Classic American West Coast Boxing

[dagosd2000]

Tossing The Ball Around

I was watching an old Leave It To Beaver the other day and there was Ward Cleaver in the back yard throwing the football around with "The Beave" and Wally, Wally asked his dad if Johnny Unitas was the greatest quarterback ever.Ward looked down his nose at the boys and with that patronizing Ward Cleaver face replied,"No boys,Sammy Baugh was the greatest."

That was the day when footballs looked a lot like cantaloupes. But Ward wasn't going to concede his era to the beginnings of the modern day pigskin game. No,Ward's generation played the game with leather helmets with no face masks. Men were men back then and I'm sure Mr. Cleaver wanted to get the point across to the boys that he was the equal of Bronko Nagurski.

Well to carry that idea further,are today's athletes wimpier than the old timers?Was Johnny Unitas tougher than Tom Brady, which I think in Ward Cleaver's opinion ,would make anyone who played in the past(at least when he was around)a better athlete and a more manly human being.

How about fighters?Go to the old timer forum and you'll get your give and take. There's no film of Harry Greb,but some people will swear that he was the greatest at his weight.No one is even alive today who saw Harry Greb fight and if there is he's probably in a nursing home eating oatmeal through his false teeth. But Harry was a tough guy.He fought in an era of no mouth guards,loaded gloves, and stepping inside a ring a twenty times a year.Marvin Hagler would have had to watch his ass.

Arguing this old school versus the participants of today always wears me out. One guy will post his evidence,it's then countered,a response,then perhaps an insult.Bring on the pissing contest. You have to see it my way.I'm smater than you. I must have the last word.What I have to say is engraved in stone.

No one cares.Everyone has their minds made up already. The hypothetical is all wind and smoke.What I contribute to Classic West Coast Boxing is just my slant on things. If you see it my way,fine.If not,that's fine too.Most people don't respond.They probably don't care.Sometimes I think of the more than 6 billion people who have never read what's going on with Boxrec.Even if you introduced them to the f0rum,I'd say 6 billion wouldn't be interested if Harry Greb could kick Marvin Hagler's butt,or the other way around..Just like Ward Cleaver being so damn sure that Sammy Baugh was a better quarterback than Johnny Unitas.Who cares?

By the way.My grandson asked me once who was the greatest quarterback of all time. I forget my answer,but I can tell you it wasn't Johnny Unitas.

[dagosd2000]

Primo Carnera

[scartissue]

Tossing The Ball Around

I was watching an old Leave It To Beaver the other day and there was Ward Cleaver in the back yard throwing the football around with "The Beave" and Wally, Wally asked his dad if Johnny Unitas was the greatest quarterback ever.Ward looked down his nose at the boys and with that patronizing Ward Cleaver face replied,"No boys,Sammy Baugh was the greatest."

That was the day when footballs looked a lot like cantaloupes. But Ward wasn't going to concede his era to the beginnings of the modern day pigskin game. No,Ward's generation played the game with leather helmets with no face masks. Men were men back then and I'm sure Mr. Cleaver wanted to get the point across to the boys that he was the equal of Bronko Nagurski.

Well to carry that idea further,are today's athletes wimpier than the old timers?Was Johnny Unitas tougher than Tom Brady, which I think in Ward Cleaver's opinion ,would make anyone who played in the past(at least when he was around)a better athlete and a more manly human being.

How about fighters?Go to the old timer forum and you'll get your give and take. There's no film of Harry Greb,but some people will swear that he was the greatest at his weight.No one is even alive today who saw Harry Greb fight and if there is he's probably in a nursing home eating oatmeal through his false teeth. But Harry was a tough guy.He fought in an era of no mouth guards,loaded gloves, and stepping inside a ring a twenty times a year.Marvin Hagler would have had to watch his ass.

Arguing this old school versus the participants of today always wears me out. One guy will post his evidence,it's then countered,a response,then perhaps an insult.Bring on the pissing contest. You have to see it my way.I'm smater than you. I must have the last word.What I have to say is engraved in stone.

No one cares.Everyone has their minds made up already. The hypothetical is all wind and smoke.What I contribute to Classic West Coast Boxing is just my slant on things. If you see it my way,fine.If not,that's fine too.Most people don't respond.They probably don't care.Sometimes I think of the more than 6 billion people who have never read what's going on with Boxrec.Even if you introduced them to the f0rum,I'd say 6 billion wouldn't be interested if Harry Greb could kick Marvin Hagler's butt,or the other way around..Just like Ward Cleaver being so damn sure that Sammy Baugh was a better quarterback than Johnny Unitas.Who cares?

By the way.My grandson asked me once who was the greatest quarterback of all time. I forget my answer,but I can tell you it wasn't Johnny Unitas.

Roger, man, I know exactly where you're coming from with this subject matter. People do have their mind made up already. I remember once getting into a 'discussion' with those claiming Jim Jeffries and Stanley Ketchel were the absolute greatest. And then I come along and posted a link to Jeffries bout with Gus Ruhlin and Ketchel's third bout with Billy Papke. For one, they wanted to string me up for besmirching their heroes and watching those clips was the absolute last thing they wanted to do because they had their minds made up. I'll sum up those bouts quickly for you. They were both woeful. Probably awe-inspiring back in the day, but ignorance is bliss when you haven't watched how the sport progressed (or regressed in some areas). I was engaged in a discussion over at ESB on a subject matter that would be close to your heart. The question posed was who would win at welterweight between Jose Napoles and Pernell Whitaker. Can you imagine what Napoles would do to him? Those involved did not want to hear my point that Whitaker was not a welter. He won a belt and defended against a bunch of little guys, but this was their hero. And like you said, their minds were already made up.

[dagosd2000]

Tossing The Ball Around

I was watching an old Leave It To Beaver the other day and there was Ward Cleaver in the back yard throwing the football around with "The Beave" and Wally, Wally asked his dad if Johnny Unitas was the greatest quarterback ever.Ward looked down his nose at the boys and with that patronizing Ward Cleaver face replied,"No boys,Sammy Baugh was the greatest."

That was the day when footballs looked a lot like cantaloupes. But Ward wasn't going to concede his era to the beginnings of the modern day pigskin game. No,Ward's generation played the game with leather helmets with no face masks. Men were men back then and I'm sure Mr. Cleaver wanted to get the point across to the boys that he was the equal of Bronko Nagurski.

Well to carry that idea further,are today's athletes wimpier than the old timers?Was Johnny Unitas tougher than Tom Brady, which I think in Ward Cleaver's opinion ,would make anyone who played in the past(at least when he was around)a better athlete and a more manly human being.

How about fighters?Go to the old timer forum and you'll get your give and take. There's no film of Harry Greb,but some people will swear that he was the greatest at his weight.No one is even alive today who saw Harry Greb fight and if there is he's probably in a nursing home eating oatmeal through his false teeth. But Harry was a tough guy.He fought in an era of no mouth guards,loaded gloves, and stepping inside a ring a twenty times a year.Marvin Hagler would have had to watch his ass.

Arguing this old school versus the participants of today always wears me out. One guy will post his evidence,it's then countered,a response,then perhaps an insult.Bring on the pissing contest. You have to see it my way.I'm smater than you. I must have the last word.What I have to say is engraved in stone.

No one cares.Everyone has their minds made up already. The hypothetical is all wind and smoke.What I contribute to Classic West Coast Boxing is just my slant on things. If you see it my way,fine.If not,that's fine too.Most people don't respond.They probably don't care.Sometimes I think of the more than 6 billion people who have never read what's going on with Boxrec.Even if you introduced them to the f0rum,I'd say 6 billion wouldn't be interested if Harry Greb could kick Marvin Hagler's butt,or the other way around..Just like Ward Cleaver being so damn sure that Sammy Baugh was a better quarterback than Johnny Unitas.Who cares?

By the way.My grandson asked me once who was the greatest quarterback of all time. I forget my answer,but I can tell you it wasn't Johnny Unitas.

Roger, man, I know exactly where you're coming from with this subject matter. People do have their mind made up already. I remember once getting into a 'discussion' with those claiming Jim Jeffries and Stanley Ketchel were the absolute greatest. And then I come along and posted a link to Jeffries bout with Gus Ruhlin and Ketchel's third bout with Billy Papke. For one, they wanted to string me up for besmirching their heroes and watching those clips was the absolute last thing they wanted to do because they had their minds made up. I'll sum up those bouts quickly for you. They were both woeful. Probably awe-inspiring back in the day, but ignorance is bliss when you haven't watched how the sport progressed (or regressed in some areas). I was engaged in a discussion over at ESB on a subject matter that would be close to your heart. The question posed was who would win at welterweight between Jose Napoles and Pernell Whitaker. Can you imagine what Napoles would do to him? Those involved did not want to hear my point that Whitaker was not a welter. He won a belt and defended against a bunch of little guys, but this was their hero. And like you said, their minds were already made up.

Dan,I was following a current thread on Boxrec about who would win,Napoles or Leonard? The arguments that Klompton makes are sounder than the pro Napoles backers.And you know I think the world of Mantequilla.But we'll never know who would win because it's all conjecture. I remember when Roy Jones beat Toney.That wasn't supposed to happen.They were very good fighters.Napoles and Leonard.Two very good fighters also.Who knows? You can argue till you're blue in the face. Imagine if I'd have picked Douglas to beat Tyson and posted it on some forum?The real losers are the obsessive sorts that want to convince the world that they KNOW for sure who'd win one of these hypothetical matches.I thought Napoles would beat Monzon.Boy did I get that one wrong. It wouldn't be worth my time to get on that Napoles versus Leonard thread and give my two cents worth. I'd just as well dream of banging Miss Universe.

[dagosd2000]

Respect...Just A Little Bit

After I'd get off work teaching at the school for the severely handicapped kids in National City,I'd sometimes drop by Archie Moore's" Any Boy Can Club" and lend the ol' champ a hand with the youngsters. I've written down before on the thread, if you want to reach back, to see what I had to say. I know I'm beginning to repeat myself a bit nowadays. I rearrange stuff I've said before and repackage it into another story.Sorry,but the well is running dry.

But getting back to Archie Moore.While I was in his aura,I never heard him say anything on the positive end about Muhammad Ali.In fact he never said anything about him. We know how Ali's group first put the then Olympic champ Cassius Clay together with Moore.They figured if anyone knew something about boxing it was a guy who still holds the record for KO's.We also know that that little venture turned up a cropper. Cassius never did chores around the house let alone being told to sweep the floor at Moore's camp in Ramona,California outside of San Diego.Shortly after the departure Clay crumbled the old fighter into retirement standing over him arms in the air and legs prancing in Los Angeles. The salt in Archie's wound was Cassius's accurate prediction(including the usual chiding poetry)of calling the round.Moore never forgave him, nor bought into that it was all just an act.If Joe Louis would have knocked Archie stiff there wouldn't have been any celebrating. I guess it's easy for me to say that.

Archie put on George Foreman's robe after Ali performed a similar humiliation on the big guy in Zaire.When Muhammad fought ,Arch was always in the other guy's corner. But in time big George awoke to see that Ali was more than a fighter in the ring.He was a spirit,a messenger, that swept along with the tide of a changing world that was reassessing the old world order.Archie Moore was still in that old world and wasn't budging.

I was always a bit star struck being in the Mongoose's presence.I didn't dare bring up Cassius Clay or Muhammad Ali around the old champ. Archie was old school.Still in a classroom that worked on with the golden rule. Respect was a cornerstone.I remember all the rules Archie had posted on the walls of the Any Boy Can.They all were related to respect.Nothing wrong with that. The thing is though, when you dealt with Ali,his schtick didn't include the reciprocal end of it.


Archie Moore

[dagosd2000]

17 To 12

I read this morning that yesterday's NHL All Star Game resulted in a 17 to 12 result. I didn't want to read any further about what side won because after seeing that score I don't think either side was trying too hard. The Pro Bowl was also played yesterday.I didn't catch the final numbers because when I saw a photo of two players from the Packers (who were on opposite sides)celebrating a score,I lost interest in reading on. To think people pay money to watch this stuff.Pros who don't give a damn during a game.And these fellows are picked because they are the best. I blame it all on the fans.I may or may not watch the Super Bowl next week.I'm thinking if New England and Seattle hadn't have reached the finals, would some of those players been in that Pro Bowl farce not giving a sh#t?

Getting to boxing,I often wonder about those no decision bouts back in the day. For example some states just had matches that they termed "exhibitions" ,mostly 4 and 6 round affairs.The newspapers would tell you who won the next morning,but if the manager who provided the biggest bribe could get the script written in his boy's favor.

I remember reading something about the old pug Philadelphia Jack O'Brian who commented about his career. It was something like just about all his fights weren't on the up and up. He got his moniker because his hometown was Philly,a city were fights were just "exhibitions."Nothing like paying your hard earned dough on something that has already been predetermined.

But sports have always been surrounded by the gambling types. Football and baseball have shooed away the seedy.Basketball and hockey are also tough to manipulate because so many players are on a team.If you get your tit in a ringer with shady games,it's banishment and no Hall of Fame. Boxing?It's a lot easier.Every state has a commission.It's mano a mano in the ring. There are still some promoters and managers that wouldn't get the "Good 'A' Seal of Approval."The let's not forget the referees and judges. Their visions are sometime seeing "green" more than finding accuracy. You've heard of the promoter's referee.

So if Philadelphia Jack O'Brian says that his hundred or so fights in the City of Brotherly Love had a peculiar odor about them,how does he get inducted into the IBHOF? LaMotta goes into the tank against Billy Fox.Then there's Lulu Perez luluing Pep in a big upset. Gans collapasing against Terrible Terry in Chi town. Fights were reported on the back page of the sports columns in Chicago after that.But those boys I mentioned are Hall of Famers. The list of the fights on queer street can go on forever,but the fighters I typed into the computer were great combatants non the less. Legends in their own times.

Loaded gloves,fixed fights,17 to 12 scores,both sides celebrating a touchdown.Too bad Felinni was never a sports fan. If he was so enthralled with circuses,he could see plenty of clowns by going to the game.


Philadelphia Jack O'Brian

[dagosd2000]

Out Of Sight,Out Of Mind

I saw on ESPN that if you want to buy a ticket for tomorrow's Super Bowl game,you're going to have to cough up a minimum of 10 grand.If the scalpers are putting that number on the table,they probably know someone will shell out the dough to grab a ducat.The out of towners that are holed up in the Phoenix area awaiting the kickoff must be anxious for the game to begin.I mean Phoenix is in the middle of the desert,not near anything particularly of interest or anything wet.It's like being in the middle of nowhere.For the life of me I can't understand why anybody would live there.During the summer it's a hundred degrees or more for a couple of months.Then in September it cools off down into the high 80's and low 90's.I asked someone who lived there if there was any large body of water near by so I could jump in and cool off.The reply was that everyone had a swimming pool.I guess that was his way of telling me to go jump in the lake, only I wished there was one around so I could literally take him up on it.

The Super Bowl is too much super hype. Sometimes they focus on the things that are ,to me,unimportant. Under inflated footballs and players who don't want to talk to the media.They wait two weeks after the last post season game to finally get on to playing the last game. The Pro Bowl used to be "played"after the Super Bowl,but that game was just as big a let down as playing no game at all.

Just before I got on my computer to write this,I saw that the astronauts in outer space are going to watch the game in their space capsule. I didn't even know there were any spacemen flying around out there, I guess I don't spend enough time watching the real news.But I take that back.I watch the various news channels.I try to stay informed. Plenty of talk about who is going to run and not going to run for president,the latest terrorist group that is emerging and trying to take over from the wimpier terrorist groups,how the cops are either justified to lock and load or they should keep their guns in their holsters,and of course the latest Hollywood stuff like Bruce Jenner wanting to be a girl.I guess being confined in a space ship doing scientific research is presumed boring for the public.No more boring than the Super Bowl as far as I'm concerned.But the media should at least be fair about this. They asked every Tom ,Dick,and Harriet about who is going to win.I haven't heard any predictions for any astronaut. If you're a million miles away from the planet who the hell cares?

[dagosd2000]

Kid Norfolk

[dagosd2000]

Last Years Bird Nest

Champs Lounge is one of those joints that's a dying breed near the beach.The younger crowd prefers to go to the trendier newer spots with the flat screens strewn along the walls and the girls behind the bar with the cleavage separating their boobs enhanced by their push up bras. Hard to tell if their tits are that big or not.

Champs has two TV's and the old gal that tends bar there during the day is just that...an old gal,but pretty nice. She knows how to mix a drink and she looks like she's sampled all of them at one time or another. She can talk sports and swear with any longshoreman and makes sure she takes her break out front enjoying a smoke.I walked inside and took a stool just as her shift was ending. She was going to turn things over to Ed who I've known for a long time.He was Burke Emery's night man,but since Burke is in the home now Ed alternates with the good 'ol gal.I'll be damned if I can't remember her name.Ed grabbed a coaster and drew me a draft. No guess work with me.As the old gal was counting her drawer I asked Ed about the Super Bowl game.

"How was business yesterday?"I asked him knowing what the response would be.
"We were real busy. The Super Bowl is always our biggest day. Even tops New Years Eve,"he answered."Did you watch it?"
"No .I wasn't up for it."
"It was a real good game. Went all the way down to the end."
"I read about it.I guess there was some questioning about the coach's call down at the goal line."
"Yeah,he should have called a run. Give it to that big back Lynch."
"Well I guess Carroll will have all year to think about that,"I said.
"That's all everyone is talking about today."
"That and all that other crap. I saw a story about how Brady was thinking about his family.Inside his locker was pictures of his kids.Really tugs at your heart strings."
"I wonder how many Seahawks players had pictures of their kids in their lockers?"
"I won't turn on the sports for awhile until the pandemonium dies down."
"It should be all gone in a few days,"said Ed picking up the remote control.
"I see that this Mayweather is saying the fight isn't going to happen again",I said wanting to shift gears away from the Super Bowl.
"The biggest story in boxing is about a fight that ain't gonna' happen,"said Ed.
"Remember when it was that if you don't fight in the U.S.,especially a place like the Garden,you couldn't make it as a fighter?"
"Or having an American heavyweight champion."
"I can't even pronounce these heavyweights names anymore."
"Maybe that's why they fight in Hamburg.You how those Europeans are.They all speak four or five different languages," said Ed as he flicked on the remote.

[dagosd2000]

Joe Louis

[dagosd2000]

Epoca De Oro

I worked with a woman whose uncle was Joe Conde.The featherweight Joe Conde who fought for more than 20 years during the late 20's thru the early 1940's. He went round and round with the likes of Henry Armstrong,Baby Casanova,and Juan Zurita. He beat them and they in turn beat Joe Conde. The woman ,whose uncle was uncle Joe, was one of the secretaries at my school.She reminisced about her uncle who lived life to the fullest,doing what ever he felt like doing at the time. Living in the moment with no afterthought of maybe "I shouldn't have done that."A man who could do whatever he felt like because he is a man and he knows the Latina knows essentially a man,however macho he might think he is,is still a little boy.When puberty arrives,he thinks with his d--k and may be guilty of sinning,but that's the way God set it up in the beginning anyway.Adam never had a chance.So when this woman would go on about her uncle Joe ,she'd have that grin of having just swallowing the canary.

It must have been a whirlwind back then in Mexico. I grew up with the Olivareses and Zarates.All those great Mexican champions of the 60's and 70's would have been a perfect fit during Mexico's "Golden Age."It was precursor for the Mexican fighters that have been written about on this thread. All the tank towns in California and below the border would one time or another have a Napoles or a Chavez step into their rings to give em' their pesos worth.

But I lament today. There's no more semblance of a Golden Age or any post period of arenas packed to the doors with crazy fans watching the torrent of Mexican fighters who were fighting ,not only to be the champ,but trying to survive through the legions of their compatriots who would eat up the other guy if he had lost his hunger pangs. The footprints have faded. The Canelos and the son of Chavez are living with full stomachs. Chavez junior hasn't fought in a year. Canelo looks indifferent since losing to Mayweather.(He better watch his ass against Kirkland). J.M. Marquez is very long in the "diente". His brother shot his load against Vasquez. Both are retired.Margarito was exposed and Erik Morales trains fighters. Feet of clay don't leave lasting footprints. Few Mexican fighters are stepping out much anymore.

To think that Mexican fighters' names aren't strewn up and down the ranks of the lighter weight divisions has created that empty feeling within me. I'm hungry for that young lion like a Battling Torres or a "Pajarito" Moreno to surge up to the top in front the aficianados screaming and yelling for them to honor a country that is riddled with holes,and even if they fail to capture a title,there's always more like them that are chomping at the bit. There was a time when I'd never thought the well would run dry or the appetites would be sated.

Today,I'm tired of waiting for it to happen again.I'm getting old.If I hold my breath for the next insurgence,I might just fall over dead.
http://youtu.be/q4GWyOCbhMM

Las Golondrinas De Los Ojos Negros-Pedro Infante




Kid Azteca

[dagosd2000]

No Contest

In my quest last year to find Jose Napoles in Ciudad Juarez,I first encountered "his" gym. An old concrete structure with the word "Roma" painted high near the roof. Below the word "Roma" was the words (translated from Spanish)steam baths,beauty parlor,and gymnasium. There was no mention of Jose Napoles.At the desk at the front on the concrete floor facing the unpainted concrete walls sat a girl with her black hair worn straight down her back. The wood desk was nicked up and needed a paint job.The girl looked like she had nothing to do.I was with the cab driver who brought me to the "Roma".I thought that I had found who I was looking for finally,Jose Napoles.I asked the girl if Napoles was around.
"No,he hasn't been here for quite some time,"she answered very nonchalantly.
There was a scruffy looking bent over man mopping the floor in the hallway behind the foyer where the girl at the desk was.With him was a younger kid.I'd say the kid was in his late teens.They both walked up to the girl at the desk.The cab driver waited at the doorway.
"Can I at least see the gym?"I asked again thinking that my travel might be an effort in futility.
""No,"replied the girl looking at the poster of Jose Napoles on the wall across from her."Only the landlord has the key and he won't be here today."
I turned to the cab driver.He showed no expression.
"Well do you know where he lives?"again trying.
The young man said something to the old scruffy bent over man,then looked at me.
"Manteqilla used to live around the corner,"said the younger man.
I asked the cab driver if he could drive me down the street around the corner from the "Roma."Without hesitating we got in his cab.We saw two working under the hood of a car and asked if they knew where we could find Jose Napoles.One of the men popped his head up from the hood.
"Manteca?Oh he used to lived at that house on the corner.We'd see him walk around all the time soking a cigar,but I haven't seen him lately."
The other man emerged his head from under the hood.
"He doesn't live there anymore,"he said impassively.
After that disheartening news we returned to the gym.The was a young boy there who had arrived on a bicycle.He was talking to the girl at the desk.The girl turned to me and smiled.
"This boy lives near Mantequilla Napoles,"she said.
I asked the boy to tell the cab driver how to get to his house. The boy gave the cab driver directions. I gave the boy a couple of bucks. We got back in the cab again and drove sround a corner to a main street named "Costa Rica Boulevard"The driver stopped the cab at a corner and got out and talked to an old lady. The driver rushed back in and turned onto a little side street. There in front of a modest house was Jose Napoles sitting in a chair smoking a cigar.

Back a few pages in the thread I wrote down our conversation. But what I was thinking about much later on was how a great champion like Napoles was unsuccessful with "his" gym. He told me that there was very little interest.The guys that thought they could be fighters didn't want to fight hard enough to put in the effort. They'd show uo for awhile and then never come back.That's why the padlock was on the door.

Just think. A young man languishing around in a desperate place like Ciudad Juarez. An opportunity to maybe get out from under it by becoming a fighter. He can go to a gym run by one of the greatest boxers of all time. A fighter who was in command .As smart a boy as there ever was.What fighter wouldn't want to trained by Jose Napoles?

Now the old champ sits outside his house smoking cigars and waving to anyone who passes by. He couldn't go back to training fighters anyway. The fighter's dementia has got him on the ropes.I can't imagine Ciudad Juarez being anything close to Tijuana as being a Mecca for prospective pugilists of the Eagle and the Serpent.

If anyone says they want to make a living training fighters,ask them if they've been smoking something funny.Trying to make a living training fighters is just about has tough as making a living as a fighter. When I was talking to Jose Napoles he kept chomping on his Cuban puro. I know it was a cigar.I used to smoke that other stuff.All it ever did for me is make me dream.

[scartissue]

No Contest

In my quest last year to find Jose Napoles in Ciudad Juarez,I first encountered "his" gym. An old concrete structure with the word "Roma" painted high near the roof. Below the word "Roma" was the words (translated from Spanish)steam baths,beauty parlor,and gymnasium. There was no mention of Jose Napoles.At the desk at the front on the concrete floor facing the unpainted concrete walls sat a girl with her black hair worn straight down her back. The wood desk was nicked up and needed a paint job.The girl looked like she had nothing to do.I was with the cab driver who brought me to the "Roma".I thought that I had found who I was looking for finally,Jose Napoles.I asked the girl if Napoles was around.
"No,he hasn't been here for quite some time,"she answered very nonchalantly.
There was a scruffy looking bent over man mopping the floor in the hallway behind the foyer where the girl at the desk was.With him was a younger kid.I'd say the kid was in his late teens.They both walked up to the girl at the desk.The cab driver waited at the doorway.
"Can I at least see the gym?"I asked again thinking that my travel might be an effort in futility.
""No,"replied the girl looking at the poster of Jose Napoles on the wall across from her."Only the landlord has the key and he won't be here today."
I turned to the cab driver.He showed no expression.
"Well do you know where he lives?"again trying.
The young man said something to the old scruffy bent over man,then looked at me.
"Manteqilla used to live around the corner,"said the younger man.
I asked the cab driver if he could drive me down the street around the corner from the "Roma."Without hesitating we got in his cab.We saw two working under the hood of a car and asked if they knew where we could find Jose Napoles.One of the men popped his head up from the hood.
"Manteca?Oh he used to lived at that house on the corner.We'd see him walk around all the time soking a cigar,but I haven't seen him lately."
The other man emerged his head from under the hood.
"He doesn't live there anymore,"he said impassively.
After that disheartening news we returned to the gym.The was a young boy there who had arrived on a bicycle.He was talking to the girl at the desk.The girl turned to me and smiled.
"This boy lives near Mantequilla Napoles,"she said.
I asked the boy to tell the cab driver how to get to his house. The boy gave the cab driver directions. I gave the boy a couple of bucks. We got back in the cab again and drove sround a corner to a main street named "Costa Rica Boulevard"The driver stopped the cab at a corner and got out and talked to an old lady. The driver rushed back in and turned onto a little side street. There in front of a modest house was Jose Napoles sitting in a chair smoking a cigar.

Back a few pages in the thread I wrote down our conversation. But what I was thinking about much later on was how a great champion like Napoles was unsuccessful with "his" gym. He told me that there was very little interest.The guys that thought they could be fighters didn't want to fight hard enough to put in the effort. They'd show uo for awhile and then never come back.That's why the padlock was on the door.

Just think. A young man languishing around in a desperate place like Ciudad Juarez. An opportunity to maybe get out from under it by becoming a fighter. He can go to a gym run by one of the greatest boxers of all time. A fighter who was in command .As smart a boy as there ever was.What fighter wouldn't want to trained by Jose Napoles?

Now the old champ sits outside his house smoking cigars and waving to anyone who passes by. He couldn't go back to training fighters anyway. The fighter's dementia has got him on the ropes.I can't imagine Ciudad Juarez being anything close to Tijuana as being a Mecca for prospective pugilists of the Eagle and the Serpent.

If anyone says they want to make a living training fighters,ask them if they've been smoking something funny.Trying to make a living training fighters is just about has tough as making a living as a fighter. When I was talking to Jose Napoles he kept chomping on his Cuban puro. I know it was a cigar.I used to smoke that other stuff.All it ever did for me is make me dream.

Total class, Rog. I know he's your favorite fighter, so I don't know if you've seen this piece before. Found it on youtube. It's not your usual clips. It's lengthy with full round highlights. There are fights I've never seen before such as Manny Gonzalez, Jean Josselin, the knockdown of Emile Griffith (which was a beaut), the Curtis Cokes rematch. There are also full round highlights of Ernie Lopez I, both Muniz fights and so on. Man, I watched the whole thing last night and like you, I was dreamin'.

http://youtu.be/dwWVHUPvIIs

[dagosd2000]

No Contest

In my quest last year to find Jose Napoles in Ciudad Juarez,I first encountered "his" gym. An old concrete structure with the word "Roma" painted high near the roof. Below the word "Roma" was the words (translated from Spanish)steam baths,beauty parlor,and gymnasium. There was no mention of Jose Napoles.At the desk at the front on the concrete floor facing the unpainted concrete walls sat a girl with her black hair worn straight down her back. The wood desk was nicked up and needed a paint job.The girl looked like she had nothing to do.I was with the cab driver who brought me to the "Roma".I thought that I had found who I was looking for finally,Jose Napoles.I asked the girl if Napoles was around.
"No,he hasn't been here for quite some time,"she answered very nonchalantly.
There was a scruffy looking bent over man mopping the floor in the hallway behind the foyer where the girl at the desk was.With him was a younger kid.I'd say the kid was in his late teens.They both walked up to the girl at the desk.The cab driver waited at the doorway.
"Can I at least see the gym?"I asked again thinking that my travel might be an effort in futility.
""No,"replied the girl looking at the poster of Jose Napoles on the wall across from her."Only the landlord has the key and he won't be here today."
I turned to the cab driver.He showed no expression.
"Well do you know where he lives?"again trying.
The young man said something to the old scruffy bent over man,then looked at me.
"Manteqilla used to live around the corner,"said the younger man.
I asked the cab driver if he could drive me down the street around the corner from the "Roma."Without hesitating we got in his cab.We saw two working under the hood of a car and asked if they knew where we could find Jose Napoles.One of the men popped his head up from the hood.
"Manteca?Oh he used to lived at that house on the corner.We'd see him walk around all the time soking a cigar,but I haven't seen him lately."
The other man emerged his head from under the hood.
"He doesn't live there anymore,"he said impassively.
After that disheartening news we returned to the gym.The was a young boy there who had arrived on a bicycle.He was talking to the girl at the desk.The girl turned to me and smiled.
"This boy lives near Mantequilla Napoles,"she said.
I asked the boy to tell the cab driver how to get to his house. The boy gave the cab driver directions. I gave the boy a couple of bucks. We got back in the cab again and drove sround a corner to a main street named "Costa Rica Boulevard"The driver stopped the cab at a corner and got out and talked to an old lady. The driver rushed back in and turned onto a little side street. There in front of a modest house was Jose Napoles sitting in a chair smoking a cigar.

Back a few pages in the thread I wrote down our conversation. But what I was thinking about much later on was how a great champion like Napoles was unsuccessful with "his" gym. He told me that there was very little interest.The guys that thought they could be fighters didn't want to fight hard enough to put in the effort. They'd show uo for awhile and then never come back.That's why the padlock was on the door.

Just think. A young man languishing around in a desperate place like Ciudad Juarez. An opportunity to maybe get out from under it by becoming a fighter. He can go to a gym run by one of the greatest boxers of all time. A fighter who was in command .As smart a boy as there ever was.What fighter wouldn't want to trained by Jose Napoles?

Now the old champ sits outside his house smoking cigars and waving to anyone who passes by. He couldn't go back to training fighters anyway. The fighter's dementia has got him on the ropes.I can't imagine Ciudad Juarez being anything close to Tijuana as being a Mecca for prospective pugilists of the Eagle and the Serpent.

If anyone says they want to make a living training fighters,ask them if they've been smoking something funny.Trying to make a living training fighters is just about has tough as making a living as a fighter. When I was talking to Jose Napoles he kept chomping on his Cuban puro. I know it was a cigar.I used to smoke that other stuff.All it ever did for me is make me dream.

Total class, Rog. I know he's your favorite fighter, so I don't know if you've seen this piece before. Found it on youtube. It's not your usual clips. It's lengthy with full round highlights. There are fights I've never seen before such as Manny Gonzalez, Jean Josselin, the knockdown of Emile Griffith (which was a beaut), the Curtis Cokes rematch. There are also full round highlights of Ernie Lopez I, both Muniz fights and so on. Man, I watched the whole thing last night and like you, I was dreamin'.

http://youtu.be/dwWVHUPvIIs

I've never seen this compilation. Have just about everything on tape of him including the Manny Gonzalez fight. Thanks. BTW How did this broad get substituted for my pic of Napoles smoking a cigar in front of his house?

[dagosd2000]

No Contest

In my quest last year to find Jose Napoles in Ciudad Juarez,I first encountered "his" gym. An old concrete structure with the word "Roma" painted high near the roof. Below the word "Roma" was the words (translated from Spanish)steam baths,beauty parlor,and gymnasium. There was no mention of Jose Napoles.At the desk at the front on the concrete floor facing the unpainted concrete walls sat a girl with her black hair worn straight down her back. The wood desk was nicked up and needed a paint job.The girl looked like she had nothing to do.I was with the cab driver who brought me to the "Roma".I thought that I had found who I was looking for finally,Jose Napoles.I asked the girl if Napoles was around.
"No,he hasn't been here for quite some time,"she answered very nonchalantly.
There was a scruffy looking bent over man mopping the floor in the hallway behind the foyer where the girl at the desk was.With him was a younger kid.I'd say the kid was in his late teens.They both walked up to the girl at the desk.The cab driver waited at the doorway.
"Can I at least see the gym?"I asked again thinking that my travel might be an effort in futility.
""No,"replied the girl looking at the poster of Jose Napoles on the wall across from her."Only the landlord has the key and he won't be here today."
I turned to the cab driver.He showed no expression.
"Well do you know where he lives?"again trying.
The young man said something to the old scruffy bent over man,then looked at me.
"Manteqilla used to live around the corner,"said the younger man.
I asked the cab driver if he could drive me down the street around the corner from the "Roma."Without hesitating we got in his cab.We saw two working under the hood of a car and asked if they knew where we could find Jose Napoles.One of the men popped his head up from the hood.
"Manteca?Oh he used to lived at that house on the corner.We'd see him walk around all the time soking a cigar,but I haven't seen him lately."
The other man emerged his head from under the hood.
"He doesn't live there anymore,"he said impassively.
After that disheartening news we returned to the gym.The was a young boy there who had arrived on a bicycle.He was talking to the girl at the desk.The girl turned to me and smiled.
"This boy lives near Mantequilla Napoles,"she said.
I asked the boy to tell the cab driver how to get to his house. The boy gave the cab driver directions. I gave the boy a couple of bucks. We got back in the cab again and drove sround a corner to a main street named "Costa Rica Boulevard"The driver stopped the cab at a corner and got out and talked to an old lady. The driver rushed back in and turned onto a little side street. There in front of a modest house was Jose Napoles sitting in a chair smoking a cigar.

Back a few pages in the thread I wrote down our conversation. But what I was thinking about much later on was how a great champion like Napoles was unsuccessful with "his" gym. He told me that there was very little interest.The guys that thought they could be fighters didn't want to fight hard enough to put in the effort. They'd show uo for awhile and then never come back.That's why the padlock was on the door.

Just think. A young man languishing around in a desperate place like Ciudad Juarez. An opportunity to maybe get out from under it by becoming a fighter. He can go to a gym run by one of the greatest boxers of all time. A fighter who was in command .As smart a boy as there ever was.What fighter wouldn't want to trained by Jose Napoles?

Now the old champ sits outside his house smoking cigars and waving to anyone who passes by. He couldn't go back to training fighters anyway. The fighter's dementia has got him on the ropes.I can't imagine Ciudad Juarez being anything close to Tijuana as being a Mecca for prospective pugilists of the Eagle and the Serpent.

If anyone says they want to make a living training fighters,ask them if they've been smoking something funny.Trying to make a living training fighters is just about has tough as making a living as a fighter. When I was talking to Jose Napoles he kept chomping on his Cuban puro. I know it was a cigar.I used to smoke that other stuff.All it ever did for me is make me dream.

Total class, Rog. I know he's your favorite fighter, so I don't know if you've seen this piece before. Found it on youtube. It's not your usual clips. It's lengthy with full round highlights. There are fights I've never seen before such as Manny Gonzalez, Jean Josselin, the knockdown of Emile Griffith (which was a beaut), the Curtis Cokes rematch. There are also full round highlights of Ernie Lopez I, both Muniz fights and so on. Man, I watched the whole thing last night and like you, I was dreamin'.

http://youtu.be/dwWVHUPvIIs

I've never seen this compilation. Have just about everything on tape of him including the Manny Gonzalez fight. Thanks. BTW How did this broad get substituted for my pic of Napoles smoking a cigar in front of his house?

The footage of Griffith is something I've never seen before. I have a very grainy b&w print that is very poor quality. Also the Pruitt segment is a first for me. My copy has no sound and the footage was filmed by someone sitting down at ringside. Dan,thanks again for putting this up. Hard to watch the Stracey fight. After Napoles's two fights with Mando Muniz,he was shot.Napoles was really a lightweight or a junior welter. He could make welter with his clothes on. Luis Rodriguez,his compatriate,was a normal welter,but stepped up a division.He,like Basilio, had problems at middle with "big" middle weights.Paret,another Cuban, was really a lightweight.Sugar Ramos was a true feather,but he also went up a division.

When I visited Napoles last year,I took a good look at the scar tissue around his eyes.All I could think of was what he would of accomplished if his skin hadn't have come apart so easily.Even the great ones I'm sure look back on their careers and think about how they would have done things differently.

BTW.I see someone removed that hot little number that was up there before. I mean she was real nice on the eyes,but I don't think she could fight worth a damn.

[dagosd2000]

I've Been Away For Awhile

My granddaughter's husband plays on this basketball team in Tijuana.You see my granddaughter and her husband and my great granddaughter live in Tijuana like a lot of people who cross into the U.S. everday.My granddaughter and her husband work on the U.S. side and my great granddaughter goes to school here. But I go to watch my granddaughter's husband play basketball when the mood hits me. The auditorium where the basketball games are played is in Colonia Libertad that's just beyond the fence east of the border . I crossed into Mexico early so I could avoid the traffic from San Diego.There are thousands of people that live in TJ,some Americans also,that work on the U.S. side,but find it more affordable to live in Tijuana. So the traffic beginning around 3 pm,,when the shipyards let out,begins to back up on the 5 south.

So I got to TJ a little early. I parked in what many people still refer to as the Woolworth Parking Lot, between 2nd and 3rd Street on Revolution Avenue , even though the Woolworth store closed years ago. Now the building nest to the parking lot is a super Mercado called Soriana,but locals still refer to the parking lot using the Woolworth name.I parked the car and started to walk around. I made up my mind to walk down the street to the Coahuila,the red light district. Sometimes that area is called the Zona Norte because that's the name of the colonia the red light district is located in,but everyone knows it by the name Coahuila.That's because Coahuila Street runs east west through the area. The Coahuila butts along the border fence with all the razor wire and cameras,spreads north several blocks to !st Street and finally runs out of bars after going west past Constitution Boulevard.So I'd guess it's around nine square blocks more or less.

I hadn't frequented the Coahuila in awhile,but I sometimes think of all the dough I spent on booze and broads in that place and I could be driving around in a new Mercedes.But I sure had fun then.But why did I stop going then?Simple.I was wasn't having that much fun anymore.I was getting bored with booze and broads. It wasn't a moral decision. It got to be the same 'ol same 'ol.Remember that Peggy Lee song"Is That All There Is"?Well she didn't get anything out of the circus.The Coahuila,after awhile,was having that same effect with me.

They always put the red light district to the side, hidden away from the public, though everyone knows where it is anyway.There might be some shame for the girls that work there,but for a man it is a place to blow off some steam. Sort of relieve himself.I mean you could be married to Miss America,but after awhile you want to roll in the sack with someone else.Someone who looks different and does it differently.

Like I said I hadn't ventured through the Coahuila for some time. I'd heard about this club they opened up a few years back called the Hong Kong.I knew where to find it so my curiosity and my hormones propelled my feet. I saw the big sign in front and walked inside.The place was just like I'd heard.Two stories a,dance floors ,a long bar,and strobe lights swirling around and around.But what floored me was the women. Vegas couldn't hold a candle to this place.I mean it was a Wednesday afternoon and the place was packed with bombshells walking around in g strings and wearing high heals.There wasn't a wrinkle on their smooth bodies. They all looked to be in their twenties. Some had blond hair hanging straight down their backs. They strolled around elegantly. They walked around like models would walk.They all had sexy looks on their faces.Either the vamp look or an alluring smile. So what did I do?I toured the premises and walked back outside. The word is that 60 bucks and an additional sawbuck for the room and you can get throwed and blowed.But I didn't want to get to the basketball game late.Besides, it looked like all business with those girls to me unless you wanted to sit with one and drop 50 dollars worth of watered down drinks on them so they get their "ficha"-their split.But still it seemed like an assembly line.Probably if I had gotten liquored up my thought process would gotten rearranged.But I wanted to cheer the team on at the basketball game

Those girls at the Hong Kong,along with the competion next door at The Adelita Bar,offered the best looking split tails that peddled their hips in the Coahuila.Even the horny gringios are becoming a large part of the clientele.Why spend time on the computer surfing the porn sights when they can drive down to TJ in twenty minutes and step into "gagaland."But like the says,"Is That All There Is To The Hong Kong?"

So I go outside and walk by the girls who don't have the bodies and faces to qualify to work at the Hong Kong .They stand outside on front of the other bars wearing their mini faldas and texting on their phones.They should be looking at all the horny dudes walking up and down the street looking for a glance or wanting to hear that"psst,baby sucky f---y?".But like I say,I've been away for awhile.

http://r.search.yahoo.com/_ylt=A0SO8zF. ... 7Y0J2mZa8-

The Hong Kong

[dagosd2000]

Small Hands

I asked Gaspar Ortega at the World Boxing Hall Of Fame Banquet if he had ever fought Ray Robinson. He smiled and shook his head.
"Robinson was a middleweight. I was a welterweight."
It was like that was to be understood. Not a "yes" or a "no".Robinson was up a division. He was the bigger man.Indio had no problem with that. That excuse was legit.

Remember in the bio pic of Jake LaMotta,Raging Bull,LaMotta ,played by Robert DeNiro ,asked his brother Joey,played by Joe Pesci,to look at his hands? LaMotta said he had these "small hands,like a girl's hands."
Joey looked a littled puzzled.
"So what?I've got them too,"he said as he showed his hands to his brother.
"But that means I'll never be able to fight Joe Louis. I'll never be able to fight the best."
"Of course not,"responded Joey still a bit dumbfounded."Your a middleweight and he's a heavyweight."
After that comment Jake told his brother to wrap a towel around his hand and begin to belt him in the face.

You can get just about a unanimous decision about who was the greatest pound for pound fighter who ever lived.The result is more than likely Ray Robinson.(If you go to the dago neighborhood,the answer is more than likely Willie Pep).But you have to qualify the question."pound for pound."Even the greatest, Ali, said,"I am the greatest heavyweight,but Sugar Ray Robinson was the greatest"pound for pound."

I always wondered what was in the back of Ray Robinson's mind. He was apprehensive of moving up to challenge Joey Maxin for the light heavy title. Robby had difficulty with "big"middleweights and now George Gainsford wanted him to wrest Maxim's crown from his head. Joey couldn't break an egg so George thought his boy was safe.But the heat AND Joey Maxin melted Sugar to the canvas.

Robinson said later that if he had beaten Maxim,that Gainsford would have made him sign with Marciano.lol.But even if you are the best pound for pound,it doesn't qualify you to beat the bigger men,unless you're the best "pound for pound"wearing the heavyweight championship belt around your waist.



The greatest pound for pound

[alicemartin4]

Chalky Wright was not born in Mexico or Colorado. I am his second cousin and according to his birth and death certificates, he was born in Willcox, Arizona, February 1, 1912. He was the seventh child born to James Wright (a cattle raiser) and Clara Wright (housekeeper). Clara Wright was a ranch owner at age seven, when her mother relocated to Louisiana and her Father (Caleb B Martin) sold the Martin Milk to her and her brother for $1.00.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Albert-C ... =bookmarks

[scartissue]

Chalky Wright was not born in Mexico or Colorado. I am his second cousin and according to his birth and death certificates, he was born in Willcox, Arizona, February 1, 1912. He was the seventh child born to James Wright (a cattle raiser) and Clara Wright (housekeeper). Clara Wright was a ranch owner at age seven, when her mother relocated to Louisiana and her Father (Caleb B Martin) sold the Martin Milk to her and her brother for $1.00.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Albert-C ... =bookmarks

I think I once read something about that. That Chalky used to like going around saying he was born in Durango, Mexico, but it was actually all BS. But this is the first time I've read where he's really from. Thanks for sharing that tidbit with us.

[Chuck1052]

Ironically, Chalky is listed as a native of Arizona in the California death records and the 1930 and 1940 U.S. Census records.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

Chaly Bwurly

When I'd lend Archie Moore a hand at his Any Boy Can Club for kids who wanted to learn how to fight and in turn had to toe the line when it came to discipline with the ol' champ,I never wanted to bend Archie's ear about his fistic past.I figured he'd been asked enough questions and probed more than a lot about his opinion on the sport. But I always had something in mind when I was around him.He was very serious about working with the kids and making sure they didn't let slip a four letter word as well learning how to slip a punch,so trying to pin him down about anything that didn't pertain to the Any Boy Can seemed like a topic to be placed on the back burner.I reasoned when that certain time and place became apropos,I'd lead with my left. I remember when I saw that opening. Arch's guard was down. He had his hand on the top rope staring at the center of the ring waiting for a couple of the youngins' to engage in a sparring match. I kind of sidled up to him and in my best nonchalant voice asked the obvious.
"Say champ,who was your toughest opponent?"
Archie didn't veer his look from the center of the ring and answered like he had probably been asked that question a million times before.In that smooth, polite,and pretty voice he said"Chaly Bwurly."
I waited for elaboration. I thought I was going to hear Marciano or Charles or even Patterson,but no,it was a name that didn't surprise me ,but still caught me with my chin sticking out.
"Slick as hot grease on a skillet.For every trick I had he had three more to come back with."
All in that soft, beautiful, slow voice.


I didn't pursue his response any further. I kind of felt a load off my chest,but he answered like it was second nature.Still a little star struck I began to think about Charley Burley. There's only one fight of his on film.Can't tell a whole lot from watching it.Yet ask all the great fighters and trainers of his day and they'll tell you he was up there with Robinson.

Charley Burley was hung on that color line that prevented many black fighters from getting their shot at a title.You know the names. If any poster wants to respond,go ahead and put up the list. Archie Moore thought that he was going to be denied just like Charley Burley.All those Black Murderers' Row fellas were killing each other week after week thinking that the only direction they were heading was a burg called Palookaville.But Archie Moore got his break. It wasn't a lucky break.Along with Doc Kearns(who was with Joey Maxim,and as part of the deal would be in Archie's corner after the Mongoose, aged somewhere between 40 and 40 something,won his championship),the cutie Charley Johnston,and the brotherhood of the National Boxing Association and members of bad standing on the periphery,Archie Moore would not wind up being another Charley Burley,a fighter who got put on the back of the sports page when the topic of" who were the great ones" was kicked around the local watering hole. There is plenty to watch of Moore on film after dethroning Joey Maxim.A first ballot IBHOFer.A legend in his own time.But Charley Burley deserves much more credit .For the aficionados of boxing Charley Burley sits beside Moore and Charles and Joe Louis and the great Sugar Ray.If Archie Moore can tell me that Charley Burley was his toughest opponent,that's credit enough for me.

[Chuck1052]

Charley Burley and his family lived in San Diego for a short period of time during World War II. While continuing to be active a fighter, Burley was holding down a fulltime manufacturing job in San Diego.

Much like Eddie Mustafa Muhammad, Burley was a fighter with plenty of talent and terrific all-around boxing skills, but had a tendency to stink out the joint with his fighting style. As a result, Burley never became much of a gate attraction, something that undoubtedly hampered his chances of fighting popular boxers or getting bouts at many major American boxing venues. For his only pro bout in New York City, Burley stopped a club fighter named Phil McQuillan in the first round at a relatively minor boxing venue, Saint Nicholas Arena (also known as St. Nick's) on April 20, 1942.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

Charley Burley and his family lived in San Diego for a short period of time during World War II. While continuing to be active a fighter, Burley was holding down a fulltime manufacturing job in San Diego.

Much like Eddie Mustafa Muhammad, Burley was a fighter with plenty of talent and terrific all-around boxing skills, but had a tendency to stink out the joint with his fighting style. As a result, Burley never became much of a gate attraction, something that undoubtedly hampered his chances of fighting popular boxers or getting bouts at many major American boxing venues. For his only pro bout in New York City, Burley stopped a club fighter named Phil McQuillan in the first round at a relatively minor boxing venue, Saint Nicholas Arena (also known as St. Nick's) on April 20, 1942.

- Chuck Johnston

Chuck,
Nobody had a more "boring"style of fighting,than, let's say,Joey Maxim,yet he fought in major venues and became a champ. Maxie Rosenbloom was another example. Charley Burley was never given an opportunity he deserved because the "popular" fighters who wore title belts would have lost to him. You gonna' tell me Marty Servo or Red Cochrane could have beat him? LaMotta and Graziano had trouble with good boxers. No way they'd fight him. And besides, Burley was black. Sugar Ray waited and waited before he finally got to the top. Living and fighting in New York was a positive that gave him exposure,but even Robinson wasn't interested that much in fighting Burley.Burley might have made him look bad.

Just read the most"boring"fighter in the world ,Floyd Mayweather, is finally going to fight PacMan. They say it's going to be the biggest gate ever. Too bad Charley Burley won't be around to see it.

[Chuck1052]

Roger- Most fighters who got a big break in professional boxing had the right management to make it happen. Until finding the right management, they had a tough row to hoe regardless how good they were. Look what happened to Jersey Joe Walcott and Archie Moore before and after they got managers who eventually led them to the Promised Land. Maxie Rosenbloom, Joey Maxim and Floyd Mayweather Jr. also had managers who made things happen for them. It looks like Charley Burley never had a manager who could give him a realistic chance to get some good paydays, let alone a shot at a world title.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

Roger- Most fighters who got a big break in professional boxing had the right management to make it happen. Until finding the right management, they had a tough row to hoe regardless how good they were. Look what happened to Jersey Joe Walcott and Archie Moore before and after they got managers who eventually led them to the Promised Land. Maxie Rosenbloom, Joey Maxim and Floyd Mayweather Jr. also had managers who made things happen for them. It looks like Charley Burley never had a manager who could give him a realistic chance to get some good paydays, let alone a shot at a world title.

- Chuck Johnston

Chuck
Another thing to keep in mind is back in the those days it was important to have a significant amateur career. Winning or doing well in the New York or Chicago Golden Gloves was an excellent jump start to a pro career. Louis and Robinson are examples. If a fighter began his career out west or in the south,he new he'd have to make it in New York if he was going to meet the guys who controlled the sport.