Classic American West Coast Boxing

[dagosd2000]

The Award

I read where the Nevada Boxing Hall of Fame will have their third annual ceremony coming up soon.Rich Marotta,popular boxing sportscaster and California Hall of Fame inductee,heads up the organization and expects the 1,000 invites to the Caesars Palace venue to be an overwhelming success.Lennox Lewis,Mike Tyson,Ray Leonard,and Marvin Hagler will be on the dais.Las Vegas and Caesars Palace are synonymous with ardent fight fans who are more than willing to pay top dollar to watch a fight.

Las Vegas,however,isn't a city where young up and comers begin their rise to the top.Beginnings are often nurtured in the arenas of Culiacan,Mexico and San Antonio,Texas. Once a hopeful earns his status as a contender,one of the big time promoters will step in and then it's off to Las Vegas.

Out here in Southern California ,where many of the all time greats went through their baptisms of fire and then eventually won their belts at the Forum or the Olympic Auditorium, many of the ex pugilists stayed in town. There are several California organizations that live hand to mouth to have events to honor the Southland fighter.It's been tough to raise funds for these homages.The World Boxing Hall of Fame sadly met its demise several years ago.The money wasn't there. Las Vegas,when there is a big fight,has the juice.So a Nevada Boxing Hall of Fame ,I guess,is apropos and successful.

I've always enjoyed going to the lunches and dinners honoring the boxers I grew up with living in the Southland,but lately those nice feelings have turned bittersweet in my mind.Regardless, if they're honoring fighters in Las Vegas ,Nevada or Las Vegas,New Mexico you can see that many of the fellas are living on hard times.My first Southern California event was a boxing father and son luncheon at Stevens Steak House eight years ago just outside LA. proper. I was shocked to see the condition of Mando Ramos.He was there with his dad,Ray. Mando was very overweight was going through some bad medical issues.I didn't recognize him except that someone pointed him out to me. Shortly after that event he passed away.Sure, the drug and alcohol abuse played a major part of his demise,but that was something going on with him during his career. Jackie McCoy had to rescue him from a drug induced stupor the night before he lost his title to Chango Carmona.

I saw Bobby Chacon deteriorate over the years.He behaves like a little kid,but like a child he can't leave the house by himself. Today he's institutionalized in a home,a medical facilty.Sometime back they found Indian Red Lopez in a homeless shelter somewhere in the Midwest.His family relocated him back to Los Angeles,but the physical toll of taking too many shots shortened his life. In May, at the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame Banquet, I saw his brother,Little Red.The delayed effects of the dementia are creeping into his person.It's tough to watch as each year the sickness becomes more enveloping.

These gutsy guys get up there to receive their honors.They show snippets of film of their historic fights before presenting the award. The audience is enthralled,but then I look at Little Red while the people are mesmerized on the action on the screen.He's seems detached from it all.He's introduced with a rousing speech and then he's handed his plaque. He modestly speaks.He's a kind man.He's fragile.His wife,Bonnie looks at him very protectively like she's guarding him from some threat. A guy who could hurt you with either hand now has to be shielded from the real world. He talks in a voice that's almost inaudible.His speech is slow and drawn. The room sobers down.Everyone wants to protect him.They see how he is now.Like his wife, they don't want to see him get hurt,but he is.Some big lug at the back of the room shouts,"We still love you Danny."I guess that's all we can do anymore.



Howie Steindler,the manager of Little Red .


Danny"Little Red"Lopez in his fighting trim

[BoxBuzz]

I'm so humbled to run my eyes over this stuff that I rarely if ever chime in......and though I've alluded to it before, I'm more and more certain that this is the best single boxing related thread in the world. Period bar none. There is more boxing related history in these 1600+ pages than you can shake a stick at. (An old saying my dad would use).

[dagosd2000]

No Mas

At a recent fight at the Sheraton in San Diego I ran across my old buddy Jose Cobian. He had just been promoted to head custodian at the school I was teaching at.The previous head custodian,Gabriel,had finally retired.It always made me wonder that whenever there was a Mexican head custodian in charge of other Mexicans working under him there was always friction.Cobian never liked Gabriel and all the rest of the Mexican gardeners and custodians under Gabriel's authority never liked him either. For reasons I could never understand,they just didn't like him. He'd tell them to do something and they would all complain. Now it was Cobian's turn in the barrel.
"How's things at the school Jose?"I asked him.
Jose also moonlighted as a Southland referee.That was what he was preparing for that night at the Sheraton.
"I've got a bunch of little pricks I have do deal with everyday.They always give me a hard time,"he answered as he was sitting at ringside going over the evening's fight card.
"You still refereeing in TJ?"
"I quit that. Those promoters down there are snakes."
"They steal better than Pancho Villa.
"Better than Villa."
I laughed.I knew what he meant.
"The last fight I worked at Pulgas,I got less than 200 pesos(around 15 bucks).Promoter said the gate was disappointing."
"I bet he got his cut,"I added.
"Of course."
"How many fights you working tonight?"I asked.
"Every other.The commission keeps me busy."
I could see that the ballroom was starting to fill up.
"You know things are just getting worse down there,"said Cobian."A few years ago my wife and myself bought a house in Libertad. We wanted to do the Mexican thing. Have a place in TJ.But the way things are now I have to be careful.Here.I'll show you a picture of our place.
Cobian pulled out a snapshot of his house from his wallet.
"This is the patio,"he said."We even have the fountain,"he went on smiling.
There was one of those big round granite fountains that was typical of many patios in Mexico.
"You see.Real Mexican,"Cobian went on laughing.
"Mexico needs a change,but it will never happen,"I said.
"We just learn to live with it,"said Cobian as he put down the fight program.

A change all right. Mexico needs a change,but where will it come from?The drug cartels changed it and they won't let go.Now everyone answers to them from the president on down.Cobian mentioned Pancho Villa. Yeah,if he was around he'd be pissed off. He'd start a revolution,but he wouldn't get far. You need the United States in your corner if you're going to make a move. At the beginning of the Mexican Ravolution of 1910,Villa was buying arms from the U.S. Then when he fell out of favor,President Wilson gave the OK for Carranza's troops to come in the back door from the U.S. side and ambush Villa's army at Agua Prieta.Without the go ahead from the gringos,Mexico doesn't make a move.We like Mexico the way it is. Forget Donald Trump.He may know how to blow your money on land schemes,but he knows nothing about how the U.S. and Mexico are in bed with each other. The soldiers in Meico carry U.S. guns. There ain't no way we'd supply any rebel force down there with M16's.We get from Mexico what we want( cheap goods and natural resources) and they send (through the compliments of our embassy)DOCUMENTED aliens.Forget the illegals. I cross the border several times a week. The line back into the U.S. is a mile long. I'm gussing 99% percent of the people in those lines are Mexican. Where do they get their papers to cross?From us.So build a wall Trump.It will be the biggest waste of money since wanting to invest in one of your golf courses in Scotland.

Last night I had to go down to Tijuana to pick up my wife and sister in law at the airport. They had spent three weeks in Michoacán visiting family. I drove my sister in law to her place in town. It was late.The street was very dark. Hardly any traffic .Not a soul walking around.She called on her cell phone for someone to come downstairs from her apartment to help carry up her luggage.A man came downstairs and unlocked the glass door.
"That's Fernando,"my wife said."You know.The son of Jesus."
"Oh yeah,now I recognize him."
Before grabbing the luggage,he ran up to me and gave me a good abrazo.
"Hola amigo,"I said."How's it going?"
He bowed his head smiling and picked uo the suitcases and walked back inside the apartment.As we were driving back to the border, my wife asked,"Where's Tennessee?"
"Why?"I answered.
"He go tomorrow to the United States. Him and his wife.They go Tennessee."
"Did they pay a coyote?"
"!0,000 dollars. All the money they have and their family."
I drove down the unlit street silently wondering about what they had to look forward to.
"He have brother in Tennessee,"said my wife.
"Welll that's good."
"Tell me,"said my wife. "Is Tennessee far."
"Yes,"I answered. Tennessee is very far away."



The Centaur of The North,Doroteo Arango,aka Pancho Villa

[dagosd2000]

Big Head

I'll never forget the first time I saw him. I was with Bonifacio,my cab driver friend.He lived across the street from my daughter's place in TJ with his girlfriend,the woman who introduced me to my future wife.We'd been drinking at the house and after getting a good buzz on we decided to go to the fights at the Municipal Auditorium.I didn't know who was on the card that night.It didn't really matter.The auditorium in Tijuana is one of the last of the old time venues where everything falls into place for a boxing matche.All the famous fighters in Mexico had put on a show there at one time or another.It was at the Municipal Auditorium where I first saw Mantequilla Napoles fight a journeyman by the name of Herbie Lee.As soon as I saw Napoles climb through the ropes I knew there was something special.But I'm not talking about Mantequilla now.There was another fighter I want to paint a picture of that I want you to know.As stylish and majestic Mantequilla looked when entering the ring,the guy I want to talk about had a much different presence.There's not going to be a judgement made here.If you see the contrast that's enough.The impact is just as powerful,and in this fighter's case,poignant.

The fighter I saw that night walking down the aisle to the ring had a limp.Though the towel on top of his head partly masked his face you could see he was old,not just old looking,but in the flesh old. When he removed the towel you could see the gray hair that permeated the high crew cut.You could see his face had been worked over,the aftermath of fighting in just about every ring in the republic.A heavy square jaw plopped on a thick neck.His neck had to be strong because the head was so enormous.If you're an aficionado you know who I'm describing.The old fighter that limped in the ring,The fighter who told of all those pugilistic battles on his face that fronted that big head."Maceton "Cabrera.That was what they knew him as,the big head, translated into Mexican,"Maceton."

Now remember I want to get this right. I want to be careful . No more exploitation to get some laughs.Looking back it wasn't funny at all.It was beautiful even. I wondered how he could get a license to step inside a ring,but he was there and the crowd had paid their money."Maceton" was to take on the local,Marcos Geraldo.He was no slouch. He'd fought Hearns and Leonard,taking Sugar Ray into the end of the final round.I'd seen him fight at the San Diego Coliseum.He could bring it on.He knew what he was doing in there.As for "Maceton",I just hoped he wouldn't fall down in the first round and call it quits.

By the time the fight started me and Bonifacio had drunk enough beer that we fit right into the pandemonium inside the arena. Mexican fight fans are the best.It's like celebrating their Fiestas Patrias and the New Year all rolled into one.Dead snakes are thrown into the ring(Gato Gonzalez told me once when he was fighting somewhere in the interior of Mexico and a good hearted soul threw in a live rattler on the mat),blood soaked women's underpants are tossed around ringside. Firecrackers go off.Unpopular decisions are responded with bottles of beer hurled at the unfortunate winner.Fist fights are common.Knife fights less,and oh yes,I've heard a pistol shot or two.

Anyway the fight commences and I'm waiting to see Marcos just tap the old guy in the "panza" and collect his money.But the old fighter is a fighter.He's coming in dragging his bum leg like the Frankenstein Monster and clubbing Geraldo.Marcos looks uninterested in the whole thing. Now I know he was involved in some "flops" in Mexico and had his license pulled. Maybe that was what was going on that night.Me and Bonifacio are plenty drunk by now,but I'm all worked up. This can't be ,so after the seventh round I reel over to Geraldo's corner and interject instructions with a mouthful of beer breath.
"Hit this guy in the stomach!"I says.
His corner looks at me like I'm a fly on the wall and I stagger back to my seat. Bonifacio could have cared less. At the bell "Maceton" plods forward.Geraldo shows him the jab then hooks downstairs. "Maceton" goes down like a sack of cement and rolls on his side.The crowd is going wild.There's no way "Maceton" is going to beat the count. Everybody is satisfied.Marcos carried him like Mother Dionne so the wise guys were happy.

It's funny that most of the attention is focused on the winning corner. I like to look at what's going on in the loser's end. "Maceton's" handlers put the towel on top of his head. He gathered himself on his stool.He acted like everything was all right.Don't worry about me.It's happened before and it will happen again. He pulled himself together and walked with that limp back up the aisle to the dressing room.He reminded me of the the fighter,Lucero ,played by a real fighter Sixto Rodriguez in that movie Fat City after he lost to the local hero,Tully,played by Stacy Keach.Now he'd go back on the bus and try it again in another guy's hometowm.Maybe he'd win next time.

Even though "Maceton" was not the crowd favorite,he had their respect,even their hearts. In Mexico,it's not so bad to be ugly. It's a masculine virtue even.A "pretty boy" is just that.Chavez.the dad, prided himself on not being a fashion plate.A broken nose,scartissue around the eyes,a heavy square jaw,hair streaked with gray,even one gimpy leg, all are worn like medals in a way. It shows them that he could take it .Maybe that's just as good as being able to hand it out.



"Maceton" Cabrera

[Chuck1052]

I remember seeing "Maceton" Cabrera fighting on a Los Angeles Spanish language channel. Yes, he had that limp and was far from being skillful, but seemed very game and did give the crowd more than its money's worth. If I were a promoter or a matchmaker, "Maceton" would have been more than welcome to fight on my shows on a regular basis.

- Chuck Johnston

Note- According to his record and page on BoxRec, David "El Maceton" Cabrera was born about 1937 in Juchitan, Oaxaca, Mexico and died at the age of 73 December 12, 2010. He was a motorcycle policeman until his career ended due to a motorcycle accident. After the accident, "Maceton" couldn't bend his right knee, resulting in him having a stiff leg. He was known for his crew-cut and one-punch knockout power. When knocked down, "Maceton" had difficulty getting up from the canvas due to his stiff leg.

According to his obituary, "Maceton" had a total of 159 bouts. His record on BoxRec shows that in 54 bouts, "Maceton" had 41 wins (including 33 knockouts) and 13 losses (11 of them by knockout). If "Maceton" was born about 1937, that would mean he was about 40 years old when his first known bout took place in 1977 and about 53 when fighting in his last bout.

[dagosd2000]

White Gloves

"That's pretty music,"I said to Esther as I walked inside her gallery.
"It's the music of Tijuana of the 1940's ",she said.
My wife went shopping for flour tortillas and meat at her favorite tortillaria and carniceria on the other side of Revolution Street.I don't like going with her because she takes all day.Besides,she doesn't appreciate me hurrying her so the feeling is mutual.So when we go downtown I usually bring one of my paintings to be framed at Esthers.I've been bringing her my business for years.I showed her my painting of a Mexican village.
"I like that.All the different colors.That's twenty four by thirty ,"she said without measuring the size of the canvas.Her daughter Rosa went to the back room and brought out several different 24 by 30 frames.
"Maybe you would like the darker frame,"said her daughter.
Esther then placed a frame with a tint of gold color around the painting.
"I think I'll go with the gold color,"I said to her daughter.
"Yes,it brings out the colors better,"Rosa said.
Esther told me to come back at the usual time.It would be ready in twenty minutes.I walked down to the corner paleta stand and ordered a lime agua fresca and sat at a table watching the street traffic and the people walking in the street.After slowly sipping my drink I walked back to Esthers.When I entered the shop the music was still playing.
"That was the epoca de oro,"I said to Esther.
Esther was very matronly by now.There was an old black and white photograph on the counter of her with her many children .She is holding a baby.She looks like she was having difficulty keeping him still. Her husband is standing off to the side.Her husband suffered a stroke and was incapacitated before he died ten years later.That was before I met Esther. She told me she opened her shop when her husband got sick. Later,her daughter Rosa came in to help Esther run the business.
"I remember when I came to Tijuana in the 40's ,"she said."The Caesar Hotel was very elegant then.The shops along Revolution Street sold imported clothes.The restaurants were wonderful to dine in."
"Remember the glass blowing shop where you could sit and watch them make the blown glass?"
"The Jai Alai Palace was across the street.The Caliente Race Track was the most beautiful racetrack in the world before they burned it down."
"They wanted Alessio out of there,"I said."I was the there on the last day of races.The next Monday morning it was burned to the ground."
"I remember when the American ladies came to Tijuana wearing white gloves."
"Those must have been wonderful days,"I said.
"And the gentlemen all wore hats."
Rosa came out of the back room with my painting expertly framed.They even wrapped paper on the corners to prevent accidental scraping.
"Where is the music coming from?"I asked Esther.
"Rosa has it on the computer on the desk,"she said smiling.
I remember listening to that Golden Age of Mexican music for the first times.The girls in the cantinas working in the Coahuila would ask for quarters and play the music on the jukebox.It was back then that heard the Trio De Los Panchos,Los Tecolines,Pedro Infante,Jorge Negrete,Lucha Villa,and Lupita Palomera. Yes,that music was very beautiful.However, I didn't want to tell Esther where I got my introduction to that Golden Age of Mexican music. But now that I think of it,she wouldn't care if I told her. Why that's where most Mexican men listened to those songs.The cantina is as much a part of the history of Mexico as their music. What would be the cantina without the music,and of course the women?I'm sure Esther understands. When I told her about when I visited Mantequilla Napoles last year in Juarez,she laughed.
"Oh yes,I remember him.He was muy macho.He had many novias."
I wouldn't be surprised if her husband had a few on the side too.


Old Mexico

[Chuck1052]

There are going to be two professional boxing shows staged in the Los Angeles area tomorrow night, one at Staples Center in Los Angeles and the other at the Forum in Inglewood. The Staples Center show features Leo Santa Cruz and Abner Mares in the vacant WBA version of the super featherweight title, which is going to be shown live on ESPN, while the Forum show features a rematch between two former world champions in their early 40s, Sugar Shane Mosley and Ricardo Mayorga, which is going to be shown live on Pay-Per-View television. Why would there be boxing shows staged at two major venues on the same night in the Los Angeles area? It is bad enough having boxing shows on two television networks on the same night.

- Chuck Johnston

[scartissue]

Chuck, I saw the Santa Cruz-Mares fight, which was pretty damn good, but couldn't see the Mosley-Mayorga being a PPV. I wouldn't shell out money for a Mayweather fight as all of his fights are safety-first dull as dishwater. But any idea how Mosley-Mayorga was action-wise??

[Chuck1052]

Chuck, I saw the Santa Cruz-Mares fight, which was pretty damn good, but couldn't see the Mosley-Mayorga being a PPV. I wouldn't shell out money for a Mayweather fight as all of his fights are safety-first dull as dishwater. But any idea how Mosley-Mayorga was action-wise??

scartissue, I didn't see the rematch between Sugar Shane Mosley and Ricardo Mayorga, so I can't say if it was an exciting bout. Both Mosley and Mayorga are over 40 years of age and virtual shells of their former selves, so I wasn't going to pay money or go out of my way to see it. Laws prohibiting age discrimination are great in the vast majority of cases, but such laws have wreaked havoc in boxing with a very large percentage of professional boxers fighting far past their prime and well into their forties.

According to a report in today's edition of the Los Angeles Times about the boxing show featuring the rematch between Mosley and Mayorga, there were plenty of empty seats at the Forum in Inglewood. Also in the same article, Mosley was quoted as saying that he personally put one million dollars into the show. If he was paying that much out of his pocket, why was the show being scheduled on the same day as the boxing show at the Staples Center in nearby Los Angeles? Heck! I had read that Mosley wasn't financially set, so I am amazed that he had as much as a million dollars.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

I Want To Be Your Salty Dog


I didn't feel like watching the Chargers play an exhibition game on television so I thought I'd take a spin down to Tijuana to see the fights. Prince Smalls,Tiger's son, was on the card so that added to my motivation.Besides it's something different,at least to the average sports fan. The fights took place place at the Billares Perro Salado Bar on lower 9th Street across from the Mercado Hidalgo. I'd never been there before,but knowing how to get there didn't present a problem. I pulled up to the parking gate and pressed the button on the machine.This kind of security is becoming more common in Tijuana.Car thieves are not likely to steal a car that's in a lot that's protected by a gate and a guard.

The Perro Salado is typical of the small boxing venues that are opening up across the border.It doesn't cost an arm and a leg to go to the fights in a place like the Perro Salado. They cleared out the pool tables and put up a ring.Plastic chairs were strewn around the ring and there's a long bar just inside the entrance.It was packed to the doors Saturday night so I counted heads and came up with around 200 paying customers.It was hot and close inside. The ceiling was low and even though they had the ceiling fans running, all they did was blow the hot air around. I didn't hesitate to get one of the waitresses attention to bring me a cold bottle of Tecate.

The amateur card began around eight.There were two girl fights with a three round boys fight sandwiched in between. None of the participants were shy about throwing leather.I would have scored all the amateur bouts a draw,but they all went to the winners on decisions. The losing girls tried to keep stiff upper lips and were consoled by their parents. The girls looked like sweet little kids.

There was a break before the pros went into battle. An African American girl came up to me and asked me if the seats next to me were taken.I said they weren't so her and this other Black guy sat next to me.I call her a girl but she wasn't a delicate little thing like the senoritas that had just fought. This gal was big,but not fat.She had muscles.She reminded me of Muhammad Ali's daughter who was the fighter ,and she was as good looking like Laila Ali.

I don't know how it got started,but the Mexican girls who had just fought went up to the Black gal and began talking to her.The Black gal was was flustered because she couldn't understand what they were saying. I intervened and asked the Mexican girls what they were saying. They said they wanted to know how many fights the Black gal had.I asked the Black if she was a fighter.She told me she was an amateur fighter.She said she had 50 fights. Then the Black gal asked me to ask the Mexican girls how many fights they had had. One answered three.The other three said that tonight was there first time in the ring. The Mexican girls then wanted their pictures taken with the Black gal.She was more than happy to pose with them.The Black gal told me to tell the Mexican girls to train real hard and wished them all the luck in the world.

After the Mexican girls returned to their seats I looked around to get a feel of what was going on.Flat screen TVs were hung around the bar. The sound was turned off,but I could see that the Santa Cruz/Mares fight was about to begin.Julio Cesar Chavez and Marco Antonio Barrera were handling the Mexican feed.As I looked around I didn't see many people taking interest in the fight. On some of the other screens was the Mosley/Mayorga fight. Ditto:not many paying attention to this either. There was little more heads focused on the the local Tijuana soccer team,the Xolis,playing at the Aguas Caliente Stadium against the Monarchas of Morelia. But like I said, the sound was turned off.Maybe that had something to do with it. Once in awhile I'd glance up. The Santa Cruz/Mares fight looked pretty good,but I didn't catch who won. Nothing great stood out between Mosley and Mayorga except that I noticed Mosley was lean ' Must have put down the needle for this one. Mayorga must have had jock itch because he kept grabbing his balls.The Tijuana team was ahead 2 to 1 when I last looked at the score.

Prince Smalls entered the ring to start the first of eight pro fights. I was glad because I wanted to get out of there early. I caught Tiger's attention as he walked to the ring with the entourage. I think I surprised him.
"Hey Roger ,I want you to know that we got something lined up in Del Mar in October,"he blurted."I'll let you know later."
I guess I might be included in Prince's entourage so to speak. He has a small,but enthusiastic following wherever he fights. He's fought nine times and I've been there to see six of them.

The Smalls usually carry a big Puerto Rican flag into the ring,but Saturday night there was no bandera.A Puerto Rican Flag wouldn't exactly win the hearts and minds of the aficianados.I had looked up the record of Prince's Mexican opponent. Four fights,knocked out in every one of them.The gong sounded and I reached for my camera.I heard a slight roar.When I looked up the Mexican kid was doing a backward somersault.He reluctantly got up and put up his gloves.I tried to find him in my view finder. I finally located him sprawled out on the canvas again. The referee waved it off right then and there.But I did get a shot of Prince going back to his corner.

I turned to the Black gal sitting next to me. I asked her if she was there to see Prince fight. She said that she was there to see a friend fight.I looked at the program. I recogniozed another Amercan name,Troy King. I pointed to the program.
"Is this your friend?"I asked.
"Yes he is,"she answered with a beautiful smile."We're both from the Bay Area."
"When do you fight again?"
"I go to Poland tomorrow. I've qualified for the U.S Olympic Team. I want to win the Gold in Rio next year."
She was very beautiful and gracious.She seemed at home.
"Well I hope you win,"I said. "I must be going.What's your name?"
"My name is Raquel Miller."
The Black guy next to her extended his hand and told me his name,but I forget it when I started walking back to my car,but I do remember that he said that he was also a fighter.

As I walked back to my car I noticed a good size crown outside the Perro Salado.They were looking through the window at the fights.I started doing the math.Eight pro fights. That meant 16 pro fighters having to split what the promoter thought it was worth to them. 200 heads at eight bucks a pop. After the promoter gets his and then the managers,the refs and judges,and finally the Perro Salado it's hardly covers the gas to get down there.But it's the name of the game.The fights in those bars and clubs in TJ are like the cards in San Diego in the hotels and at the Del Mar Racetrack.You're lucky to see a ten rounder. The skill levels are a bit wanting. There's a lot of mismatches.But the crowds act like they are having a good time.They'll keep coming back.If I had my way I'd rather see the fights down in TJ.It seems more natural.I wonder how much gas you burn up driving down from San Francisco?

The ring at The Perro Salado


Tiger Smalls

The Perro Salado



Prince Smalls after making short work of his opponent



"Hey man,you want to take a free look?"

[dagosd2000]

Uncle Joe

The school where I worked was a school within a school. It was a school for kids who were at risk of failing. Located inside a bungalow,the "Learning Center" as it was called, was situated on the the far end of the regular school's campus.Although the district wanted our students to become eventually "mainstreamed",they segregated our place from the rest of the student population. The kids at the Learning Center couldn't socialize with the regular student population whether it had to do with eating lunch with them or participating in sports programs.They couldn't even go to school dances. Our students had to enter campus at a gate near the back end of the main high school,and when their class ended ,they had to leave the school immediately. All this exclusion just made for more feelings of alienation.

Inside that bungalow were four teachers(which I was one),a counselor,lab technician,and a secretary.I liked the self containment.We were exempt from attending teachers' meetings after school,district trainings seminars,putting students through the rigors of standardized tests,and to put it bluntly,all the rest of the bureaucratic b.s. One time our secretary needed some time off to attend the funeral of one of her uncles. She told me before she left that her uncle had once been a fighter in Mexico.The secretary's name was Aurora. She wore glasses and was ,I believe,a few years older than me.She could be a real pain in the ass.She complined a lot and could suck the life out of you with her negativity,but I noticed when she had come back from her uncle's funeral she had mellowed down a bit.
"How did things go Aurora?"I asked her as she was at her desk putting things in order.
"It was very nice.Most of the family was there."
"I follow boxing a little,"I mentioned to her."Who was you uncle?(not figuring I'd recognize his name).
"His name was Joe Conde."
"The Joe Conde who fought in the 1930's?"
"Yes.He fought Baby Casanova and Juan Zurita.My father would always talk about him and those fights,I only remember my uncle after he had retired from boxing.I was just a little girl at the time."
"He was very famous in Mexico,"I said.
"I heard the fans would fill the Arena Coliseo in Mexico City when he fought,"said Aurora looking through me.
"He was a legend in Mexico.He mnust have fought in every town in the republic and had over 200 hundred fights."
"I remember when he'd come over to the house.He'd take me and my sisters to the park and buy us ice cream .People would recognize him and then he'd buy ice cream for everyone."
"I heard he was quite a ladies' man,"I said.
"Oh yes,he liked women,but he was a fighter and a Mexican.That's to be expected."
"I've read about that era in Mexico.Everything was much more romantic,"I said.
"It was a time when the children still had respect for their parents,"said Aurora.
"It's even changing in Mexico,but not like here in the United States."
"When my uncle came over to the house he would like to sit with the men and drink and he'd talk about his fights. My father and my other uncles admired him greatly.My uncle knew many interesting stories and had a way of telling them that captivated an audience,"said Aurora.
"I would have liked to have listened to what he had to say."
"When he described his fights with Zurita,it was like you were there inside the ring with him."
"You must miss him,"I said.
"Yes.He was a man's man.You don't see those kind around much anymore."



Juan Zurita

[scartissue]

Uncle Joe

The school where I worked was a school within a school. It was a school for kids who were at risk of failing. Located inside a bungalow,the "Learning Center" as it was called, was situated on the the far end of the regular school's campus.Although the district wanted our students to become eventually "mainstreamed",they segregated our place from the rest of the student population. The kids at the Learning Center couldn't socialize with the regular student population whether it had to do with eating lunch with them or participating in sports programs.They couldn't even go to school dances. Our students had to enter campus at a gate near the back end of the main high school,and when their class ended ,they had to leave the school immediately. All this exclusion just made for more feelings of alienation.

Inside that bungalow were four teachers(which I was one),a counselor,lab technician,and a secretary.I liked the self containment.We were exempt from attending teachers' meetings after school,district trainings seminars,putting students through the rigors of standardized tests,and to put it bluntly,all the rest of the bureaucratic b.s. One time our secretary needed some time off to attend the funeral of one of her uncles. She told me before she left that her uncle had once been a fighter in Mexico.The secretary's name was Aurora. She wore glasses and was ,I believe,a few years older than me.She could be a real pain in the ass.She complined a lot and could suck the life out of you with her negativity,but I noticed when she had come back from her uncle's funeral she had mellowed down a bit.
"How did things go Aurora?"I asked her as she was at her desk putting things in order.
"It was very nice.Most of the family was there."
"I follow boxing a little,"I mentioned to her."Who was you uncle?(not figuring I'd recognize his name).
"His name was Joe Conde."
"The Joe Conde who fought in the 1930's?"
"Yes.He fought Baby Casanova and Juan Zurita.My father would always talk about him and those fights,I only remember my uncle after he had retired from boxing.I was just a little girl at the time."
"He was very famous in Mexico,"I said.
"I heard the fans would fill the Arena Coliseo in Mexico City when he fought,"said Aurora looking through me.
"He was a legend in Mexico.He mnust have fought in every town in the republic and had over 200 hundred fights."
"I remember when he'd come over to the house.He'd take me and my sisters to the park and buy us ice cream .People would recognize him and then he'd buy ice cream for everyone."
"I heard he was quite a ladies' man,"I said.
"Oh yes,he liked women,but he was a fighter and a Mexican.That's to be expected."
"I've read about that era in Mexico.Everything was much more romantic,"I said.
"It was a time when the children still had respect for their parents,"said Aurora.
"It's even changing in Mexico,but not like here in the United States."
"When my uncle came over to the house he would like to sit with the men and drink and he'd talk about his fights. My father and my other uncles admired him greatly.My uncle knew many interesting stories and had a way of telling them that captivated an audience,"said Aurora.
"I would have liked to have listened to what he had to say."
"When he described his fights with Zurita,it was like you were there inside the ring with him."
"You must miss him,"I said.
"Yes.He was a man's man.You don't see those kind around much anymore."



Juan Zurita

Rog, you piqued my interest with Joe Conde and I had to look him up. Aside from wins over Zurita and Casanova, he also beat Henry Armstrong, Jackie Wilson, Frankie Covelli and even Ginger Foran. When i saw Foran's name I thought boxrec must've made a mistake. What would a Liverpudlian be doing down Mexico way? But it is correct. Foran made this big U.S. tour and went down to Mexico for a couple of fights as well, where Conde beat him. Conde had an extensive record and it is apparent, unlike fighters of today, a loss wasn't a career ending incident.

[dagosd2000]

Uncle Joe

The school where I worked was a school within a school. It was a school for kids who were at risk of failing. Located inside a bungalow,the "Learning Center" as it was called, was situated on the the far end of the regular school's campus.Although the district wanted our students to become eventually "mainstreamed",they segregated our place from the rest of the student population. The kids at the Learning Center couldn't socialize with the regular student population whether it had to do with eating lunch with them or participating in sports programs.They couldn't even go to school dances. Our students had to enter campus at a gate near the back end of the main high school,and when their class ended ,they had to leave the school immediately. All this exclusion just made for more feelings of alienation.

Inside that bungalow were four teachers(which I was one),a counselor,lab technician,and a secretary.I liked the self containment.We were exempt from attending teachers' meetings after school,district trainings seminars,putting students through the rigors of standardized tests,and to put it bluntly,all the rest of the bureaucratic b.s. One time our secretary needed some time off to attend the funeral of one of her uncles. She told me before she left that her uncle had once been a fighter in Mexico.The secretary's name was Aurora. She wore glasses and was ,I believe,a few years older than me.She could be a real pain in the ass.She complined a lot and could suck the life out of you with her negativity,but I noticed when she had come back from her uncle's funeral she had mellowed down a bit.
"How did things go Aurora?"I asked her as she was at her desk putting things in order.
"It was very nice.Most of the family was there."
"I follow boxing a little,"I mentioned to her."Who was you uncle?(not figuring I'd recognize his name).
"His name was Joe Conde."
"The Joe Conde who fought in the 1930's?"
"Yes.He fought Baby Casanova and Juan Zurita.My father would always talk about him and those fights,I only remember my uncle after he had retired from boxing.I was just a little girl at the time."
"He was very famous in Mexico,"I said.
"I heard the fans would fill the Arena Coliseo in Mexico City when he fought,"said Aurora looking through me.
"He was a legend in Mexico.He mnust have fought in every town in the republic and had over 200 hundred fights."
"I remember when he'd come over to the house.He'd take me and my sisters to the park and buy us ice cream .People would recognize him and then he'd buy ice cream for everyone."
"I heard he was quite a ladies' man,"I said.
"Oh yes,he liked women,but he was a fighter and a Mexican.That's to be expected."
"I've read about that era in Mexico.Everything was much more romantic,"I said.
"It was a time when the children still had respect for their parents,"said Aurora.
"It's even changing in Mexico,but not like here in the United States."
"When my uncle came over to the house he would like to sit with the men and drink and he'd talk about his fights. My father and my other uncles admired him greatly.My uncle knew many interesting stories and had a way of telling them that captivated an audience,"said Aurora.
"I would have liked to have listened to what he had to say."
"When he described his fights with Zurita,it was like you were there inside the ring with him."
"You must miss him,"I said.
"Yes.He was a man's man.You don't see those kind around much anymore."



Juan Zurita

Rog, you piqued my interest with Joe Conde and I had to look him up. Aside from wins over Zurita and Casanova, he also beat Henry Armstrong, Jackie Wilson, Frankie Covelli and even Ginger Foran. When i saw Foran's name I thought boxrec must've made a mistake. What would a Liverpudlian be doing down Mexico way? But it is correct. Foran made this big U.S. tour and went down to Mexico for a couple of fights as well, where Conde beat him. Conde had an extensive record and it is apparent, unlike fighters of today, a loss wasn't a career ending incident.

Dan,Mexican fighters like Kid Azteca,Baby Vasquez,Baby Arizmendi,Gaspar Ortega,and Carlos Malacara also come to mind when noting Mexican fighters who began their careers in their teens,had well over a hundred fights,fought in every bull ring and arena in Mexico,fight a dozen times a month,and yes,a loss was just a part of life.Asi es Mexico!

[dagosd2000]

Ease The Pain

My wife concocts this stuff all the time.It's marijuana soaked in cane alcohol.This brew is something to be rubbed on sore muscles,arthritic parts of the body,or anywhere that's hurting on the human anatomy.I've seen bottles of this pain killer in various gyms in Mexico. People in the rural areas of Mexico have been using marijuana soaked in cane alcohol since the days of Moctezuma.I've used it. Believe me,I can feel the warmth soothing through the areas I rub it on.

I remember first seeing it used on fighters inside the old boxing gym upstairs from the Tijuana Jail on Calle Ocho. The trainers would rub the homemade remedy on their charges' bodies after a workout.They tore down the infamous slammer a few years ago.All that remains is a vacant lot and that song sung by the Kingston Trio.I saw Mantequilla Napoles workout there for his fight against Herbie Lee that took place in the old municipal auditorium on the Boulevard. I believe his next fight was his debut in the United States against Leroy Roberts at The Forum.I'm sure Jose got rubbed with the magic brew more than a few times.I'm also guessing he wasn't shy about inhaling on occasion.

Marijuana soaked in the cane alcohol is better for you than some pill that gets you hooked and can f--k up your liver and kidneys.I give my wife's brew to some of my friends that are on the achy side. They say it helps. Maybe it's psychological,but I don't think so.When my back is giving me problems,my wife plays nursemaid and afterwards I feel better.

Funny,my wife collects bottles and cans for recycling.(Made 6500 hundred bucks last year).She goes up and down the alleys and streets with her shopping basket and the poodles. She's friends with all the homeless who are also collectors,but their purposes are to get enough empty bottles and cans so they can go to the liquor store and get those funny bottles and cans. But my wife also finds some interesting things along her quests.The other day she came home with a pound of marijuana.Now back in the day I used to indulge quite frequently with the happy smoke,but having kids separated me from that vice.My wife, though.had no second thioughts on a plan of action.First she hung the plants in the kitchen so they could dry out. I had to go to TJ to buy the cane alcohol(it's illegal to sell here in California.The moonshine is 190 proof).Then she immerses the grass for three days in the alcohol.Presto.The magic formula has arrived.

So whether you're a fighter or just a peace loving individual (which I've morphed into), Mother Nature's home remedy can take some of the pain away. Now I know some pothead is reading this thinking that's no way to get the best satisfaction from good cannibus,but as for me, getting high again would just bring me down.




Our kitchen. June Cleaver would definitely disapprove


She could market this stuff

[kikibalt]

CBHOF-Oct. 24, 2015

[kikibalt]

[dagosd2000]

Out Of Sound,Out Of Mind

I figured I'd go down to Tijuana to see Floyd Mayweather's swan song. 80 bucks to see it on cable goes against my grain.The promoters work it out with the pay per view here in the U.S.,the TV packages with the foreign countries,and then the gate at ringside.After the fighters reach their guarantees,it's all gravy for guys like Arum.The bars and restaurants across the border have the fight on for 200 bucks and if you want to see it in your house ,it runs around ten dollars.To show the fight up here costs a joint an arm and a leg so you never get it unless you want to watch it in your home.80 bucks. Put up or shut up. I'll go down to TJ.The atmosphere is more to my liking.The Coahuila has a Caliente sports book above the street that has all the sports that the gambling degenerates can separate their money from their wallets with.Flat screen TV's line the walls showing an assortment of baseball games,soccer matches,horse and dog racing,and of course last Saturday night, the Mayweather fight.All bettable

I parked my car at the old parking lot,which I still refer to as the Woolworth's Parking Lot, on Revolution Street. They tore down the old Woolworths a long time ago and put up a Sorianas(a super mercado),but many still call the parking lot using the American name. It's two blocks walking to the Coahuila.The aromas are the first thing I notice that I'm getting close. The manteca crackling in the skillets frying the tacos and the carnitas.I walk by the hot dog carts with the hand painted signs .The hotdogs with the bacon wrapped around with everything on them.The stands selling roasted peanuts.There's mariscos,cocktails with shrimp,clams, and squid referred to as "Siete Mares."There's plenty of kinds of salsas and chiles to spice up and add flavor to all the dishes.You can see the smoke wafting from the grills made evident by the wires of light bulbs strung above the various carts and stands. Benches and stools are at counters with hungry eaters chomping and stuffing their food in their mouths following it down with hot corn tortillas.

I didn't stop to eat.Not just yet. I wanted to get to the book and find a table and settle in. I walked up the stairs and saw a table with a bunch of crumpled racing forms and empty bottles of beer on it.There was an vacant chair next to the table so I grabbed it. I caught the waitress and ordered a bottle of beer.The fight was supposed to start in an hour or two. The book was starting to fill up.The crowd that gathered inside hustled up to the TV sets.The Padre game was on a few of the sets.They were playing the Giants.Nobody seemed interested.The guys that rambled in were very loud. They were all Americans that I could see. It didn't take me long to figure that they all knew each other.They called each other by their first names.Black guys,White guys,Mexicans-it was a group around twenty that were uninhibited and familiar with each other and the surroundings.The tellers,waitresses,and the police inside the book didn't give them much notice. I didn't see any of those guys go to a window.There were a few gamblers,but they were sitting at the other side of the room. Around a dozen machines were located on the side were the gamblers were sitting. Mostly Mexican women were playing the machines.

As I was nursing my beer I zeroed in on the Americans' conversation,. It was all about sports. Seemed everyone was an expert on how to gamble.
"Always bet the outside horse on the quarter sprint,"one of them boasted. "That horse always wins."
"They need to send that Murphy back to El Paso,"blurted another."They kicked Black to the curb."
"I bet the field to show at Del Mar and won 200 bucks,"shouted another.

As the time approached for the fight ,I heard one of the Americans remark jokingly ,"This fight is such a dud I wouldn't be surprised if they show it on a delay."There was no way I came all the way down to TJ to watch a fight after it happened.I got up and walked downstairs and went across the street.A banner on the wall of Las Chavelas Bar read that the fight would be shown live.So that's where it was going to be for me.

The street was noisy.Plenty of girls in skimpy mini "faldas" standing out side the bars,music blaring from juke boxes,live bands strolling up and down the street.Accordians,trumpets and those big tamboras being pounded-boom boom boom.It was a hot humid night and I could see the sweat glistening from the brown breasts enhanced by the push up bras of the girls standing along the street.

The Chavelas Bar had been remodeled like a lot of the cantinas on the street. Strobe lights,dance poles,and big screen televisions transformed these places from a "seedier",darker environments to a more frenetic atmosphere.But it was all the same in the end.The men were there because of the girls.And the figures of those women in recent years went from sub standard, standard to prime choice.This is because more Americans are frequenting the clubs.Those Americans at the sports book?Hell,they live in TJ. They get a room with a toilet in the Zona Norte for 40 dollars a week,bring in a hot plate,and they can make it on their social security,pension,or SSI.Then there's the lonesome gringos across the border. For 70 U.S. dollars they can roll around with twenty year old hard body.

The Chavelas was pretty full up when I arrived,but that didn't translate to a big night for the bar. You see when there's a big fight on in those joints,all the men are watching the fight nursing a beer. The girls are ignored.The men don't want to buy them a drink.dance with them.or take them to the room. The girls are disgusted. They sit around commiserating with each other filing their nails.I had to order something so I bought a beer for for seven dollars. A far cry from the 2 dollars for the same thing at the Caliente.The waiter motioned for a girl to come over and nudge up to me and put on the hustle ,but I waved her off.I mean how am I going to concentrate on the fight when some young thing in a tight mini falda with her tits and ass booming all over the place ,her perfume making my mind go erotic,and then she starts rubbing my dick?Not condusive for watching a boxing match.Here's an emery board.

Now when the fights are shown in these bars the sound is turned off on the TV's. It's no use trying hear what's said above all the music.But for me I like it that way. I won't be influenced by all the moderating.My perspective is all that matters.It's more objective that way.

So I'm finally watching this.I pull out a pen and unfold a bar napkin. I want to score the fight so I don't have any doubts at the end. I'm thinking if I didn't know who these two were,I'd had this Berto guy making the fight. He's forcing the action,cutting this Mayweather off,and pinning him on the ropes.Instead of establishing his jab as he did in his previous fights,Mayweather is just trying to fend off Berto with his left. He 's trying to tie up his rushes on the inside,but Berto is the fresher and stroger guy. Mayweather's body looks puffy and he's settling down on his legs.His old legs.The fight reminds me of the first Tarver/Jones fight. You could see that Roy Jones had left it behind him that night.But like that fight, Floyd Mayweather,to his credit,mustered enough guile and ring savvy to pull it out in the end like Jones did against Tarver.But at least that scoring was honest. My napkin read 5-4-3 even Floyd.But let's face it,Berto showed better than Pacquiao and the scorecards were a lot closer than the ones Saturday night.And then I see the scorecards at ringside. One judge gave Mayweather every round.The other judges were near those numbers.



It's all about the money.There's nothing going on if Mayweather loses. A rematch would mean little.So what now Floyd?One more win to get to 50 and O? Pass up Marciano's record?That's what the promoters are angling for.But your about ready to have the fork stuck into you. You're father is right. If you have any doubts,hang them up now or you'll get hurt.But the "smart guys" will tell you to go on.Make history.They'll wave the millions in front of you.I suggest you make your next decision wearing a set of ear muffs.That way the sound will be off.



Mr. 49 and O

[dagosd2000]

Brotherly Love

"So how's business Ed?"I asked.
"Now that football has started up again we'll do our share."
I should have known the answer to that question,but I figured Ed would give me a stock reply.It was something to start the conversation. Champs Bar is always a good watering hole to watch the games on TV. The bars at the beach and at the Gas Lamp area downtown do better,but they've always been trendy.It's almost just as important to been seen in those places as to watch the game. Champs Lounge is there for the neighborhood blue collar crowd and a price list that's affordable.I made my appearance just as Ed had opened up.Nobody there.Too early for anything going on. Champs has its share of alcoholics,but they function well enough to hold on to their jobs so they can kick up their heels later in the day unless its football season and that means on the weekends the games begin in the morning. I was in there in the morning ,but it was a Tuesday so I got a reprieve from the games.
"I used to follow the games,but I've lost interest,"I said as Ed drew me a beer.
"Too much hype for me,"said Ed as he put the glass of beer down on a coaster.
"I remember when they'd just show the game.No pre game.No post game.And when it was over they showed a movie,"I said.
"And there was only one announcer."
"Remember Lindsay Nelson?"
"I liked Ray Scott,"said Ed.
"Yeah.Starr...Dowler...touchdown!"
"But you do have to admit that the game has progressed."
"It's a lot more complicated,"I said.
"Those color guys give you a lot of insight."
"Let's face it.Those Lombardi Packers wouldn't fare very well today."
"Those guys had guts,but they wouldn't win against the teams today.Today's football player is a lot bigger ,faster,and stringer. More athletic."
Ed began opening up a case of booze and put one of the bottles on the shelf in back of the bar.
"I'll tell you something though,"he said."The fighters back then were better than the ones today."
"I'd say so."
Remember when Burke had the gym in North Park?"
"I sure did. A lot of the boys trained there."
"I saw Mike Quarry work out there once with his brother Jerry,"said Ed.
"Wasn't that for his last fight with Ronnie Wilson?"
"It was.Jerry was out of boxing by then,but he worked with his brother for that fight."
"They sparred quite a lot with each other."
"I wouldn't call it sparring. I'd call it a warring."
"Those two were always fighting with each other,"I said.
"To see them train together,you'd think thay hated each other."
"They really loved each other. I don't think there were brothers as close as those two."
"Fighters who are brothers are pretty close to each other."
"Too bad the Quarry's had to die so young,"I said
"They took a lot of shots,"said Ed.
"A lot of those shots came when they trained with each other."
"Funny how some people show their love to one another."




Mike Quarry

[dagosd2000]

It Ain't Over Until It's Over...Not

Yogi died today.What a life.Served in the Army in World War 2,played on all those World Series teams with the Yankees,a Hall of Famer.He was a national treasure.Not many Italians you can call national treasures.Ever since the Godfather movies Italians are showcased as gangsters mostly.Gangsters took over for the cowboys. Billy the Kid and Jesse James ,I guess are folk heroes,even though they were murderers. Turn on the History Channel and most of that stuff is about Hitler and the Nazis and gangsters.What's all this fascination with evil lately?

The Italian mob guys liked fellas like Yogi and the Rock. Gave Italians a good name.You can bet Al Capone and Vito Corleone didn't,but they're always on the screen with their ilk.Most Italians are good guys,but if they're not hitting someone over the head with a baseball bat,often the allure isn't there.

Yogi used his baseball bat to hit home runs and to drive in base runners.But let's face it,Yogi is best known for his malapropisms of the English language.They are pretty funny, especially coming from him.The squatty guy with the pug face talking with the back east Italian accent. Quotes like "When you come to that fork in the road,take it." He could have been a screen writer for Sgt. Bilko's platoon ,or at least been standing beside Doberman.

Yogi is not with us anymore,not his physical presence anyway,but we know better. Didn't he say "It ain't over until it's over?"I'll embellish a little.Yogi,you might not be here in body anymore,but you'll always be with us.I bet the pasta where you're at is as good as mama's.Better yet.She's probably waiting for you with a plate of some of her homemade raviolis.

R.I.P goomba

[Chuck1052]

Despite having an image of being a funny-looking buffoon with little education and a past master of malapropisms in quite a number of circles, Yogi Berra was an extremely stable man as a ballplayer, a teammate, a manager of his personal finances, a husband in a longtime marriage to a fine woman and a father, unlike many other top New York Yankee players of his time. Oh yes, Yogi also was the most consistent great catcher in Major League Baseball history, rarely missing a lot of games and almost never having a bad season. In addition, he was a great hitter with terrific power and an underrated defensive catcher with a great ability in handling Yankee pitchers. Many supposedly smart people with much more education didn't do as well as Yogi in so many ways.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

Stand Down

Before Julio Cesar Chavez earned his way to becoming the most popular and greatest fighter in Mexican boxing history,that honor belonged to "El Puas",Ruben Olivares.He fought in an era where the bantamweight division proclaimed the most talented fighters of all the weight classes. The Medels,Herreras,Castillos,Martinezes,Pimentels,Roses,Rudkins,Gomezes, Stevensons,and a multitude of other scrappers brought excitement to every venue that they laced up their gloves , climbed inside the squared circle,and then gave it everything they had.The Olympic Auditorium,The Forum,and all the arenas across the border would be packed to the doors to watch these 118 pounders put on a thrilling show.

I was ringside when Olivares was at his peak and then,by chance(my wife and I were visiting her sister in Mexico City),I saw his last outing,a pale shadow of his former self, at the Arena Coliseo.I'll comment when I saw Rockin' Ruben when he was at the top of his game.He had recaptured the title from Chucho Castillo(his only defeat)and decided to fight a non title go in Tijuana at the bullring.The big money fights for Olivares were at that time in Los Angeles,but the Mexican champions liked to give their "carnales" the chance to see them fight on their home turf.

Olivares was a very big draw.He'd fill the Forum , most of the crowd traveling up from across the border.The night I saw him in Tijuana they knew they'd sell out the downtown bullring.He fought a Japanese fighter who sported just a so so record against so so opposition.But it was satisfying enough for Olivares to take his show on the road.Between defenses,he fought throughout the republic in those non title frays.It was the right thing to do for the people who couldn't afford to travel far away from their hometowns.

Olivares was what the aficianados ached for.He was a killer.That's when the" golpe" to the liver was trademark punch for a Mexican slugger. They perfected that punch.Defense was for the hesitant.Swappimg blows,blood splashing on trunks and the ringside seats,trading knockdowns, was on every menu for these showdowns.

That night at the bullring I remember the crowd restlessly anticipating the main go. At the time there was a rivalry between Japanese and Mexican fighters.The Japanese fighters were noted for being in fighting trim and having guts(remember Guts Suzuki?).The Mexican fighters threw caution to the wind,charging in like a Pancho Villa assault,the main weapon,the left hook to the liver.And of course they had plenty of intestinal fortitude.

As Olivares and the Japanese fighter were sitting in their corners awaiting for their instructions at the middle of the ring,the Mexican announcer introduced the notables in the audience to come up into the ring and take a bow. The local fighters were introduced,went to each fighter's corner to shake hands,and then waved to the crowd. The fans welcomed them with healthy applause.Then the announcer made his final introduction. I thought my faulty Spanish was playing with my ears,but I couldn't mistake the name.The name of the most popular fighter in San Diego and an American treasure ,Archie Moore.The Mongoose went through those ropes with the grace and style that Astaire couldn't have choreographed any better.The crowd exploded.Everyone rose and cheered.It wasn't pandemonium,but a roar of reverence.Archie was blowing kisses to the four corners of the ring up to the people sitting in the rafters.He then bowed,rose up,and put his hand on his heart and then extended it with an open hand to all that were there.I never saw anything like it.I 'll never forget that moment.

Then the main eventers were introduced.When Olivares was named he got a big hand,but everyone was in their seats.I thought Ruben would have got the standing ovation like Archie.Ruben demolished the Japanese fighter in short order. Everyone went home happy,but I don't think anyone felt more gratifuication as Archie Moore did that night.That ovation was something he didn't solicit.It was a spontaneous act of love.




Rockin' Ruben Olivares

[dagosd2000]

Famous

The launching pad for Mexican fighters emigrating from the southern states of the republic to make a name for themselves so they could eventually show their stuff in the big venues in the U.S. was to hone their skills at the boxing gym at the CREA athletic complex in Tijuana.In short the gym has always been known as the CREA.What you saw of the best Mexican fighters going at it at the Olympic Auditorium,The Fabulous Forum,and Caesar's Palace,you can bet worked up a sweat at the CREA. When Julio Caesar Chavez wanted to step up in class,he and his manager left Sinaloa to train with the cream of the crop at the CREA.If you could hang with the boys at the CREA you passed muster.

The gym usually opened its doors around 3 in the afternoon. If you were a novice who wanted to impress and didn't have enough pesos,you could bring a mop or a broom or a little Pine Sol to add to the custodial inventories. If you were a Napoles,a Saldivar,a Chavez,or an Olivares you were considered royalty.People paid to see their art.

One guy I remember who slugged it out at the CREA, who added to that aura of a Mexican counterpart of the Philly gym, was tough veteran Octavio "Famoso" Gomez. He was in the mix with the plethora of Mexican bantams whose signature punch was the "gancho" to the liver.That big left hook that came up from somewhere near Chiapas and was sunk deep into the right side somewhere between Michoacán and Jalisco.

"Famoso" was from "Mexico" or how Mexicans often referred to their capitol. He was bread and "mantequilla" at the numerous venues in TJ. He laced them up mostly at the municipal auditorium,but I saw him fight at the old downtown bullring,the Arena 72,and the race track. He wasn't shy about fighting the best and he brought out the best of his opponents and himself. He beat Little Red,Art Hafey,and Raul Herrera.He also lost to those fellas.He went to Brazil and gave the great Eder Jofre a scare losing a close decidion. I saw the tape of that fight on Mexican TV. "Famoso"countered and traded with everything Jofre had to offer.Holding his gloves by his sides he brought his punches together with rhythmic propulsion. It was one of those fights where the crowd went nuts every time Jofre would breathe on him. I actually thought Gomez landed more shots,but every "golpe" he landed was on the fans pay no mind list.A late round knockdown scored by the Brazilian was breather enough to make the judges comfortable with their score cards.

I caught Gomez between sparring sessions one afternoon at the CREA and asked him about the Jofre fight.
"Jofre is a great champion,"responded "Famoso.""The fight was close. I gave it my best.The knockdown probably won it for him. It was a good fight."
With humility like that is how he likely got his nickname.



"Famoso" Gomez

[scartissue]

Famous

The launching pad for Mexican fighters emigrating from the southern states of the republic to make a name for themselves so they could eventually show their stuff in the big venues in the U.S. was to hone their skills at the boxing gym at the CREA athletic complex in Tijuana.In short the gym has always been known as the CREA.What you saw of the best Mexican fighters going at it at the Olympic Auditorium,The Fabulous Forum,and Caesar's Palace,you can bet worked up a sweat at the CREA. When Julio Caesar Chavez wanted to step up in class,he and his manager left Sinaloa to train with the cream of the crop at the CREA.If you could hang with the boys at the CREA you passed muster.

The gym usually opened its doors around 3 in the afternoon. If you were a novice who wanted to impress and didn't have enough pesos,you could bring a mop or a broom or a little Pine Sol to add to the custodial inventories. If you were a Napoles,a Saldivar,a Chavez,or an Olivares you were considered royalty.People paid to see their art.

One guy I remember who slugged it out at the CREA, who added to that aura of a Mexican counterpart of the Philly gym, was tough veteran Octavio "Famoso" Gomez. He was in the mix with the plethora of Mexican bantams whose signature punch was the "gancho" to the liver.That big left hook that came up from somewhere near Chiapas and was sunk deep into the right side somewhere between Michoacán and Jalisco.

"Famoso" was from "Mexico" or how Mexicans often referred to their capitol. He was bread and "mantequilla" at the numerous venues in TJ. He laced them up mostly at the municipal auditorium,but I saw him fight at the old downtown bullring,the Arena 72,and the race track. He wasn't shy about fighting the best and he brought out the best of his opponents and himself. He beat Little Red,Art Hafey,and Raul Herrera.He also lost to those fellas.He went to Brazil and gave the great Eder Jofre a scare losing a close decidion. I saw the tape of that fight on Mexican TV. "Famoso"countered and traded with everything Jofre had to offer.Holding his gloves by his sides he brought his punches together with rhythmic propulsion. It was one of those fights where the crowd went nuts every time Jofre would breathe on him. I actually thought Gomez landed more shots,but every "golpe" he landed was on the fans pay no mind list.A late round knockdown scored by the Brazilian was breather enough to make the judges comfortable with their score cards.

I caught Gomez between sparring sessions one afternoon at the CREA and asked him about the Jofre fight.
"Jofre is a great champion,"responded "Famoso.""The fight was close. I gave it my best.The knockdown probably won it for him. It was a good fight."
With humility like that is how he likely got his nickname.



"Famoso" Gomez

Rog, I was fortunate to have seen Famoso fight a couple of times and what I remember most about him was speed. I saw him stop Cesar Deciga - who was a very underrated fighter - and I saw him get stopped by Rodolfo Martinez. However, I should mention, I had Famoso leading at the time of the stoppage which was in the 7th round I believe. At the time Martinez was a real monster, so that was no mean feat. Famoso was one damn good fighter. Wasn't he a comedian or a magician when he wasn't slinging leather?

[dagosd2000]

Famous

The launching pad for Mexican fighters emigrating from the southern states of the republic to make a name for themselves so they could eventually show their stuff in the big venues in the U.S. was to hone their skills at the boxing gym at the CREA athletic complex in Tijuana.In short the gym has always been known as the CREA.What you saw of the best Mexican fighters going at it at the Olympic Auditorium,The Fabulous Forum,and Caesar's Palace,you can bet worked up a sweat at the CREA. When Julio Caesar Chavez wanted to step up in class,he and his manager left Sinaloa to train with the cream of the crop at the CREA.If you could hang with the boys at the CREA you passed muster.

The gym usually opened its doors around 3 in the afternoon. If you were a novice who wanted to impress and didn't have enough pesos,you could bring a mop or a broom or a little Pine Sol to add to the custodial inventories. If you were a Napoles,a Saldivar,a Chavez,or an Olivares you were considered royalty.People paid to see their art.

One guy I remember who slugged it out at the CREA, who added to that aura of a Mexican counterpart of the Philly gym, was tough veteran Octavio "Famoso" Gomez. He was in the mix with the plethora of Mexican bantams whose signature punch was the "gancho" to the liver.That big left hook that came up from somewhere near Chiapas and was sunk deep into the right side somewhere between Michoacán and Jalisco.

"Famoso" was from "Mexico" or how Mexicans often referred to their capitol. He was bread and "mantequilla" at the numerous venues in TJ. He laced them up mostly at the municipal auditorium,but I saw him fight at the old downtown bullring,the Arena 72,and the race track. He wasn't shy about fighting the best and he brought out the best of his opponents and himself. He beat Little Red,Art Hafey,and Raul Herrera.He also lost to those fellas.He went to Brazil and gave the great Eder Jofre a scare losing a close decidion. I saw the tape of that fight on Mexican TV. "Famoso"countered and traded with everything Jofre had to offer.Holding his gloves by his sides he brought his punches together with rhythmic propulsion. It was one of those fights where the crowd went nuts every time Jofre would breathe on him. I actually thought Gomez landed more shots,but every "golpe" he landed was on the fans pay no mind list.A late round knockdown scored by the Brazilian was breather enough to make the judges comfortable with their score cards.

I caught Gomez between sparring sessions one afternoon at the CREA and asked him about the Jofre fight.
"Jofre is a great champion,"responded "Famoso.""The fight was close. I gave it my best.The knockdown probably won it for him. It was a good fight."
With humility like that is how he likely got his nickname.



"Famoso" Gomez

Rog, I was fortunate to have seen Famoso fight a couple of times and what I remember most about him was speed. I saw him stop Cesar Deciga - who was a very underrated fighter - and I saw him get stopped by Rodolfo Martinez. However, I should mention, I had Famoso leading at the time of the stoppage which was in the 7th round I believe. At the time Martinez was a real monster, so that was no mean feat. Famoso was one damn good fighter. Wasn't he a comedian or a magician when he wasn't slinging leather?

Dan,Famoso had some parts in some Mexican movies and tried his hand at singing. There were some fighters in Mexico(like there were some American fighters)that, after retiring from the ring,made a second career on the screen.

[dagosd2000]

Northern Light

I remember one of the last World Boxing Hall of Fame banquets I attended. I was sitting at a table with my wife next to a table that seated Yaqui Lopez and his family. I believe he was being inducted in the now defunct boxing organization. There were a bunch of Lopezes,Yaqui's family all very happy and excited to see their patriarch receive his honors.

Alvaro "Yaqui" Lopez was one of those fighters that brought everything to the table after the opening gong went off.He might not have been the fastest,nor the hardest hitter,and defense certainly wasn't his forte,but when it came to guts he was with the top echelon of the most macho.His wars with Matthew Saad Muhammad were examples of such intestinal fortitude.

His face shows the wear and tear of his battles,but I'm glad to say that his mental capacities didn't succumb to all the shots he caught during his ring career. West Coast Boxing is the name of the thread here,so maybe "Yaqui" performed and resides a little too inland in the state of California. His legacy is with the other brown bag pugilists of the San Joaquin Valley and the Bay Area fighters of the 60's and 70's. Off the top of my head:Nate Collins,George Cooper,Jimmy Lester,Lonnie Harris,Terry Lee,and George Davis. Middleweights and LIght Heavies,these boys were bigger than most of the fighters in the Southland(Quarry's excepted),but they deserve comparable recognition.Like that classic John Huston film,Fat City, of boxing in the Northern California farm region,these fellas gave a weekend entertainments worth for the calloused pickers who helped feed the country.The laborers and the fighters were set close in many ways.An honest performance for a day's pay.

Getting back to the World Boxing ceremony. Somehow "Yaqui" found out that I had brought a painting to the banquet. I believe it was one I did for the famous woman fighter Lucia Riker. "Yaqui" and his family admired the painting like I was the second coming of Rembrandt. Knowing what he had given the fans,I was very humbled indeed.I didn't deserve all the accolades. I mean I'm a painter who paints for a hobby. Comparing a painter with a fighter like Lopez is like putting an actor playing the part of a fighter(Robert DeNiro) next to a real fighter(Jake LaMotta). Well I'm no Robert DeNiro nor a Rembrandt--Jake LaMotta?Only when I'm dreaming.

All I can say is that "Yaqui" Lopez is a stand up guy.a man's man,a role model for the younger generation.When I asked him for a picture he said,"Of course.You're an artist.You're special." He couldn't have knocked me off my feet any harder than if he hit me with a left hook.



"Yaqui" Lopez.I wish Rembrandt was around to do justice .



"Alvaro"Yaqui" Lopez at the World Boxing Hall of Fame. Now there's a real picture! I can't top that!