the Coliseum. Curtis,like many of the fighters in San Diego,came out of the service. Curtis was ex Navy.
I remember watching Curtis a lot. He didn't have much of a fan base like Ken Norton who came out of the Marines in San Diego.Norton eventually became a very good heavyweight who ,in my opinion,had the best of Ali in all three of their fights. Maybe if Curtis was a Mexican he would of heard more cheers than cat whistles fighting those 6 rounders. Anyway he was in there.Sometimes he looked better than the time before,but you could tell he was always going to be a crowd chaser.
When Curtis would come into the Orient Bar,I'd always buy him a drink. He was a better conversationalist than he was a pugilist.
"Old man Tak ought to hire more Japanese girls in this place,"he said to me on night over a draft.
"There are more Philippino and Korean girls around that look for this kind of work,"I said.
"Yeah,but he's Japanese.He ought to know some Japanese women."
Tak was playing pinball with a customer. I waved him over.
"Curtis wants to know why you don't have more Japanese women working here,"I said.
Tak gave Curtis a look.
"Curtis,if you buy one of them a drink,maybe I'll look for one."
"Tak,"Curtis said,"When I was stationed in Japan,the girls were always more friendly than the girls in Subic or Korea."
"I'll look for one then,"said Tak as he walked away.
One of the girls behind the bar came up to us and wanted one of us to buy her a drink. Curtis pretended he was on the moon.
"Sure Betty,"I said.
Betty went to the other end of the bar and came back with was probably a glass of orange juice.Curtis nudged my side.
"So how's the pain in the shoulder?"I asked Curtis.
"Still there. If my Hatfield would have sent me to a doctor,I would have been champ."
"I thought he sent you to a specialist?"
"That was one of his doctors. He didn't know nothing."
"You said it was your shoulder that gave you problems when you fought David Love."
"I could have beaten him if my shoulder would have been OK. I couldn't get my glove up in time."
"Love went on after that to have a pretty good career."
"Hatfield didn't know how to handle me. He wanted me to box too much. I was a puncher."
"Why didn't you look for someone else to take you over?"
"They were all the same. Hatfield was just like them .He didn't know how to move a fighter along the right way."
"I remember your last fight with Morales."
"I told Hatfield I wouldn't fight if Rustich was the referee,but he sent me out there anyway."
"Well I was glad you hung them up after that,"I said.
"I wanted to get away from Hatfield. Besides in that Morales fight Rustich gave me a fast count."
"Hell Curtis,Morales had you down five times."
"I couldn't get any rosin on my shoes."
Betty came over and asked for another drink. Curtis got up and said he had to go to the bathroom.
Fighters can up with some of the best excuses for things other than why they lost a fight. When my pal's father owned the Orient Bar on the corner of 4th and F streets in downtown San Diego there used to be one ex pug who would come around at night and pull him up a stool at the end of the bar by the door. His name was Curtis,a black dude,who fought on the under cards at the Coliseum. Curtis,like many of the fighters in San Diego,came out of the service. Curtis was ex Navy.
I remember watching Curtis a lot. He didn't have much of a fan base like Ken Norton who came out of the Marines in San Diego.Norton eventually became a very good heavyweight who ,in my opinion,had the best of Ali in all three of their fights. Maybe if Curtis was a Mexican he would of heard more cheers than cat whistles fighting those 6 rounders. Anyway he was in there.Sometimes he looked better than the time before,but you could tell he was always going to be a crowd chaser.
When Curtis would come into the Orient Bar,I'd always buy him a drink. He was a better conversationalist than he was a pugilist.
"Old man Tak ought to hire more Japanese girls in this place,"he said to me on night over a draft.
"There are more Philippino and Korean girls around that look for this kind of work,"I said.
"Yeah,but he's Japanese.He ought to know some Japanese women."
Tak was playing pinball with a customer. I waved him over.
"Curtis wants to know why you don't have more Japanese women working here,"I said.
Tak gave Curtis a look.
"Curtis,if you buy one of them a drink,maybe I'll look for one."
"Tak,"Curtis said,"When I was stationed in Japan,the girls were always more friendly than the girls in Subic or Korea."
"I'll look for one then,"said Tak as he walked away.
One of the girls behind the bar came up to us and wanted one of us to buy her a drink. Curtis pretended he was on the moon.
"Sure Betty,"I said.
Betty went to the other end of the bar and came back with was probably a glass of orange juice.Curtis nudged my side.
"So how's the pain in the shoulder?"I asked Curtis.
"Still there. If my Hatfield would have sent me to a doctor,I would have been champ."
"I thought he sent you to a specialist?"
"That was one of his doctors. He didn't know nothing."
"You said it was your shoulder that gave you problems when you fought David Love."
"I could have beaten him if my shoulder would have been OK. I couldn't get my glove up in time."
"Love went on after that to have a pretty good career."
"Hatfield didn't know how to handle me. He wanted me to box too much. I was a puncher."
"Why didn't you look for someone else to take you over?"
"They were all the same. Hatfield was just like them .He didn't know how to move a fighter along the right way."
"I remember your last fight with Morales."
"I told Hatfield I wouldn't fight if Rustich was the referee,but he sent me out there anyway."
"Well I was glad you hung them up after that,"I said.
"I wanted to get away from Hatfield. Besides in that Morales fight Rustich gave me a fast count."
"Hell Curtis,Morales had you down five times."
"I couldn't get any rosin on my shoes."
Betty came over and asked for another drink. Curtis got up and said he had to go to the bathroom.
Last edited by dagosd2000 on 03 May 2013, 15:55, edited 1 time in total.
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Art Aragon
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
We should pose a question to the CBHOF Vice President, if an accurate Honor roll will be a part of the 2013 Souvenir Journal? I realize that this year's Vice President is more of an on-line secretary, not addressed with anything related to promoting the event, but since he posts here, how about it Frank, are you and Don going to disrespect prior inductees by not showing an accurate "Honor Roll"? I know the entire group, complete. Do you? Are you going to blow over the posthumous candidates this year, as the CBHOF did last year at Don Fraser's orders?
We know Foreman won't show for this, but will his name be mentioned? Last year we inducted Joe Frazier, Patterson, Bobo Olson, Gavalin, etc. but not one of their names was mentiones as Don said, "Nobody will notice."The East coast saw this and said "NO MAS" with regard to West Coast sponsorship. This is the group you rep, I hope you are proud. Thankfully the higher standards of the East Coast will eliminate them as advertisers in your Journal. If you are gong to put on an event respectful to boxers, it should be so for all boxers, especially those who will be honored on this special day.
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Ducks On The Pond
I like to walk my dogs down the hill from my house along Mission Bay. The park along the bay's shore has a path . The bay early in the morning is very calm and peacefull. The only noise is of the different birds that live by the ocean.Later the tourists arrive with their motor boats and jet skis,but before 9 o'clock there is hardly anyone there except the people that take in the tranquility.
There's a small pond around one of the inlets of the shore. Every morning during the spring there are a dozen or so ducks that swim there. They are mated up.The colorful male is usually swimmng beside his wife as I like to call the female. She's not as colorful as the male. Brownish in color,but the pair are very devoted to each other. Ducks have mates for life.
I receognize one couple because I see them everyday swimming at the pool at our condo. I don't have names for them,but they are there every spring. They're raising a family somewhere near by. I think they know me too. When I see them at the bay they start quacking.When I see them swimming in the pool ,I join them for a swim. That's when I do my laps. I don't feel my arthritis when I'm swimming.
Now that the weather is warming,I'm starting to see more people at the pool. The other day a young couple saw me in the pool with the ducks.They stopped outside the fence.
"The ducks aren't afraid of you?" the young woman asked.
"No. The ducks are my friends. They've been coming here every spring for the last four years."
"That's great,"said the boyfriend.
"Yes,they are seem like a very devoted couple."
"It makes me happy that they like it here,"said the young woman.
"It makes me happy too,"said the boyfriend.
"I guess you can say if something makes you happy,you can't wish for anything more,"I said.
The young woman and the boyfriend smiled.
"Have a good rest of the day,"I said.
As they walked up the driveway past the rows of sunflowers they reached,without looking, for each other's hand .
I like to walk my dogs down the hill from my house along Mission Bay. The park along the bay's shore has a path . The bay early in the morning is very calm and peacefull. The only noise is of the different birds that live by the ocean.Later the tourists arrive with their motor boats and jet skis,but before 9 o'clock there is hardly anyone there except the people that take in the tranquility.
There's a small pond around one of the inlets of the shore. Every morning during the spring there are a dozen or so ducks that swim there. They are mated up.The colorful male is usually swimmng beside his wife as I like to call the female. She's not as colorful as the male. Brownish in color,but the pair are very devoted to each other. Ducks have mates for life.
I receognize one couple because I see them everyday swimming at the pool at our condo. I don't have names for them,but they are there every spring. They're raising a family somewhere near by. I think they know me too. When I see them at the bay they start quacking.When I see them swimming in the pool ,I join them for a swim. That's when I do my laps. I don't feel my arthritis when I'm swimming.
Now that the weather is warming,I'm starting to see more people at the pool. The other day a young couple saw me in the pool with the ducks.They stopped outside the fence.
"The ducks aren't afraid of you?" the young woman asked.
"No. The ducks are my friends. They've been coming here every spring for the last four years."
"That's great,"said the boyfriend.
"Yes,they are seem like a very devoted couple."
"It makes me happy that they like it here,"said the young woman.
"It makes me happy too,"said the boyfriend.
"I guess you can say if something makes you happy,you can't wish for anything more,"I said.
The young woman and the boyfriend smiled.
"Have a good rest of the day,"I said.
As they walked up the driveway past the rows of sunflowers they reached,without looking, for each other's hand .
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
In this case, I am the "dumb bastid" or "blind bastid"
Last edited by El Gallo on 05 May 2013, 14:29, edited 2 times in total.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
dagosd2000 wrote:
Art Aragon
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Take Me Out Of The Ball Game
Once a year I take my grandson Adam to a Padre baseball game. My sisters are season ticket holders and have nice seats on the field level just past the third base dugout.Yesterday me and Adam went the game to watch the Padres play Arizona.My Mexican wife couldn't understand why a team would call themselves the "Padres"which means fathers or priests in Spanish. I can't imagine yelling "Kill them Priests" at a game.Baseball is not the Inquisition.
San Diego fans are kind of like the Angel fans in Anahaim. They're easy going,well behaved, ,not prone to straining their vocal chords. They are nice and want other fans to be nice to them. It's like going to the game with the Nelson family:Ozzie,Harriet,Dave,and the irrepressible Ricky.
Now the other night I took Adam to the fights. It was his first time. Boxing fans in San Diego,and generally in most places,are not afraid to express themselves. If you're hard of hearing,you won't have a problem picking up noise in a boxing venue. But I will say this,80% of fight fans in San Diego are Mexican and to tell Mexicans to sit on their hands at a boxing match is like telling them they have to make tacos out of white bread. But being loud at the fights is apropos.Let's face it,in boxing the object of the game to hit the other guy in the head. Fighting is something most men won't do because they're hesitant unless you go to the fights. You'll see a lot a lot of guys there who aren't afraid to take a swing at you.
But back to Padre baseball games. Baseball is the American pastime. You take the family,eat hot dogs,hope the Padres win,and don't make too much noise because you don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. A nice place to cheer for the home team.But the only time the Padre fans make any real noise is when the the scoreboard flashes up "Make Noise" on the monitor. Then the fans make some noise.
Last night me and Adam went to the day game with Arizona. I've never been to a baseball game in Arizona,but I imagine it's like going to a game in San Diego. You sit next to Ward Cleaver and his family:June,Beaver and Wally.
Going to a Padre game is something you wouldn't go to after eating a heavy meal. I can't understand why people go to India to meditate when they can come to PetCo Park and sit like Siddhartha along the Ganges. But yeterday was different.At least in our section.
I don't know if this guy was from Arizona or San Diego or Mars.I couldn't figure who he was rooting for.San Diego,Arizona,or the Martians.He was a big guy with a major league gut wearing shorts and a white T shirt. He was about two rows in back of us. He stood up the whole game with a beer in his hand.
"Hey Kennedy,I'm glad I don't live in Arizona.It's hotter than crap out there,,"he yells."Damn good defense Padres.Play damn good defense."
The thing that made it weird was that he was yelling even when nothing was happening like between innings. You thought that any moment he was goiung to drop F bombs. Sometimes it sounded like he said it. You couldn't quite tell. I think the whole thing was a put on.
"Hey Padres,you play like friggin' losers. Good defense. Hey blue you're missin' the friggin' game. Hoffman do something at third base instead of grabbing your ass."
Ward Cleaver turned around.
"You can't say bad words in here or they'll ask you to leave."
"Man I'm with you,"beer gut replied."I'm really sorry."
Two seconds later.
"Hey Kennedy don't take no friggin' crap out there. Kick ass amigo,"he started screaming spilling beer on the row in front of him.
I don't condone this kind of behavior,but what made me laugh inside is that he was making his neighbors feel uneasy.Everytime beer gut would express his thoughts the Osmonds would squirm in their seats and look at each other."Why won't he stop?" was the expressions they had on their faces. Eventually they were afraid to try to correct him. The golden aged ushers who were there to protect us were meditating on the Ganges.They were afraid too.
Now if Mr. Nice had been sitting right in back of me or next to my grandson I would have tried my very best to calm him down. He was basically, I thought, a nice fella.Guys like that you can use psychology on. I've seen clowns like that many times before. Too bad the Lawrence Welk audience wasn't used to it and sat there frozen praying for a miracle.
"Hey Kenndy quit grabbing down there, There's women and children watching."
"Please,"said Ozzie Nelson,"can you sit down and lower your voice?"
"Hey man,"said beer gut apologetically,"I hear you all the way. I'm really sorry."
Two seconds later still standing with the beer.
"Hey blue. I can hear you fart from here."
The ushers must have been talking to Buddha by now. They didn't make a move except to talk to the Fox Channel news gal who was quite a fox.
The Padres had a big lead after seven. I promised my daughter I'd have him home in time so they could go to the movies to watch Iron Man . We got up at the stretch.
"Hey man,"said beer gut,"the game's not over. Kennedy is going to hit a batter in the head."
"Be sure to text me if he does,"I said laughing.
I almost offered to buy him another beer.
Once a year I take my grandson Adam to a Padre baseball game. My sisters are season ticket holders and have nice seats on the field level just past the third base dugout.Yesterday me and Adam went the game to watch the Padres play Arizona.My Mexican wife couldn't understand why a team would call themselves the "Padres"which means fathers or priests in Spanish. I can't imagine yelling "Kill them Priests" at a game.Baseball is not the Inquisition.
San Diego fans are kind of like the Angel fans in Anahaim. They're easy going,well behaved, ,not prone to straining their vocal chords. They are nice and want other fans to be nice to them. It's like going to the game with the Nelson family:Ozzie,Harriet,Dave,and the irrepressible Ricky.
Now the other night I took Adam to the fights. It was his first time. Boxing fans in San Diego,and generally in most places,are not afraid to express themselves. If you're hard of hearing,you won't have a problem picking up noise in a boxing venue. But I will say this,80% of fight fans in San Diego are Mexican and to tell Mexicans to sit on their hands at a boxing match is like telling them they have to make tacos out of white bread. But being loud at the fights is apropos.Let's face it,in boxing the object of the game to hit the other guy in the head. Fighting is something most men won't do because they're hesitant unless you go to the fights. You'll see a lot a lot of guys there who aren't afraid to take a swing at you.
But back to Padre baseball games. Baseball is the American pastime. You take the family,eat hot dogs,hope the Padres win,and don't make too much noise because you don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. A nice place to cheer for the home team.But the only time the Padre fans make any real noise is when the the scoreboard flashes up "Make Noise" on the monitor. Then the fans make some noise.
Last night me and Adam went to the day game with Arizona. I've never been to a baseball game in Arizona,but I imagine it's like going to a game in San Diego. You sit next to Ward Cleaver and his family:June,Beaver and Wally.
Going to a Padre game is something you wouldn't go to after eating a heavy meal. I can't understand why people go to India to meditate when they can come to PetCo Park and sit like Siddhartha along the Ganges. But yeterday was different.At least in our section.
I don't know if this guy was from Arizona or San Diego or Mars.I couldn't figure who he was rooting for.San Diego,Arizona,or the Martians.He was a big guy with a major league gut wearing shorts and a white T shirt. He was about two rows in back of us. He stood up the whole game with a beer in his hand.
"Hey Kennedy,I'm glad I don't live in Arizona.It's hotter than crap out there,,"he yells."Damn good defense Padres.Play damn good defense."
The thing that made it weird was that he was yelling even when nothing was happening like between innings. You thought that any moment he was goiung to drop F bombs. Sometimes it sounded like he said it. You couldn't quite tell. I think the whole thing was a put on.
"Hey Padres,you play like friggin' losers. Good defense. Hey blue you're missin' the friggin' game. Hoffman do something at third base instead of grabbing your ass."
Ward Cleaver turned around.
"You can't say bad words in here or they'll ask you to leave."
"Man I'm with you,"beer gut replied."I'm really sorry."
Two seconds later.
"Hey Kennedy don't take no friggin' crap out there. Kick ass amigo,"he started screaming spilling beer on the row in front of him.
I don't condone this kind of behavior,but what made me laugh inside is that he was making his neighbors feel uneasy.Everytime beer gut would express his thoughts the Osmonds would squirm in their seats and look at each other."Why won't he stop?" was the expressions they had on their faces. Eventually they were afraid to try to correct him. The golden aged ushers who were there to protect us were meditating on the Ganges.They were afraid too.
Now if Mr. Nice had been sitting right in back of me or next to my grandson I would have tried my very best to calm him down. He was basically, I thought, a nice fella.Guys like that you can use psychology on. I've seen clowns like that many times before. Too bad the Lawrence Welk audience wasn't used to it and sat there frozen praying for a miracle.
"Hey Kenndy quit grabbing down there, There's women and children watching."
"Please,"said Ozzie Nelson,"can you sit down and lower your voice?"
"Hey man,"said beer gut apologetically,"I hear you all the way. I'm really sorry."
Two seconds later still standing with the beer.
"Hey blue. I can hear you fart from here."
The ushers must have been talking to Buddha by now. They didn't make a move except to talk to the Fox Channel news gal who was quite a fox.
The Padres had a big lead after seven. I promised my daughter I'd have him home in time so they could go to the movies to watch Iron Man . We got up at the stretch.
"Hey man,"said beer gut,"the game's not over. Kennedy is going to hit a batter in the head."
"Be sure to text me if he does,"I said laughing.
I almost offered to buy him another beer.
Last edited by dagosd2000 on 07 May 2013, 14:40, edited 4 times in total.
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Jimmy Carter
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
dagosd2000 wrote:
Jimmy Carter
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight

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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Yesterday,Today,and Yesterday
When Bennie retired from the ring his next opponent was the bottle.Born in Mexicali,fighting as a bantam weight contender in the Southland,he was riding life pretty hard and fast in his day. But he was doing a lot of sparring with the hooch before his last fight when he was finally KO'd by Jim Beam. He never made much money fighting because that's all he was good at. His managers and promotors were good at stealing his money thoughThey made an art of it. When his money was gone,to add insult to injury,his wife left Bennie hanging on the ropes.
Bennie was popular though. No one wanted to see him starve. Around the gym, Burke would let him do things like clean up,run errands,and once in a while show some of the younger guys some of the finer points of pugilism. What little money Bennie made he spent at liquor stores or at the off track betting in Tijuana.He never had a car so he'd take the bus to the border and then ride a taxi to downtown. If he won you'd find him throwing his dough at the girls in the cantinas. After leaving those joints Bennie never worried about being rolled.
Burke would let Bennie live in the gym.Bennie would sweep the place and make sure the locker room was in order.Anything like a burned out light bulb or a plumbing problem was on his agenda.
One afternoon Burke opened up the gym and found Bennie on the floor. He'd had a heart attack. Burke got 911 in the phone and they rushed him to the hospital. It was touch and go for a while,but Benne pulled through. The docs told him if he didn't stop it with the booze they'd be counting ten over his body somewhere.
We all wanted him to dry out. We gave him pep talks,encouragement. Told him that we loved him which we did. After a time he started to come around. His eyes started to clear up and his skin wasn't that purplish color. Burke was even giving him more responsibilities.Bennie would deposit the money in the bank for Burke. Burke would let him drive his car to run to pick up equipment and supplies. It was nice and a relief to see Bennie on the wagon.
One day Burke picked up the mail.There was a letter for Bennie from his wife.Turns out she was going to marry some dude who was a realtor. He lived on a boat in the bay. She wanted to know if Bennie wanted to attend the ceremony. I knew Bennie enough that that kind of invitation was not going to go over with him.
Before opening up the gym on afternoon,Burke sent Bennie to the bank with the checks to deposit.He didn't come back.
"Roger,what do you think happened to Bennie?"Burke asked.
"I don't know."
"Did he tell you what was in that letter from his wife?"
"Yeah."
We both looked at each other. Burke got it out first.
"You better call the bar and see if he's over there."
I went to the pay phone outside and called Burke's bar,Champs.
"Yeah Burke,he's sitting at the end of the bar ",I said.
"Go and get him and bring him back."
"Anything you want me to say?"
"No,I'll think of something later."
When Bennie retired from the ring his next opponent was the bottle.Born in Mexicali,fighting as a bantam weight contender in the Southland,he was riding life pretty hard and fast in his day. But he was doing a lot of sparring with the hooch before his last fight when he was finally KO'd by Jim Beam. He never made much money fighting because that's all he was good at. His managers and promotors were good at stealing his money thoughThey made an art of it. When his money was gone,to add insult to injury,his wife left Bennie hanging on the ropes.
Bennie was popular though. No one wanted to see him starve. Around the gym, Burke would let him do things like clean up,run errands,and once in a while show some of the younger guys some of the finer points of pugilism. What little money Bennie made he spent at liquor stores or at the off track betting in Tijuana.He never had a car so he'd take the bus to the border and then ride a taxi to downtown. If he won you'd find him throwing his dough at the girls in the cantinas. After leaving those joints Bennie never worried about being rolled.
Burke would let Bennie live in the gym.Bennie would sweep the place and make sure the locker room was in order.Anything like a burned out light bulb or a plumbing problem was on his agenda.
One afternoon Burke opened up the gym and found Bennie on the floor. He'd had a heart attack. Burke got 911 in the phone and they rushed him to the hospital. It was touch and go for a while,but Benne pulled through. The docs told him if he didn't stop it with the booze they'd be counting ten over his body somewhere.
We all wanted him to dry out. We gave him pep talks,encouragement. Told him that we loved him which we did. After a time he started to come around. His eyes started to clear up and his skin wasn't that purplish color. Burke was even giving him more responsibilities.Bennie would deposit the money in the bank for Burke. Burke would let him drive his car to run to pick up equipment and supplies. It was nice and a relief to see Bennie on the wagon.
One day Burke picked up the mail.There was a letter for Bennie from his wife.Turns out she was going to marry some dude who was a realtor. He lived on a boat in the bay. She wanted to know if Bennie wanted to attend the ceremony. I knew Bennie enough that that kind of invitation was not going to go over with him.
Before opening up the gym on afternoon,Burke sent Bennie to the bank with the checks to deposit.He didn't come back.
"Roger,what do you think happened to Bennie?"Burke asked.
"I don't know."
"Did he tell you what was in that letter from his wife?"
"Yeah."
We both looked at each other. Burke got it out first.
"You better call the bar and see if he's over there."
I went to the pay phone outside and called Burke's bar,Champs.
"Yeah Burke,he's sitting at the end of the bar ",I said.
"Go and get him and bring him back."
"Anything you want me to say?"
"No,I'll think of something later."
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight

- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Bobby Chacon -today
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Be careful Frank ! Rick did all those things mentioned from last year. He enlarged the journal two-fold by selling more ads than anyone can imagine (at $500 a pop/thats not easy) and wanted to remember the past great fighters that were honored. 700 people in attendance-largest ever. Don forgot he was inducting the biggest names in Boxing too. No mention of any of them during the event. Be careful Frank, or 10 minutes after the event is over, you will be crap canned like Rick was-for no reason but trying to help out the organization for the better.


