Classic American West Coast Boxing

[dagosd2000]

Bar Wars

There used to be a bar in National City,just south of San Diego,called The Club 21. National City is where the 32nd Street Naval Base is and the town of National City thrives off thrives from what the sailors and their families bring to the town. While the the servicemen are out to sea,many of the wives(referred to as "West Pac wives") and kids are residing in the local rentals and going to the local schools. I used to think,and sometimes I still believe there are more Philippinos in the United States Navy than any other breed of cat. The town of National City is dotted with Philippino stores and restaurants.the Club 21 was basically a Philippino bar. Sometimes they'd put on boxing matches. Sometimes the matches were sub rosa. I was in a bout there that I know wasn't sanctioned. There were no commission people around before or after the fight. I never took a physical. I had no license.But I didn't think much of it. All the fights on the card were 3 round 2 minute amateur affairs.Rick Farris,the president of the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame,fought there one time in a legit fight.The Club 21 is the only bar that I can recall that had boxing matches in San Diego. I went to the BoxRec records and saw that in 1971 there were 4 matches at the Club 21. I remember fighting there around that time.

But aside from The Club 21,most of the fights in San Diego were at the Coliseum. There were some hit and miss venues like the Palisades Roller Skating Rink,The El Cortez Hotel,and the Spreckles Theater.Lane Field was torn down in the early 60's. There were some pretty good fights there when they knew they could get more fans into the ballpark than the Coliseum. Today in San Diego there isn't much going on as far as fight cards go.Bobby DiPhilippis used to put on cards at the 4 Points Sheraton Hotel,but I haven't seen anything going on there in quite some time. He's hooked up with Memo Ayon Jr. and they have a lot of matches in the bars in Tijuana.Promociones Quinones also stages fights in TJ. But often these fights are practically invisible,except to the local Tijuaneros. The fights aren't what I'd call 5 star billing. Often,a lot of the boys have pretty dismal records. I don't know if they'd be allowed to fight in California.

Just about all of the fights in Tijuana today are staged in the various bars around the city.Local watering holes with names like Escape,Las Pulgas,and El Perro Salada feature what Tijuana has to offer up to the boxing world. If a kid in TJ passes muster,he'll catch the eye of a promoter on the U.S. side and then try to get the big money fighting in Las Vegas,San Antonio,or Los Angeles. If he comes up short,then it's back to the cantinas fighting for pesos. The promoters in TJ know that they are essentially providing a kind of proving ground for the fighters who train in Tijuana. Luis Nery,who honed his teeth In the venues of Tijuana,proved he had the goods and now is one of the hottest talents in boxing. However,once he tasted success on the U.S. side of the border there's no going back to Mexico.Why should he?

I remember when I used to follow the sport a lot more closely ,The Mexican fighters who won world titles would return to their "patria chicas" and put on a show for the aficianados who couldn't afford or didn't have the documentation to cross north to watch their countrymen fight. Jose Napoles,Ruben Olivares, Vicente Saldivar,and Julio Cesar Chavez, after reaching the top,fought in Mexico even if it was a non title go. But of course it still had to do with money. When they fought in "Aztecalandia",all concerned made a little dough. Today,a little dough is not enough for the greedy,and that includes the fighters. Canelo will never fight in Mexico again. When he fought Triple G,it was on Mexican independence Day,Fiesta Patrias. The fight was in all places,Las Vegas.Of course there were planty of Mexicans in the seats,Chicanos and nationals,but I have to say that the fight was on Mexican television for free instead of paying through the nose liked they did in the U.S. But when I say "free" we know there were a lot of fat cats who got their pockets greased. From time to time I'd watch the fights in those bars in TJ.I don't anymore.Like the song of the same title,"I Don't Get No Satisfaction."


Jose Napoles

[dagosd2000]

Goon

Many sports fans vicariously live their lives through their athletic idols. Boxing,the sport that pits man against man in a fight,perhaps a metaphor for the symbolism of machismo,often attracts the most extreme Walter Mittyists on the planet. The wanting souls who fawn over the current and former pugilists always strike me as a group that sees a fighter as a some sort of a Teutonic hero who departs from his final battle impaled,but with blood on his sword. He's a tragic hero that represents a someone who someone else would have liked to have been

The coterie of figures managing boxing don't quite look at a fighter as the courageous embodiment of honorable valor. I'm talking now mostly about the promoters.I've never known of a promoter that's walked away from a fighter because of his well being,his best interests. When the cash cow that puts on the gloves can't give milk anymore,he's sent out to pasture to fend on his own.

But sometimes there is a life after the final bell. for a fighter. He can apply the muscle for the guys that control the sport.He can be a "goon".It's not as prevalent today as it was back when the Mr. Gray's and the Blinkiy's pulled the strings.when the Outfit and the Syndicate could fix a fight on a whim, and also a fighter's career. I was watching On the Waterfront the other night. Terry Malloy could have been a somebody,a contender,but his brother and the racketeers told him to go into the tank against Wilson.. I remember my father rubbing shoulders with Mooney and Johnny Haircut discussing who they should lay their money on with the books because the fight was a set up. it was real funny with them,a sure thing,a lock.

The Italians had respect for Marciano.He was the heavyweight champ. They scored women for him,but made sure he had the right opposition in front of him.,but LaMotta was a thug,Graziano was a close second,and the rest of the paisans did what they were told. Basilio wanted nothing to with them,but that didn't stand with Johnny DeJohn and Joey Nitro. Carmen had to keep looking over his shoulder with his managers.

So when a lot of these ex pugs started getting a little funny in the head,when they couldn't and didn't know how to make an honest buck,they went to work for the Mob breaking legs. But those guys weren't what they called "earners".They didn't bring any money in.The only time they put enough money into the pockets of the Mob(so they could blow it all the next day at the track)was when they were in the ring getting hit in the head. Now they could rough up some schmuck who welshed on a Mob loan for a few bucks. I don't see with those guys any knights in shining armor in my viewfinder


Carmen Basilio

[dagosd2000]

Old Bones

I haven't seen one in a long time,one of those old timers games.The sport of baseball used to have a lot of them. Usually,it was a showcase for the hitters.I remember Whitey Ford had worked it out with Mickey Mantle that Mantle wanted his old teammate to pitch him a nice fat slow one inside so he could hit it over the short porch in left field at Yankee Stadium. The Mick swung the bat from both sides of the plate,but it was only something like 297 feet down the left field line to put one out if he batted from the right side. Whitey obliged and Mantle had enough left in him to barely clear the fence for a homerun. Sometimes though a pitcher wanted to show that he still had some stuff. I remember Roger Craig,who was managing the major league Padres at the time, was on the mound in one of those old timer games at the now defunct Jack Murphy Stadium.The legendary Willie Mays,who was only a few years out of the game,was at the plate facing Craig. But Craig,who was older than Say Hey Willie,mustered up everything he had left in his arm and sent Mays back to the bench on three swings.But Mays was just a shell of himself for several years before he hung them up for good when he finished with the Mets. I never could understand how anyone could relish in the satisfaction seeing a once brilliant athlete perform using his old Rolls Royce physical machine now firing on half its cylinders,chassis squeaking,the tires ball and flat,and its gaskets leaking oil. A rusty gate of a swing missing by a mile. Hobbling to first base on arthritic legs.An arm that lobs the ball in a slow arc. I'm glad they did away with those painful dog and pony shows. I want to remember Mantle and Mays when they could run forever and crush a baseball a mile. They lived in rarified air. But that was baseball.

How about two legends of the sweet science,years after their bodies quit on them,trying to satisfy the crowd with a bygone look of what once was? I remember they coaxed Sugar Ray and the Wil O' The Wisp one time to see if any of the flash was left-not even a spark. Oh,it was all taken with a grain of salt,too much NaCl for my sake.There was nothing to sweeten the moment witnessing that.

Jack Johnson finally fought Joe Jeanette after Lil' Arthur won the championship,but it was also some 25 years after Big Jess had made Johnson hold up his arm to shield the sun from his eyes at Oriental Park in Havana. I saw the blubbery old pair on a video swinging away like the way girls flail at each other when they fight. I watched that video only once..


Jack Dempsey went the route of the exhibitions. I saw the film of The Manassa Mauler stumbling after Kingfish Levinsky,the guy who fainted in front of Joe Louis,gasping for breath unable to catch up with the fighter who was managed by his sister. There was nothing to savor. What was all of Jack's legs he left behind at Soldiers Field.

I want to remember those warriors when their muscles and reflexes responded to their impulses on command,when they had the magic,the resolve,to reach the pinnacle of their sport I've seen it a little in myself. I could hit a baseball,lift a ton of weights,fight off a double team block,smack a few guys around the ring;but today,with my old bones crackling as I get in and out of my car,I look first from side to side before crawling out to the sidewalk. I don't want to get run over by some woman jogger.


Joe Jeanette

[Chuck1052]

Roger, I am sure that you know that it was the right field which had the short porch in Yankee Stadium, not left field.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

Roger, I am sure that you know that it was the right field which had the short porch in Yankee Stadium, not left field.

- Chuck Johnston

Chuck
You're absolutely right. Right field down the line was 327 feet that arced to 347 to right center,but left field RIGHT down the line was 297 feet. Then it swelled to something like 385 to left center. Mantle wanted to go for it(with the assistance of Whitey)straight down the left field line to 297. i remember seeing the game on TV. Mickey and Whitey were laughing about the "shot." Mantle laughed,saying that was about all the power he had left in him. I think the ball went 298 feet.

[dagosd2000]

The Hidden Forest

Sometimes it's hard for me to figure out why a fighter,who's losing more than he's winning,is still fighting.A lot of times it's because he needs the money. He knows that his aspirations of making it to the top have dwindled to nothing.He knew at the time, when he thought he had it together and had prepared himself the best he could,failure had won out.He believed it was his time once,but when he tried to fire off everything he had in his arsenal,and realized that the rounds were landing short,the reality of his potential began creeping into his philosophy. When he didn't see the punches coming and didn't have the skills to counter the assault,impossibilty entered his vocabulary. But sometimes it's not that realization at all. The fantasy continues.The toll of the punches received may have blurred the honesty. if the people around him just want to drain the last vapor of blood from his veins,,they don't put an end to the demise.They could walk away from it all,but too often then they raise the voices of inspiration and accelerate the rhetoric.
"it just wasn't your day."
"You'll get him next time."
Excuses are invented,some are the old standbys. When I was younger,I went along with the con.

We often remember a great fighter,who now is swinging in his twilight,and think he can catch the lightning in the bottle. But more tragic,though the fall isn't as far,is the fighter who didn't have a lot on his menu in the first place and now he's served up as everyone's lunch. He's carved up and sliced according to his opponent's tastes,but the drubbings go on. For whatever the reasons,he keeps entering the ring,and leaves less alive than before.

Fight fans are somewhat cruel. If a fighter lies on the canvas unconcious,a foot twitching,blood trickling from a gaping mouth,,the crowd's esteem is heaped on the man hovering over the outstretched,arms raised in triumph, admiring in the heatof the moment his lustful satisfaction. A run to each corner of the ring to stand on the bottom strand and strike out with his clenched fist to a maddening audience that sees him as the epitome of, when you have to decide,what a man should be.

But it all runs full circle, The time will come when the conqueror is overthrown. He's the one prone on the mat oblivious to the hysterical sounds sating inside the arena.But that's the sport of boxing.It's always been like that and will continue on that rugged, crazy road.

With these words,you might think that I'm getting too sentimental,going soft. I wouldn't put up much of a fight to argue the accusations. It's a free country. If a man wants to be a fighter,no one is stopping him. Most fighters, after it's all done and gone,don't have any regrets. They have some pretty good stories,if nothing else,to tell. If I could wind the clock back,I would have done it different.Then I could spin off a yarn or two.

[dagosd2000]

Forgot Somethin'

I can't remember the fighter's name. I'm sure he would have liked to have forgotten the whole thing.What I'm getting at is one night while I was taking in the action at one of the cards at the Coliseum,there was this prelim fight. It could have been an amateur go. Anyway,the ring announcer is introducing the boys and brings them to center ring so the ref can go over the rules.I remember the two kids,one of them is a white kid,the other a Mexican fighter.After the ref reads them the rules,they sprint back to their corners rarin' to go. In the mean time one of the guys working the in the corner of the white kid takes off his robe.What do you know?The kid forgot to put on his boxing trunks. For a second he wasn't aware of what he forgot. The crowd busts out laughing like all get out.All the kid has on underneath is his protective cup over his BVDs. I guess in the old days around the turn of the century that might have been standard attire. Well they throw the robe back on the kid. Now what?They make a decision to send someone back to the dressing room for the kid's trunks.Back comes one of the guys from the kid's corner running down the aisle with these boxing trunks in his hand. Like it was rehearsed and all choreographed,the kid's corner huddles around him as he puts on his trunks. I couldn't understand all the modesty. What was there to see anyway?All the time this added show is going on,the kid is all piss and vinegar. He ain't blushin'.He's frothing at the mouth waiting to tear into the other guy. He just had to wait for his trunks to arrive. I can't tell you who won.I guess what went on before the opening bell was more memorable than the fight



"Gentleman" Jim Corbett.
He was one of those jockstrap fighters.I wonder how he got the name"Gentleman"?

[dagosd2000]

No Honorable Mention

I was lucky enough to be invited to sit at Louie Burke's table at the California Boxing Hall of Fame banquet a few years ago. Louie is my pal Randy De La O's cousin so I got the invite to enjoy Louie's induction into the Cal Box Hall of Fame that afternoon.When I get the opportunity to be a guest at an inductee's table,I like to paint a portrait of the fighter. I surprised Louie that afternoon when I gave him my effort after he had received his plaque and made his speech. A little to my surprise,he was really floored by the painting. He couldn't believe that anyone would think he was worth the time to put on canvas.
"No one has ever painted a picture of me,"he said holding up he painting looking at it a little out of breath.
"Well.you deserved it,"I said groping for something honest to say.
Louie had a winning streak going when he started out before losing to another fighter from Louie's state of New Mexico,Charlie Brown. Louie shortly after that loss tried to re establish himself against an undefeated Hector Camacho,but lost on a TKO.Louie's next fight was against a fighter named Alonso who had lost 13 times,but Louie couldn't push that number to 14 and again Louie lost on a TKO.Louie called it a career after that fight. His pro record was a respectable 19 wins against 3 losses. That was good enough to be recognized in Don Fraser's club. Louie was thrilled to be honored.

Louie talked to me about his family and how he wanted to be a good husband and father,. He worried about how the youth of today are exposed to too many bad influences My wife,Maria ,was sitting beside me. She really likes going to Los Angeles at those ceremonies to be around the fighters. There's something humble and simple that's inherent in most fighters..My wife shares a common feeling with them. Pretenetiousness is not one of those feelings.


Louie talked a lot about his top prospect,Austin Trout. Louie was training him and was very excited about his upcoming fight with Canelo Alvarez..Trout had just come off a big win against Miguel Cotto and that had opened the door for him for the Canelo fight. Both boys had never tasted defeat in a pro bout.This was going to be a crossroad fight. Many,including myself,thought that Trout had enough tools to beat Canelo,but the redhead was a little to strong for Austin. After that loss,it's been bumpy road for Trout.Time will tell if he can straighten himself out.

Aside about talking about his charge Austin Trout,Louie had something to say about a heavyweight he was working with.
"I've got this heavyweight that all he wants to do is fight bums,"said Louie shaking his head.
"Did you try to explain things to him?"I asked.
"I told him that he's got to test himself if he wants to move up,but he's content fighting guys he's already beat.All he cares about is his record looking good."
"Does this guy have anything to write home about?"I inquired.
"Let's put it this way. he knows he doesn't have to train very hard to beat the competition he's up against now."
"So what's next?"
"I'll have another talk with him,but if he still wants to fight stiffs,I'm going to walk away."

I don't know what happened after that. I never heard again about that heavyweight from Louie Burke.But shortly after the banquet I received in the mail a large manila envelope. It was addressed from Las Cruces ,New Mexico from Louie Burke.Inside were some autographed boxing programs when Louie was on the cards and an autographed 8x 10 of Austin Trout.Also was a hand written letter from Louie.

"Roger and Maria
Thank you so much for the beautiful painting and support you gave me at the induction ceremony.It's always such a pleasure to meet class acts,such as you and Maria.If you're ever in Las Cruces or passing there gave me a call(He wrote his phone number) and I'll take you and Maria to get some New Mexican food and chile. I also had my boxer Austin trout sign an autograph for you.
God Bless You
Louie Burke"

No mention of that heavyweight,and why should there be?



Austin Trout

[dagosd2000]

The Michigan Assassinated

The man nicknamed the Michigan Assassin,the fighter who loved to fight as a kid growing up taking on men bigger than himself with no reservations,who hated schools and ran away from home to ride the rails,this man named Stanley Ketchel was murdered from behind by a guy by the name of Dipley. It's one of those famous tales that rivets the boxing fan to the image of the fighter that emboldens his fighting spirit. He can't be beaten face to face even when his hand may not be raised at the end,but is struck down by happenstance...by a guy named Dipley.

I told you about my friend Whitey who had an old man who was born in Italy in Modena whose family came out to Texas and started a chicken farm.Bertolino,"Bert" as we called him,was a hobo once and rode the rails like Stanley Ketchel.Bert was scrawny and lean and smoked his roll your own Bull Durhams that the docs told him to stop doing or he'd get lung cancer so he started smoking Camel unfilters and died of lung cancer anyway.("I don't understand it,"he said after he came down with the cancer."I stopped smoking the Bull Durhams like the doctors told me." )He liked baseball,boxing,and horse racing.He never cared for the other sports that took over,especially football and basketball.
"Too many n-----s",he'd say gruffly looking at the television.
He told me he was at Toledo when Dempsey jumped out of the ring after the 1st round and took his wraps off.He thought he won the side bet Doc Kearns made that the Manassa Mauler would knockout Big Jess in the first frame,but Ollie Pecard yelled at Jack to get back into the ring because Willard wanted to go on. One more round,but no more knockdowns after 7 in the first. Jess's coener wouldn't let their big guy go out for the 3rd. Dempsey and Kearns lost the side bet,but won the title thanks to the dry wall in Dempsey's mitts.

But Bert also palled around with Ketchel's manager Willus Britt and was a young man at the time when Ketchel was fighting out West.. I'd have to probe away at Bert to get him to talk about what came across his path as he traversed back and forth around the U.S.One day in the parlor of Bert's house where he shared quarters with his son Whitey,I broached the subject of Stanley Ketchel.Bert was about to walk to the bus stop to go down to Tijuana to the off track betting parlor to play the nags.
"After Johnson knocked him(Ketchel) out Willus Britt was never the same. It broke him. Then when Ketchel was killed in Missouri,that finished him off. He died shortly after that,"Bert digressed.Bert would always talk standing holding his right hand on the back of his right hip.
"Didn't his killer say that Ketchel raped his wife?"I asked.
"That was his excuse,but all he and his wife wanted to do is rob him."
"So was Stanley Ketchel as good a fighter as they said he was?"I went on.
"He was good,but he could have never beaten Jack Johnson. He wanted to fight him again,but he would have lost to him a thousand times. Willus Britt knew it,but Ketchel thought he could lick the world."
"Maybe it was better that it ended that way,"I said.
"Sooner or later something like that would have happened,"said Bert as he walked out the door.


Stanley Ketchel

[dagosd2000]

You Better Dig Down

I won't mention his name,but I used to work with a guy when I was at one of the schools along the border. The fella' I'm going to talk about was one of the custodians.I'll call him "Pedro".I think he was born in TJ and went to the public schools down there,but later he came to the States with his parents and became a U.S. citizen. He was also a fight referee.He did most of his refereeing north of the border because he said he'd be lucky to clear 20 bucks refereeing in TJ. The promoters, after the card was over, would cry poor mouth and say the gate was disappointing so take the twenty and be satisfied. "Pedro" also fought a bit in TJ and up here. He was nothing sensational and had only a few fights. I had one of his daughters in my class and she was pretty street smart. All those Mexican kids had a second sense. They liked to goof off most of the time and their grades reflected it,but they didn't care much so long as they got a "D",just so they passed.Their parents worked hard most of their lives and really couldn't set a good academic example in the house. But I'm tellin' ya',it was sure fun working at those schools along the border. The Mexican kids lived in two worlds:the White one and the Mexican one. Sometimes I'd stand outside in front of the school before the opening bell. I'd see the cars pull up to drop their kids off. Most of them had Baja California plates.

The White administrators and staff lived in one world:Whitey's world. They couldn't understand the Mexican kids and that was around 90% of the school's enrollment.The White teachers would get pissed off because the Mexican kids didn't think that what they had to say was so important. The White teachers also didn't like the Mexican kids speaking Mexican all the time with their friends.Oh,the Mexican kids could speak English well enough,but when they talked to their friends it was in Espanol.

One day I'm standing outside in the quad doing lunch supervision. "Pedro" sidled up to me. There was big event that was going to happen during lunch. A group of musicians from TJ were going to play in the quad during lunch time. The name of the group was Los Tucanes de Tijuana. They were very popular in TJ and soon they'd be one of the most popular groups in Mexico and in the Mexican communities in the States.

I'm standing next to "Pedro" as the kids start gathering in mass in the quad. Every kid was there to listen to Los Tucanes.The name of their type of music is "Nortena." Well,the kids,and especially the girls, are going ape over these guys.A few of the White staff crept up to the ranks curious to see what all the fuss was about. Well,I wouldn't call the band members resembling Leonardo DeCaprio or Johnny Depp. They all had paunches and wore cowboy boots and tejanas on their heads. They had big bigotes and had gordo faces. I looked over to the White guys and wanted to hear the commentary.
"What in the hell do these girls see in these guys?"asked one of the palefaces shaking his head.
"Look at them.They're all fat,"exclaimed another vanilla face.
Well ,it went on like that.I knew it would.Funny thing was the White guys were the nerdiest group of social misfits I ever saw. They have an expression in Mexico"Un hombre como un oso es mas hermoso."Loosely translated it means a man who looks like a bear is handsome

Well ,Los Tucanes played on and everyone was dancing like crazy and the White guys were just getting more pissed off.After the lunch bell,the kids didn't want to go back to class and just wanted to hang with the band. We had a Mexican principal and he kind of looked the other way. I began walking with "Pedro" back to my class.
"So how's that new house you built in TJ?"I asked him.
"Beautiful. I went to Rosarito to buy a fountain to put in the patio. Now I'm a real Mexican,"he said laughing.
"Didn't you build the house in Libertad?"
"It's only a few feet from the fence."
"Pedro" broke out some pictures of his new house with the fountain in the patio.Next to the fountain was a custom Harley-real clean.
"I don't ride the bike in TJ," he said. "Not up the hill anyway.They'd steal it from me."
"I understand."
"Roger,you know what they wanted me to do?"
"What?"
"They wanted to dig a tunnel in my yard to go underground under the fence to the U.S, side.They said they'd pay me 10 thousand dollars.'
"What did you do?"
"Fortunately I knew their boss. He sometimes puts on some fights down here. I told him that I didn't want to do it. I was very uneasy about the whole thing,but he told me not to worry and that they'd appraoch someone else.I feel very lucky."
"It's a good thing you were friends with this guy."
"I would have had to cooperste and then I would have been in so deep I couldn't get out."
"You're a lucky man,"I said.

I see that President Trump is in San Diego. He's going to go down to the border to inspect the prototype fences for the border wall.After he looks up to see if they're high enough,he better ask the engineers how far deep they're going to dig down. Like I said,they've got street smarts



La Chona
Los Tucanes de Tiuana

[dagosd2000]

d

[oogiebe]

Great post; great pics; great fighters.

[dagosd2000]

Great post; great pics; great fighters.

Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed them.

[dagosd2000]

Taking A Little Off The Top

Just off the top of my head:When I was helping Archie Moore with his kids at the Any Boy Can Club on Federal Avenue in San Diego ,I overheard Archie say that he had trouble with his feet on the ring canvas with his fight with Floyd Patterson for the heavyweight title.He was telling someone that the mat was too soft. He couldn't gather his feet the way he wanted. He said it was like getting seasick.I had never heard that one before. Fighters are notorious for making excuses when they lose. I bought that reasoning like I did when Duran threw up his hands and said "No mas" because he had eaten a steak for breakfast. But at least Moore didn't quit in the ring.

Muhammad Ali ,when he was winding up his training in Mission Valley for his first fight with Kenny Norton,remarked about his workout partner's boxing attire before he went in the ring to spar 4 rounds. Journeyman heavyweight Tony Doyle was being paid to make Ali break a sweat. The big Irishman was also on the undercard.
"Notice everthing Doyle is wearing is green.His shorts,his t shirt,shoes.I bet even his jockey strap is green," laughed The Greatest.
Ali,as radical as he was with outspoken philosophies ingrained his mantra,was quite a traditionalist when it came to his approach to training. He wore a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants,and brown leather work boots when he did his roadwork. He wore conservative style suits with no loud colors or floppy lapels., He never went in for the Afro or facial hair(except when he got a cut lip training later for Holmes).His tastes in music ran along the lines of Sam Cooke and Brook Benton. He didn't go in for jazz ,and James Brown didn't sing pretty enough for him. In a way,Ali was kind of a square when compared to the shift in Black thinking's tastes in entertainment.

Speaking of Ali,his scheduled sparring session fell through in Tijuana when he was here in San Diego. I think he rethought it.His showboating wouldn't have embraced himself with TJ's boxing public. If anything,he would have been ridiculed unmercifully. But Ali did go down to Tijuana to buy a Reyes heavy punching bag and some training gloves at Deportes Viking in Tijuana. The sporting goods store was frequently visited by fighters from the U.S. side because they sold the Reyes line of boxing gear. Frank Balthazar Sr. told me he took his sons down to Viking to buy some Reyes gloves. I think the store is still there. The picture I took of the store(that I'll post) was taken around ten years ago.You can find Reyes products up here now,but they're not cheap. And you won't get much of a price break if you go shopping in TJ.

I noticed that BoxRec still hasn't posted the results of a few weeks ago of a card at the Caliente Casino in Tijuana. Tiger Small's son Prince was in the main event and won in the 1st round. Tiger called me to check if the results had been delivered to Boxrec. I don't know how that works,but as of yesterday none of those results have been posted.I noticed another fight promoter in Tijuana having the same complaint that outcomes of his matches didn't show up on Boxrec.There's some sort of a communication problem often when fights are held in Mexico. I can imagine what it's like when the fights are staged half way around the world in some little arena out in the boondocks.



Deportes Viking on Constitucion Street in Tijuana



Ali

[oogiebe]

Taking A Little Off The Top

Just off the top of my head:When I was helping Archie Moore with his kids at the Any Boy Can Club on Federal Avenue in San Diego ,I overheard Archie say that he had trouble with his feet on the ring canvas with his fight with Floyd Patterson for the heavyweight title.He was telling someone that the mat was too soft. He couldn't gather his feet the way he wanted. He said it was like getting seasick.I had never heard that one before. Fighters are notorious for making excuses when they lose. I bought that reasoning like I did when Duran threw up his hands and said "No mas" because he had eaten a steak for breakfast. But at least Moore didn't quit in the ring.

Muhammad Ali ,when he was winding up his training in Mission Valley for his first fight with Kenny Norton,remarked about his workout partner's boxing attire before he went in the ring to spar 4 rounds. Journeyman heavyweight Tony Doyle was being paid to make Ali break a sweat. The big Irishman was also on the undercard.
"Notice everthing Doyle is wearing is green.His shorts,his t shirt,shoes.I bet even his jockey strap is green," laughed The Greatest.
Ali,as radical as he was with outspoken philosophies ingrained his mantra,was quite a traditionalist when it came to his approach to training. He wore a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants,and brown leather work boots when he did his roadwork. He wore conservative style suits with no loud colors or floppy lapels., He never went in for the Afro or facial hair(except when he got a cut lip training later for Holmes).His tastes in music ran along the lines of Sam Cooke and Brook Benton. He didn't go in for jazz ,and James Brown didn't sing pretty enough for him. In a way,Ali was kind of a square when compared to the shift in Black thinking's tastes in entertainment.

Speaking of Ali,his scheduled sparring session fell through in Tijuana when he was here in San Diego. I think he rethought it.His showboating wouldn't have embraced himself with TJ's boxing public. If anything,he would have been ridiculed unmercifully. But Ali did go down to Tijuana to buy a Reyes heavy punching bag and some training gloves at Deportes Viking in Tijuana. The sporting goods store was frequently visited by fighters from the U.S. side because they sold the Reyes line of boxing gear. Frank Balthazar Sr. told me he took his sons down to Viking to buy some Reyes gloves. I think the store is still there. The picture I took of the store(that I'll post) was taken around ten years ago.You can find Reyes products up here now,but they're not cheap. And you won't get much of a price break if you go shopping in TJ.

I noticed that BoxRec still hasn't posted the results of a few weeks ago of a card at the Caliente Casino in Tijuana. Tiger Small's son Prince was in the main event and won in the 1st round. Tiger called me to check if the results had been delivered to Boxrec. I don't know how that works,but as of yesterday none of those results have been posted.I noticed another fight promoter in Tijuana having the same complaint that outcomes of his matches didn't show up on Boxrec.There's some sort of a communication problem often when fights are held in Mexico. I can imagine what it's like when the fights are staged half way around the world in some little arena out in the boondocks.



Deportes Viking on Constitucion Street in Tijuana



Ali

I love it!!! Thanks for sharing (again). I think you have a fan!

[dagosd2000]

The Robe

When Muhammad Ali was getting ready to fight Ken Norton in San Diego,Elvis Presley gave Ali a beautiful robe that read"The People's Champion" on the back. Ali said he would wear the robe when he entered the ring. Ali was in the stage of trying to win back the heavyweight title and believed that he was still the best heavyweight in the world. Elvis's gift was a validation of what he believed.

Well.Norton gave Ali a pretty good beating in one of boxing' biggest upsets. I was at the San Diego Sports Arena that night to watch the fight. I couldn't believe how flat Ali looked that night. At the end of the 12th round Norton was pounding Ali against the ropes and he wasn't fighting back. I thought Frank Rustich,the referee,might stop it. Norton won a split decision that should have been a unanimous one. After the decision was announced,Ali turned the robe inside out,put it on his back,and left the ring. He knew he got a whupping that night from Norton.


Elvis Presley

[oogiebe]

The Robe

When Muhammad Ali was getting ready to fight Ken Norton in San Diego,Elvis Presley gave Ali a beautiful robe that read"The People's Champion" on the back. Ali said he would wear the robe when he entered the ring. Ali was in the stage of trying to win back the heavyweight title and believed that he was still the best heavyweight in the world. Elvis's gift was a validation of what he believed.

Well.Norton gave Ali a pretty good beating in one of boxing' biggest upsets. I was at the San Diego Sports Arena that night to watch the fight. I couldn't believe how flat Ali looked that night. At the end of the 12th round Norton was pounding Ali against the ropes and he wasn't fighting back. I thought Frank Rustich,the referee,might stop it. Norton won a split decision that should have been a unanimous one. After the decision was announced,Ali turned the robe inside out,put it on his back,and left the ring. He knew he got a whupping that night from Norton.


Elvis Presley

Wow!

[dagosd2000]

The Robe

When Muhammad Ali was getting ready to fight Ken Norton in San Diego,Elvis Presley gave Ali a beautiful robe that read"The People's Champion" on the back. Ali said he would wear the robe when he entered the ring. Ali was in the stage of trying to win back the heavyweight title and believed that he was still the best heavyweight in the world. Elvis's gift was a validation of what he believed.

Well.Norton gave Ali a pretty good beating in one of boxing' biggest upsets. I was at the San Diego Sports Arena that night to watch the fight. I couldn't believe how flat Ali looked that night. At the end of the 12th round Norton was pounding Ali against the ropes and he wasn't fighting back. I thought Frank Rustich,the referee,might stop it. Norton won a split decision that should have been a unanimous one. After the decision was announced,Ali turned the robe inside out,put it on his back,and left the ring. He knew he got a whupping that night from Norton.


Elvis Presley

Wow!

Thanks

[dagosd2000]

Irish And Tough

Ernest Hemingway describes the central character,Jack Brennan,in his short story,50 Grand as being Irish and tough.In defense of his title,Brennan knows what he's up against:a young tough and strong kid named Walcott that's got everything going for him.Brennan is old and worn. His once peerless boxing skills he's left strewn in all the tank towns and arenas throughout his over 300 fight career.But what he's lost in deft,his mettle is still firm.Let Papa paint a little picture.

Jack doesn't say anything.He just sits there on the bed.He ain't with the others.He's all by himself. He was wearing an old blue jersey and pants and had on boxing shoes.He needed a shave. ...Jack sat there looking Irish and tough.

Sometimes I think the Irish were born with a gene that predisposes them to take a whack at another guy who rubs him the wrong way.Sometimes the other guy doesn't even have to mutter a word. The wrong look...and pow!He finds himself looking up at the ceiling.

I remember back when when I saw Deacon Jones ,the Los Angeles Ram defensive end and Jerry Quarry on a local LA talk show. I believe the announcer was Jim Healy.Jones had just finished 2nd in the MVP voting.Jerry had come off a TKO loss to Joe Frazier. Healy asked the Deacon what was the reason for his success.Meanwhile, Quarry is looking bored.
"Well,"said the confident big guy,"I owe it all to my confidence.If I set out to do something I just put my mind to it. For example if I wanted to be the heavyweight champ of the world I could do it."
That got Jerry squirming in his chair. He began to metamorphisize into being Irish and tough.Like a jack in the box he leaps up and stands over a now slinking Jones.
"So you think you're a fighter!,"snarls Quarry. "Get up out of that chair. I'll kick your a-- right here and now!"
Well Healy signaled for a commercial break. When they returned to the studio,Jones had left the bench.

Well you Irish bums,it's your day today.i can call you "bums" because I'm sitting at my keyboard. Happy St. Patty's. May God be with you,but not too soon!


Jerry Quarry

[dagosd2000]

Backyard Genius

Mexicans will come up with any excuse for having a party.Whether it's up here or down across the border,a party with plenty of food,booze,and music is pretty much the standard for blowing off steam.The average Mexican,especially,the native sons,work hard.Their hands are rough and calloused.Under the fingernails are dirt and grime. Physical labor goes with the territory for the most part.In a way it's a sign of manhood to come home with a sweat soaked shirt and dust on the back of your hands and forearms.A man(or a woman)has earned their keep if their back is sore at the end of the day of working. A bank president may have manicured fingernails,but he sat at a desk all day going over figures and reports. The professor may have read a lot of books,but his eyestrain is all the physical malady he has to show for teaching what the principle products of Durango are.That's how the poor look at it.Often.It's not quite fair,but when you work up a sweat knowing that college was out of the question because you had to feed yourself and your family and nobody was going to give you nothing,you can make that judgement.Besides,it costs money to go to college,money that needs to be spent on the immediate necessities.

I'm going this Saturday to a friends little girl's birthday party. She is going to be one year old. My friend is one of those multitude of TJ boxers that right now seems to be swimming upstream. He's 21 years old and has just about as many losses as wins on his record.I don't tell him anyrhing,but the day is coming when he either has to think of getting up to U.S. some way or find something else to make some money in Tijuana. I'm afraid he might approach the cartels for something,but again I wouldn't say anything.Hey,I'm doing OK.I never had to fight for a living or sell drugs. I got a job being a teacher after going to college. Who am I to tell him to believe in truth ,justice,and good government bull---t.

The little girl's party is going to be in a section of town called Colonia Obrera. I haven't been there in years. My wife,before I married her,I used to live there. After getting hitched,I started my family in Obrera. See,i wasn't exactly Rockefeller either. My friend said that he was going to hire a band that played tambora music like the sound you hear in Sinaloa. They play loud and I'm sure that will lift the spirits of all that have that grime under their fingernails.

I've always thought most of the best musicians are the ones that nobody's heard of. In Mexico,they're usually the local groups that play at parties for weddings,funerals,divorces,15 year olds,divorces,or anything that you can think up a reason for.

I was looking on YouTube for an example of what kind of music the everyday Mexican likes to listen to and dance when he has a gathering. I'll post this group They're up in LA. Listen to this kid with the glasses play the tarola(snare drum).If he was a fighter,he'd be the champ. Check the expression on his face.Move over Ringo.



El Toro Mambo -Go For It Kid



My son,Ramon, on the right with his pals.Colonia Obrera

[oogiebe]

Backyard Genius

Mexicans will come up with any excuse for having a party.Whether it's up here or down across the border,a party with plenty of food,booze,and music is pretty much the standard for blowing off steam.The average Mexican,especially,the native sons,work hard.Their hands are rough and calloused.Under the fingernails are dirt and grime. Physical labor goes with the territory for the most part.In a way it's a sign of manhood to come home with a sweat soaked shirt and dust on the back of your hands and forearms.A man(or a woman)has earned their keep if their back is sore at the end of the day of working. A bank president may have manicured fingernails,but he sat at a desk all day going over figures and reports. The professor may have read a lot of books,but his eyestrain is all the physical malady he has to show for teaching what the principle products of Durango are.That's how the poor look at it.Often.It's not quite fair,but when you work up a sweat knowing that college was out of the question because you had to feed yourself and your family and nobody was going to give you nothing,you can make that judgement.Besides,it costs money to go to college,money that needs to be spent on the immediate necessities.

I'm going this Saturday to a friends little girl's birthday party. She is going to be one year old. My friend is one of those multitude of TJ boxers that right now seems to be swimming upstream. He's 21 years old and has just about as many losses as wins on his record.I don't tell him anyrhing,but the day is coming when he either has to think of getting up to U.S. some way or find something else to make some money in Tijuana. I'm afraid he might approach the cartels for something,but again I wouldn't say anything.Hey,I'm doing OK.I never had to fight for a living or sell drugs. I got a job being a teacher after going to college. Who am I to tell him to believe in truth ,justice,and good government bull---t.

The little girl's party is going to be in a section of town called Colonia Obrera. I haven't been there in years. My wife,before I married her,I used to live there. After getting hitched,I started my family in Obrera. See,i wasn't exactly Rockefeller either. My friend said that he was going to hire a band that played tambora music like the sound you hear in Sinaloa. They play loud and I'm sure that will lift the spirits of all that have that grime under their fingernails.

I've always thought most of the best musicians are the ones that nobody's heard of. In Mexico,they're usually the local groups that play at parties for weddings,funerals,divorces,15 year olds,divorces,or anything that you can think up a reason for.

I was looking on YouTube for an example of what kind of music the everyday Mexican likes to listen to and dance when he has a gathering. I'll post this group They're up in LA. Listen to this kid with the glasses play the talero(snare drum).If he was a fighter,he'd be the champ. Check the expression on his face.Move over Ringo.



El Toro Mambo -Go For It Kid



My son,Ramon, on the right with his pals.Colonia Obrera

Where do I sign up!

[dagosd2000]

I'm sure I'll have something to talk about when I get home

[oogiebe]

I'm sure I'll have something to talk about when I get home

Excellent.

[dagosd2000]

The local Mariachis in my wife's hometown. Jiquilpan,Michoacan

[oogiebe]

The local Mariachis in my wife's hometown. Jiquilpan,Michoacan

My invitation must've been lost in the mail!