Classic American West Coast Boxing

[dagosd2000]

A Citizen But Not A Paisano

Oscar De La Hoya never lost to a Mexican fighter,national nor Chicano.His meteoric start included lopsided victories over Miguel Angel Gonzalez,Rafel Ruelas,Genaro Hernandez,Jorge Paez,and Mexico's most renown fighter,Julio Cesar Chavez.Later,he'd add Fernando Vargas and Yory Boy Campos as notches on the butt of his gun. He was the biggest draw in the southland by far.His following across the boxing community was immense. He made over 700 million dollars just with his pay per view fights.He had multiple title belts in his trophy case.When the Staples Center in downtown LA. opened,they unveiled a statue of De La Hoya that was alongside sports immortals Magic Johnson and Wayne Gretzky. After fighting he became one of the most powerful boxing promoters with his Golden Boy Promotions. He's been a community leader donating time and money to LA's struggling neighborhoods.In 2002 the president of Mexico made him an honorary Mexican citizen.

I remember I was in Mexico when in 1992 De La Hoya won the gold medal in boxing as a flyweight. The Mexican sports announcer nonchalantly reported the result at the end of the broadcast.
"The American Oscar De La Hoya also won a gold medal in the flyweight category."
That was a wrap. No fanfare.No bravado.No sounding of trumpets.


As De La Hoya's career took off,it was becoming clear that the republic of Mexico was not warming up to this guy.De La Hoya never fought in Mexico. He married,first a gringa,then opted for a Puerto Rican. The southland was going ape,but Mexico was hoping that De La Hoya would slip on a banana peel. That skin would be in the figure of Julio Cesar Chavez. I remember when De La Hoya cut Chavez in the opening round of the first fight.Chavez took desperate action ,but De La Hoya stood his ground. In the 4th round it was a bloody massacre. That loss by Mexico's hero left a bad taste in the mouths of the aficianados below the border.They didn't want to give De La Hoya an ounce of credit. They began to really dislike him.There was a rematch and again De La Hoya was the dominant force. He dominated the most macho fighter in Mexico.


After beating Chavez twice,the boxing public in Mexico was routing for the other guy when De La Hoya stepped into the ring. After giving away the last two rounds against Trinidad,De La Hoya never won another big fight. Freddie Roach once said that De La Hoya had a confidence problem. He sure didn't have a lack of will when faced another Mexican.But he came up a cropper against Mosley,Hopkins,Pacquiao,and Mayweather. When De La Hoya was about to fight PacMan,the Mexican public were licking their chops.They always liked Manny.He put everything on the line when he fought. Nothing tentative about his performances. No hesitations about his strategy.I remember when the fight ended and there was De La Hoya sitting on his stool. He then sprinted across the ring to Manny to congratulate him. My eyes rolled with that one.When De La Hoya was signed for another mega fight,this one with Pretty Boy,I saw that Mexico was going to give De La Hoya a pass this time. Mexican fight fans didn't care for Maywether's flashy gangsta' hype.They were willing to side with Oscar in this one. But De La Hoya did hid disappointing act and the Mexican's threw the towel at him.

It's been almost 10 years since De La Hoya laced up the gloves.in this millennial world,De La Hoya is just another boxing promoter,a very wealthy one. Mexico has put their faith and hope with Canelo Alvarez He's one of them. No East LA Mexican.But the redhead got lucky coming away with a draw against that Ukranian. A lot of Mexicans winced at that decision. And now Canelo got caught using PEDs that he said he got into his system eating carne asada. The rematch with GGG is supposed to be in September.Let's hope Canelo doesn't have any confidence issues. I know Mexico still has their hopes up.

Oscar De La Hoya

[dagosd2000]

Across The River Styx

Last week when I drove out to the desert I made a quick stop crossing the border at Yuma,Arizona into a dusty little town called San Luis Colorado.There's not much traffiic going in and out of San Luis Colorado.I looked up the population of San Luis Colorado and the census count is around 180,000,but it seems smaller than that.The All American Canal separates the two cities aside from the border fence.. I've been to the town several times before.I drove through once. Me and the wife were on a bus on our way to Michoacán when the bus had to stop there because that's one of Mexico's ports of entry for foreign visitors. I was the only gringo on the bus,but the bus would have stopped there anyway just to comply with regulations.I had my tourist visa in hand waiting for the Mexican immigration official to put his stamp on it but it was 3 in the morning and he didn't want to interrupt his sleep so he didn't emerge from his booth and waved the bus through without bothering to stamp my visa

There wasn't much movement in San Luis Colorado that hot dry windless afternoon. Some tourists had parked their cars on thee US side and walked across.I wasn't going to do that. Not when the thermometer was bursting at 110 degrees. Besides,I have one of those Sentri cards that you can get through Homeland Security that let's you cross back into Mexico without having to wait in the "regular" line saving yourself a few hours crossing time. But San Luis Colorado has only a few lanes going back to the United States. There's no "Sentri line" because there's not enough traffic to warrant a "Sentri line." But I had the urge to cross into Mexico that day. My curiosity wouldn't let me ignore San Luis Colorado..But once I crossed my enthusiasm quickly ebbed. San Luis Colorado reminded me of all those border towns ,with the exception of Tijuana. Those Mexican towns are dying on the vine. The reason is that that US towns that share the border don't generate enough work for the Mexicans to cross and find employment. If San Diego was to shut down the border to the Tijuaneros,TJ would become a ghost town

After crossing into Mexico I drove around a little and parked my car near a park. I got out,walked around,stopped at a stand and bought a big cup of Jamaica juice. As I sipped my juice sitting on a park bench,I watched the people slowly movibg in the park. Some were resting on benches like I me. Some mothers were with their kids putting them on the swings and monkey bars. Vendors standing behind their hand painted carts ready to sell everything from mixed fruit cocktails inside big paper cups, raspados,tacos,tortas,cotton candy,large ewers of fruit juice with chunks of ice bobbing on the top,and sodas that were buried in big ice chests. The park provided enough shade trees that drew the tired who were in no hurry to take refuge.

I sipped my Jamaica ,not in any rush. Very little noise emanated from the park. The heat stifled anything that required exertion. I sat there thinking how boring everything seemed. Even a small burg like Yuma was a lot more peppy than this place. On top of all that I thought about all the people in San Luis Colorado that didn't have air cionditioning nor access to any. But Mexicans are used to bearing up to difficulties. I don't think I've ever heard a Mexican complai about not having AC.Who would sympatize anyway?

But then my mind touched upon something about San Luis Colorado. I remember Gaspar Ortega once talking to me about how early in his career he fought many times in San Luis Colorado. He said that he was born in Mexcali,the capitol of Baja,California that was on the border about 50 miles west of San Luis Colorado. But in order to earn a fight in Mexicali,and then graduate to the farthest border town west,Tijuana,Gaspar had to win in San Luis Colorado. And it wasn't just one fight,but many fights. Ortega told me if he hadn't come out on top in San Luis Colorado he probably would have had to find work in the fields. Maybe he could have gotten into the US Brasero Program and stooped over in the hot sun picking lettuce.Just thinking of that must have kept Gaspar going to the gym everyday.

But we know that Gaspar Ortega didn't fail in San Luis Colorado. He went up the ladder fighting just about everyone worth mentioning in the lightweight and welterweight divisions. We saw him fight on television.He was a staple of the Friday Night Fights..He foughtin Madison Square Garden. He had a shot against Emile Griffith for the title. Today, Gaspar lives in New York City where he was a well known popular figure in boxing circles. His son ,Mike,is a referee in New York.


Gaspar told me he has no great desire to return to Mexico, even if it's for a visit. I told him the gym in Tijuana that the city named in his honor had become a sanctuary for drug addicts.He remembered when they invited him back to Tijuana to open the facilty.Today, the windows are broken,the walls defaced with grafitti,and there's a heavy padlock on the door. Gaspar just shrugged when I told him. He gave it a little laugh like it was going to happen that way sooner or later.It didn't seem to bother him.


As I finished my Jamaica sitting on that park bench in San Luis Colorado,I was thinking what it would have been like to see Gaspar Ortega begin his fighting career in that far away little Mexican town cornered in the Sonoran desert I bet he fought like a wildcat.


Gaspar Ortega and my wife,Maria. We all had a bite to eat at the Carl's Junior down the street from the Marriot Hotel that was hosting the World Boxing Hall of Fame convention.

[dagosd2000]

The Third Man

The head custodian at a school where i was working also moonlighted as a boxing referee. Jose Cobian is still a referee in the southland area and also from time to time will ply his trade across the border. Jose takes referreing the fights all in stride. I don't know how he got his start,but at just about every boxing match I've attended in the last ten years,Jose is on call for at least several of the matches. He has a bantam looking frame,sports a shaved head,and a foo man chu mustache.I've never heard any controversy with his decisions or handling.No bias comes with his mantrs,never giving an opinion one way or the other about a fighter. They are all on an even plane.What unfolds in the ring then will dictate Jose's actions. After the fight is over Jose will take a seat in the audience usually blending in . There's no crowd bekoning for his autograph. But that's a good sign. If no one remembers the referee,he must have been competant in his duties. The last time i saw him at the fights was several years ago.We got to know each other and became friends at the school. I had his daughter,Esther,as a student. After graduating she returned to the sight as a teacher's aide and asked to help in my classroom. She wasn't a boxing aficianado,but wasn't shy to take in a card when her dad was officiating.


Jose,naturally,preferred working on the US side of the line. The pay was guaranteed and it was better than what he could cash in than what they doled out in Tijuana.
"Sometimes the commission would want me to referee the fights in Tijuana,"he told me."In the beginning I was in no position to turn them down or I wouldn't get any work.But those promoters down there would keep you in the dark about the money.They'd say something like 'Jose the gate was disappointing tonight' so they'd hand me 200 pesos(around 16 dollars)for my services.Compl;aining wouldn't have done any good. I couldn't go to the commission down there. They got theirs.I had to grin and bear it."


Jose has earned his dues.He doesn't work across the border anymore. That's left to the novice referees who ,once like Jose, did it for the love of the sport. I'm sure Jose still loves boxing,but his emotions have become more altruistic.He sees the pitfalls with the sport.Some things he knows will never change.But there's nothing he can do about it nor does he want to exercise any attention to renovation. He keeps a low profile.
"This isn't a sport for sissies,"he says."If you can't take the heat stay out of the kitchen."


I've known Jose for over 20 years. His job as a referee is a hell of a lot easier than his custodial job at the school.
"If I have the backing of the principal I'm OK."
The custodial crews in the school distrct where I worked by the border are just about 100 percent Mexicsan .The head custodians,with only ione exception that I saw,never could get his workers to pull their weight.
"When you're part of the regular crew you hate your boss the head guy.Then when the head custodian moves on one of the regular crew gets promoted and then everyone hates him,"he told me.
"I know.I see it all the time,"I said.
"But Jose Broz is the principal where I'm at know.He asked for me so there's no problem."
"Jose was my vice principal at Southwest.He's the poster child for the district.He was one in a gang but straightened himself out. Now he's a principal. He's a good man."


I've seen Joe Broz at the fights. He'd be there because he enjoyed the fights. He'd also made his presence because he was Jose's friend.Joe Broz was my friend too. In high school he was in a drop out prevention progam.He was gang banging. But he met a girl who believed in him and he got away from the life. They got married and started a family.He graduated from college and turned his focus to being an educator in his old school district.I always worked better with the Mexican principals than the anglos. the Mexican principals knew that even though I wasn't a Mexican,I knew what they knew. Like them I lived in two worlds. But not being Mexican is sometimes an advantage because most of the enemies of the Mexican assembly in that district were other Mexicans. I was a friend against outsiders. I was in their confidence. Candid conversations were natural expressions.


Last week I was at one of the money exchange houses in an Ysidro with my wife. Who do I see in line.Jose Cobian.
"Hey Jose what are you doing here?"I beamed.
"Roger,how's it going man?"he beamed back giving me a big abrazo.
As we waited in line waiting to convert our dollars into pesos I asked him how Joe Broz was doing.
"He died."
I stood there motionless.
"What happened?"I murmered.
"It was cancer.He was going to open the new school but he got sick and died.It was very sad."


News like that always puts thngs in perspective for me. Boxing matches are part of the diversions in this life. We strive to stay happy. If we're happy that's all that matters. Working with Joe Broz always made me happy.Now that he's gone I think of all those good times and I am happy.



Joe Broz and Jose Cobian

[dagosd2000]

Almost Half My Life

During the 1970's the Southland was a base of operations for many world championship fighters.The flyweight champion,Miguel Canto could box as good as Pep. The Mexican fans referred to him as "Maestro",the teacher.The bantanweights were probably the deepest division.Ruban Olivares.Chucho Castillo,Rafael Herrera,Rodolfo Martinez;they left hooked their way to prominence filling the seats every time out. Vicente Saldivar was a rock.He got stronger as the fight wore on.The southpaw featherweight broke down his opposition as expected like the sun always rising.. Duran had a lock on the lightweight division.But up a weight class was Mantequilla.He defended his title 14 times. A little later there was Bobby and Danny.Zarate and Zamora were no strangers.Mando had fling with the lightweight crownJulio Cesar Chavez won his first title in Los Angeles. Norton and Quarry represented the big boys with honor.The Olympic Auditorium,the LA Sports Arena,later the Fabulous Forum,even Dodger Stadium and the LA Coliseum would have to used to contain the big crowds.I thought it would never come to an end.But it did. It was a stagger to the finish line,but it all went away.At least the hysteria had died to a hiccup.

Oh,there's still fights in the area from time to time.Some very big fights.But they don't happen a a regular basis anymore.A few years ago I went up to The Forum to watch Roman Gonzalez fight for a super flyweight title. He was,at the time, being mentioned as P4P the best.Gonzalez won.He looked very sharp. Everything that was expected from him,he delivered But what struck me about that night was a sort of emptiness inside the venue. I'd seen some pretty good toe to toes back when I was sowing my oats. I'll never forget when Chucho Castillo lost to Lionel Rose inside the Fabulous Forum .The Mexican fans,and there were plenty of them,didn't concur with the verdict so they decided to dismantle The Forum .After the riot ceased you could have removed the adjective"Fabuous" and substituted the word "Ruinous."

Don't get me wrong.I don't condone rowdiness that emanates into property and sometimes human damage.But I was a lot younger then,and a lot more stupider. I have to admit I even grabbed a chair and gave it a hurl.However I made sure that my aim didn't have anybody in my crosshairs. I hadn't had that much to drink.


Today,as I sit and write this piece,I think of how boxing was back then. I think about how I behaved 40 years ago.It's going on half my life.Back then I didn't think that much.Somehow I miss being a little more stupid



"Rodolfo "Gato" Gonzalez. Another crowd pleaser that set off a few firecrackers from the bleachers.

[dagosd2000]

A Gentle Lie

It had to been sometime during the 70's. Me and the wife got away from San Diego and booked a stay at the Dunes Hotel in Las Vegas for a few days. The Dunes has been torn down since then.We paid for one of those package deals:flight,hotel,and car.Quite inexpensive. They have similar packages today,but I don't have a yen to stay in one of those super mega hotels that have taken over. A lot of the smaller casinos have dried up. Not enough action to keep the doors open and the lights on.Vegas as little appeal with me anymore. My wife likes to play the slots,but you can find those machines a dime a dozen at the Indian casinos close to home.

We always stayed at The Dunes.They had good shows and it didn't cost an arm and a leg back then.You got to know the dealers and the bell captains,the bartenders and the cocktail waitresses. There's not that intimacy anymore unless you're one of those "whales" that throws around a million dollars like it is chump change.I remember one time Louie Prima was playing in the lounge for nothin'.He had this tenor sax man,Sam Butera,who really got things hopping.Best show I'd ever seen. There is a little irony with this picture. Prima's ex wife ,Keely Smith, was soloing in the main ballroom that night sans Louie.Saw her perform too. Keely could sing the blues,a ballad,and swing like crazy.

Like I said, I had rented a car,but I'd only use it if we wanted to see Hoover Dam or travel farther to get a load of the Grand Canyon. Most of the time on The Strip we just walked.It would be plenty hot and the blocks on the strip were like mirages.They seemed average in length,but once you got to striding along it took forever to get to the next hotel. Caesar's Palace was up the street from the Dunes.

One afternoon we decided to take a hike to Caesar's.We passed the fountains where Evel Kneivel crash landed after a gutsy leap over the jets of water.As we approached the steps leading into the casino I saw a big figure of a man wearing a tan leisure suit. He had on this big Stetson and was acknowledging everyone that passed through.It didn't take me long to decipher that the man greeting everyone at the entrance was Joe Louis.

Well,I was still in my 20's and followed boxing ever since I was a kid,and now there's Joe Louis standing in front of me.Right away I'm kicking myself for not having a camera.But I just couldn't walk by Joe Louis and wave or something so I engaged him with a question that I'm sure he'd never been asked before."Hey Joe who do you think the best heavyweight is?"
I thought he'd might dismiss my mundane query,but he warmed up to provide an answer.
"Why I'd have to say Ali is the best," he said with that slow beautiful voice.
He was smiling and didn't seem at all bothered by a question he'd been asked a million times. I was at a loss for another penetrating question and started to make my move up the steps.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?"he asked looking at my wife.
"Oh,I'm sorry. This is my wife Maria."
"You're wife is very pretty,"said Joe sincerely.
I felt like a rank amateur.
"You have a good time at Caesar' now,"he said as he shook my hand.
I thanked him and said it was an honor to meet him. As I began to walk up the stairs,he caught my eye.
"Who do you think is the best heavyweight out there?"
Here's Joe Louis asking for MY opinion.
"Well ,I 'd say Ali too,but you could have beaten him."
"I don't know about that,but thank you. Now you all enjoy the rest of the day."
As I entered the casino I thought about Ali fighting Louis both in their primes. I've never envisioned Louis beating him unless he got lucky like when Cooper dropped him,but Cooper dropped him as th bell sounded. Louis would have to get lucky early in the round.No,I don't think Joe Louis could have caught up with Ali. He would have won everytime out. But if we were living in The Twilight Zone and they could make that match,I'd be in Joe Louis's corner hoping he got lucky.

[dagosd2000]

3 Worth Mentioning

When the Mexican fighters had a lock on the bantamweight division in the 70's, I remember three rockem' sockem' punchers who always put everything on the line when they entered the ring:Octavio"Famoso" Gomez,Julio Guerrero,and Raul Cruz. I saw all three of them fight in person. They either took you out or they wound up counted out on the ring mat.


I saw "Famoso" beat Art Hafey at the old downtown bullring in Tijuana. Art beat him in the first fight.The bullring the night I was there was packed to the doors.Both boys traded big shots,but Gomez had more gas left in his tank at the end. Hafey didn't look himself. I think that's when he was experiencing nerve damage in his arms.Art fought a couple of years more before Danny Lopez put an end to any of Art's title aspirations. However,Gomez caught a second wind.After beating Hafey in TJ,Gomez decisioned Little Red in Anaheim.Later, he earned a victory over Rafael Herrera. at the Olympic Auditorium. Then there was the rematch with Lopez at the Forum.Danny won the battle of exchanges in three fast rounds,and then it was back to fighting in the small arenas below the border for "Famoso.". However,when the great Eder Jofre came back to win the featherweight crown,he let "Famoso" have the chance to finish with a bang in a championship match in Eder's backyard in Sao Paulo,Brazil. "Famoso" caught a little spark of lightning in that bottle and lost a very close decision.By the way,I'll always remember Gomez in the ring wearing his trunks with his nickname"Famoso" stenciled in big letters on the pant leg.

Like "Famaso" Gomez,Julio Guerrero was from Mexico City.He was another guy who thought fighting defensively would bottle up his forward moving assault of throwing non stop leather. Again in the old Tijuana bullring I saw Guerrero fight the very well conditioned Venice Borkhorsor,the Thai world flyweight champ who was moving up in weight.Borkhorsor was a southpaw and Guerrero's main weapon was his left hook to the liver. But the Thai kept his right arm glued to his side and every time Julio let loose with his "gancho" it bounced off Borkhorsor's elbow I kept thinking if Julio had something else in his arsenal,but he tried and tried again to penetrate Borkhorsor's defense with the left hook.Julio was spent after six rounds and the fight came to an end

Raul Cruz was from my wife's home state in Mexico,Michoacan. Also in TJ,but this time at the Municipal Auditorium,I saw Cruz beat the Venezualin,,Alfredo Marcano.It was another trade for trade barrage,both boys staggering each other ebb and flow. Cruz was fighting up a weight at 125(he would finish his career at featherweight)and was the stronger fighter,finally breaking down Marcano in the 7th round.Later in his career he made a quick trip to Japan to fight Shibata and the fight lasted long enough for Cruz to catch the next flight back to Mexico.with nothing to show.Shibata had stunned the aficianados by wearing down the once untiring Vicente Saldivar to win the featherweight championship, I was there that night. They thought Shibata would be a walkover for Saldivar so instead of booking the fight in the bullring,the match took place in the Municipal Auditorium. The fans walked out shell shocked.

For some reason I always put those three battlers in the same picture. They typified that expression,"He fought like a Mexican".They didn't always win,but when I think of that expression,my eyes get a little watery.



Tijuana Municipal Auditorium

[dagosd2000]

Two For the Price Of None

"Well,I didn't vote for him,"said the little man with the horned rimmed glasses.
He was standing face to face with a taller man.Both men held their hands clasped behind their backs as they talked.
"To think that he wanted for us to pay his airfare and put him up in a hotel,"said the taller man.
They were conversing with each other inside the lobby of the Marriott Hotel by the Los Angeles International Airport in Inglewood. The shorter man would rise up on his toes when he talked.His pasty face and thin lips offered nothing for a face that was topped by sandy hair that was parted on the side.A slim build garbed with cream colored slacks and a tan sport shirt buttoned to the collar seemed to coincide with his diminuity. His gray eyes fluttered like he had a tic when he was making a point.The taller man had blotchy skin and bushy eyebrows that fluttered up and down over his pale green eyes when he spoke.He also was slim of build and wore a similar wardrobe as the shorter man except the color of his slacks was powder blue and his shirt was long sleeved also buttoned at the collar. Both men had on brown hush puppy shoes. They were members of the World Boxing Hall of Fame inductee committee. They were in aggravated about with Pernell Whitaker. Whitaker had garnered enough votes to get inducted into World Boxing Hall of Fame.. These two were upset with the final vote.
"I hear he didn't show up today."said the shorter man rocking on the balls of his feet.
"That's fine with me,"said the taller man."I didn't vote for him."


The World Boxing Hall of Fame banquet to honor the inductees,I believe in 2011. was their last presentation.There just wasn't enough money raised to keep things afloat. I just happened to catch this conversation when I was in the lobby watching my wife talk to Gaspar Ortega and his wife. Ortega and my wife had lived in Tijuana and they were talking over old times.But the tone of the voices of the two men facing each other in the lobby was raised so anyone within a hundred miles could hear their opinions about how Pernell Whitaker was an unworthy honoree.

I remember some of the members of WBHF council would handout their business cards around the hotel. All the cards would have the name of the person's business on the front and then ,on the corner at the bottom,the WBHF logo. It was like a detective flashing his shield. I think they were trying to impress and make people feel envious. There was some talk about getting me in that circle,but nothing came of it because the WBHF was at the end of its road. I said to myself if I did become a part of this group,I wouldn't have that logo on my business card.

To think someone would get upset to disqualify Pernell Whitaker because he wanted the WBHF to pick up the tab seemed petty.I know Lennox Lewis was inducted at that time. Did he have to pay his way from England to pick up his award? I know after the ceremony was over,he and his wife caught that night's flight back across the pond. As Lewis was making his speach on the dais,I couldn't help notice that his wife was nodding on and off-probably jetlag.

Pernell Whitaker since retiring from fighting has, like so many other fighters,great and not so,,is a ship without a rudder. Squandering his millions,marital problems,cocaine use -all these difficulties culminating with Whitaker evicting his mother from the house he bought for her,have dumped vinegar on the sweet life of the Sweet Pea. But to kick him to the curb by two twerps because he can't come up with the dough to make it to an institution that wants to induct him into their hall of fame-I wonder what those two did with all their business cards with the WBHF logos on the bottom? I bet they still have their cards and show them to all their friends.



Pernell Whitaker today

[dagosd2000]

Bad Casting

The other night I was watching the movie the Harder They Fall starring Humphrey Bogart.The film was scripted from Budd Shulberg's novel by the same name.Bogart played the role of Eddie Willis a newspaper reporter who's in need of employment. He's approached by an unsavory character by the name of Nick Benko played by Rod Sieiger. Benko wants to promote a big stiff of an Argentine heavyweight by the name of Toro Moreno,played by Mike Lane,to eventually fight for the heavyweight championship.The champ,a pug by the name of Buddy Brannen.Max Baer,once a real heavyweight champ played the part of Brannen.

The road for Toro's quest for the title is all fixed by Benko,but Benko needs a scribe to get Toro's story in the headlines of the sports pages.Benko approaches Willis to take on the responsibility of turning Toro's name into a household word. Benko tells Willis that he'll start Toro career against a bunch of tomato cans out West who are in on the hanky panky. All Willis has to do is write it up that Toro is the second coming of Dempsey. The irony of this scam is that Toro and his manager believe that everthing is on the up and up. Toro is the real article.

Toro's first big "test" is against the ex champion,Gus Dundee,played by another former fighter,Pat Comiskey. (Baer had upset Comiskey in a fight that enabled Baer to re establish himself against Lou Nova who had beaten him once before.Nova disposed of Max a second time,the fight ending Max's career).Dundee lost his title to Brannen and in the process wound up with a brain injury. But Dundee agrees to go in the tank against Toro.The fight ends tragically with Dundee dying in the aftermath. Toro feels quilty and wants to return to Argentina,but everyone in on the fix knows that the punishment dealt out by Brannen against Dundee in the prior fight was the cause of Dundee's brain injury.

Now I'll get to my point. Brannen(and now i'll refer to him as Baer)is upset that the papers are saying that Toro's blows caused Dundee's death. Baer gripes that the world should know it was HIS punches that led to Dundee's demise.Baer is sitting ringside gloating that he killed Dundee and that he wants to dish out a similar result against Toro. Baer knows that when they get together for the title, the fight will be on the level. I was a little taken aback that Baer would agree to those lines depicting what he did to Dundee and how he wants to exert the same damage to Toro.The parallel of Baer's beating of Ernie Schaaf and his pummeling of Dundee in the Harder they Fall is obvious. Toro is a take on Primo Carnera who fought Ernie Schaaf after Baer had hurt him real bad in their fight. Schaaf died in the ring against Carnera,but it was commonly agreed that it was Baer's shots that injured Schaaf's brain. Compound that scenario with Baer's accidental killing of Frankie Campbell and I'm incredulous why Baer would quote that script in that movie. Watching him spout those lines with such swagger,I thought was disgusting..

I know it's only a movie,but what happened to Gus Dundee in the Harder They Fall-well,they could have hired someone else except Max Baer to play the role of Buddy Brannen.Better yet,Baer could have just said "No."


Max Baer

[dagosd2000]

Real Life Superman

I see there's a discussion about Jack O'Halloran. What was his merits as a fighter? I think his record speaks for itself. He was a target for Foreman,Lyle,and Mac Foster,all big punchers.He won a close decision over Cleveland Williams in "The Big Cat's" backyard.He split two decisions with Henry Clark,a pretty good boxer,and he lost to Ken Norton,also in ten rounds. The Clark and Norton fights took place in the old Coliseum in San Diego.At that time in the early70's, I think Big Jack was a bigger draw than Norton who began fighting out of San Diego.I saw all three of those fights and it was standing room only. Just about everyone attending was there to see an O'Halloran victory. The Norton fight was interesting. It was a carnival atmosphere inside the Coliseum.I saw fans dressed in togas,gladiator outfits,and one guy was inside a grizzly bear suit. Norton may have been around longer in this Navy town,but I'd say just about all of the noise was for Jack.I was pulling for O'Halloran too. I was hoping that Norton would hit the wall somewhere in the middle of the fight, as he seldom did,and then Jack would put him away. But Norton ,after getting destroyed by Jose Luis Garcia,had been seeing a hypnotist to break through his mid round fatigue problems, and still showed plenty of stamina by the sixth round. Then Norton clipped Big Jack on the chin and he went down like a brick wall crumbling. The ring registered an 8.5 on the Richter Scale. Jack got up,but the knockdown was enough for Norton to salt away the win.

O'Halloran was as big the Emerald Isle. He was Irish and tough,but that sturdiness was just about his strongest trait.Six foot six and a pan that could scare people into a trauma ward.He was hairy all over and even had one eyebrow that traversed across the bridge of his nose. But for as tall as he was he had a short reach and was an arm puncher.His footwork didn't make anyone forget about Muhammad Ali and I don't think he kidded himself about how high he would rise in the division. He was maneuvering for a big fight,and payday, with Ali,but when he was stopped by Larry Middleton,O'Halloran realized he'd never get that chance. I saw his last fight in San Diego when he was halted by Howard Smith.


After boxing he found a niche in Hollywood. He played a lot of big ogre type parts on the celluloid, He opened a string of small film studios,and wrote an autobiography.The news reported that a gang of thugs kidnapped him,but after getting him in the car they let him off down the street.I guess they didn't know what they were going to do with him.O'Halloran claimed his biological father was Albert Anastasia of the notorious Murder Incorporated.

I had a short conversation with O'Halloran when he was training in San Diego.He told me that ,in so many words , if you can project a self image that the public will buy into,you've won half the battle.I think a lot of people judged O'Halloran by his looks:a big dumb lug of a pug. But O'Halloran was knowledgeable,articulate,and had a robust sense of humor. They say he had a beef with Christopher Reeve shooting those Superman movies. I think they got it wrong.O'Halloran would have been a better Super Hero. :TU




George Reeves. He was the only Superman for me. I grew up watching him on TV.Christopher Reeves,may he rest in peace,never did nothing for me.

[dagosd2000]

Echoes

There are very few big fights in Mexico anymore. Cities like San Antonio,Los Angeles,and of course,Las Vegas are the sites for the big fights when a Mexican fighter is going to be showcased across the boxing spectrum. When Canelo fought Triple G, that was billed as the Fight Of The Year,the venue was The Mobile Arena in Las Vegas. To add insult to injury,the fight took place on September 16th,Mexican Independence Day. But there were plenty of Mexicans in attendance,Chicano and nationals. If they could afford the price of admission,they'd make the trek cheering for Canelo regardless if that fight was going to be held in ,let's say,Timbuktu.Today, for the arenas and stadiums in Mexico are left the crumbs. For sure if a hot Mexican prospect wants to establish himself,he has to work his way through the dusty towns and dank enclosements that dot the republic. But once the top promoters recognize that fighter's value,it's time to sign for the on the dotted line for the big bucks and the title shots. The big fights will not take place near their ranchitas.It's a giant step,but that's what they're in it for. Go "norte" and strike it big.

But here I'll go again.I remember when all the good and great that Mexico could put inside the ring had,for nothing else but for tradition,don the gloves inside the Arena Coliseo in Mexico City.The Arena Coliseo was to Mexico as significant a venue as Madison Square Garden in the Apple.Make an impromptu list:Baby Arizmendi,Kid Azteca,Raton Macias,Joe Medel,Joe Becerra,Ruben Olivares,Vicente Saldivar,Salvador ,SanchezJose Napoles, Carlos ZarateMiguel Canto;and our champions:Henry Armstrong,and even the great Joe Louis boxed an exhibition against Arturo Godoy inside the legendary edifice.

I happened to be in Mexico(Mexicans often refer to Mexico City as just "Mexico") with my wife visiting her sister who lived in Colonia Zaragoza. I was watching the tube when I saw an announcement that Ruben Olivares was going to get a sendoff,his last fight,at the Arena Coliseo that Saturday..Well,count me in. I talked my brother in law into going. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.He ran his mother's school uniform factory,graduated from the big university there, UNAM,was a mucky muck in the front running political party,the PRI,and what capped everything off,he knew all that was worth knowing. All you had to do is ask him.He was always putting down the United States,but had never been any farther away from home than the Chilango retreat of Acapulco. When I twisted his arm to go to the fight,he told me that he'd never been to a fight let alone the Arena Coliseo and added that the Arena Coliseo was in a bad part of the city.But he finally talked himself into going.In a way I wish I'd gone without him.


The fight was a joke. Olivares's opponent was some kid with four fights under his belt. He'd come up short twice. Well,it was supposed to be a gala evening,A ceremony recognizing one of Mexico's great. The mayor,mariachis,former great Mexican battlers,and Miss Mexico City were there to celebrate,but Ruben didn't follow the script. I thought(and everyone else) that Olivares would make short work of a kid with four fights in his record book. But Rockin' Ruben must have been rocked too many times because as soon as this rookie landed a pitter patter tap on Ruben's shoulder,El Puas hung in the air and then crashed to the canvas. It was one of those delayed reaction things. Well,that was that and now I had to drive back to my brother in law's place and listen to him tell me that Mexico has got it all over the good ol' USA.


But Mr. Scaredy Cat had a good time. He didn't get rolled or stabbed. Even though Olivares came up a cropper,it was just worth being inside the Arena Coliseo. Inside it's like being in a surrealistic cylinder that doesn't have a wide breadth. There's four tiers of seating that rise straight up and hover over the ring.What cracked me up was as soon as we walked inside there's all these signs that read "No Gambling." Well,tell a Mexican he can't do anything,and especially make your point posting a sign,and you'll see a lesson in "case counterpoint." Everybody was calling out bets across the arena,I think to show that "who are you to tell me I can't bet?"I think I lost 20 pesos that night.

Before starting this piece,I looked up when the last fight took place at the Arena Coliseo.2013.I think they still have wrestling there,but no more boxing. Canelo will never set foot in the place unless perhaps the city fathers decide to tear the old war horse down.They'd ask him to make a speech. But all that is very unlikely. Mexico likes to stay with tradition. Even though there's only memories of the great Mexican fighters echoing within the walls that only the old timers can hear.Today, a family ,for a few pesos, can watch the Lucha Libre and have the time of their lives.



The Arena Coliseo,Mexico City



While I think of that Golden Era of Mexican boxing,I'll detach myself from today and open a bottle of reposado and listen to Pedro Infante

[dagosd2000]

23,154

23,154.That was number of paying fans in attendance at Yankee Stadium in New York City on October,1st,1961 when Roger Maris broke New York Yankee Babe Ruth's single season homerun record of 60 round trippers.During Maris's second plate appearance that afternoon against Boston Red Sox pitcher Tracy Stallard,Maris eclipsed the most coveted record in American sports by smacking a homerun into the right field bleachers for four bagger number 61. I saw the game on TV(I'm not sure if the game was televised in New York). Babe Ruth was the most iconic figure in American sports. He was head and shoulders above the rest of the athletes that resided in our nation's pantheon of sports. Baseball was the American pastime.Baseball was a metaophor of the country. Ruth not only held the record for the most single season homeruns,the highest feat of accomplishment in the sport,but also amassed 714 of these homerun hits during his glorious career.The homerun:the symbol of the ultimate power a hitter could achieve. A hit that went over the fence,out of the reach of any fielder.Of all the mighty batsmen,George Herman "Babe" Ruth was the mightiest of them all.No Punch and Judy hitter the Babe. You can have those little ol' singles. The Babe swung for the fences every at bat and hit that ol' piil into the stands 714 times.(It was no coincidence that Joe Friday's badge number was 714) Babe Ruth was a legend before he ever put his spikes inside his locker for the last time.Ruth's immortality will last until the apocalypse.Then 34 years later another New York Yankee,Roger Maris,surpassed that 60 homerun mark in the stadium that "Ruth built."23,154 paid to see if he could pass the Babe's record that day.Yankee Stadium,the most glorified baseball park in baseball, can seat well over 65.000.The day Maris set the record,Yankee Stadium was filled to a third of its capacity. I've often thought about the attendance that day more than what Maris accomplished

When San Diego finally landed a major league baseball franchise in 1969,I remember going to those early games.I'd watch Aaron and Mays and Clemente roam the outfield. Pitchers like Seaver and Gibson and Carlton turning batters inside out.I'd usually buy a bleacher seat for a buck and a half.It was almost like having the place to myself. Maybe a few thousand fans would be sprinkled in the seats of Jack Murphy Stadium. So what in the hell am I getting at? Since this is a boxing forum,I'll try to parallel my thoughts.

Watch those old fights in black and white on YouTube and everyone has on a coat and tie. There's no grandstanding entrances with all the pyrotechnics and heavy metal music.There's no Michael Buffer pocketing a cool 5 million to shout" Let's Get Ready To Rumble." The fighters wore the standard wardrobe. One had the the black trunks with the white piping,the other, the white trunks with the black piping.Black boxing shoes were in order. The two boys got their instructions from the referee in the middle of the ring with no mad dog glares at each other. They touched gloves and at the sound of the gong went to work.The winner would take his victory in stride,maybe a raised glove,a big smile.No climbimg up on the ring ropes thrusting his arm out to the delerious crowd.If there was any jumping around it was maybe the cornermen who couldn't control themselves.I remember there was only one announcer calling the action-a Jack Drees or a Don Dunphy.They never hogged the show like a Merchant or a Cosell.The old time radio and TV voices attention was on the fighters,not themselves. But my opening statement was about crowd size.


They say TV helped shut down the local arenas. Now when there's a fight,it's got to take in a TV revenue or it ain't worth it for the promoter. More money is generated ,especially today with Pay Per View,than any gate at the door. I think 35 bucks got one a ringside seat at Yankee Stadium to watch the second Louis Schmeling fight.To sit behind homeplate at Petco Park to watch the last place San Diego Padres,you better have a couple of grand handy.


I know most of America wanted Babe Ruth's record to stand on October 1st,1961.But I don't think that had much to do for the small crowd. People just didn't make that big a deal out of sports like they do today.Getting back to the last place Padres. I can go to the park and watch them play another lousy team and I'll bet you they get 25.000 through the turnstiles. A fight card comes out in the red if there's no television revenues.Today the stadiums are sponsored by big corporations:banks,cars,big booze,big pharma,and insurance companies.I remember the Friday Night Fights schlepped blue blade razors and "What will you have?"I think I'll have the good old days.


The Babe

[dagosd2000]

Project Amigos

After graduating from high school my father got involved across the border with a group of businessmen who volunteered their time helping out a poor community.The businessmen named this enterprise "Project Amigos."There was a school for the young kids,a center where the men could learn carpentry and masonry,a room where the women were provided sewing machines to make clothes for their families,a clinic for people who needed treatment for various maladies,and even a small church(Catholic of course).My father's title was "Athletic Director." I don't know if the wooden buildings were brought into the compound or if they were already there.It was about four or five structures arrayed on top of a hill just off the main road going to Playas De Tijuana.After turning off the asphalt road going to the beach, the road leading into the compound was dirt. The wood structures were also on dirt.There wasn't any pattern to how the buildings were laid out. The purpose of this project was for the American volunteers to assist the locals in the area. All supplies,medicines,and food were free to the needy. The American doctors gave their time twice a week without any compensation. I remember the atmosphere as being spirited and optimistic.


My father's duties as athletic director didn't comprise of too much. He organized a baseball team on the U.S. side of the border(I was on the team)and we would go down to Project Amigos and play the local talent. We had games with the Police and Fire Departments.The games were played down below the hill in the Zona Norte where there was a small ,old,wooden baseball stadium. It used to be home during the 1930's for Tijuana's local Japanese team that played in a league of Japanese agricultural teams.The other Japanese teams were located throughout the growing areas of California.The Japanese farmers had a big part of the West's agricultural production,but when the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor,those ballplayers were chasing fly balls in internment camps.The Japanese in TJ were rounded up and sent across the border.Mexico was on the side of the allies. Anyway, it was a lot of fun going against those TJ teams. Afterwards,we'd all gather around and have carne asada and beer.


My father also put in a crude boxing gym inside one of the wooden shacks. I remember the ring ropes sagged and the mat was dotted with mold. I think anybody who made a trip to the canvas had to get a tetanus shot afterwards.I can't recall any hot prospects training in that makeshift gym.All the gear was donated from the U.S. side. Old man Navarro,who owned The Coliseum ,was very generous. Battered gloves,wornout headgear,and ripped punching bags were gifts of Navarro. The big canvas heavy bag was held together with ample amounts of duct tape that I can remember The real reason there wasn't any future Olivareses at the gym at Project Amigos was because the standard was all volunteer work.The word "volunteer" is a eupenism for" anathema." No pay,no worky,no trainers. Capice?

Project Amigos was located beside the poor people's cemetery There was no grass in the cemetary,very few headstiones;just put together wooden crosses over the graves. A pack of wild dogs lived in the cemetary.One day an Indian woman,a "Maria",brought in to the clinic a baby wrapped in a serape. A dog had attacked the child. The baby's face was mangled pretty bad.I thought the kid was dead.But the Amercan doctors got to work on the baby immediately. After initial trauma procedures,they transported the mother and the baby to the U.S. side to a hospital. I learned later that baby made it.He was saved,but it was touch and go for a time.You can bet that the neighborhood threw us the biggest carne asada in the whole state of Baja after that.

It wasn't long after that episode with the baby being attacked by those dogs(by the way my father got a hold of a gun and shot the dog that attacked that baby)that my father told me with a sad face that Project Amigos was no more.
"What happened?"I asked him feeling let down.
"The doctors at the clinic were dispensing birth control pills to the women.When they found out the feds came in a shut the place down."

Well,I guess that shouldn't have surprised me.But you never know what to expect in Mexico.For someone like myself,that's the allure.



Wnever someone dies on the road in Mexico,the family will put a cross on the site

[dagosd2000]

Taking A Little Off The Top

Just off the top of my head: I went down to Tijuana tiday to get a picture frame put on one of my paintings. Next month I'm going down to my wife's hometown,Jiquilpan,Michoacan. I was bring a painting as a gift to the director of the Cultural Center down thereConrado Leyva. Great guy .Thinks I'm another Diego Rivera. In fact that's who I painted,Diego Rivrea, and had the picture frame put on Anyway I always talk to the kid who runs the parking lot next to the place I get the frames done. He's a boxing nut and we like to talk about any up and coming Mexican prospects. Today,i asked him if there was any Tijuanero worth keeping an eye on. He said a local fighter by the name of Jaime Munguia is fighting tonight in Las VegasHe has escaped me so I looked up the fight on the Boxrec. This Munguia is a Tijuana product and plied his trade early on in Mexico,especially TJ. I wish I would have known before.I Would have liked to see him in action. He's fighting a pretty tough boy from the UK,Liam Smith. The only loss on his record was against Canelo. I hope this Muguia kid can tag another loss on the Brit.

Sometimes a good fighter,even the great ones,don't have certain skills or avoid basic training techniques you'd think would be second nature. When Julio Cesar Chavez trekked up to Tijuana to fight Danilo Cabrera at The Caliente Racetrack,I wanted to catch one of his workouts at the CREA Gym.I remember there was a big line of fans wanting to get inside the gym that afternoon. They even charged admission,and had no problems making a little money on the side. Chavez was on a fast ride to the top at that time. He was very hungry and his work exemplified his desire.. I remember he shadowboxed,skipped rope,worked his stomach muscles to the max,and went fast and hard with his sparring partners. He also hit the heavy bag with very mean intentions,but he left the speed bag alone. Didn't think much about it at the time. But years later I saw a documentary on TV about Chavez. One segment showed him in the gym trying to keep the speed bag going. He couldn't keep it in rhythm for more than a few seconds. He kind of laughed it off. He was Mexico's greatest fighter,sans hitting the speed bag.

Before boxing in the Southland began to peak in the late 1960's,San Diego fans didn't have too much to shout about.But there was one fight,a heavyweight,Ski Goldstein, who was a good draw at the old Coliseum. His real last name wasn't Goldstein. He was some sort of Pole.He put that Goldstein moniker on himself thinking for some reason a Jewish fighter would catch on in San Diego. I don't think anyone cared.San Diego isn't New York where over a million and a half Jews call The Apple their home.Hell,you can't even find a decent Jewish deli in San Diego.But Ski was a fun loving happy go lucky kind of guy. You'd see him a lot on the Boardwalk in Mission Beach.He was no strnger to the local watering holes along the beach,the Pennant and the Beachcomber.He always sported a rich tan from basking in the sun swigging beers and scheming on the bikini babes. Every summer he participated in the Over The Line softball tournament. He wasn't exactly Mickey Mantle.I think he joined for the fun of it all,the beer and the girls. Can't blame him. I played in those games too.Goldstein went over to England to fight Jack Bodell. That was his biggest test. He lost,but hell,we knew Ski was always good to set the bar up for a round of beers at one of those watering holes down at the beach

George Foreman has been asked about his fight against Ali so many times that by now he has rehearsed probably a dozen different responses. One time when he was asked bout the fight and what he would have done differently,he responded," I would have gotten up."
I thought when I saw him go down that he would get back up.He looked tired for sure,but he wasn't that badly hurt. I think his ego got hurt more than his body. He just let go of the rope.
But when big George fought Ron Lyle,in one of the best toe to toe slugfests of all time,Big George got up.His mettle that night against hard punching Ron Lyle was something Foreman left in the locker room when he fought The Greatest.Liston and Foreman thought they'd smash Ali to the canvas like they did with their lesser opposition in one or two rounds. If they were going into those fights with Ali thinking they were going to do away with him in a minute or two-well that was their undoing.You ain't gonna' knockout Ali like that. Even Holmes,in a fight that should have never been made when Ali was shot,couldn't pull that off..



The late Ron Lyle RIP

[dagosd2000]

The Agreement

Sometimes when two fighters face off against each other there's an unspoken understanding that one is going to defer to the other. Usually this arrangement is made between two fighters who know each other. The fighter who knows he doesn't have a chance will viscerally communicate his intentions in the first clinch,the force of his first blow,or not following up when he sees an opening. The aggression is absent.The fighter who is in control will decline to pressure the yielder in order to deliver the knockout. The bout goes the distance. It's a boring fight. The audience senses their watching more or less a sparring session.The winner is carrying the loser. Often the at the bell ending a round the yielder may pat his opponent on the back before retuning to his corner.


The fight is not a fix in the technical sense. The outcome is just communicated non verbally very early in the fight. The yielder is just satisfied to go the distance. If he veers from the script and starts to act bold,then he may get a beat down No,if he lasts the distance it looks better on his record. He can say that he went the distance with so and so.The future may behold a big fight with a healthy payday. If he gets creamed he might be fighting his next fight in Idaho.[


One fight years ago that had that aura was the heavyweight match at the Olympic between Jerry Quarry and Joey Orbillo. The two Angeleans fought in 1966. Both fighters were the only recognized big boys in town.Both hadn't been fighting long. Both fighters had come up short against the veteran Eddie Machen. One fighter was Irish,the other Mexican. Aileen Eaton was looking forward to a big gate at the Olympic Auditorium

Jerry and Joey had not only sparred with each other,they were friends.The gym rats and the people in the know didn't give Orbillo much of a chance of beating Quarry,but they hyped the fight to make it sound like it was going to be another Zale and Graziano. Quarry won almost every round. Jerry floored Orbillo in the 4th round but let him off the hook. It was part of the non vocal agreement.Besides Jerry didn't want to hurt his pal.

After the fight Quarry went on to fight bigger game with mixed results There was Ali and Frazier and Shavers and Norton on the horizon. He fought in Madison square Garden four times.He got a couple of shots at the title. For Orbillo he stayed mostly in the LA area. He finished up his career fighting the likes of Robie Harris,Big Train Lincoln,and Roy Wallace. I saw him at the old Coliseum in San Diego beating a journeyman heavyweight by the name of Al Banks

Joey Orbillo is still with us.Jerry Quarry slid into the abyss of fighter's dementia.He died in 1998. A shaken Joey Orbillo spoke at the funeral I read a piece quoting Orbillo who said that indirectly Quarry had saved his life. Orbillo said that he was scheduled to go to Vietnam after his fight with Quarry,but when Jerry put him down in the 4th round the blow shattered his eardrums. Orbillo was assigned to be a point man on his first patrol. ,but the injury he sustained landed him in the base hospital instead.The GI who took his place on that patrol stepped on a landmine and was killed I guess sometimes winding up on the short end can be blessing.



Jerry Quarry

[dagosd2000]

In Memoriam

After Mando Ramos passed away suddenly in 2008, the Southland boxing community held a tribute to his life at the Longshoreman's Memorial Hall in the small suburb of Wilmington which is located next to his hometown,Long Beach.It was one of the first times for me to see that the LA area still had a vibrant and connected boxing community. I had made some contacts on the Classic West Coast Boxing thread(originally the thread was titled Ernie Indian Red Lopez ,then changed later because the contributors were adding thoughts on many topics related to West Coast Boxing).The Longshoreman's Hall looked and felt the part of a place for stevedores to get together for a card game and drink a few beers. Nothing fancy,just a wide room with a low ceiling,a kitchen on the side,tables and folding chairs,a small stage

I remember the event was in July and it was very hot and the air was close and heavy. When I walked inside I sat with Frank Baltazar,his son Frankie Jr.(a popular fighter along with his big bro Tony at the Olympic Auditorium),Ed Hernandez,and Randy De La O.The atmosphere was relaxed without any pretentions that would pressure you to say and do the "right thing.". Ramos's wife Sylvia was there along with Mando Jr. Former LA fighters were scattered around the hall always very approachable. Guys like Carlos Palomino,Mando Muniz,Gato Gonzalez,Paul Gonzalez,Ruben Castillo,Frankie Duarte,Orlando De La Fuente,,and of course the irrepressible Bobby Chacon.

They showed film of Mando in action.He was one of the smoothest boxers that came down the pike. He had SO much natural ability. But we know the story:the fast life accentuated with the booze,the broadsd,and the drugs that brought him down.The night before he lost the title to Chango Carmona, Jackie McCoy his manager and trainer had to bail him out of jail.


But after all that errant living finally caught up with him and eventually caused him to deal with health issues, he founded a youth organization B.A.A.D(Boxing Against Alcohol and Drugs)He donated time and money to guide youngsters away from the pitfalls that had had fallen into.Mando was known around town as Mr. B.A.A.D.


I presented his son with a painting of his dad. He was very humble.
"This painting will be placed in the Ramos living room in my dad's honor.We will cherish it dearly.."
The hundreds in attendance weren't there to pick out Mando's flaws. I remember Aileen Eaton called him "My Baby."Jackie McCoy said he was the most gifted boxer he had ever worked with. When they were showing the highlights of some of his fights,Frankie Baltazar Jr. remarked about how Ramos had a slick little technique off slapping his right hand to the side of his opponent's body when he broke a clinch.Frankie was astute enough to point it out to us at the table.

I was definitely hooked after that day. The friendliness with people who weren't all wrapped up into themselves. Fighters,for the most part,are the most congenial guys to hang out with. They aren't all self absorbed thinking that what they say is engraved in stone.They're not full of sarcasm and smugness and don't kick the little guy who can't fight back or is too intimidated to say anything. I'm looking forward to going to Rick Farris's West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame Ceremony in September with my wife,Maria. My wife Maria.A gal from the ranch in Mexico.dropped out of school to help support her mother and eight brothers and sisters by picking garbanzo beans and earning a buck and a half a day.She'll fit right in with those champions of the world.


Randy De La O and his lovely wife,Jeri





Frank Baltazar and his lovely wife,Connie



Rick Farris,Mando Muniz,Bobby Chacon

[dagosd2000]

Two Tough Jews

if you were alive back then when JFK got killed,I'm sure you can remember where you were at and what you were doing when the news of the assassination was broadcast,November 22,!963. I was in high school between classes in the hallway opening up my locker to get some books when David Showley sidled next to me to open his locker.
"I was just in the front office, The secretaries said they heard on the radio that Kennedy was shot."
The word got around real fast.The pandemonium heightened with innuendos and rumors.During my next period class the principal announced on the PA system that President Kennedy had been shot and killed in Dallas.School was let out immediately That was on a Friday. Shortly after the shooting a suspect,Lee Harvey Oswald,was arrested in a Dallas movie theater for the murder of a Dallas policeman.Later an additional charge regarding the murder of President Kennedy was added. Like I said ,if you were breathing on November 22,1963 you can tell everyone what you were doing and where you were at, unless you were a little baby.

On Sunday Oswald was to be transferred across the street from the city jail to the county lockup. All this movement was televised on live TV. In the city jail garage, as Oswald was being led to be moved across the street,a heavyset guy in a suit and wearing a fedora stepped out in front of Oswald and shot him with a pistol. Osawld died in the ambulance on way to the hospital. The name of the gunman was first announced as Jack Rubinstein,an owner of a Dallas nightclub.

I was at home watching all this drama unfold on our television set .My father didn't seem too interested in what had transpired during the last several days.When Oswald was shot and they pounced on Rubenstein(later identified as Jack Ruby),I remember my father pausing and taking a hard look at the tube. When Rubenstein was identified ,my father sort of chuckled.
"I know that guy.That's Jack Rubenstein. He used to hang out on Maxwell Street. He was kind of a nut. Thought he was a big time gangster.Always trying to prove he was a tough guy.Said he wanted to show everyone that Jews were tough. He palled around with Barney Ross so he could show everyone he was a tough guy."
Then my father walked away like he'd just heard the weather report. My father was no fan of the Kennedy's.Bobby,JFK's little brother and the attorney general,was going after the Outfit boys pretty hard. He was trying to light a fire under Hoover the director of the FBI,but the mob controlled him and his soulmate Tolson.Something was going to eventually give,and resulted in the assassination.

But getting back to Ruby,now in jail and awaiting trial. Barney Ross would later testify as a character witness for Ruby. A lot good that was going to do him. Barney Ross was a Marine in WW2 and earned the Silver Star. He suffered some wounds and while he was in the hospital became hooked on the morphine they were giving him.Later,he became a heroin addict. He eventually got the monkey off his back. Hollywood even made a movie about his struggle called,guess what?-Monkey On My Back.


I had always read about the famous trilogy between him and McLarnin. McLarnin would be a poison for Jewish fighters. He broke Hebrew hearts when he dramatically ended the legend Benny Leonard's comeback. Ruby Goldstein,The Pride Of The Ghetto, was Ko'd by Jimmy.Sid Terris,Joe Glick,and and Ray Miller were on the losing ends.it wasn't until Ross took him to task two out of three that Jewish hearts were put at ease.


When I watch the old film of Ross and McLarnin ,Ross is head and shoulders above McLarnin when it comes to skills. Jimmy's plodding,arms by his side,swinging wide. Ross has head movement,counters,and lands the cleaner shots. It wasn't until father time and Henry Armstrong caught up with Ross that he knew it was time to pass the torch.

Ross went back to the old neighborhood in Chicago. There, Jack Rubenstein sought him out. They became true pals.When the war broke out,Ross wanted to be a Marine and be in the thick of the action. Ruby wanted to rub shoulders with the wise guys

I guess you could say Jack Ruby was a tough guy.We don't have to guess that about Barney Ross.It just is that one of them got the Silver Star serving his country. The other gave his country a black eye.


Jimmy McLarnin

[dagosd2000]

The Life

My father liked to go to the Stardust Hotel in Mission Valley to sit in the steam bath. After a good sweat he'd get a rub down. Then he'd put on his silk shirt and cashmere sweater,pull up his worsted wool trousers with the perfect crease,and then slip into his alligator shoes. He'd swagger out to the parking lot and get inside his big Lincoln coupe He acted like he was a made man-a don.He wasn't though. His father,Diamond joe,was a boss.At one time he was the boss of bosses in Chicago. He sent out one of his boys,Frankie Yale(real name Frankie Uale),to seek out a young tough guy by the name of Al Capone and have him work in the 19th Ward Another transplanted mobster was Paul Ricca. He helped my grandfather by smuggling rum out of Cuba to sell in Dimey's speakeasies.Later,my grandfather made him the maître d' at the The Bella Napoli,the swankiest joint on the West Side.Ricca's nickname became "the Waiter" after paying his dues with Diamond Joe.A young punk who ran with the 42 gang by the name of Sam Giancana was put to work by my grandfather. Giancana had an uncontrollable temper.Behind his back he was referred to as "Mooney." Tony "Big Tuna" Accardo was also a young errand boy for Diamond Joe in Little Italy,a place that got to be called "The Patch."Ricca,Giancana,and Accardo all got "made" in time and rose to be dons in Chicago.

Old man Joe Kennedy set up my grandfather with Canadian whiskey smuggled across the border during Prohibition.my grandfather gave the Genna brothers their start. Diamond Joe had a pipeline to state senator Charles Dineen(my uncle Chuck,Diamond Joe's youngest child ,was named after the politician).But it didn't stop with a senator. My grandfather had President Coolidge's number. Silent Cal new that Dimey could deliver enough votes in Chicago in his favor. I don't know how many dead men voted in Chicago when Coolidge got elected, but a dead man ain't gonna' say nothin'.. Also there were plenty of shuttle sevirces driving voters to various polling booths on election day."Be sure to vote and vote often.".My grandfather oversaw the Unione Siciliana,a benevolent society that helped the Italian people in the 19th.Dimey also made sure that favors would be returned. Everyone who got a helping hand was on call for freebie.


Diamond Joe had a big mansion built in Bass Lake, Indiana.He bought a racing speed boat for my father, The Bass Lake house was also offered as a getaway for other big shots.legit and not so on the level.Besides politicians,Diamond Joe ran with celebrities like Jack Dempsey,Babe Ruth,and Charlie Chaplin. He wined them and dined them in the Bella Napoli when they came into town. Jane Addams's Hull House,the famous orphanage, was across the street.The cooks at the Bella Napoli were constantly bringing over food for the waifs.On Christamas and Thanksgiving,Diamond Joe would stand outside his house on Polk and Oakley Boulevards and set up food lines and hand out presents to the paisans.

And then one day they killed him.They never caught the guys. After the war,the only remaining shooter alive was found dead in an alley. My father made sure he brought back his 45 from Okinawa.

But my father,Diamond Joe's oldest boy,never reached the heights of his father.He wasn't close. He knew Ricca and Giancana and Accardo. Because he was Diamond Joe's boy they always had something for him to do.My father went to live with Al Capone after Diamond Joe was gunned down,but he didn't stay long. Mrs Capone thought my father was a bad influence on her boy Al Jr, who they called Sonny. My father got in trouble in Chicago when I was just a little kid.It was in all the papers,but my parents didn't let me see it. I never knew until years later.I went back about five years ago to scrounge up those papers.I've got them. I'll never show my sisters those papers.

So my father languished out here in sunny California. He wished he was back in Chicago,but he knew there was nothing for him. He'd be on the phone most everyday talking to some old gangster until one day they were all dead. One day in the 70's I met my father at the Riviera Hotel in the lobby.Out of the corner of my eye I saw this guy who looked like a hood storm up to my father.This guy was mad.
"You know who I am?"he yelled pointing a finger at my father
"Yeah",said my father with a smirk. "You're Tony The Ant."
"I'm letting you know that when I'm in town you work for me,"he demanded.
"I only work for Sam Giancana,"said my father calmly.
The Ant then turned on his heal and walked out.He was in town to kill Tamara Rand,a lawyer.. She had given some money to the mob for an interest in a Vegas hotel. They acted like they never heard of her before. She had gone to my father so he could make a phone call to Chicago to see if something could be worked out. My father made the call. He told her the Outfit didn't make a practice of killing women,but if she kept it up they'd put a contract out on her. Well,she went to court with it. Tony "The Ant" Spilotro was in San Diego to take care of things. My father knew that,but he didn't warn her. She was told, and she thought she could win in court. Later,Spilotro wound up dead.Him and his brother were buried alive in a cornfield.

My father died a natural death. Maybe getting into trouble in Chicago saved him from being buried alive in a cornfield.



Diamond Joe feeding Jane Addams's orphans at the Bella Napoli

[dagosd2000]

Hit 'Em Where It Hurts

As the decade of the 1960's opened,the complexion of the country was changing.The post World War II mind set was becoming more liberal,the younger generation was asserting itself;It was becoming a focus more and more on kids who were just beginning to shave. John Kennedy was the youngest elected president. He was the first president to bo born in the 20th century.The voices of Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby had been given the B side of the records deferring to the rock 'n rollers like Elvis and Little Richard. John Wayne was getting long in the tooth. Bogart was the first great male leading man in the talkies to die.Marlon Brando was the rage.Method acting had taken over.Joe McCarthy was dead along with his mantra.Bad guys were good guys.The rebel had a cause.The establishment was cracking. People began to question authority.


I believe it was the year 1962.Archie Moore had been stripped of all his titles by the various boxing commissions. He could have been 50 years old or older. He was fighting a bunch of non title fights,but he was still winning. At that time I don't think there was a fight that had attracted new fans to the sport of boxing as Moore's heroic comeback against Yvon Durelle.That was still in the time when championship fights were broadcast on television. Moore's conquest of Durelle made a lasting impression.The fight seemed to elevate the Old Mongoose to a pantheon where people wanted him to elicit his thoughts about everthing.Moore never shied away from offering his opinion. I wouldn't say he was long winded.He was too interesting for that,but he was one of those guys if you asked him what the time was,he'd tell you how they built the watch.
I watched Moore on a local sports show being interviewed by a local scribe.It was before the Clay fight. There was a lot of interest with anyone that Clay was going into combat with. Of course Moore was a legend. He went back to a different era.He was old school,but when he talked he was a Renissance man. He was more deliberate in his speech.His thoughts came in full measures. He made you think.Clay on the other hand was loud and brackish when he spouted off. He was full of himself.Clay was the angry black man before there was a Stokley Carmichael or a Malcolm X.Moore was a Sidney Poitier.


The interview was Archie in top form. He wanted people to know that he was versed on a variety of topics. That he could hold his own with any Rhodes scholar.But no one would have listened to Archie Moore if he hadn't had been a great fighter. Same with Clay(later Ali)."Upset the world" and we'll let you talk about anything you want.If you can upset the world maybe you know something else even if the man on the street thinks the same.

I remember the scribe asking Moore what his best punch was. The scribe had to try to keep the interview in line with boxing.Well,now it was time for Moore to explain how they built the watch.
"it depends,"answered the old Mongoose carefully."I was fighting a young fellow once and was having my way with him. I hit him with everything I had in my arsenal. Though I was in command,my blows didn't put him asea. He kept moving forward and I was hitting him with a menu of all my weapons."
Moore then cleared his throat. The gist of his message was about to be conveyed.
"Then we fell into a clinch.I decided to disengage and when i pulled away I threw my right hand.He tried to slip the punch but the punch landed with open glove right on top of his head,The man fell like he was poleaxed."
The scribe's jaw was agape.
"So it doesn't necessarily mean that your best punch will deliver the fatal blow. Whatever hurts your opponent should then be implemented. It's best to try a variety of attacks until you find the one that's most satisfactory."
Now my mouth is wide open .

i'm sure Ali knew what Moore knew about punching. He was a genius also,but in a P.T. Barnum kind of way. Maybe I shouldn't say P.T. Barnum.He was from Archie's era.



the old sage,Archie Moore

[dagosd2000]

The Only Ref In Town

Every time I think of Frank Rustich,I think that he was the only referee in San Diego. Now I know that's not true,but it seems that every time I went to the fights,he was the ref-at least in the main event. I can give you a quick list off the top of my head of who were the mainstay referees during the same period in Los Angeles.:Lou Fillippo,Chuck Hassett,Richard Steele,George Latka,Dick Young,Frankie Van,John Thomas,Larry Rozadilla,Rudy Jordan.Those names came to me like nothing,but for the life of me the only referee I can recall in San Diego was Frank Rustich.

My father knew him. That's how I got to know him. Frank was Italian and so was my father and there was the connection. Frank had that olive skin on a square frame.He had an impassive expression that featured dark eyes,a sturdy chin,and a fighter's nose. He didn't talk much.When he did his voice was buried deep in his throat.I don't think I ever saw him crack a smile or crack a joke.It wasn't that he was upset all the time.He was just a man of few words.Frank Rustich also umpired youth sports in San Diego.One time when I was playing football in high school ,Frank was the head umpire.We were playing a team,the winner latching on to first place in the league.The game was scoreless in the last quarter.We finally began to move the ball downfield. We got inside their 20 yard line. Our quarterback calls a play where he fakes the handoff to the running back into the line,and then keeps the ball on a bootleg running around the end. Our quarterback ran into the end zone untouched for a touchdown. The fake is what sold it.But Frank got faked out in the process. He evidently blew an early whistle(I never heard it)and called the play dead. The ball came back.The touchdown didn't count.The other team got the ball back and kicked a field goal and we lost the game. Frank admitted he missed the call.But that's life.

Frank reffed his first fight in 1949. Manual Ortiz was on the card. Frank saw just about all the local boys in action in San Diego:Hafey,Norton,Archie Moore,Bob Murphy,Roy DiFilippis,Ronnie Wilson,David Love,Terry Norris,James "the Heat" Kinchen.Finally, when boxing died its slow death here in the early 1990's Frank was just about at his end also. he died in 1994.


Frank's most notable fight was being the third man in the first Norton/Ali trilogy. I don't think anyone gave Norton a chance in that one. I watched both boys train their final two weeks at the Town and Country Hotel in Mission Valley.Ali would show up first. No one wanted to wait around for Norton to finish.The crowd was there to see The Greatest.Ali would swagger in with Angelo and Ferdie and Bundini.Ali did more talking than training. He let his sparring partners(Tony Doyle,Alonzo Johnson,and Billy Daniels)sock him around as Ali rested on the ropes.Then Ali would grab the microphone. He'd call Norton "Ken Fartin'" because that was what Ali was going to make him do in the ring. He flirted with the women and made their boyfriends wish they were him.

After Ali wound up his vaudeville skit,Norton would show up with Eddie Futch and his sparring partner Bossman Jones.Norton you could tell was on a mission. I don't think he liked Ali getting all the attention in Kenny's backyard.Even with the contrasts in their approaches to the fight,it was still a lead pipe cinch that Ali would win-and win big.But that night at the Sports Arena was one of the most disappointing efforts ever displayed by Ali. He sure wasn't The Greatest that night. He came swaggering in with a robe Elvis Presley gave him that had the words" The People's Champ" scrolled on the back.After the fight Ali left the ring wearing the robe inside out. His cult said if he hadn't had broken his jaw,he would have won. But it was Norton that broke his jaw. Two more fights would follow. Ali didn't look much different:legs like they were mired in wet cement,little head movement,looking exhausted,no telling blows landed. They asked Norton later what was his strategy.He said that Eddie Futch told him when Ali started the jab that he should counter with his own. I guess that's how he did it.

Years later I asked Frank Rustich if he was thinking of stopping the fight in the last 40 seconds of the last round when Ali was sagging against the ropes just covering up.
"There was too much money riding on that fight,"answered Rustich.
I guess that's what was going through Rustich's mind,whatever that meant.


Muhammad Ali

[dagosd2000]

The Crapshoot

El Puas ,in the Mexican vernacular, is a razor blade made especially for cockfighting. The blades are tied to the talons of the rooster before he's released by his owner to fight his adversary,another gamecock held by his owner. At the command both birds are set out at each other. Their natural instincts are to fight with primitive,carnal aggression,a battle for male bragging rights.It's a blood sport that is common throughout the republic Every pueblo has a "Palenque."Ruben Olivares's nickname was "El Puas."He mounted a reckless attack featuring a left hook to the liver that doubled over 79 of his opponents before they could pray to go the distance. When he crushed bantamweight champ Lionel Rose to the canvas to wrench away his crown,Olivares was Mexico's most popular fighter. He was also considered the best fighter in the annals of Mexico's boxing history.

When this championship fight finally came to fruition,Olivares had an unbeaten streak of 52 wins.The only blot,a draw against a another Mexican fighter,German Bastides.Later,Olivares would get even with Bastides via KO. Olivares seemed unbeatable.After doubling over Alan Rudkin,,Olivares was matched with Chucho Castillo,a fighter who had lost a close decision to Rose at The Forum.The decision started a riot.But Olivares's fight with Castillo was a breeze of a unanimous decision.After three soft non title goes,Olivares signed again with Castillo. Olivares wasn't himself. He suffered a cut,Castillo went after the blood like a fighting gamecock. Ruben was bloodied and down in the 14th round and had lost his crown.

There was a third fight. This time Olivares got the crown back. The decision was never in doubt.Olivares again went back fighting some non title bouts that were more like workouts. I saw one of these fights at the bullring in TJ.Olivares fought against a Japanese fighter with eight loses in 23 bouts. (At that time there was a blossoming Mexican/Japanese rivalry).Olivares traveled to Nippon to fight a well conditioned Japanese,Kanazawa.Going into the 14th round it was very close,but Ruben's left hook got him out of a jamb.It was a fight for the ages,Olivares by KO.

After stopping Jesus Pimentel at the Forum,Rafael Herrera put the ink on the contract to fight Olivares.I had a funny feeling about this one. Herrera was more of a "compact" fighter. He threw straight punches. Olivares was the hooker.Well,when Ruben wound up with the hook,Herrera was beating him to the punch.Olivares had a second loss on his record and no title.

The point of my rant is pretty cut and dry:when two Mexican fighters go at it with each other,you can throw out past records,the odds,and what the consensus thinks. It's a test of mano o mano,a battle for male bragging rights.The favorite is especially concerned. Olivares knew he was in for a long night against German Bastides. When Chucho Castillo decided to step on the gas in their first title fight,Ruben could see he was gong to get run over.Eloy Sanchez,a journryman with 12 losses, rocked Jose Becerra' s world ending his fighting career."Pajarito" Moreno was taken out by Jose Luis Cotero,a fighter who wasn't supposed to have a chance.

You never know what will happen in a fight.When two Mexicans are waiting for the opening bell,you can figure on a crapshoot


"El Puas" today

[Sidney Carton]

But then my mind touched upon something about San Luis Colorado. I remember Gaspar Ortega once talking to me about how early in his career he fought many times in San Luis Colorado. He said that he was born in Mexcali,the capitol of Baja,California that was on the border about 50 miles west of San Luis Colorado. But in order to earn a fight in Mexicali,and then graduate to the farthest border town west,Tijuana,Gaspar had to win in San Luis Colorado. And it wasn't just one fight,but many fights. Ortega told me if he hadn't come out on top in San Luis Colorado he probably would have had to find work in the fields. Maybe he could have gotten into the US Brasero Program and stooped over in the hot sun picking lettuce.Just thinking of that must have kept Gaspar going to the gym everyday.

But we know that Gaspar Ortega didn't fail in San Luis Colorado. He went up the ladder fighting just about everyone worth mentioning in the lightweight and welterweight divisions. We saw him fight on television.He was a staple of the Friday Night Fights..He foughtin Madison Square Garden. He had a shot against Emile Griffith for the title. Today, Gaspar lives in New York City where he was a well known popular figure in boxing circles. His son ,Mike,is a referee in New York.


Gaspar told me he has no great desire to return to Mexico, even if it's for a visit. I told him the gym in Tijuana that the city named in his honor had become a sanctuary for drug addicts.He remembered when they invited him back to Tijuana to open the facilty.Today, the windows are broken,the walls defaced with grafitti,and there's a heavy padlock on the door. Gaspar just shrugged when I told him. He gave it a little laugh like it was going to happen that way sooner or later.It didn't seem to bother him.


As I finished my Jamaica sitting on that park bench in San Luis Colorado,I was thinking what it would have been like to see Gaspar Ortega begin his fighting career in that far away little Mexican town cornered in the Sonoran desert I bet he fought like a wildcat.


Gaspar Ortega and my wife,Maria. We all had a bite to eat at the Carl's Junior down the street from the Marriot Hotel that was hosting the World Boxing Hall of Fame convention.

I thought Gasper won his second fight with Florentino Fernandez. He was robbed.

[dagosd2000]

But then my mind touched upon something about San Luis Colorado. I remember Gaspar Ortega once talking to me about how early in his career he fought many times in San Luis Colorado. He said that he was born in Mexcali,the capitol of Baja,California that was on the border about 50 miles west of San Luis Colorado. But in order to earn a fight in Mexicali,and then graduate to the farthest border town west,Tijuana,Gaspar had to win in San Luis Colorado. And it wasn't just one fight,but many fights. Ortega told me if he hadn't come out on top in San Luis Colorado he probably would have had to find work in the fields. Maybe he could have gotten into the US Brasero Program and stooped over in the hot sun picking lettuce.Just thinking of that must have kept Gaspar going to the gym everyday.

But we know that Gaspar Ortega didn't fail in San Luis Colorado. He went up the ladder fighting just about everyone worth mentioning in the lightweight and welterweight divisions. We saw him fight on television.He was a staple of the Friday Night Fights..He foughtin Madison Square Garden. He had a shot against Emile Griffith for the title. Today, Gaspar lives in New York City where he was a well known popular figure in boxing circles. His son ,Mike,is a referee in New York.


Gaspar told me he has no great desire to return to Mexico, even if it's for a visit. I told him the gym in Tijuana that the city named in his honor had become a sanctuary for drug addicts.He remembered when they invited him back to Tijuana to open the facilty.Today, the windows are broken,the walls defaced with grafitti,and there's a heavy padlock on the door. Gaspar just shrugged when I told him. He gave it a little laugh like it was going to happen that way sooner or later.It didn't seem to bother him.


As I finished my Jamaica sitting on that park bench in San Luis Colorado,I was thinking what it would have been like to see Gaspar Ortega begin his fighting career in that far away little Mexican town cornered in the Sonoran desert I bet he fought like a wildcat.


Gaspar Ortega and my wife,Maria. We all had a bite to eat at the Carl's Junior down the street from the Marriot Hotel that was hosting the World Boxing Hall of Fame convention.

I thought Gasper won his second fight with Florentino Fernandez. He was robbed.

Didn't see that one,but Fernandez was uundefeated at that time.He had KO power. The fight was in the Garden.Ortega was up against it.

[dagosd2000]

Leave 'Em Laughing

I can't remember the fighter. I can't remember who he fought that night at the Coliseum.I remember it was a prelim. The fighter I can't put a name with was a tall good looking Mexican kid.I remember my father taking an interest with him.The kid was from Tijuana.He had had a couple of fights. winning the pair .One of his wins was by KO,the other a decision in 4 rounds.Both those fights took place in Tijuana. My father brought me to the bullring to see this kid fight, his opener on the undercard.


The kid had a name like Ramiro.I want to say Romeo,but that wasn't his name. I want to say Romeo because the kid was really into himself.He looked and acted like a rock star. He had this magnetism,a dark complexion,wavy black hair,a charming smile,and radiant eyes.He had a trim, svelte body with a tuft of hair on his chest.His reach was long and he moved with grace He made a good first impression.My father was interested in managing him,but held back on that wish because he felt Ramiro(I'll stay with that name)let himself be distracted,primarily by the females. They were drawn to him like he was a Frankie Avalon,and he embraced those advances without hesitating. My father was going to TJ to watch him train at the CREA,but Ramiro was AWOL more than not spending his workout time exercising with the females instead of breaking a sweat in the gym.


Ramiro's debut was at the bullring in Tijuana. My father brought me with him to the Plaza De Toros to see Ramiro in his first pro fight.The headliner on the card was Chango Carmona,but Ramiro's face was on the front of the program. I thought that was unusual. The aficianados must have thought they had the genuine article with Ramiro to have his picture on the program. There was a shot of him from the waist up in a fighting pose. He's flashing a gorgeous smile.He 's wearing a gold chain around his neck. I'm sure the girls clipped out that picture and taped it to their bedroom mirrors. I do have to say that Ramiro was a hell of a lot more good looking than Chango Carmona. Ramiro won his first fight.He stopped a short, blubbery little dude who I didn't see throw a punch. The crowd went wild.The girls got out their scissors.

So I'm at the Coliseum with my father.The verdict is still out with whether my father wants to take the plunge.Again Ramiro is fighting a 4 round preliminary bout. A lot of his following crossed the border to watch Ramiro that night. I'd say half of the fans had higher voices than the other half. Ramiro sauntered from the locker room wearing a shiny shorty white satin robe with "Ramiro" beautifully scrolled on the back.He was showing his pearly whites and had a gleam in his eye. He went through the ropes with an ease and elan never breaking his smile..The men cheered and the girls swooned. I was beginning to think that I wished I was him.

Ramiro's opponent that night was some warhorse that they brought out from back East.He looked Puerto Rican.His record in the program showed that he had 20 fights winning a little more than half. This guy's name also escapes me.Before the announcr,Fred Lewis,could finish saying Ramiro's name, the roar from the crowd smothered Lewis's intro. Ramiro's Puerto Rican opponent looked like he had grown up in the streets of Spanish Harlem and was no stranger to fighting by any means necessary. As much as Ramiro was a pretty boy,this guy looked like he was chiseled out of sheet metal. As they were getting their instructions in center ring from Frank Rustich ,the referee,Ramiro towered like an Adonis over the chunk of sheet metal. They touched gloves ,pranced back to their corners waiting for the bell. At the gong,Ramiro circled out carrying his left hand low. the Puerto Rican tough guy stood in the center of the ring wanting Ramiro to come to him. But Ramiro was content circling,flicking out his jab that never came close to Mr, Sheet Metal's chin. Then for some reason Ramiro backed up into the ropes. The Puerto Rican cut him off and smothered him on the ropes..He started banging away at Ramiro's body.Ramiro dropped his left and when he did that the Puerto Rican threw a right hand.It caught Ramiro right on the tip of his chin.He fell like the rug was pulled out from under him.I don't think he was hurt that badly,but when he tried to regain his feet,his feet were in agreement ,but his upper body was still unconscious. Now I'd seen plenty of guys get tagged and then do the rubber leg act(ala Berbick against Tyson),but this was the opposite. Ramiro had his legs under him,but his torso wanted to take a nap. it was the funniest thing you'd ever want to see. Ramiro was spinning his legs like a funny car on a drag strip,except Ramiro was making everyone laugh trying to get his chin off the canvas.Rustich had no choice but to count Ramiro out.The fight was over,but the mirth didn't subside until the next bout.


For an idol like Ramiro to lose in that fashion had to be humiliating.He went from being a knight in shining armor to being a court jester. I think that was his last fight unless he tried to make a comeback in Timbuktu where no one had ever heard of him.My father was glad he didn't invest in Ramiro's fighting career. His following? I'm sure the men would laugh about that fight for years to come in the cantinas,but I'm sure there were some within the softer sex, that in their magnanimous hearts,wanted to take Ramiro home and cuddle him.



The bullring in my wife's hometown,Jiquilpan ,Michoacan. Rodolfo Gonzalez fought few fights inside that pit while working his way up through the division

[dagosd2000]

d

[dagosd2000]

Honky Tonk Fightin'

Here I go again.When I was a kid back in the day. When I was a kid back in the day,I loved going to Knotts Berry Farm located in Buena Park with my parents.I'm talking about the mid 1950's. There were no thrill seeking crazy adventure parks with their wild and crazy rides back then. Disneyland was around just up the road. It hadn't been around long. If you wanted to go on a scary rollercoaster,Long Beach gave us The Pike with its big wooden thrill a second dipsy doodle rollercoaster called The Cyclone Racer. The pillared giant stretched out over the Pacific Ocean.You could hear the riders screaming all the way out to Catalina Island. No such heart attack causers at Knotts Berry Farm.

My parents always waited in line at the Knotts Chicken Restaurant to savor Mrs. Knotts' chicken dinner with all the trimmings. Gravy and mashed potatoes,country corn ,homemade biscuits ,and ample portions of spring chicken breasts, tender thighs,and tasty wings. After filling our stomachs we'd stroll through the marketplaces eyeing the variety of berries,berry jams and jellies,and berry pies. My favorite spot was The Ghost Town. It was a throwback to when America was the cowboy,the sherrifs fighting the bandits,and the pioneers fulfilling manifest destiny. If the Indians got in the way,there was always the cavalry leading the charge to make way for the future homesteaders and cattlemen.

I bellied up to the bar at The Golden Nugget Saloon and drank my fill of sarsaparillas,watched the dancing girls kick out their gartered gams at the Birdcage Theater,and then would traipse by Judge Roy Bean's combination courthouse and saloon that he named The Jersey Lilly(he put one too many "l's" in the title,). Lily Langtry was the famous English actress of the period.Born on the Isle of Jersey she was a big star in Europe,but Judge Roy caught her act when she toured the colonies in his home state of Texas. I rode the Butterfield Stage ,panned for gold,hop on the Calico Train waiting with bated breath for those masked desperados who would come roarin' inside the car guns a blazin'.I'd gaze at the pictures of outlaws and lawmen,Indians and chiefs. But my favorite place to go in this fantasy time machine was Jim Jeffries Barn.


The original structure was on Jeff's alfalfa farm in Burbank. Inside,Jeff displayed some of his boxing memorabilia.After he passed away in 1953,Knotts Berry Farm had the old relic moved to its Ghost Town. Soon as you'd hit the door,you'd hear that player piano churning out bawdy tunes that echoed within the wooden frame.The walls were filled with old photographs,newspapers,and magazines of the pugilists of Jeffries' day. Of course there was Big Jeff,all man when men were men.Jack Johnson was flashing his golden tooth smile.,The black fighter who broke white men's hearts when he toppled the Boilermaker in Reno. A bevy of other pale skinned aspirants had their fcces on display. There was the tragic McCarty who died in the ring against Pelkey in Canada.Tall Fred Fulton went out like a light against Dempsey in seven seconds of the first round( Doc Kearns could explain what he loaded in Jack's mitts).Another skyscraper,Carl Morris was framed alongside the other "Hopes."It wasn't until that big plowboy Willard finally put Johnson on his back for good under a broiling sky at The Oriental Park Racetrack that whitey resumed his proper place. The great black fighters:the master Joe Gans,The Boston Tar Baby Sam Langford who never got a shot at nothin',the other rival black heavyeights(that included Langford)Sam McVey and Joe Jeanette who were denied fighting for Johnson's crown although Jack wasn't shy about fighting them before he stepped up to the pinnacle. There was Terrble Terry,and the Michigan Assassin,and The Michigan Wildcat.Maulers like the Manassa one, Dempsey, and Greb were in view. The Great John L. ,Gentleman Jim,and Ruby Robert were entitled to reside. in Jeff's barn. My mind was a whirlwind of visions of what it was like in those honky tonk days of boxing.

Oh.I forgot to mention.It didn't cost one red cent to access the premises. Knotts Berry Farm was free to everyone.But times have changed.There's no more Jim Jeffries Barn.No more ghosts of the fighters inside an old wooden structure of a bygone era that are a part of our folklore. It costs an arm and a leg to take your family to Knotts Berry Farm today I guess they had to pay for all those rollercoasters. I wonder what ever happened to the player piano?



It must have been one hell of a day


Joe Jeanette