Roger, Charley Burley also had a substantial amateur boxing career, reportedly winning 43 of 49 bouts. He won two Pittsburgh Golden Glove championships (one of them being a junior championship) and was the runner-up in the 1936 National A.A.U. Championships which took place in Cleveland. Burley apparently refused an opportunity to be in the "Box-Offs" for a spot on the 1936 U.S. Olympic boxing team which went to Berlin.
Burley was given a spot on the American team which was traveled to Spain to participate in the "People's Olympiad," an alternative version to the 1936 Berlin Olympics. While Burley and the rest of the American team were in Spain, the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War resulted in the "People's Olympiad" being cancelled before it began.
- Chuck Johnston
Classic American West Coast Boxing
-
dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
I've Been Away For Awhile Part 2
The CREA Boxing Gym has always been the number one facility for the more ambitious Mexican fighters to test themselves to see if they have what it takes to eventually emigrate northward and fight in the bigger venues of the U.S. The gym is located within the confines of the government athletic facility on Padre Kino Boulevard at the bottom of Colonia Libertad. Although some of TJ's best known fighters,like Margarito and Morales, have their own gyms in town,these boys know that this is the place, where if you want to establish a reputation as a fighter,you're going to have to get through the talent that sweats and strains inside the concrete walls of the CREA.
Parking around the CREA is at a premium.Most people try to find a spot along the street.Traffic is crowded and gets bogged down with cars circling around the "glorietas".If you don't drive like everyone else you'll struggle trying to maneuver through the chaos. Courtesy is definitely not a virtue nor does it pay off when driving in Mexico. A few blocks down from the CREA there is a little dirt lot where I usually park my car .Inside the dirt lot at the back end is a little shack. A one room shack that looked ,at one time,like it might have been a taco stand . Living inside was a little old lady with steel gray pigtails down her back. She was always wearing her " mendil",the Spanish equivalent of an apron. It was splotched with cooking stains,mostly splatters of "manteca."There were always a bunch of little kids running in and out of the shack with an equal number of cats alongside.You see, this old woman lived in this shack with these kids and these cats, and took care of things. The old lady's daughter was in jail.The daughter's husband(or most likely only the father of the kids)had OD'd on heroin.So it was the grandmother who tried to keep things together.
Now the people in the vicinity, who frequented the CREA and the locals, always made sure the old lady had enough pesos to buy food and pay her utilities. Asking for rent was out of the question.She always was smiling sitting on a chair outside the shack with a kid and a cat on her lap.She told me she was blessed to have her grandchildren with her along with all the cats. I would always slip her five bucks when I parked my car there asking her to keep an eye on it. Though she was brown and wrinkled without any teeth she had a beautiful face and smile. She'd assure me that she wouldn't let anyone mess with my car.I never worried about it because no one would dare enter her sanctuary and commit a sacrilege of molesting her privacy.
Last week I decided to go to Tijuana to get some medicine for this rash I had on my hand. Now I could use my insurance here ,but that means I'd have to make an appointment with a doctor so he in turn could write me the prscription for the salve. Big hassle for nothing. I could drive to TJ,buy the same salve and get it for a few bucks cheaper ,and not have to schedule an appointment.So last week I drove to the big drugstore that was near the CREA. I thought I'd get the medicine and maybe drop in on the fighters at the CREA. After buying the medicine,I drove to the little dirt lot and parked my car,but to my surprise the shack was gone.It had been leveled to the ground.There's a liquor store next to the parking lot so I walked over to buy a Coke with my main intention to find out what happened to the shack,the old lady,the kids,and the cats.As the guy behind the counter was ringing me up I asked him what had happened.
"Que paso?Where is the viejita?"
"She died,"he answered ringing up the register not looking at me.
"That's terrible,"I said. "What did she die from?"
"She was an old lady,"answered the guy behind the counter.
"And the kids ?"
"They are out in the street somewhere.When she died we collected money for the funeral."
"How about her daughter?"
"She is in jail.I don't think she wants the kids anyway."
I felt that was the end of the conversation.I wanted to do something,but it was pointless. The guy behind the counter turned around and began cleaning off a shelf.
As I walked outside with the unopened can of Coke in my hand, I thought that I should drive back across the border.I wanted to beat the afternoon traffic,and besides, it was probably too early for any fighters to have shown up at the CREA.
My wife and her Godmother. She's 103 years old. Similar to the old lady I wrote about. As old as they are,they're God's children.
The CREA Boxing Gym has always been the number one facility for the more ambitious Mexican fighters to test themselves to see if they have what it takes to eventually emigrate northward and fight in the bigger venues of the U.S. The gym is located within the confines of the government athletic facility on Padre Kino Boulevard at the bottom of Colonia Libertad. Although some of TJ's best known fighters,like Margarito and Morales, have their own gyms in town,these boys know that this is the place, where if you want to establish a reputation as a fighter,you're going to have to get through the talent that sweats and strains inside the concrete walls of the CREA.
Parking around the CREA is at a premium.Most people try to find a spot along the street.Traffic is crowded and gets bogged down with cars circling around the "glorietas".If you don't drive like everyone else you'll struggle trying to maneuver through the chaos. Courtesy is definitely not a virtue nor does it pay off when driving in Mexico. A few blocks down from the CREA there is a little dirt lot where I usually park my car .Inside the dirt lot at the back end is a little shack. A one room shack that looked ,at one time,like it might have been a taco stand . Living inside was a little old lady with steel gray pigtails down her back. She was always wearing her " mendil",the Spanish equivalent of an apron. It was splotched with cooking stains,mostly splatters of "manteca."There were always a bunch of little kids running in and out of the shack with an equal number of cats alongside.You see, this old woman lived in this shack with these kids and these cats, and took care of things. The old lady's daughter was in jail.The daughter's husband(or most likely only the father of the kids)had OD'd on heroin.So it was the grandmother who tried to keep things together.
Now the people in the vicinity, who frequented the CREA and the locals, always made sure the old lady had enough pesos to buy food and pay her utilities. Asking for rent was out of the question.She always was smiling sitting on a chair outside the shack with a kid and a cat on her lap.She told me she was blessed to have her grandchildren with her along with all the cats. I would always slip her five bucks when I parked my car there asking her to keep an eye on it. Though she was brown and wrinkled without any teeth she had a beautiful face and smile. She'd assure me that she wouldn't let anyone mess with my car.I never worried about it because no one would dare enter her sanctuary and commit a sacrilege of molesting her privacy.
Last week I decided to go to Tijuana to get some medicine for this rash I had on my hand. Now I could use my insurance here ,but that means I'd have to make an appointment with a doctor so he in turn could write me the prscription for the salve. Big hassle for nothing. I could drive to TJ,buy the same salve and get it for a few bucks cheaper ,and not have to schedule an appointment.So last week I drove to the big drugstore that was near the CREA. I thought I'd get the medicine and maybe drop in on the fighters at the CREA. After buying the medicine,I drove to the little dirt lot and parked my car,but to my surprise the shack was gone.It had been leveled to the ground.There's a liquor store next to the parking lot so I walked over to buy a Coke with my main intention to find out what happened to the shack,the old lady,the kids,and the cats.As the guy behind the counter was ringing me up I asked him what had happened.
"Que paso?Where is the viejita?"
"She died,"he answered ringing up the register not looking at me.
"That's terrible,"I said. "What did she die from?"
"She was an old lady,"answered the guy behind the counter.
"And the kids ?"
"They are out in the street somewhere.When she died we collected money for the funeral."
"How about her daughter?"
"She is in jail.I don't think she wants the kids anyway."
I felt that was the end of the conversation.I wanted to do something,but it was pointless. The guy behind the counter turned around and began cleaning off a shelf.
As I walked outside with the unopened can of Coke in my hand, I thought that I should drive back across the border.I wanted to beat the afternoon traffic,and besides, it was probably too early for any fighters to have shown up at the CREA.
My wife and her Godmother. She's 103 years old. Similar to the old lady I wrote about. As old as they are,they're God's children.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Joey Maxim was from Cleveland, Ohio, which was a terrific boxing city during the 1940s, especially for top light-heavyweights. That may be one reason why Maxim was able to get plenty of bouts on the way to a highly successful career as a professional boxer despite having fighting style which was far from exciting.
Jimmy Bivins also fought out of Cleveland during the 1940s. Despite never getting a shot at a title, Bivins was a good gate attraction, especially in Cleveland.
Charley Burley apparently had little trouble getting under the middleweight limit during most of his career. As a result, he probably would have had trouble fighting in the light-heavyweight division. Keep in mind that a number of his opponents later fought in the light-heavyweight or heavyweight divisions successfully, including Bivins, Ezzard Charles, Archie Moore and Lloyd Marshall. The fact that Burley was not a light-heavyweight during his prime could be one reason why he never fought in Cleveland.
- Chuck Johnston
Jimmy Bivins also fought out of Cleveland during the 1940s. Despite never getting a shot at a title, Bivins was a good gate attraction, especially in Cleveland.
Charley Burley apparently had little trouble getting under the middleweight limit during most of his career. As a result, he probably would have had trouble fighting in the light-heavyweight division. Keep in mind that a number of his opponents later fought in the light-heavyweight or heavyweight divisions successfully, including Bivins, Ezzard Charles, Archie Moore and Lloyd Marshall. The fact that Burley was not a light-heavyweight during his prime could be one reason why he never fought in Cleveland.
- Chuck Johnston
-
dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Held Up
Last year I attended,with my grandson Adam, the fight card at the 4 Points Sheraton Hotel just up the freeway 805 from downtown San Diego. Bobby DePhillippis promotes fights around a half a dozen times a year inside the conference room at the Sheraton. Bobby likes to be called "Bobby D" and he does his best to put on a show. I don't know the particulars on how the money is split up at the end of the night,but I can't imagine any pug getting rich fighting for "Bobby D". He tells everyone that staring a career with him is the first stepping stone.If you don't fall on the rocks up the fight trail,the bigger venues and more notable promoters lie ahead.
Me and Adam were there that night to watch the burgeoning career of Tiger Smalls' son,Prince. Tiger handles all factors concerning the training and financial takes(at least what Tiger can put on the table),and then negotiates with Mr. "Bobby D".
They usually draw a pretty good crowd for these affairs even though the main event is usually an eight rounder.I can't remember when a top ten contender laced up his gloves to do battle in San Diego. Prince won his four round bout easily over an easy opponent.It was hard to recall because the fight was pretty much uneventful with Prince winning every round. No knockdowns,neither boy in trouble.
But what sticks out in my mind was, when before the main event, the announcer(look up the definition of "lounge lizard"in the dictionary and you'll see this guy's face)proclaimed to the audience that one of the dignitaries sitting at ringside was one of Archie Moore's old combatants, at the then relatively new San Diego Coliseum,Johnny "The Bandit" Romero.
When I was a kid first getting interested in the sport,I'd hear the old timers talking about the rivalry between Moore,who had blown in from Saint Louie,and the local boy,Romero. During the mid 30's they split a pair of wins.To hear those old timers reminisce it sounded like Graziano/Zale. The frizzy haired announcer pointed to a balding gentleman sitting in the front row and asked the crowd to give him a big hand. The old guy in the suit smiled without getting up and waved back to everyone. The applause was moderate at best because I don't think the spectators knew anything about Johnny Romero. I had known he was at one time a local favorite and that he had done combat with the young Mongoose.He had a ton of fights and had won some state titles.That was my extent of his history.
But after the lights had dimmed and I was driving home with my grandson,I began thinking.If that was Johnny Romero ,how old could he have been?I looked up his stats on BoxRec. Says Romero was born in 1910,died 1978.So unless they unearthed him and put a smile on his face and dressed him in a blue suit,that old guy, whoever he was, ringer.If he wasn't, that would have made him 104 years old.
Naw,coming to think about it,that old guy didn't look a day over a hundred, tops.
A young Archie Moore. It's hard to believe that he was young once.
Last year I attended,with my grandson Adam, the fight card at the 4 Points Sheraton Hotel just up the freeway 805 from downtown San Diego. Bobby DePhillippis promotes fights around a half a dozen times a year inside the conference room at the Sheraton. Bobby likes to be called "Bobby D" and he does his best to put on a show. I don't know the particulars on how the money is split up at the end of the night,but I can't imagine any pug getting rich fighting for "Bobby D". He tells everyone that staring a career with him is the first stepping stone.If you don't fall on the rocks up the fight trail,the bigger venues and more notable promoters lie ahead.
Me and Adam were there that night to watch the burgeoning career of Tiger Smalls' son,Prince. Tiger handles all factors concerning the training and financial takes(at least what Tiger can put on the table),and then negotiates with Mr. "Bobby D".
They usually draw a pretty good crowd for these affairs even though the main event is usually an eight rounder.I can't remember when a top ten contender laced up his gloves to do battle in San Diego. Prince won his four round bout easily over an easy opponent.It was hard to recall because the fight was pretty much uneventful with Prince winning every round. No knockdowns,neither boy in trouble.
But what sticks out in my mind was, when before the main event, the announcer(look up the definition of "lounge lizard"in the dictionary and you'll see this guy's face)proclaimed to the audience that one of the dignitaries sitting at ringside was one of Archie Moore's old combatants, at the then relatively new San Diego Coliseum,Johnny "The Bandit" Romero.
When I was a kid first getting interested in the sport,I'd hear the old timers talking about the rivalry between Moore,who had blown in from Saint Louie,and the local boy,Romero. During the mid 30's they split a pair of wins.To hear those old timers reminisce it sounded like Graziano/Zale. The frizzy haired announcer pointed to a balding gentleman sitting in the front row and asked the crowd to give him a big hand. The old guy in the suit smiled without getting up and waved back to everyone. The applause was moderate at best because I don't think the spectators knew anything about Johnny Romero. I had known he was at one time a local favorite and that he had done combat with the young Mongoose.He had a ton of fights and had won some state titles.That was my extent of his history.
But after the lights had dimmed and I was driving home with my grandson,I began thinking.If that was Johnny Romero ,how old could he have been?I looked up his stats on BoxRec. Says Romero was born in 1910,died 1978.So unless they unearthed him and put a smile on his face and dressed him in a blue suit,that old guy, whoever he was, ringer.If he wasn't, that would have made him 104 years old.
Naw,coming to think about it,that old guy didn't look a day over a hundred, tops.
A young Archie Moore. It's hard to believe that he was young once.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
In this day and age, I would think that someone would have looked for information about Johnny "The Bandit" Romero on the internet, especially his boxing record on BoxRec, before introducing an obvious imposter claiming to be Romero at a boxing show. While looking at newpapers on microfilm, I read about Romero being a sparring partner for Jimmy McLarnin, who was training for a world welterweight title bout with the reigning champion, Young Corbett III at Wrigley Field in Los Angeles during 1933. Like Corbett, Romero was a southpaw. McLarnin won the bout by a technical knockout in the first round.
- Chuck Johnston
- Chuck Johnston
-
scartissue
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 1893
- Joined: 31 Mar 2002, 20:00
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Remember a few years ago Pete Ehrmann, the writer who is based in Wisconsin, fell for an imposter claiming to be Freddie (Red) Cochrane. He did a lengthy interview, which was printed in Ring Magazine until it was discovered shortly thereafter that he was a complete fraud. Claiming he moved to Wisconsin from New Jersey to be near his daughter, he had an elaborate story that Pete fell for. I guess these guys lived such a sh*tty life that they need to pose as someone else for an applause.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
scartissue, I rarely have read Ring Magazine since the advent of the internet. In addition, the price of
the magazine has gone through the roof.
- Chuck Johnston
the magazine has gone through the roof.
- Chuck Johnston
-
dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Pueblos Magicos
The other day I was in Tijuana getting one of my paintings framed.I decided to get some tacos while waiting for the work to be completed.While eating my tacos at he little stand on the corner I was talking to the Mexican woman serving my food. As I usually do when talking to a Mexican,I asked her where she was from.Though Tijuana's population is over a million and a half,it seems to me most people who live in Tijuana are from somewhere else.(kind of like San Diego). Well this woman told me she's from Alamos,Sonora. When I got back to San Diego,I looked up Alamos,Sonora on the internet. Turns out this burg has been named a "pueblo magico" by the Mexican Department of Tourism.For curiosity sake I also googled my wife's hometown, Jiquilpan,Michoacan. Bingo! Another town on the "pueblo magico " list. So now I looked up "pueblo magico" to find out what the qualifications are to get on this list.Turns out there's 83 towns from all the states in the republic that are on the roll.
The government says that these towns are a "magical experience,a 'magical village' is a place with symbolism,legends,history,important events,day to life-in other words'magic' in its social and cultural manifestations,with great opportunities for tourism."
"Tourism."I knew there was a catch.Maybe if gringos can read about these sleepy little villages they will find a safer place to travel across the border. These 83 towns are located in the middle of nowhere in remote areas where there is more violence because the isolation increases their vulnerability. I've never seen a white guy in my wife's hometown in the 40 years I've been going down there. Not to say that there's probably been some vagabond backpacker who is living the Jack Kerouac experience who's crossed through and then thinks he's Jack Kerouac. Let's drink to that and toast one foe 'ol Jack.
I asked my wife if she was aware that Jiquilpan is a "pueblo magico"She came back with that the lakes around Jiquilpan have curative powers.I told her about how the Mexican government selected her hometown for this honor and had nothing to do with the lakes. She said she was unaware of what a "pueblo magico"is. I doubt if anyone in Jiquilpan is cognizant that they live in a "pueblo magico" either. That probably holds true for Alamos,Sonora and all the other" magic villages". It's hard enough to make ends meet in the big cities. Trying to eke out a living in the remote areas in Mexico is a continual struggle that's approaching impossibility. Being christened as something "magical" by the government isn't putting food on the table. Granted,these towns are very pretty to look at,but to live there and get married and try to bring up a family, you'll need to do more than to wave a magic wand.
I should call up my friend,former lightweight champ Rodolfo Gonzalez,and tell him that Jiquilpan is a "pueblo magico." Rodolfo fought in the bull ring there early in his career.We've talked about him returning to the land of his fathers. I know what he'd say.
"No Rogelio,there are too many problems.It's better for me me here."
Unless you're part of the aristocracy,the elite,the families that have always have it made(and this is a very thin veneer),life in Mexico is not so bad.But there's been a recent cost. The "narcos" are in control,and as long as the elite can pay them off it's more or less safe. But that's not a guarantee. Many of Mexico's wealthy have moved to the U.S. side. They can't trust their bodyguards anymore.
The only hope is that the desperation will turn into apathy.There's no light at the end of the tunnel.As Catholic as Mexico is,I'm sure the prayers are being said . Sounds bittersweet,but it's the truth. To enter heaven ,suffering is a pre requisite. As for "magic",it's just an illusion.
Jiquilpan ,Michoacán. A "pueblo magico"
The other day I was in Tijuana getting one of my paintings framed.I decided to get some tacos while waiting for the work to be completed.While eating my tacos at he little stand on the corner I was talking to the Mexican woman serving my food. As I usually do when talking to a Mexican,I asked her where she was from.Though Tijuana's population is over a million and a half,it seems to me most people who live in Tijuana are from somewhere else.(kind of like San Diego). Well this woman told me she's from Alamos,Sonora. When I got back to San Diego,I looked up Alamos,Sonora on the internet. Turns out this burg has been named a "pueblo magico" by the Mexican Department of Tourism.For curiosity sake I also googled my wife's hometown, Jiquilpan,Michoacan. Bingo! Another town on the "pueblo magico " list. So now I looked up "pueblo magico" to find out what the qualifications are to get on this list.Turns out there's 83 towns from all the states in the republic that are on the roll.
The government says that these towns are a "magical experience,a 'magical village' is a place with symbolism,legends,history,important events,day to life-in other words'magic' in its social and cultural manifestations,with great opportunities for tourism."
"Tourism."I knew there was a catch.Maybe if gringos can read about these sleepy little villages they will find a safer place to travel across the border. These 83 towns are located in the middle of nowhere in remote areas where there is more violence because the isolation increases their vulnerability. I've never seen a white guy in my wife's hometown in the 40 years I've been going down there. Not to say that there's probably been some vagabond backpacker who is living the Jack Kerouac experience who's crossed through and then thinks he's Jack Kerouac. Let's drink to that and toast one foe 'ol Jack.
I asked my wife if she was aware that Jiquilpan is a "pueblo magico"She came back with that the lakes around Jiquilpan have curative powers.I told her about how the Mexican government selected her hometown for this honor and had nothing to do with the lakes. She said she was unaware of what a "pueblo magico"is. I doubt if anyone in Jiquilpan is cognizant that they live in a "pueblo magico" either. That probably holds true for Alamos,Sonora and all the other" magic villages". It's hard enough to make ends meet in the big cities. Trying to eke out a living in the remote areas in Mexico is a continual struggle that's approaching impossibility. Being christened as something "magical" by the government isn't putting food on the table. Granted,these towns are very pretty to look at,but to live there and get married and try to bring up a family, you'll need to do more than to wave a magic wand.
I should call up my friend,former lightweight champ Rodolfo Gonzalez,and tell him that Jiquilpan is a "pueblo magico." Rodolfo fought in the bull ring there early in his career.We've talked about him returning to the land of his fathers. I know what he'd say.
"No Rogelio,there are too many problems.It's better for me me here."
Unless you're part of the aristocracy,the elite,the families that have always have it made(and this is a very thin veneer),life in Mexico is not so bad.But there's been a recent cost. The "narcos" are in control,and as long as the elite can pay them off it's more or less safe. But that's not a guarantee. Many of Mexico's wealthy have moved to the U.S. side. They can't trust their bodyguards anymore.
The only hope is that the desperation will turn into apathy.There's no light at the end of the tunnel.As Catholic as Mexico is,I'm sure the prayers are being said . Sounds bittersweet,but it's the truth. To enter heaven ,suffering is a pre requisite. As for "magic",it's just an illusion.
Jiquilpan ,Michoacán. A "pueblo magico"
-
dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Let The Secret Out
I'm a little late on this,this being the passing of Harold Johnson.I never heard Archie Moore talk about Harold Johnson when I was lending a hand at the Any Boy Can,but when I saw the obit about the death of Haeold Johnson I couldn't help think of the Mongoose. I think there were a lot of similarities,not only with the mastery of boxing skills,but human temperament and ethics. The Any Boy Can Club was almost like walking in church. Manners,respect,devotion,and a preponderance for the way of clean living was a mandatory rule inside Archie's place-and that held true for the adults too. I always made sure I watched my p's and q's inside those sacred walls. There were signs all around showing what the fine would be if Archie heard a naughty word. I believe "f--k" was a dollar penalty."S--t",I think also relieved you of a buck.Taking the Lord's name in vain had to be as bad as the two previous.It was all up there in black and white on the wall. Archie,being the man he was,would once in a while have to empty his pocket.He was the same as the others. He never was full of himself like the guy he disliked and who had wupped his ass,Cassius Clay.
They say Harold Johnson,the man who beat Archie once and had the title won if he could have only been on his feet for the end of the 15th round,was a man who also exemplified character as much as his craft.Once, when someone pointed out to Johnson an attractive woman,Harold remarked that she had a body like a "brick outhouse."
I didn't know Archie Moore that well.He was always high profile in the neighborhood in Southeast San Diego.Everyone at one time or another had run into him.He did all his shopping with the local merchants He could talk just about anything with a frame of humility and wisdom.I sat down to lunch with him at Huffman's Barbeque down the street from Lincoln High. WE chomped down our food discussing the brilliance of Charlie Parker.Arch once tried to complement his boxing with plucking a bass fiddle,but realized that the late hours of a jazz musician didn't fit well with the Spartan regimen of a fighter.Archie also bragged that he had a "secret recipe" for fried chicken. At one time he wanted to open his own joint and reduce Colonel Sanders to a private.
Archie's house was the big brick job with the swimming pool shaped like a boxing glove you could see from the 15 freeway.Now the old house is a "swingers" hangout. Man!If Archie could look down from heaven and see what they turned his place into. But maybe he doesn't dwell on that too much. Now he's got Harold up there with him.Maybe they play out what would of happened if that championship fight would have gone into the 15th,or maybe Archie's letting him in on his recipe for fried chicken.
Harold Johnson
I'm a little late on this,this being the passing of Harold Johnson.I never heard Archie Moore talk about Harold Johnson when I was lending a hand at the Any Boy Can,but when I saw the obit about the death of Haeold Johnson I couldn't help think of the Mongoose. I think there were a lot of similarities,not only with the mastery of boxing skills,but human temperament and ethics. The Any Boy Can Club was almost like walking in church. Manners,respect,devotion,and a preponderance for the way of clean living was a mandatory rule inside Archie's place-and that held true for the adults too. I always made sure I watched my p's and q's inside those sacred walls. There were signs all around showing what the fine would be if Archie heard a naughty word. I believe "f--k" was a dollar penalty."S--t",I think also relieved you of a buck.Taking the Lord's name in vain had to be as bad as the two previous.It was all up there in black and white on the wall. Archie,being the man he was,would once in a while have to empty his pocket.He was the same as the others. He never was full of himself like the guy he disliked and who had wupped his ass,Cassius Clay.
They say Harold Johnson,the man who beat Archie once and had the title won if he could have only been on his feet for the end of the 15th round,was a man who also exemplified character as much as his craft.Once, when someone pointed out to Johnson an attractive woman,Harold remarked that she had a body like a "brick outhouse."
I didn't know Archie Moore that well.He was always high profile in the neighborhood in Southeast San Diego.Everyone at one time or another had run into him.He did all his shopping with the local merchants He could talk just about anything with a frame of humility and wisdom.I sat down to lunch with him at Huffman's Barbeque down the street from Lincoln High. WE chomped down our food discussing the brilliance of Charlie Parker.Arch once tried to complement his boxing with plucking a bass fiddle,but realized that the late hours of a jazz musician didn't fit well with the Spartan regimen of a fighter.Archie also bragged that he had a "secret recipe" for fried chicken. At one time he wanted to open his own joint and reduce Colonel Sanders to a private.
Archie's house was the big brick job with the swimming pool shaped like a boxing glove you could see from the 15 freeway.Now the old house is a "swingers" hangout. Man!If Archie could look down from heaven and see what they turned his place into. But maybe he doesn't dwell on that too much. Now he's got Harold up there with him.Maybe they play out what would of happened if that championship fight would have gone into the 15th,or maybe Archie's letting him in on his recipe for fried chicken.
Harold Johnson
-
dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Samson's Hair
They say styles make for great boxing matches. They say the boxer against the puncher makes for a great fight. Then there is boxer against boxer,but sometimes that bout can be a sleeper because both boys are too cute for their own good and can put a crowd asleep.Then the slugger against en equal ilk. The bets are on who is going to fall first.If you wager for it to go the distance it's the farthest longshot. I remember a way's back the anticipated featherweight title fight between Edre Jofre and Vicente Saldivar.
Back in the 60's and 70's all I knew about upcoming fights was what I read in the papers.There were no 24 hour sports programming like there is today. No internet. No phone in radio shows. But boxing was a lot bigger back then. When you picked up the paper,the big matches were front page.One day I opened the sports page and read that Vicente Saldivar was going to defend his title against some guy named Shibata at the Municipal Auditorium in Tijuana. That was a time when you could drive across the border,plop a sawbuck on at the ticket booth, and watch a great match.
I went by myself that night. I couldn't hustle up any interest from any of my friends about going .I liked the fights more than those guys,but I was glad in a way there were no takers. I figured Saldivar would win early and then I'd have plenty of time left over to carouse the raunchier haunts in the city afterwards.
Vicente Saldivar at that time was one of four Mexican fighters who wore title belts around their waists. Alacron Torres was the flyweight champ,Olivares the top bantam,Jose Napoles(the naturalized citizen from Cuba)was on top of the welterweight division,and Saldivar was the best featherweight around.
Usually for a title fight in TJ the promoter would put the pair in the downtown bullring because it could hold a larger crowd. But maybe because Shibata wasn't as well known as a Sugar Ramos(who Saldivar had wupped in the Estadio Azeca in Mexico City before 80,000 screaming fans) or a Jose Legra(another Saldivar victim),the venue was the tried and true auditorium.
There was a window when there was a bit of a rivalry between Japanese and Mexican fighters. I guess Kuniaka Shibata was a good set up for the indestructable Saldivar. Saldivar was a killer.He killed slowly,but non the less, a killer. He'd often start uninterested,but eventually he'd keep wading in throwing heavy hooks to the body and make the other guy collapse.Many of Saldivars knockouts came in the later rounds.He seemed unhurtable.His opponents often became exhausted because they couldn't stop him from moving forward. Mexicans really like that trait. Just as much as they like their fighters to be killers,they like them to withstand the onslaught.If they're bleeding in the process,it's more sensational.
That evening though something had happened to Saldivar. I knew what to expect from Shibata though I'd never seen him fight. Jap fighters were always in top shape to put on a go. That was their best quality. They were always in good fighting condition.Not necessarily big bangers,but in shape. So I expected Shibata to outwork Saldivar early,but then the ponderous force of the Mexican would prevail.But it didn't turn out that way.
Sure,there was Shibata out moving,out punching,and racking up the early points lead(later I saw that the scorecards had it even),but Saldivar wasn't coming on as usual. He wasn't following the script. Instead of getting stronger as the fight wore on,he was weakening. The crowd sensed the worst was about to happen.There was an eerie quietness in the air.By the 12th round it was over. Saldivar looked sick.He couldn't continue. He lost in a big upset.There was no throwing of bottles and chairs. Shibata wasn't ambushed leaving the ring. He had won fair and square.
When I see a bull like Saldivar lose like that,I know that it's virtually impossible to later make amends. Catch the lightning and putting it back in the bottle again is an act of futility.Later Saldivar would be paired with another man of stone,Eder Jofre, for that same feather title. Mexico was hopeful.I wasn't .Saldivar was sent home after four rounds.
Saldivar died at the age of 43.He fell into oblivion.His once great strength was lost with Samson's hair and in that fight with ShibataJofre went on to retire undefeated and live in his native Brazil. I see he's living the good life.But since boxing has that great tragedy amongst former fighters,the bittersweet memory of Vicente Saldivar is maybe the way it's supposed to happen.It's not nice,but who ever said boxing is nice?
The old champ today,Eder Jofre. Strong as ever.
They say styles make for great boxing matches. They say the boxer against the puncher makes for a great fight. Then there is boxer against boxer,but sometimes that bout can be a sleeper because both boys are too cute for their own good and can put a crowd asleep.Then the slugger against en equal ilk. The bets are on who is going to fall first.If you wager for it to go the distance it's the farthest longshot. I remember a way's back the anticipated featherweight title fight between Edre Jofre and Vicente Saldivar.
Back in the 60's and 70's all I knew about upcoming fights was what I read in the papers.There were no 24 hour sports programming like there is today. No internet. No phone in radio shows. But boxing was a lot bigger back then. When you picked up the paper,the big matches were front page.One day I opened the sports page and read that Vicente Saldivar was going to defend his title against some guy named Shibata at the Municipal Auditorium in Tijuana. That was a time when you could drive across the border,plop a sawbuck on at the ticket booth, and watch a great match.
I went by myself that night. I couldn't hustle up any interest from any of my friends about going .I liked the fights more than those guys,but I was glad in a way there were no takers. I figured Saldivar would win early and then I'd have plenty of time left over to carouse the raunchier haunts in the city afterwards.
Vicente Saldivar at that time was one of four Mexican fighters who wore title belts around their waists. Alacron Torres was the flyweight champ,Olivares the top bantam,Jose Napoles(the naturalized citizen from Cuba)was on top of the welterweight division,and Saldivar was the best featherweight around.
Usually for a title fight in TJ the promoter would put the pair in the downtown bullring because it could hold a larger crowd. But maybe because Shibata wasn't as well known as a Sugar Ramos(who Saldivar had wupped in the Estadio Azeca in Mexico City before 80,000 screaming fans) or a Jose Legra(another Saldivar victim),the venue was the tried and true auditorium.
There was a window when there was a bit of a rivalry between Japanese and Mexican fighters. I guess Kuniaka Shibata was a good set up for the indestructable Saldivar. Saldivar was a killer.He killed slowly,but non the less, a killer. He'd often start uninterested,but eventually he'd keep wading in throwing heavy hooks to the body and make the other guy collapse.Many of Saldivars knockouts came in the later rounds.He seemed unhurtable.His opponents often became exhausted because they couldn't stop him from moving forward. Mexicans really like that trait. Just as much as they like their fighters to be killers,they like them to withstand the onslaught.If they're bleeding in the process,it's more sensational.
That evening though something had happened to Saldivar. I knew what to expect from Shibata though I'd never seen him fight. Jap fighters were always in top shape to put on a go. That was their best quality. They were always in good fighting condition.Not necessarily big bangers,but in shape. So I expected Shibata to outwork Saldivar early,but then the ponderous force of the Mexican would prevail.But it didn't turn out that way.
Sure,there was Shibata out moving,out punching,and racking up the early points lead(later I saw that the scorecards had it even),but Saldivar wasn't coming on as usual. He wasn't following the script. Instead of getting stronger as the fight wore on,he was weakening. The crowd sensed the worst was about to happen.There was an eerie quietness in the air.By the 12th round it was over. Saldivar looked sick.He couldn't continue. He lost in a big upset.There was no throwing of bottles and chairs. Shibata wasn't ambushed leaving the ring. He had won fair and square.
When I see a bull like Saldivar lose like that,I know that it's virtually impossible to later make amends. Catch the lightning and putting it back in the bottle again is an act of futility.Later Saldivar would be paired with another man of stone,Eder Jofre, for that same feather title. Mexico was hopeful.I wasn't .Saldivar was sent home after four rounds.
Saldivar died at the age of 43.He fell into oblivion.His once great strength was lost with Samson's hair and in that fight with ShibataJofre went on to retire undefeated and live in his native Brazil. I see he's living the good life.But since boxing has that great tragedy amongst former fighters,the bittersweet memory of Vicente Saldivar is maybe the way it's supposed to happen.It's not nice,but who ever said boxing is nice?
The old champ today,Eder Jofre. Strong as ever.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
On March 31, 1933, the Supreme Court of California handed down its decision in the English v. Olympic Auditorium, Inc. case. The text of the court's opinion in the case can be found on the CASETEXT website. The opinion contains a description of the events leading to the construction of the Olympic Auditorium. Some of the facts are as follows:
1. On November 1, 1924, the Los Angeles Athletic Club and the Title Insurance and Trust Company were the owners and reputed owners of the land on which the Olympic Auditorium was constructed during 1925.
2. On November 1, 1924, the land was leased to J. M. Danziger for a period of 25 years at an annual rent of $25,000.
3. Afterwards, Danziger and his wife assigned the lease to the Olympic Auditorium, Inc., a "Delaware corporation." The
Olympic Auditorium, Inc. assumed all obligations of the lease.
4. According to the terms of the lease, the Olympic Auditorium, Inc. was authorized to build an auditorium on the leased land "at the sole cost and expense of the lessee." In addition, people and businesses involved in the construction of the auditorium were given notice that any liens on the premises "should not in any manner affect the rights of the lessor."
5. On January 9, 1925, the Los Angeles Athletic Club and the Title and Trust Company posted on the site of the future auditorium "a notice of nonresponsibility."
6. On January 10, 1925, a groundbreaking ceremony took place on the site of the future auditorium.
7. The construction of the Olympic Auditorium was completed "on or about September 10, 1925."
8. "Within due time after the completion of the building, these plaintiffs, not having been paid, filed their liens and in due time commenced these actions to foreclose them. Thereafter the Auditorium Company (the Olympic Auditorium, Inc.) defaulted in payment of rent and on August 17, 1926, the Athletic Club and Trust Company (the Los Angeles Athletic Club and the Title and Trust Company) commenced an action in unlawful detainer against the Auditorium Company to recover the said possessions."
Note- There was quite a bit of litigation on the part of the plaintiffs to get paid what was due to them in the construction of the Olympic Auditorium, all of which appears to have ended in failure in the end.
- Chuck Johnston
1. On November 1, 1924, the Los Angeles Athletic Club and the Title Insurance and Trust Company were the owners and reputed owners of the land on which the Olympic Auditorium was constructed during 1925.
2. On November 1, 1924, the land was leased to J. M. Danziger for a period of 25 years at an annual rent of $25,000.
3. Afterwards, Danziger and his wife assigned the lease to the Olympic Auditorium, Inc., a "Delaware corporation." The
Olympic Auditorium, Inc. assumed all obligations of the lease.
4. According to the terms of the lease, the Olympic Auditorium, Inc. was authorized to build an auditorium on the leased land "at the sole cost and expense of the lessee." In addition, people and businesses involved in the construction of the auditorium were given notice that any liens on the premises "should not in any manner affect the rights of the lessor."
5. On January 9, 1925, the Los Angeles Athletic Club and the Title and Trust Company posted on the site of the future auditorium "a notice of nonresponsibility."
6. On January 10, 1925, a groundbreaking ceremony took place on the site of the future auditorium.
7. The construction of the Olympic Auditorium was completed "on or about September 10, 1925."
8. "Within due time after the completion of the building, these plaintiffs, not having been paid, filed their liens and in due time commenced these actions to foreclose them. Thereafter the Auditorium Company (the Olympic Auditorium, Inc.) defaulted in payment of rent and on August 17, 1926, the Athletic Club and Trust Company (the Los Angeles Athletic Club and the Title and Trust Company) commenced an action in unlawful detainer against the Auditorium Company to recover the said possessions."
Note- There was quite a bit of litigation on the part of the plaintiffs to get paid what was due to them in the construction of the Olympic Auditorium, all of which appears to have ended in failure in the end.
- Chuck Johnston
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
All The Ring's A Stage
I'll talk about two fighters who never fought west of the Mississippi so I might lose on a DQ for bringing this up.The two fighters are Tony Zale and Rocky Graziano.Their trilogy is what makes legends.What my theme is,however,is that Rocky ,after the two boys hung up their gloves, was always more popular and recognized than Tony.Two books(Somebody Up There and then Somebody Down There Likes Me),being "Marta" Raye's "goomba" on her TV show,and of coarse the award winning box office hit Somebody Up There Likes Me with a sandy haired Paul Newman playing Graziano conversing with an overacted Bronx accent.Even Phil Silvers wanted Harvey Lembeck's role as the corporal to be named "Barbella".Guess whose name that was in real life?
But shouldn't it be the other way around?Shouldn't they have made a movie about Tony Zale?Couldn't the Man of Steel have been Martha's "przyjaciel"? Charles Bronson was close enough to Tony's bloodline to make a good fit.At least a lot nearer than Paul Newman to Rocky's heritage. Besides Charles Bronson HAD a body that looked like it was chiseled from steel.
But c'mon man.I'm just messin' with ya'.Tony was a better fighter than Rocky,but when it came to the fluff and frills of the afterlife of a boxer,Rocky had more juice. He was a funny guy.He liked everyone(except maybe his captain who he KO'd in the Army and then Rocky went AWOL before getting caught)and everyone liked Rocky .I mean he was a real funny guy.I think everyone liked Tony too,but he couldn't bring it across like Rocky. Tony had a great smile,but he didn't say too much.Rocky always said that about Tony. Rocky acted like he was always acting,but being Italian that's not much of a stretch.
I saw Rocky once co hosting the Mike Douglas show.He had everybody in stitches.Bur I guess being an ex pug and being Italian you can't make people laugh if you try to pawn yourself off as an egghead.If Tunney was still around you'd see what I mean.
So maybe a fighter's legacy is enhanced by pathos . Like a Wagnerian hero who goes down in a blaze of tragic glory so to speak.But afterwards, to hold that fan base that base,keep the attention, the ex pug has to ham it up a little.Maybe Tony Zale should have gone to acting school.
Tony Zale
I'll talk about two fighters who never fought west of the Mississippi so I might lose on a DQ for bringing this up.The two fighters are Tony Zale and Rocky Graziano.Their trilogy is what makes legends.What my theme is,however,is that Rocky ,after the two boys hung up their gloves, was always more popular and recognized than Tony.Two books(Somebody Up There and then Somebody Down There Likes Me),being "Marta" Raye's "goomba" on her TV show,and of coarse the award winning box office hit Somebody Up There Likes Me with a sandy haired Paul Newman playing Graziano conversing with an overacted Bronx accent.Even Phil Silvers wanted Harvey Lembeck's role as the corporal to be named "Barbella".Guess whose name that was in real life?
But shouldn't it be the other way around?Shouldn't they have made a movie about Tony Zale?Couldn't the Man of Steel have been Martha's "przyjaciel"? Charles Bronson was close enough to Tony's bloodline to make a good fit.At least a lot nearer than Paul Newman to Rocky's heritage. Besides Charles Bronson HAD a body that looked like it was chiseled from steel.
But c'mon man.I'm just messin' with ya'.Tony was a better fighter than Rocky,but when it came to the fluff and frills of the afterlife of a boxer,Rocky had more juice. He was a funny guy.He liked everyone(except maybe his captain who he KO'd in the Army and then Rocky went AWOL before getting caught)and everyone liked Rocky .I mean he was a real funny guy.I think everyone liked Tony too,but he couldn't bring it across like Rocky. Tony had a great smile,but he didn't say too much.Rocky always said that about Tony. Rocky acted like he was always acting,but being Italian that's not much of a stretch.
I saw Rocky once co hosting the Mike Douglas show.He had everybody in stitches.Bur I guess being an ex pug and being Italian you can't make people laugh if you try to pawn yourself off as an egghead.If Tunney was still around you'd see what I mean.
So maybe a fighter's legacy is enhanced by pathos . Like a Wagnerian hero who goes down in a blaze of tragic glory so to speak.But afterwards, to hold that fan base that base,keep the attention, the ex pug has to ham it up a little.Maybe Tony Zale should have gone to acting school.
Tony Zale
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Killing Fields
Teaching school near the border probably taught me more lessons than the lectures I ever tried to impress upon my students.I remember when California declared Cesar Chavez's birthday a state holiday. That was a day off from school and that's all that mattered to the kids,and for further matter,the sdults.So when the date approached I would break out my film that documented the protests the United Farm Workers had against the growers who wanted the pickers to re enter the fields right after the planes had come in and sprayed the grapes with pesticides.There were abnormally high incidents of cancer and children born with birth defects in the San Jouquin Valley were the pickers lived.It was the growers telling the pickers that they had to go back in there and harvest the grapes right away.If a picker didn't want to,he would be fired and another picker would be hired from the rolls to take his place. Grape pickers,whose conditions were wretched to begin with,would go back into the fields to work again without any protective clothing.Pickers needed to eat like everyone else.
Cesar Chavez ,who grew up in a family of Mexican farm workers,saw the exploitation, and wanted to change the plight of the worker. In the early 60's there were no legal provisions for farm workers to organize a union. They were excluded from the Wagner Act that was enacted during FDR's reign giving the right for labor to organize . It was a long and rough struggle for the UAF,but finally utilizing boycotts,marches,and sacrifice with a whole lot of perserverance, the pickers got the growers submit to farm workers have their bargaining units.
Cesar Chavez was not an advocate of violence to reach his agenda.Three pictures hung on his wall in his room. Mahatma Ganhdi,Dr. King,and Chavez's mother.Chavez wasn't the great orator.He didn't use big words.His rhetoric was simple and straightforward,but he never hedged on what he wanted or stood for. The average lifetime for a picker was less than 50 years. Work was sunrise to sunset. Wages were below the minimum. If a worker paused to take a rest,go to the bathroom,take a drink of water when it wasn't time,he was fired on the spot. Forget that the tempersture was more than 100 degrees.There were no benefits with this job. If the picker was sick,he went to the doctor on his own dime. If he got hurt on the job.tough.Workman's comp and disability insurance didn't apply to him. Besides,it would have come out of the growers' pocket.
But even with the acquisition of their union,the growers weren't going to take it without getting back at them.When the contract expired,the growers brought in the Teamsters,the scabs ,and the illegals from Mexico.The Teamsters weren't going to represent the pickers. They were in the hip pockets of the farm owners.Teamsters drove trucks. They knew nothing about farming or whar
t grape pickers had to endure.
But Cesar Chavez wouldn't stand for that. He went out to the fields and re organized.He got thrown in jail,got his head cracked open.The little Chicano with the soft spoken voice and the unbreakable resolve was willing to die for what he knew was right.
It's believed that because of his many fasts(the last one lasting over a month)contributed to his early death.At the end he was still protesting against the pickers having to go back into those fields that still were wet with pesticide. Sadly , this situation still persists.
So getting back to Cesar Chavez day and my classes of Mexican kids.I'd tell them I'd be showing them a film about Cesar Chavez and the class would become very excited.They thought they were going to see a movie about a boxer.When I told them it was about a labor leader who accomplished goals not only for the laborer,but brought dignity to the Mexican race,the kids were not impressed. They wanted to see the fighter. He was the tough guy.He was the macho man.Who was this other Chavez?Some sort of "maricon."A guy that felt bad that workers would go back into the fields and get wet with some chemicals.The kids thought they were stupid for going back in there in the first place.What those kids needed to know is that a lot of their parents, and especially grandparents ,were stooped laborers toiling under those conditions in the fields.But then again maybe those kids didn't get to hear any of those stories. The average life of a picker was under 50 .
Cesar Chavez
Teaching school near the border probably taught me more lessons than the lectures I ever tried to impress upon my students.I remember when California declared Cesar Chavez's birthday a state holiday. That was a day off from school and that's all that mattered to the kids,and for further matter,the sdults.So when the date approached I would break out my film that documented the protests the United Farm Workers had against the growers who wanted the pickers to re enter the fields right after the planes had come in and sprayed the grapes with pesticides.There were abnormally high incidents of cancer and children born with birth defects in the San Jouquin Valley were the pickers lived.It was the growers telling the pickers that they had to go back in there and harvest the grapes right away.If a picker didn't want to,he would be fired and another picker would be hired from the rolls to take his place. Grape pickers,whose conditions were wretched to begin with,would go back into the fields to work again without any protective clothing.Pickers needed to eat like everyone else.
Cesar Chavez ,who grew up in a family of Mexican farm workers,saw the exploitation, and wanted to change the plight of the worker. In the early 60's there were no legal provisions for farm workers to organize a union. They were excluded from the Wagner Act that was enacted during FDR's reign giving the right for labor to organize . It was a long and rough struggle for the UAF,but finally utilizing boycotts,marches,and sacrifice with a whole lot of perserverance, the pickers got the growers submit to farm workers have their bargaining units.
Cesar Chavez was not an advocate of violence to reach his agenda.Three pictures hung on his wall in his room. Mahatma Ganhdi,Dr. King,and Chavez's mother.Chavez wasn't the great orator.He didn't use big words.His rhetoric was simple and straightforward,but he never hedged on what he wanted or stood for. The average lifetime for a picker was less than 50 years. Work was sunrise to sunset. Wages were below the minimum. If a worker paused to take a rest,go to the bathroom,take a drink of water when it wasn't time,he was fired on the spot. Forget that the tempersture was more than 100 degrees.There were no benefits with this job. If the picker was sick,he went to the doctor on his own dime. If he got hurt on the job.tough.Workman's comp and disability insurance didn't apply to him. Besides,it would have come out of the growers' pocket.
But even with the acquisition of their union,the growers weren't going to take it without getting back at them.When the contract expired,the growers brought in the Teamsters,the scabs ,and the illegals from Mexico.The Teamsters weren't going to represent the pickers. They were in the hip pockets of the farm owners.Teamsters drove trucks. They knew nothing about farming or whar
t grape pickers had to endure.
But Cesar Chavez wouldn't stand for that. He went out to the fields and re organized.He got thrown in jail,got his head cracked open.The little Chicano with the soft spoken voice and the unbreakable resolve was willing to die for what he knew was right.
It's believed that because of his many fasts(the last one lasting over a month)contributed to his early death.At the end he was still protesting against the pickers having to go back into those fields that still were wet with pesticide. Sadly , this situation still persists.
So getting back to Cesar Chavez day and my classes of Mexican kids.I'd tell them I'd be showing them a film about Cesar Chavez and the class would become very excited.They thought they were going to see a movie about a boxer.When I told them it was about a labor leader who accomplished goals not only for the laborer,but brought dignity to the Mexican race,the kids were not impressed. They wanted to see the fighter. He was the tough guy.He was the macho man.Who was this other Chavez?Some sort of "maricon."A guy that felt bad that workers would go back into the fields and get wet with some chemicals.The kids thought they were stupid for going back in there in the first place.What those kids needed to know is that a lot of their parents, and especially grandparents ,were stooped laborers toiling under those conditions in the fields.But then again maybe those kids didn't get to hear any of those stories. The average life of a picker was under 50 .
Cesar Chavez
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Cesar Chavez's greatest legacy may be that he gave Latinos a much higher profile in the United States. He may have been instrumental in improving some of the working conditions for American farm workers of Mexican descent in the Southwest, but far so many stoop laborers still toil in punishing working conditions for extremely low wages and have a very poor standard of living in the United States.
In a way, the current California farm workers have a tougher row to hoe because of the very high cost of living in the state, especially when it comes to the prohibitive rents for housing. The saving grace is that American-based Latinos have far more opportunities than they did in the past.
- Chuck Johnston
In a way, the current California farm workers have a tougher row to hoe because of the very high cost of living in the state, especially when it comes to the prohibitive rents for housing. The saving grace is that American-based Latinos have far more opportunities than they did in the past.
- Chuck Johnston
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
At his peak, Tony Zale was a terrific fighter. But after being in the service during World War II, Zale was not nearly as good as before.
While Zale remained a game, capable fighter after the war, his management probably felt that he was not up to the task of fighting popular top fighters like Sugar Ray Robinson and Jake La Motta, let alone older and far less popular top middleweights such as Charley Burley and Holman Williams. Instead, Zale had middleweight title defenses against Rocky Graziano, who got a shot after fighting carefully selected opposition as a welterweight, and Marcel Cerdan, who had a padded record and struggled in the few bouts he had with top fighters before his title shot. Meanwhile, La Motta and Robinson did not get their shots at the middleweight title until 1949 and 1951 respectively.
While both Graziano and Cerdan were capable fighters, the same can't be said for the opponents that Zale faced in non-title bouts after World War II. The only opponent which had a good win-loss record was Lou Woods, who had won 36 and lost 8 by the time he met Zale, but his record was padded to a great degree.
Take a look how the most worthy contenders fared in trying to get title shots in the welterweight, middleweight and light heavyweight divisions during the middle and late 1940s. It is hard to find another period of time when so many of the most worthy contenders were shut out or had to wait a very long time in the mentioned weight divisions.
- Chuck Johnston
While Zale remained a game, capable fighter after the war, his management probably felt that he was not up to the task of fighting popular top fighters like Sugar Ray Robinson and Jake La Motta, let alone older and far less popular top middleweights such as Charley Burley and Holman Williams. Instead, Zale had middleweight title defenses against Rocky Graziano, who got a shot after fighting carefully selected opposition as a welterweight, and Marcel Cerdan, who had a padded record and struggled in the few bouts he had with top fighters before his title shot. Meanwhile, La Motta and Robinson did not get their shots at the middleweight title until 1949 and 1951 respectively.
While both Graziano and Cerdan were capable fighters, the same can't be said for the opponents that Zale faced in non-title bouts after World War II. The only opponent which had a good win-loss record was Lou Woods, who had won 36 and lost 8 by the time he met Zale, but his record was padded to a great degree.
Take a look how the most worthy contenders fared in trying to get title shots in the welterweight, middleweight and light heavyweight divisions during the middle and late 1940s. It is hard to find another period of time when so many of the most worthy contenders were shut out or had to wait a very long time in the mentioned weight divisions.
- Chuck Johnston
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Chuck, Graziano got the title shot because he was biggest box-office attraction in boxing. Sam Pian and Art Winch knew Zale didn't have much time left so they maneuvered him into matches with Graziano and another box-office star in Cerdan. If Zale fought Burley or Holman Williams etc., he would have made "peanuts" compared to the fights he took. There was never a public demand or outcry for those guys, Nat Fleischer never did an editorial on Burley, Williams, getting their rightful shots. The name of the game is "professional" boxing, and the aim is to make the biggest profit possible, and Graziano and Cerdan fights were huge payoffs for Zale. As big as Sugar Ray Robinson's ego was he was still in boxing to reap the biggest purses he could get. I have no doubt that he would have fought Burley, Williams, Wade and those guys if he thought there would have been a large financial turnover. Why risk boxing those guys when he could take the same risk,for much more money, against LaMotta, Belloise, Gavilan, Graziano. Holman Williams was not even a drawing card in Detroit or Chicago-the only time he drew well (att. 16,000) in Detroit was against LaMotta who was Detroit's all-time greatest attraction next to Joe Louis.
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endisnear21
- Super Welterweight
- Posts: 2
- Joined: 23 Mar 2015, 11:26
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
I do some painting,art work. I need to get inspired to paint. That picture of Indian Red inspired me to do a portrait of him. Great shot. He looks happy and tough as ever. That makes me happy DAGOS
========================================
Giorgi love boxing weil it is ist life
Check us out as well
http://boxing-weight-classes.com
========================================
Giorgi love boxing weil it is ist life
Check us out as well
http://boxing-weight-classes.com
-
dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Thanks.Here's Little Redendisnear21 wrote:I do some painting,art work. I need to get inspired to paint. That picture of Indian Red inspired me to do a portrait of him. Great shot. He looks happy and tough as ever. That makes me happy DAGOS
========================================
Giorgi love boxing weil it is ist life
Check us out as well
http://boxing-weight-classes.com
-
dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Restoration
For some reason I thought they had torn down the old San Diego Coliseum.Maybe it was because of all the new high rise condos they're putting up in the area. The new baseball stadium,PetCo Park is in that area. Also,last year they opened up the new downtown library. For some reason I figured they wouldn't let the old arena take up space around there,but I was wrong.
I began volunteering at St. Vincent DePaul's(more commonly known as Father Joe's) a couple a nights a week to help mentor the kids that live there with their parents,or more often just one. Father Joes is one of the homeless shelters in downtown. It's adjacent to the ballpark and the library. I help the kids with their homework,but I think my main purpose is to be a buddy,a big brother,even that surrogate dad that they need in their lives. The place knocks me off my pedestal.Brings me down to earth where I lose any self pity I've picked up during the course of the day.
Well, to get to Father Joes I drive east onto E Street that runs into 13th.The first time I ventured into that area,I saw the old Jeromes building,the former San Diego Coliseum The structure that became the furniture warehouse after the boxing arena closed its doors.Jeromes's dad ran the place to put on mainly boxing and wrestling shows. I remember going there during the 60's and 70's and watching some pretty good fights. Ken Norton started out there.When he was on the card,he'd have the place sold out.
I also went down there to workout with some of the fighters once in awhile.Although I never had the motivation to become a fighter,my claim to fame was one day I had the stupidity to spar with Kenny Norton.I walked right up to him and he promptly broke my nose.That episode is sort of my calling card for my boxing experience.
But getting back to revisiting the Coliseum. I pulled over and parked. The area was kind of desolate.There weren't even too many homeless to be seen camping out on the sidewalk.I always have my camera in the glove department of my car so I got it out to take a few pictures. The place was in worse shape since the last time I'd seen it. It was still a furniture warehouse then.Now I could tell it was closed. The Jerome sign had faded,grafitti coverd the walls,and the street out front was littered with trash and smelled of urine.Everything looked boarded up.But just before I was to walk back to my car,I heard a noise from inside.I walked around the corner and saw a door ajar.My curiosity told me to walk inside.
Inside the bulding where a bunch of old cars. They were being repaired and painted. I saw an old 1950's Porsche,It was being painted a canary yellow. It really looked sharp. Another car that caught my eye was a mid 60's Mustang. It was up on blocks. The engine was out of it underneath. I saw two guys sitting at a table working on some car parts. One guy was wiping off a clutch plate.The other guy looked like he was putting back together a carburetor.When they saw me walk in they both glanced up without stopping what they were doing.
"Did yu know this place was once a boxing arena?,"I asked wanting to get a charge out of at least one of them.
"So that's what I heard,"said the guy wiping off the clutch plate still not looking at me.
"I used to fight here,"I went on,this time lying.They just kept going about their business.
"So what do you do here?"I asked still trying to bring some levity to the room.
"We restore old cars,"said the guy with the clutch plate.
"You've got some pretty nice automobiles in here,"I said.
Nether one said anything. I paused waiting for something to happen,but figured it was time to go.I walked back outside to my car.
Driving to Father Joes I got to thinking.I guess you can restore old cars, Those are classics nowadays.Everyone my age wishes they had their old cars back. I drove a 57 Chevy Bel Air two door.I remember when I sold it for 400 bucks. The guy wanted it for the engine.That classic 283.I think it's still manufactured today,but I might be wrong.
But then I got to thinking about old fighters.Wouldn't it be something to bring them back around? Restore them like an old car.I remember Kenny Norton when he was coming up. He'd be working out at the Coliseum trying to get someone in the ring who'd give him a good workout. That's when I got my nose busted. Man that Norton had quite a physique. Looked like he lifted weights,but he didn't. God sure gave him a great body.
But I remember at the end of his life. He could barely walk. The car accident. The strokes. They took their toll. Norton isn't with us anymore.I guess when that time comes, it goes to show you that if you're alive,the end is inevitable. A piece of metal can last forever.At least if there's someone around that wants to fix it up.
Kenny Norton near the end of his life. Unrestorable,but still quite remarkable.
For some reason I thought they had torn down the old San Diego Coliseum.Maybe it was because of all the new high rise condos they're putting up in the area. The new baseball stadium,PetCo Park is in that area. Also,last year they opened up the new downtown library. For some reason I figured they wouldn't let the old arena take up space around there,but I was wrong.
I began volunteering at St. Vincent DePaul's(more commonly known as Father Joe's) a couple a nights a week to help mentor the kids that live there with their parents,or more often just one. Father Joes is one of the homeless shelters in downtown. It's adjacent to the ballpark and the library. I help the kids with their homework,but I think my main purpose is to be a buddy,a big brother,even that surrogate dad that they need in their lives. The place knocks me off my pedestal.Brings me down to earth where I lose any self pity I've picked up during the course of the day.
Well, to get to Father Joes I drive east onto E Street that runs into 13th.The first time I ventured into that area,I saw the old Jeromes building,the former San Diego Coliseum The structure that became the furniture warehouse after the boxing arena closed its doors.Jeromes's dad ran the place to put on mainly boxing and wrestling shows. I remember going there during the 60's and 70's and watching some pretty good fights. Ken Norton started out there.When he was on the card,he'd have the place sold out.
I also went down there to workout with some of the fighters once in awhile.Although I never had the motivation to become a fighter,my claim to fame was one day I had the stupidity to spar with Kenny Norton.I walked right up to him and he promptly broke my nose.That episode is sort of my calling card for my boxing experience.
But getting back to revisiting the Coliseum. I pulled over and parked. The area was kind of desolate.There weren't even too many homeless to be seen camping out on the sidewalk.I always have my camera in the glove department of my car so I got it out to take a few pictures. The place was in worse shape since the last time I'd seen it. It was still a furniture warehouse then.Now I could tell it was closed. The Jerome sign had faded,grafitti coverd the walls,and the street out front was littered with trash and smelled of urine.Everything looked boarded up.But just before I was to walk back to my car,I heard a noise from inside.I walked around the corner and saw a door ajar.My curiosity told me to walk inside.
Inside the bulding where a bunch of old cars. They were being repaired and painted. I saw an old 1950's Porsche,It was being painted a canary yellow. It really looked sharp. Another car that caught my eye was a mid 60's Mustang. It was up on blocks. The engine was out of it underneath. I saw two guys sitting at a table working on some car parts. One guy was wiping off a clutch plate.The other guy looked like he was putting back together a carburetor.When they saw me walk in they both glanced up without stopping what they were doing.
"Did yu know this place was once a boxing arena?,"I asked wanting to get a charge out of at least one of them.
"So that's what I heard,"said the guy wiping off the clutch plate still not looking at me.
"I used to fight here,"I went on,this time lying.They just kept going about their business.
"So what do you do here?"I asked still trying to bring some levity to the room.
"We restore old cars,"said the guy with the clutch plate.
"You've got some pretty nice automobiles in here,"I said.
Nether one said anything. I paused waiting for something to happen,but figured it was time to go.I walked back outside to my car.
Driving to Father Joes I got to thinking.I guess you can restore old cars, Those are classics nowadays.Everyone my age wishes they had their old cars back. I drove a 57 Chevy Bel Air two door.I remember when I sold it for 400 bucks. The guy wanted it for the engine.That classic 283.I think it's still manufactured today,but I might be wrong.
But then I got to thinking about old fighters.Wouldn't it be something to bring them back around? Restore them like an old car.I remember Kenny Norton when he was coming up. He'd be working out at the Coliseum trying to get someone in the ring who'd give him a good workout. That's when I got my nose busted. Man that Norton had quite a physique. Looked like he lifted weights,but he didn't. God sure gave him a great body.
But I remember at the end of his life. He could barely walk. The car accident. The strokes. They took their toll. Norton isn't with us anymore.I guess when that time comes, it goes to show you that if you're alive,the end is inevitable. A piece of metal can last forever.At least if there's someone around that wants to fix it up.
Kenny Norton near the end of his life. Unrestorable,but still quite remarkable.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
I agree with you. In fact, I defended Tony Zale for fighting Graziano on the Classic Forum of the Boxing News 24 website because Graziano was the best non-heavyweight drawing card in boxing at the time. On the same forum, I also wrote that Charley Burley didn't make himself a big enough gate attraction to get bouts with the most popular fighters of the 1940s.pbchron wrote:Chuck, Graziano got the title shot because he was biggest box-office attraction in boxing. Sam Pian and Art Winch knew Zale didn't have much time left so they maneuvered him into matches with Graziano and another box-office star in Cerdan. If Zale fought Burley or Holman Williams etc., he would have made "peanuts" compared to the fights he took. There was never a public demand or outcry for those guys, Nat Fleischer never did an editorial on Burley, Williams, getting their rightful shots. The name of the game is "professional" boxing, and the aim is to make the biggest profit possible, and Graziano and Cerdan fights were huge payoffs for Zale. As big as Sugar Ray Robinson's ego was he was still in boxing to reap the biggest purses he could get. I have no doubt that he would have fought Burley, Williams, Wade and those guys if he thought there would have been a large financial turnover. Why risk boxing those guys when he could take the same risk,for much more money, against LaMotta, Belloise, Gavilan, Graziano. Holman Williams was not even a drawing card in Detroit or Chicago-the only time he drew well (att. 16,000) in Detroit was against LaMotta who was Detroit's all-time greatest attraction next to Joe Louis.
After reading Harry Otty's biography of Burley again within the last month, I believe that Burley's best opportunity to become a marquee fighter was in late 1938 or early 1939. At the time, there was talk that Henry Armstrong was planning to vacate his world welterweight title because he was a natural lightweight. By late 1938, Ralph Zannelli and Burley were ranked no. 1 and no. 2 respectively in the welterweight division. Burley had been a professional boxer for only two years by that time. What would have happened if Burley was able to fight Zannelli for the vacant world welterweight title?
After Fritzie Zivic became the world welterweight champion after defeating Armstrong in a title bout during 1940, Burley's chance to become a title shot decreased dramatically. Despite fighting Burley three times before becoming a champion, Zivic never had another bout with him.
During 1941, Zivic would lose the title to Red Cochrane, who had a mediocre record at best. After becoming champion, Cochrane didn't have any title defenses during the next fourteen months, but had four non-title bouts, losing a decision to Zivic in the last one. His title became frozen for the duration of World War II after he joined the U.S. Armed Forces. After the war, Cochrane lost the title in a bout with Marty Servo, who certainly was less deserving of a title shot than Sugar Ray Robinson. However, Servo was managed by none other than Al Weill.
-Chuck Johnston
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
During a professional boxing career of about thirteen years, Charley Burley had only 98 bouts, a comparatively low total for a top non-heavyweight fighter of his day. In comparison, his great archrival, Holman Williams, had 187 known bouts during a career which lasted about 16 years. Burley did have some hand injuries during his career, resulting in him being on the shelf for a period of time, especially during 1939. But it does appear that his managers had trouble lining up bouts for him during his entire career.
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, the highest purse of Burley's career was $3,000. or $4,500., which he received for his second bout with Oakland Billy Smith in Oakland, California on April 24, 1946. According to BoxRec, the bout had a gate of $14,060. with the Oakland Tribune being cited as the source.
According to BoxRec, Burley's bout with Joe Carter drew a gate of $13,693.65 at the Civic Auditorium in San Francisco, California on March 12, 1945. According to Harry Otty, the net gate was about $10,000. with Burley and Carter each getting 25%.
Burley lived with his family in San Diego from late 1942 or early 1943 until moving back to Pittsburgh in early 1945. His wife, Julia, felt that the family would reside in San Diego on a permanent basis. At the time, Burley was making a decent living with his boxing career and a regular job in a local defense plant being his two main sources of income.
- Chuck Johnston
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, the highest purse of Burley's career was $3,000. or $4,500., which he received for his second bout with Oakland Billy Smith in Oakland, California on April 24, 1946. According to BoxRec, the bout had a gate of $14,060. with the Oakland Tribune being cited as the source.
According to BoxRec, Burley's bout with Joe Carter drew a gate of $13,693.65 at the Civic Auditorium in San Francisco, California on March 12, 1945. According to Harry Otty, the net gate was about $10,000. with Burley and Carter each getting 25%.
Burley lived with his family in San Diego from late 1942 or early 1943 until moving back to Pittsburgh in early 1945. His wife, Julia, felt that the family would reside in San Diego on a permanent basis. At the time, Burley was making a decent living with his boxing career and a regular job in a local defense plant being his two main sources of income.
- Chuck Johnston
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
More Gate and Purse Figures For Some of Charley Burley's Bouts
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, he knocked out Jerry Hayes in the 4th round in a bout which was scheduled for ten rounds in Eau Claire, Wisconsin on December 23, 1941. The bout was on a charity boxing show which had an attendance of 800.
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, Joe Hendrickson of the Minneapolis Star wrote that Burley stopped Shorty Hogue in the 10th round in scheduled ten-round bout in Minneapolis, Minnesota on January 9, 1942. The bout had an attendance of 2,000 and a gate of $1,400.
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, he received a purse of $150. for a bout in which he knocked out Sammy Wilson in the second round in Minneapolis, Minnesota on April 30, 1942. The bout was on the undercard of a boxing show which featured Sugar Ray Robinson knocking out Dick Banner in the main event. Robinson received a purse of $1,000. for the bout. Note- It appears that Robinson was managed by Curt Horrmann at the time. I recall reading in Robinson's autobiography that Horrmann, reportedly a wealthy man, was let go because he wasn't driving a hard bargain when negotiating with promoters.
According to Ray M. Todd in the September 1942 edition of Ring Magazine, Burley's second bout with Ezzard Charles had an attendance of 4,200 and a record gate of $6,843. at Hickey Park in Millvale, Pennsylvania. Burley, weighing 151 pounds, lost the decision to Charles, 160 pounds, in a rather dull ten-round bout. The gate of the bout beat the previous record of $6,000. set by a bout between Lou Brouillard and Anson Green at the same venue in 1934.
According to BoxRec, Burley's second bout with Bert Lytell had an attendance of 3,094 and a gate of $5,994.00 at the Coliseum in Baltimore, Maryland on February 17, 1947. Lytell, weighing 159 pounds, won a decision over Burley, weighing 160 1/2 pounds, in a ten-round bout. Note- Lytell also was a top black middleweight at the time.
- Chuck Johnston
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, he knocked out Jerry Hayes in the 4th round in a bout which was scheduled for ten rounds in Eau Claire, Wisconsin on December 23, 1941. The bout was on a charity boxing show which had an attendance of 800.
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, Joe Hendrickson of the Minneapolis Star wrote that Burley stopped Shorty Hogue in the 10th round in scheduled ten-round bout in Minneapolis, Minnesota on January 9, 1942. The bout had an attendance of 2,000 and a gate of $1,400.
According to Harry Otty's biography of Burley, he received a purse of $150. for a bout in which he knocked out Sammy Wilson in the second round in Minneapolis, Minnesota on April 30, 1942. The bout was on the undercard of a boxing show which featured Sugar Ray Robinson knocking out Dick Banner in the main event. Robinson received a purse of $1,000. for the bout. Note- It appears that Robinson was managed by Curt Horrmann at the time. I recall reading in Robinson's autobiography that Horrmann, reportedly a wealthy man, was let go because he wasn't driving a hard bargain when negotiating with promoters.
According to Ray M. Todd in the September 1942 edition of Ring Magazine, Burley's second bout with Ezzard Charles had an attendance of 4,200 and a record gate of $6,843. at Hickey Park in Millvale, Pennsylvania. Burley, weighing 151 pounds, lost the decision to Charles, 160 pounds, in a rather dull ten-round bout. The gate of the bout beat the previous record of $6,000. set by a bout between Lou Brouillard and Anson Green at the same venue in 1934.
According to BoxRec, Burley's second bout with Bert Lytell had an attendance of 3,094 and a gate of $5,994.00 at the Coliseum in Baltimore, Maryland on February 17, 1947. Lytell, weighing 159 pounds, won a decision over Burley, weighing 160 1/2 pounds, in a ten-round bout. Note- Lytell also was a top black middleweight at the time.
- Chuck Johnston
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Lobster Bob
You hear all kinds of news about the state of the economy.The Democrats say that the economy is getting better,new jobs are being created,and unemployment is down. They have the data to back it up. Republicans on the other hand, say that Obama hasn't done nothing but raise taxes and we have nothing to show for it. They've also got the data to validate their claims.
I've used as my barometer the number of homeless people I see on the streets.I remember,at least in San Diego,the only homeless to be found anywhere were downtown on lower Market Street near the waterfront. Most of those guys(and they were almost all old men) were winos,not so much down on their luck,but addicted to the grape. However, nowadays you can find the homeless in just about any area of the city. The high end neighborhoods are no exception.But most of the homeless are around the downtown area near the ballpark. That's also where most of the shelters are located.
I'm not going to get into why they are homeless,but you can take this to the bank,there are more homeless around than ever .So that's how I see the state of the economy.The more homeless,the worse the economy. In my neighborhood the homeless are becoming a growing concern. My burg-I guess you would call a tick above the middle class. Me and the wife live in a comfortable condo that has a nice pool and a view of the foothills in the east county.Drive down the hill a half mile and you enter the Mission Bay Park area. Nice, pretty little coves where people swim,picnic,and water ski,just to name a few of the recreational activities. But the homeless are encroaching upon this paradise. You can see them sleeping in front of the library or drinking their wine in back of the shops in the alleys,panhandling on the freeway on ramps,and urinating just about everywhere because just about everywhere you walk you don't have to be dog sniffin' around to know where these guys have left their mark.
In the morning I take my two poodles for a walk and drive through the "drive thru" at McDonalds and order my "senior coffee."I then drive to this little round bench at the shopping square and do my crossword puzzle while I drink my coffee. Once in awhile there's a few the homeless at the bench. I'll sit with them and join in their conversation. They know my wife because they see her collecting bottles and cans to recycle. My wife,by the way,makes a pretty good sum of money doing her collecting. Last year she cashed in for over 6 grand. She can't believe you can make that much money picking up trash,not to mention the other goodies she finds. Brand new,and I mean NEW,wristwatches,clothes and shoes of all sorts,folding chairs,bedspreads,pots and pans,and even money. That's just the tip of the iceberg.The homeless are not as energetic as my wife. They collect enough stuff so that when they figure they have enough to buy a bottle of wine,that's enough exercise.
One of the homeless guys at the bench in the morning caught a special interest inside me. He was known to everyone as Lobter Bob. He was quite a bit older than the others. His clothes were greasy and dirty. His iron gray beard was matted and his front teeth were missing.His face had these red blotches on it.They were old and scarred.Looked like he had small pox once. That's probably how he got his name.Lobster Bob. He wore one of those caps that those yacht club guys wear and a scruffed up pair of work boots. He was 6 foot easy,but because of his life style he didn't have much meat on his bones.We got to talking one day and he said something about being a fighter.He told me he once fought George Logan,the same George Logan that beat Ezzard Charles at the end of his career.Lobster Bob said he was from somewhere in the Rocky Mountain area of the states.I guess that's how happened to meet up with George Logan because I believe he was also from that part of the country.
Lobster Bob was a pretty sick fellow when I knew him. I'd ask him what he had goin' on for the day and he'd always answer"Get drunk."His homeless pals said though that Lobster Bob had more going on than just getting juiced up.He was also a junkie.After awhile Lobster Bob didn't show up at that bench anymore. I wondered if something bad had happened to him.Then one day one of the homeless guys filled me in. Lobster Bob had decided to go down to Tijuana and be homeless. They said heroin was cheaper there.
So that was the life Lobster Bob had chiosen. Heroin was all that mattered.He was down there living in one of the massive concrete flood canals of Tijuana located just inside the border. There must have been thousands of homeless living there in those canals. Some were illegals that were dropped off by our immigration at the border. These illegals had no family in Mexico and nowhere to go. Some didn't even speak Spanish. Some were strung out on crack or heroin like Lobster Bob. Some had mental issues and were crazy,Some were dangerous,others were passive and zombie like,but none of them could cut in regular TJ society. Nobody did much for them. They panhandled,stole stuff,or wiped your car windshield with a dirty rag for instance. The locals didn't want them around. They were always getting run over because they'd be all f---ed up and walk into the street. The merchants felt they were dangerous and bad for business. The cops, of course, would beat them up and rob them.
last Monday I was down in TJ getting a painting framed at Esther's Gallery off 4th Avenue. I asked her about the how the homelees in town were affecting business. Esther told me there wasn't much of a problem with them anymore. That had just about all disappeared. The cops had been going down to the flood control canal with wagons herding them inside. I asked what had become of them.Esther shrugged her shoulders and looked up to the ceiling. Nothing in the newspapers or the television. They were just not there anymore.
That's how they do it in Mexico.You just one day disappear. It happens to the street urchins that sniff glue in the big cities.It happened to the 43 students who were going to demonstrate about the mayor's wife that was going to make a speech.It happens to judges and district prosecutors.It happens to anyone who makes waves.It even happened to an American ex pug who fought a guy who fought a guy who was one the great heavyweight champions of the world
You hear all kinds of news about the state of the economy.The Democrats say that the economy is getting better,new jobs are being created,and unemployment is down. They have the data to back it up. Republicans on the other hand, say that Obama hasn't done nothing but raise taxes and we have nothing to show for it. They've also got the data to validate their claims.
I've used as my barometer the number of homeless people I see on the streets.I remember,at least in San Diego,the only homeless to be found anywhere were downtown on lower Market Street near the waterfront. Most of those guys(and they were almost all old men) were winos,not so much down on their luck,but addicted to the grape. However, nowadays you can find the homeless in just about any area of the city. The high end neighborhoods are no exception.But most of the homeless are around the downtown area near the ballpark. That's also where most of the shelters are located.
I'm not going to get into why they are homeless,but you can take this to the bank,there are more homeless around than ever .So that's how I see the state of the economy.The more homeless,the worse the economy. In my neighborhood the homeless are becoming a growing concern. My burg-I guess you would call a tick above the middle class. Me and the wife live in a comfortable condo that has a nice pool and a view of the foothills in the east county.Drive down the hill a half mile and you enter the Mission Bay Park area. Nice, pretty little coves where people swim,picnic,and water ski,just to name a few of the recreational activities. But the homeless are encroaching upon this paradise. You can see them sleeping in front of the library or drinking their wine in back of the shops in the alleys,panhandling on the freeway on ramps,and urinating just about everywhere because just about everywhere you walk you don't have to be dog sniffin' around to know where these guys have left their mark.
In the morning I take my two poodles for a walk and drive through the "drive thru" at McDonalds and order my "senior coffee."I then drive to this little round bench at the shopping square and do my crossword puzzle while I drink my coffee. Once in awhile there's a few the homeless at the bench. I'll sit with them and join in their conversation. They know my wife because they see her collecting bottles and cans to recycle. My wife,by the way,makes a pretty good sum of money doing her collecting. Last year she cashed in for over 6 grand. She can't believe you can make that much money picking up trash,not to mention the other goodies she finds. Brand new,and I mean NEW,wristwatches,clothes and shoes of all sorts,folding chairs,bedspreads,pots and pans,and even money. That's just the tip of the iceberg.The homeless are not as energetic as my wife. They collect enough stuff so that when they figure they have enough to buy a bottle of wine,that's enough exercise.
One of the homeless guys at the bench in the morning caught a special interest inside me. He was known to everyone as Lobter Bob. He was quite a bit older than the others. His clothes were greasy and dirty. His iron gray beard was matted and his front teeth were missing.His face had these red blotches on it.They were old and scarred.Looked like he had small pox once. That's probably how he got his name.Lobster Bob. He wore one of those caps that those yacht club guys wear and a scruffed up pair of work boots. He was 6 foot easy,but because of his life style he didn't have much meat on his bones.We got to talking one day and he said something about being a fighter.He told me he once fought George Logan,the same George Logan that beat Ezzard Charles at the end of his career.Lobster Bob said he was from somewhere in the Rocky Mountain area of the states.I guess that's how happened to meet up with George Logan because I believe he was also from that part of the country.
Lobster Bob was a pretty sick fellow when I knew him. I'd ask him what he had goin' on for the day and he'd always answer"Get drunk."His homeless pals said though that Lobster Bob had more going on than just getting juiced up.He was also a junkie.After awhile Lobster Bob didn't show up at that bench anymore. I wondered if something bad had happened to him.Then one day one of the homeless guys filled me in. Lobster Bob had decided to go down to Tijuana and be homeless. They said heroin was cheaper there.
So that was the life Lobster Bob had chiosen. Heroin was all that mattered.He was down there living in one of the massive concrete flood canals of Tijuana located just inside the border. There must have been thousands of homeless living there in those canals. Some were illegals that were dropped off by our immigration at the border. These illegals had no family in Mexico and nowhere to go. Some didn't even speak Spanish. Some were strung out on crack or heroin like Lobster Bob. Some had mental issues and were crazy,Some were dangerous,others were passive and zombie like,but none of them could cut in regular TJ society. Nobody did much for them. They panhandled,stole stuff,or wiped your car windshield with a dirty rag for instance. The locals didn't want them around. They were always getting run over because they'd be all f---ed up and walk into the street. The merchants felt they were dangerous and bad for business. The cops, of course, would beat them up and rob them.
last Monday I was down in TJ getting a painting framed at Esther's Gallery off 4th Avenue. I asked her about the how the homelees in town were affecting business. Esther told me there wasn't much of a problem with them anymore. That had just about all disappeared. The cops had been going down to the flood control canal with wagons herding them inside. I asked what had become of them.Esther shrugged her shoulders and looked up to the ceiling. Nothing in the newspapers or the television. They were just not there anymore.
That's how they do it in Mexico.You just one day disappear. It happens to the street urchins that sniff glue in the big cities.It happened to the 43 students who were going to demonstrate about the mayor's wife that was going to make a speech.It happens to judges and district prosecutors.It happens to anyone who makes waves.It even happened to an American ex pug who fought a guy who fought a guy who was one the great heavyweight champions of the world
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
An astounding percentage of the American homeless people are mentally ill. Many such people would have been institutionalized sixty or more years ago. With the introduction of psychiatric medication to treat people with very serious mental illnesses such as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and clinical depression, the number of institutionalized people in the United States decreased from about 558,239 in 1955 to 71,619 in 1994.
While psychiatric medication has helped many mentally ill people to live comparatively normal lives outside of institutions, there are many others who can't be treated with medication or simply have gone untreated. It also has become much more difficult to institutionalize people or for impoverished mentally ill individuals to get help from mental health professionals for fiscal and legal reasons. In addition, there are many more legal barriers to arresting or detaining homeless people in recent decades. The result is that the homeless problem, especially when it concerns the mentally ill homeless, has become a chronic one in the United States, seemingly without a viable solution.
- Chuck Johnston
While psychiatric medication has helped many mentally ill people to live comparatively normal lives outside of institutions, there are many others who can't be treated with medication or simply have gone untreated. It also has become much more difficult to institutionalize people or for impoverished mentally ill individuals to get help from mental health professionals for fiscal and legal reasons. In addition, there are many more legal barriers to arresting or detaining homeless people in recent decades. The result is that the homeless problem, especially when it concerns the mentally ill homeless, has become a chronic one in the United States, seemingly without a viable solution.
- Chuck Johnston
Last edited by Chuck1052 on 29 Mar 2015, 23:52, edited 2 times in total.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Me And Henry
Henry Brown was my mentor teacher when I started out in the profession of education.He worked at Juvenile Hall.He'd been there for some time. I figured that dealing with kids that were locked up would be good experience for me when I would finally hook up permanently with the schools down by the border. I'm not saying that those kids in San Ysidro were future law breakers,but getting my feet wet at The Hall would give me good exposure to street wise youth.
I used to play football with Henry on a team called The Ghetto Messengers. I was the only white guy on the team.Prior to being on that team I was a teammate of Henry's brother,Charlie, on the 1968 San Diego City College team.At one time that squad was ranked 1st in the country of junior college football teams.I felt kind of honored that Henry gave me a call one day to ask me to play with the Messengers.
Henry was one of the most soft spoken fellas' I'd ever met.But underneath that demeanor was a toughness and a fighter-literally. Henry fought amateur for awhile.I'd catch him on some of the undercards at the San Diego Coliseum.I don't think he ever lost a fight. He didn't turn pro though.He was going through a divorce and it kind of sidetracked his future with boxing. By the time everything settled out Henry started working at The Hall.That's where we reconnected.
I felt bad for Henry. His son got in trouble and was in prison. I never inquired what had happened, and Henry never offered an explanation.Henry's wife was Italian and he would always get a big kick out of going to my parents' house to eat lasagne. Lasagne was Henry's favorite.Another favorite with Henry was music,-especially jazz music.When an artist came to town,me and Henry would take in a couple of sets.
During the mid/ late 60's jazz was becoming an extinct animal. At least the quality was getting to be hit or miss. There were a couple of good clubs in San Diego,Ward's Jazzville(that was on upper Market Street in the heart of Logan.It later moved to 12th and Broadway downtown.)Because the club catered to the "brothers" the ABC and the vice squad were constantly in the joint.It was eventually closed down for various sordid crimes. Later the place was turned into Spud Murphy's Gym.
Me and Henry heard some pretty good sounds coming out of Jazzville. Modern Jazz Quintet,jimmy Smith,Dizzy Gillespie,Mose Allison,and Cannonball Adderley to name some .However,the thing about black musicians like these guy playing in a "black club"you knew you were going to hear the best they could serve up.
Me and Henry used to joke about it a lot. When black jazz musicians would play at the "white "venues in LaJolla or Shelter Island we'd pass. One time I went hear Jimmy Smith play his Hammond B3 at a club in North Park. The place was full of yuppies and college types. Man,what a rip off!All Smith did was lean on some psychedelic chords making all these facial expressions like he was really "into" what he was doing.All he was doing was deliberately ripping everyone off.But all these idiots that were there cheered and roared and gave him a standing ovation after the racket was over. Smith must have laughed all the over to the box office to pick up his check.What makes me see it this way?Well, I remember one time me and Henry took in a session at Jazzville one summer evening. Smith walked onto the bandstand ,sat down at the organ, and peered over the audience. He saw me sitting with Henry.
"I see we have a 'cracker' in the audience,"he announced.
"I'm not white,"I retorted,"I'm a albino."
Smith broke up.
"Well,that means I gotta play it on the level tonight. If I fake it,these colored folk would let me know about it.You see, when I was in the Navy in San Diego,the white folk were pretty rough on me here. So when I play at their clubs I give them bulls--t."
But I guess "whitey' didn't know the difference that night in North Park,But that night at Jazzville, after Jimmy Smith went through his set playing like a house on fire, he got roars and cheers and another standing ovation. He knew he couldn't fool those "colored folks",and besides,he no intentions doing such a thing anyway.
Billie Holiday
Henry Brown was my mentor teacher when I started out in the profession of education.He worked at Juvenile Hall.He'd been there for some time. I figured that dealing with kids that were locked up would be good experience for me when I would finally hook up permanently with the schools down by the border. I'm not saying that those kids in San Ysidro were future law breakers,but getting my feet wet at The Hall would give me good exposure to street wise youth.
I used to play football with Henry on a team called The Ghetto Messengers. I was the only white guy on the team.Prior to being on that team I was a teammate of Henry's brother,Charlie, on the 1968 San Diego City College team.At one time that squad was ranked 1st in the country of junior college football teams.I felt kind of honored that Henry gave me a call one day to ask me to play with the Messengers.
Henry was one of the most soft spoken fellas' I'd ever met.But underneath that demeanor was a toughness and a fighter-literally. Henry fought amateur for awhile.I'd catch him on some of the undercards at the San Diego Coliseum.I don't think he ever lost a fight. He didn't turn pro though.He was going through a divorce and it kind of sidetracked his future with boxing. By the time everything settled out Henry started working at The Hall.That's where we reconnected.
I felt bad for Henry. His son got in trouble and was in prison. I never inquired what had happened, and Henry never offered an explanation.Henry's wife was Italian and he would always get a big kick out of going to my parents' house to eat lasagne. Lasagne was Henry's favorite.Another favorite with Henry was music,-especially jazz music.When an artist came to town,me and Henry would take in a couple of sets.
During the mid/ late 60's jazz was becoming an extinct animal. At least the quality was getting to be hit or miss. There were a couple of good clubs in San Diego,Ward's Jazzville(that was on upper Market Street in the heart of Logan.It later moved to 12th and Broadway downtown.)Because the club catered to the "brothers" the ABC and the vice squad were constantly in the joint.It was eventually closed down for various sordid crimes. Later the place was turned into Spud Murphy's Gym.
Me and Henry heard some pretty good sounds coming out of Jazzville. Modern Jazz Quintet,jimmy Smith,Dizzy Gillespie,Mose Allison,and Cannonball Adderley to name some .However,the thing about black musicians like these guy playing in a "black club"you knew you were going to hear the best they could serve up.
Me and Henry used to joke about it a lot. When black jazz musicians would play at the "white "venues in LaJolla or Shelter Island we'd pass. One time I went hear Jimmy Smith play his Hammond B3 at a club in North Park. The place was full of yuppies and college types. Man,what a rip off!All Smith did was lean on some psychedelic chords making all these facial expressions like he was really "into" what he was doing.All he was doing was deliberately ripping everyone off.But all these idiots that were there cheered and roared and gave him a standing ovation after the racket was over. Smith must have laughed all the over to the box office to pick up his check.What makes me see it this way?Well, I remember one time me and Henry took in a session at Jazzville one summer evening. Smith walked onto the bandstand ,sat down at the organ, and peered over the audience. He saw me sitting with Henry.
"I see we have a 'cracker' in the audience,"he announced.
"I'm not white,"I retorted,"I'm a albino."
Smith broke up.
"Well,that means I gotta play it on the level tonight. If I fake it,these colored folk would let me know about it.You see, when I was in the Navy in San Diego,the white folk were pretty rough on me here. So when I play at their clubs I give them bulls--t."
But I guess "whitey' didn't know the difference that night in North Park,But that night at Jazzville, after Jimmy Smith went through his set playing like a house on fire, he got roars and cheers and another standing ovation. He knew he couldn't fool those "colored folks",and besides,he no intentions doing such a thing anyway.
Billie Holiday