Classic American West Coast Boxing

[dagosd2000]

The Invasion Of The Body Snatchers

"Ruben.I see you're open,"I said as I caught him outside his gym in Colonia Independencia in Tijuana.
"Rogelio,"he said as he turned around and looked up at me.He was sweeping up in front of the gym."I'm just cleaning up a little.i don't when they'll let me re open this place."
Colonia Independencia is up the hill from where my daughter lives in Canon Jhonson. There's not a lot of stores in Canon Jhonson. Many of the people that live there go up the hill where Independencia is and buy their groceries,get their cars worked on,recreate at the park,send their kids to the public schools.The little league field is there.There's a community hall,assorted little restaurants and taco stands,and the Catholic church. However,with this virus thing going on things have been put on hold,but now they're trying to open up again slowly.Ruben's gym is located in a little run down strip mall next to a carnirceria.
"When do you think they'll let you open?"I asked.
"I'll open when they tell me that's all. I don't make the rules.They say one thing and then change their minds."
Ruben used to be a fighter in Tijuana. He was a lightweight with a pretty fair record.When he retired he opened the gym and had a stable of fighters.I saw a lot of his boys fight in the venues in and around TJ.
"If they see me out here not wearing a mask they'll shut me down for good,"he muttered.
Ruben turned his back on me and began sweeping again over the same surface he had just swept.
"It will be good when things get back to normal,"I said."Then we can sit and talk about the good old days like we used to when this town was a Mecca of boxing."
"A Mecca? Well you can kiss that off.I haven't been able to pay my rent for three months.My landlord says he'll give me some time,but the government doesn't say when we can re open the gyms."
"When it does happen you'll have your customers back."
"My ass.They won't come back. They don't have any money to pay for working out in a gym."
I thought it was time to change gears.
"How's the wife and kids?"I asked.
"They complain that they don't even have money to buy tortillas. You know you can't even buy beer here. They shut down the breweries because of this virus.The only place that sells Mexican beer is in the United States.They make sure the gringos got theirs,"he snapped as he stopped sweeping leaning on the broom.
"Once you get started again your fighters will be back and then you can get them some work."
"What are you talking about?"he grunted."Don't you know what's going on?There hasn't been a fight card in this town for over three months and they don't know when there will be another one."
"What's Alex been doing?The last time I saw him with you he was all excited because he was going to fight for the state title at the racetrack."
"Alex? That lazy bum left Tijuana to go back to his hometown in Navajoa. I haven't seen or heard from him in months and neither has his wife and kid. He can go to hell as far as I'm concerned."
"Remember the time I went with you and Alex to see him fight at the Auditorium.You let me work his corner. After he won we all went out and celebrated."
"You can forget that ever happening again.He's a bum."
Ruben set the broom against the door.He then bent over and picked up a dust pan.As he did that the broom slid to the sidewalk.
"Are you going to stand there and yak at me all day? Can't you see I'm busy?"he grumbled.
I figured I'd had enough of Ruben.
"Well,I'll be getting on,"I said."Hope everything works out for you."
Ruben picked up the broom and the dust pan and started to open the door.Ruben turned and looked down at the sidewalk.
"Hey Ruben,"I said. "You missed a spot."
"What did I miss?"he asked scanning the pavement.
"You missed that pod over there."
Ruben looked around, then opened the door,went inside,and shut the door behind him.


Ruben's gym in Colonia Independencia

[dagosd2000]

Barbeque Sauce

I love to eat. Living in San Diego I've been on a quest to find a great Jewish Deli and ,what they call in the ghetto,a barbeque place that the locals refer to as "the stick."I've searched high and low for the that Jewish deli that would have my business for the duration,but there ain't any.Here's my take on it. I think it's because not many Jews live in San Diego. There's a smattering of Jewish families that live east of the city in the suburb called San Carlos near San Diego State University,but it can't be more than a few families. Just south of highway 8 there's DZ Akins,a Jewish family run restaurant,but ,for example,if you're a Jew from New York's east side and ordered a hot pastrami on rye with yellow mustard(for me that's the barometer)you'll leave half of it on your plate.DZ Akins is about all there is out here and they live on their name,but the rubes that dwell in this burg don't know the difference. Give them a Big Mac or a Dominos pizza and they think they're all Galloping Gourmets.

The barbeque spots have also taken a nose dive. My favorite is R&M Barbeque ,a hole in the wall joint,out on Imperial Avenue across the street from Battles Furniture Store near the Mt. Hope Cemetery. Two old black gals,Ruth and Martha,run the place and have the rep of having "the stick" bestowed on them from the people that live in Southeast San Diego.

Last Saturday I was diving around Southeast San Diego just killing time when I got the yen for some barbeque. Ruth & Martha here I come. My achilles heel is my fondness for Louisiana hot links. Every time I go on a search and destroy inside a barbeque joint I circle the wagons,but then always order Louisiana hot links.

Ruth and Martha's just serves "take out."Inside there's a counter.Not enough room to put out any tables or chairs.Just a counter and the kitchen in the back. Both women work both the front and the kitchen. Ruth is matronly looking,lighter skinned,,tallish, with her gray hair combed straight to shoulder length.Her cherub face is sweet and happy.Her eyes glisten seeing everything with an abundance of serenity. Martha on the other hand is squatty but carries herself with a bounce in her step.Like Ruth, she sees the world as an Eden and never has a disparaging word aimed at anyone.Both ladies are blessed with little girl voices. With this pandemic going around it didn't affect how they do business. There's a continuing flow of people double parked outside coming in to pick up their orders.I was double parked outside.

"Roger,"said Ruth wearing a mask."I haven't see you around lately."
Ruth was working up front. Martha was in the back,also with the mask,stirring up a hot pot of red beans.
"I didn't know if you were open,"I said.
Martha looked over her shoulder and waved at me holding her big soup ladle.
"Business has been good.My customers won't give up on us."
"I don't have to tell you what I want,"I said with that cat swallowing the canary grin.
"You want the soul spaghetti on the side?"asked Ruth.
"You know this Italian can't pass that up.And give me the potato salad too and a hunk of peach cobbler."
"I remember when you used o come inhere with that football team,"she said.
"It was the Ghetto Messengers that turned me on to your place."
"That must have been more than 40 years ago,"Ruth said looking past me out the door.
"Remember when Archie Moore wanted to buy you two out and open a chicken restaurant?"
"He wouldn't let up.He was in here all the time. I'll give him credit. He could cook up a mess of barbeque chicken but we didn't want to let this place go."
"I remember going to a few of those Martin Luther King festivals at Ocean View Park and he'd be there behind a stand selling his chicken dinners."
"I told him if gave me his recipe for his barbeque sauce we'd consider selling."
"What'd he say?"
"He said he wouldn't give that out for nothin'. But we knew that already so we weren't worried. But I still would have liked to know what he put in his barbeque sauce."
"He took that secret with him to his grave."
Martha came around to the front with my order. She had put the food in a plain brown paper bag. The grease from the hot links was soaking through the bag.Both women pulled down their masks.
"I put in some extra slices of white bread and plenty of napkins."
I began reaching for my wallet when Martha put her hand on my arm.
"Don't worry,"she said with a bittersweetness tone."You see, today is our last day. We're closing. We've sold out."
"What are you going to do?"I asked anxiously.
"It's a long story,but it went like this. A few months ago we decided to sell this place and move near the college.We found a guy that had Greek food and wanted out.But we had to sell this place first to come up with a down payment.We had everything set up we thought. Then the health department came in to the new place and said all our fixtures weren't up to code.The floor drain,pipes,the refrigeration was all out of date. Then they said we didn't have the current permits and,licenses.The previous owner didn't tell us anything about that.We don't have the money to do the upgrade so we lost out."
I looked at the two old women.They were both smiling passively.They were so calm and gentle. The silence was deafening.
Then Ruth turned to Martha.
"Maybe we should have sold the place to Archie Moore."said Ruth.
"But then you had to ask him to tell us what he put in that barbeque sauce."

[dagosd2000]

Give Your Dog A Bone

A dog with a bone in his mouth doesn't want to bite anyone. That's how I kind of saw Ronnie Wilson. As long as his manager Sid Flaherty got him fights ,Wilson had that bone in his mouth. Fighting was all he knew and all he wanted to do. Flaherty's bone was his way of getting his charges fights by any means possible. Flaherty brought down from Portland another of his fighters,the tried and true warhorse and former junior middleweight champion Denny Moyer,to keep an eye on Wilson but that was like throwing gasoline on the fire. But Denny, by that time knew his best years, were behind him.As long as Sid could feed him a steady diet of bouts the three flashed that bone in their mouths.Moyer,in a 20 year career had over a 130 fights under his belt. Wilson in 15 years packed in close to 120 ring battles.Plenty of bones to go around and enough money to be made so none of the three had to punch a time clock on a day to day basis.

I got to know Wilson through a friend who Wilson shared an apartment. Ronnie was very popular in San Diego. At the start he showed a lot of promise.He weighed in in and around the light heavyweight poundage. He moved well and knew how to box with the best of them.Flaherty made sure he got his fill of fights. Out West there wasn't an abundance of top quality fighters in that foggy division between the middle weights and the big men.Bob Foster was the king,but everyone under him in the rankings weren't exactly household names.Wilson was on a frenetic path,fighting every two weeks,often fighting guys he had already whupped,but as long as Ronnie could gnaw on that bone he never ran out of meal money or have enough scartch to buy a round of drinks at one of the local watering holes.

A main event featuring Wilson at the San Diego Coliseum was pretty much a standard attraction during his 13 tenure. But as much as Ronnie wanted to get fights ,he began to show an early wear and tear. For one thing he was a bleeder.Fighting every other week with flimsy scar tissue surrounding his orbs didn't do him any good,Wilson rode that roller coaster of winning and losing.His feet were mired in setting concrete as far as advancing towards a showdown with Bob Foster.. His main threat was Jerry Quarry's younger brother Mike.In three tries Wilson couldn't get past Mike. The younger Quarry eventually got a shot at Foster while in the meantime Ronnie was fighting all over the place,now relegated as a club fighter. But Wilson was a good club fighter,. Sometimes I think he wished he had a club with him when he climbed into the ring.Promoters around the globe knew that Ronnie was only a phone call away.

Wilson did most of his fighting between San Diego,Los Angeles,and Las Vegas. 1500 dollars was always in store when he fought at the Silver Slipper in Sin City.He got a call in 1972 to fight a hot Chris Finnegan in jolly ol' England and lost a very close decision.That seemed to be his last hurrah.After losing to Finnegan Wilson knew he had passed the point of no return.It was around that time that I had a falling out with him.

With Denny Moyer making like the pied piper,the two were starting to become a handful for their manager Sid Flaherty. Their companion ship also taxed their homelives.I'd go with them drinking once in awhile. I never knew what to expect: a fight with another dude at the bar, the cops responding to a call from a frantic bartender.There was a spell when the two were tire busters(to pick up a few bucks for their bar hopping antics) at the Firestone shop on Broadway near the Coliseum.Once I was to meet them there after they finished their shift. When I arrived they were already three sheets to the wind, crawling on the floor,wanting o take on the world. Shortly after,I got a call from Ronnie's wife. She wanted to vent about what her husband was putting her through. Like a dope I accepted the invitation.Well, she went home and told her husband that we had met and she said this and that,and the next thing I know Ronnie ran me down and wanted to kick my ass.

I remember Ronnie when he was just starting out and looking very sharp,but it was his appetite for those bones that burned him out. When he wanted to kick my ass,I was probably the only guy he could count on of giving a good beating to.No one could tell him to stop.

When I started posting on the forum I wrote a few articles about my experiences with the pugs at the San Diego Coliseum. Ronnie got some print. But back then I was pretty loose with my mouth that translated through my fingers. Last week I spoke of my loathing about comics like Jack E. Leonard and Don Rickles who fed on exploiting people for a laugh.I could have gotten on stage with those two.After a few hyperbolic anecdotes I got a PM in my inbox from Wilson's son. I remember his son when Ronnie was starting out .Ronnie's son was still being held in his mother's arms.Well ,the young man PM'd me and was plenty sore. He thought I had denigrated his dad.I was taken aback. At first I waned to back peddle and tell his son that"What I really meant was...",but I knew he had me. I had shot off my mouth like a Rickles.I replied with a one liner."I won't write about your dad again."

Shortly after that I took a hiatus from the forum.However, after a couple of years I was back at it again.I had plenty of stories to tell ,but I wanted to get it right this time.I wanted to bring things to life without the discouraging words.I wanted to write about everything again ,but do it with more aplomb. Ronnie Wilson needed to be cleaned up on my part.i didn't want to leave out the details,but to only to eradicate my prior discretions.

I saw Ronnie's last fight. He fought one more time 15 years later,but that was a travesty.I saw Ronnie fight his Mexican veteran counterpart,Marcos Geraldo,out in the east county in the burg of El Cajon.Although we hadn't spoken to each other for a number of years,I wanted to see him look good,but Geraldo had him out in 3 rounds. When he hit the deck I wanted him to stay down. Wilson's main forte was his guts. The way he was going at the end that trait might have put him on a stretcher.Later it caught up with him anyhow.

A few years ago Dan Hanley sent me a link about how an American lady tourist and her children bumped into Wilson in a park in Vancouver,Canada. He was homeless and continuing the imbibing.He shared with her about his life as a fighter and that he got a raw deal in England when he fought Finnegan.Wilson also added he was estranged from his family. The conversation was kind of flippant. I don't think the lady had much of a clue about what he was talking about.But a happenstance encounter with a homeless ex fighter in a park in Vancouver,Canada,what was she going to pusue?She bought him a hot meal and had her picture taken with him. As long as he had that bone in his mouth he wasn't going to bite anyone.

Ronnie Wilson

[dagosd2000]

I Read It Somewhere

I'm as guilty of it as anyone. I write about things that happened way before I was born or things I never experienced, and then talk about like I was ,at least, the fly on the wall. Worse yet,like I was intimate with my subject. But as I go along I can't be parenthetical when I'm describing the situation. I get to be blasé.For example when I talk about my grandfather,Diamond Joe Esposito,I tell it like I was one of his bodyguards.. He was murdered in 1928.I started crying for my mama's bosom when Harry Truman was president.But to hear me tell it you'd think I was sitting at a table in his Bella Napoli next to Capone when he was trying to coax Jack Dempsey and Doc Kearns to play act the fight with Tunney. So if I were to tell this story to some Johnny Come Lately,he might say."Where did you hear that?" Well, my father told me the story a thousand times however he wasn't eating a bowl of spaghetti with those guys either.

How about the historians that go way back and talk about,let's say,the Civil War like they rode beside General Picket when he charged Cemetery Ridge.I always got a kick when I listened to the prominent Civil War historian Shelby Foote smugly reminisce about the Civil War like he still had his musket in his hand.

Nat Fleischer,the founder of The Ring magazine, thought he had the young whippersnappers off balance when he'd draw on his personal experiences having watched guys like Corbett,Jeffries,and Johnson throw leather. How could you argue with him if you were just a twinkle in your daddy's eye when Nat was at ringside watching Benny Leonard give Lew Tendler a trimming?Fleischer WAS there for cryin' out loud. I have a couple of old editions of Fleischer's Ring Record Book. When he began with the early fight results of the "pioneers" ,he added additional anecdotes about their fights under the raw data of who won and who lost By the time it came around in the 1920's Fleischer left out any embellishments.

I'm a history buff.The 20th century is my meat. World War II is a special focus. There's probably more books and documentaries out there about Adolph Hitler than George Washington,Abe Lincoln,and Jesus Christ put together. Unless the talk is coming from say one of his generals,I don't get the intimacy.One of the first well known journalists of the Second World War is William Shirer. His more than a thousand page tome.The Rise And Fall Of The Third Reich, is recommended reading..He was a reporter in Berlin before the war,and when it finished he went to work putting together a history of Nazi Germany,focused mosltly on Hitler. But if you scan his bibliography Shirer's references are as almost as long as the book. So he's gleaning from others about what went down and then put it into his own words.

I also have a copy of what went on in Hitler's bunker at the end of the Battle For Berlin. It's sort of a running diary by one of Hitler's female secretaries,Traudl Junge. She kind of stumbled onto her job in 1943 when Hitler needed some extra fingers to take down his correspondence.At the time she was young and naïve and couldn't see past her typewriter,but her personal obsevations:dining with Hitler's lap dogs at the end of the day listening to his sorrowful ramblings,her anecdotes with Eva Braun and the wives of Hitler's inner circle,Hitler taking her aside to convey some philosophical inklings are fresh and brought to life.Her casual interactions with ghouls like Himmler,Bormann,and Goebbels warrant a innermost familiarity. Something William Shirer couldn't produce from what he found in the library unless it was copied second hand.

But just because someone was inside the loop how do we know if it's all true or just an effort to make himself look good? If I was there then I'm an expert?Maybe. When we read Winston Churchill's Nobel Prize winning Triumph And Tragedy ,ol' Winnie certainly wasn't going to grope around for another source for information about his dealings with World War II.But then again he measure the light was shining on his virtues.

I was watching a documentary titled The World At War,a British production narrated by Sir Laurence Olivier. There's a segment when they show Churchill and his wife Clemmie walking through the bombed rubble of London's East End. The people are there cleaning up the debris and trying to get things back in some order. He comes upon an old woman who's trying to clear the wreckage when he stops and boasts,"We English can take it!"She turned around and let one go at the old lion."You can take it and shove it up your arse!"I don't remember caching that in Triumph And Tragedy.

When this Covid thing goes away I got to get back across the pond and find a nice pub. If I get a snootful and start to carry on about something I wasn't privy to I can always say when asked."I read it somewhere."

Jim Jeffries.He was pals with Nat Fleischer according to him.

[dagosd2000]

You Can't Tell A fighter By Going To The Movies

Movies about boxing are, in my mind, like movies about war. The Hollywood touch puts the flick ,to put it nicely,in an unrealistic light. War movies are glorified to the point that unless you never were in battle you think that that was the way it really was. Well,I was never in no battles nor served my country ,but I remember my dad who landed with the Marines at Okinawa didn't like watching war movies because he thought that they were phony. John Wayne used to really get under his skin. And yeah,even the spaghetti snapper Frank Sinatra used to piss my father off. When he saw Ol' Blue Eyes shooting it out with the Germans my father would always go into one of his Westbrook Pegler tirade. My father always said that the British came the closet to getting the truth out about all that bang bang stuff in celluloid.

Well,getting back to boxing. Sure,I liked "Rocky,"The ensuing "Rocky" movies aped more or less the first one so I never got into them.But to watch Sylvester Stallone act the part of a fighter would make me roll my eyes. Al Silvani was hired to be a consultant and to play the role of an assistant to Burgess Meredith who played the part of Rocky's scruffy manager Mickey.Stallone's "fighting" scenes reminded me of watching a lousy wrestling match. The blows were phony as hell.You could tell they weren't even close to connecting.The part that really got me was the part played by Silvani.They never gave him a line and in every scene he's walking around with a Q Tip in his mouth. I've never seen a cornerman in the ring with a Q Tip in his mouth.I guess that the director thought that's what cornermen have in their mouths all the time. You never no when a fighter's ears needed a cleaning.

Wallace Beery in "The Champ" was a great movie,but to see Beery "boxing" his part in the ring made me wince.They say as big as he was he didn't like getting punched any and they had to speed up the cameras when shooting the boxing scene,but he still looked unbelievable blubbering around like walrus on the sand. He got an Oscar for best actor in that flick,but I don't think it was his talents as a make believe fighter that swung the voters to mark his name on the ballot.

Elvis Presley playing "Kid Galahad" was a stretch. But his movies,though the screenplays focused on a character,were always seen by his fans as Elvis having all the eyes aimed at HIM, the guy who changed the culture from pleasing the grown ups to making their sons and daughters buy his records.

"Gentleman Jim"was a box office hit with Errol Flynn playing Jim Corbett easily out boxing Ward Bond who was the big bad meanie,John L. Sullivan. Flynn who lived a meteoric life style that led to physical problems including a bum ticker could only be filmed for 30 seconds when he was in the ring trying o emulate Gentleman Jim Corbett.Any longer than 30 seconds and it would have been Flynn being counted out for the last time.

I saw a panel of boxing "experts" on the TCM channel talking about the talents of screen actors that emulated fighters.Angelo Dundee was asked to come aboard to give his two cents.Well,he put his money on Flynn,who he said could have been a good fighter if he wanted. I guess Angelo didn't know that Flynn wouldn't pass any pre fight doctor exams with that ill heart of his. Howewer,the consensus was that the worst portrayal of a pug was Jimmy Cagney's role of the young fighter,Jimmy Kane, in one of his early movies "Winner Take All."They showed Cagney in the boxing scenes.Yeah,he was pretty bad.Prancing around the ring looking like the Energizing Bunny,Cagney didn't live up to his mantra tough guy image of shoving grapefruits into gun molls faces.

Getting back to Stallone. Years ago my son was running a bistro in Hollywood when "Rocky" began bothering one of the waitresses. He'd sneak around the back where the kitchen was and try to woo her.He kept it up and kept it up all the while my son telling him if he wanted to put the moves on her he'd should do it when her shift was over.Well, horny Sly didn't heed my son's warnings so one night when Stallone had this girl cornered by the dishwasher my son came over and grabbed him by the shirt and rushed him out the door into the alley. Al Silvani's with his Q Tip in his mouth wouldn't have helped him out one bit.

[dagosd2000]

The Royal Venue

The last time I was in London I made it a point to visit Royal Albert Hall. I first became aware of the place many years ago when watching Alfred Hitchcock's remake of "The Man That Knew Too Much." The scene inside Royal Albert Hall while the concert was going on with the hired assassin who wanted to murder the leader of that foreign country with Doris Day and Jimmy Stewart trying desperately to intervene to prevent the murder is one of Hitchcock's best efforts as a director.My wife,granddaughter,and I got on one of those double decker tour busses that you can hop on and off from when touring the city. One of the stops was Royal Albert Hall.I gave them the signal to disembark.The building was closed but my imagination was open to the images of classical music concerts,the ballet,and the boxing matches that took place there.

I can't think of a comparable site in the United States that offers a cross section with such diversity. Carnegie Hall in New York for decades stuck to the long hair music until the 1940's when impresarios let in jazz musicians to play their riffs. Some highbrow critics called that a sacrilege,but very few readers saw the rational with their arguments.I know Henry Cooper, Lennox Lewis,and Prince Haseem Hamad fought at Royal Albert Hall. But going back further I first discovered British old timers like Len Harvey,Jack Peterson,Tommy Farr,and Freddie Mills laced up their gloves inside the treasured London landmark.

I touched upon this before:my venture to a great ol' pub in the City Of London called The Cockpit.It was a site many years ago of a cockfighting arena. My wife,granddaughter, and I were on holiday taking a side trip to London from Seville,Spain where my granddaughter Amanda was taking her annual flamenco courses from her long time instructor Miguel Vargas. I've forgotten the name of the hotel we stayed in in the City,but it was right next to St. Paul's Cathedral.

One evening I wanted to get away from the women while they went on a search and destroy mission of the local shops so I took a walk around and wound up in a quaint little area of cobblestone streets highlighted with an array of pubs. The Cockpit was on an island in the center of the area and looked as inviting as the others.There was this little Scottie dog sleeping at the door and that was the hook that got me to go inside.

I'm not much into drinking room temperature ales so I asked the barkeep what he had on tap that was cold. He drew me a Carlings.The guy reminded me of that English actor Richard Attenborough,shirt sleeves rolled up and wearing a vest.There were soft easy chairs scattered around and mahogany tables with the daily papers strewn on the tops. Old lamps with paisley shades provided the light and there was no jukebox to make any unwanted noise. Converstion was all that was required to set the mood. I could tell that at certain hours,especially in the evenings when the locals got off the Tube after their daily work rituals, that The Cockpit provided a place to unwind and catch up with their friends about what had happened that day. Men with ties loosened , carrying their briefcases, bellying up to the bar, and then bringing back their pints to nudge next to a neighborhood chum to express their thoughts about anything under the stars.

Once in awhile I'd get in a few words with someone.When they picked up on my American accent the conversation immediately turned to their experiences in their former colony. I wanted to find out about England and found it a chore to focus these blokes on what was going down in their neck of the woods. That's when I went back to the Richard Attenborough look alike barkeep and began striking up a bond of sorts. That bond was glued together with boxing.The guy's name was Mike and when I felt him out about boxing it was like opening up a fountainhead. We went back and forth about the British pugs and how they sized up to the Yanks. At the time Lennox Lewis was on top of the heap of the heavyweights.I told him that Henry Cooper was one of my favorites and that really brought a smile o his face.When I told him that I saw a picture of Our Henery working his green grocer stand it was like we became instant English compadres.Then Mike let me know that the Queen had knighted Cooper,the only fighter bestowed that honor,and now it was time to hoist our glasses to Cooper,The Queen,Lennox Lewis,Winston Churchill,and The Battle of Britain. After wiping away the tears we had one more toast to the special affinity between Great Britain and The United States. In the vernacular we were cousins.Mike and me were also a bit tiddly. After recognizing all the English speaking peoples we called it an evening.(Besides it was closing time).For a finale we broke into that song that was big during the war-guess which one?

The other day when they asked The Queen about this bloody virus she intuitively charmed us with the name of that song.It might seem sappy,but if you got a beef with me then go on, you take it up with The Queen.I dare you.





The guy who popped Cassius Clay the hardest




From "The Man Who Knew Too Much" Inside Albert Hall with Doris Day and Jimmy Stewart trying to thwart the assassination. Alfred Hitchcock director. Bernard Hermann conducting the orchestra.Doesn't get any better than this


Hitch

[dagosd2000]

What It Takes To Be The Greatest,And What It Doesn't

I saw an interview with Muhammad Ali's son ,Muhammad Jr. He said that his father wouldn't have gone along with the Black Lives Matter's mantra of "Black Lives Matter."Junior said that his father would have considered the BLM movement "racist." He also added an extra sock in the mouth saying that the protestors are "devils." To embellish the quote he professed that his dad would have proclaimed that "All lives matter.I don't think he'd agree.It's not just black lives,but white lives matter.Chinese lives matter.All lives matter,everybody's lives matter.God loves everyone-he never singled anyone out.Killing is wrong no matter who it is."As for Antifa and the rioters his venom continued to spew."They're no different from Muslim terrorists.They're f--king up businesses,beating up innocent people in the neighborhood,smashing up police stations,and shops. They're terrorists...I'd take them all out."

Ali's ex wife Khalilah also jumped in.
"I'm glad Ali isn't here to see this.He'd go off on everybody.Ali would retaliate."
Pretty strong stuff. But the bottom line is would Ali really say something like that if he were still living?

Being the son of Muhammad Ali must be a difficult life. People always comparing the son with the father.When the son is approached he knows that the questions will be about his father. I've seen a couple of interviews with the son and the only time his opinion is requested it's in a documentary about his father. No one wants to know what the son is like. Is he married?Does he have kids?What does he do for a living.What's his faith?What's his favorite flavor of ice cream?

One time in one of those documentaries the son said that his father once said something that befuddled him.
"Son,"exclaimed The Greatest to his son."I want you to know that I'm not The Greatest but that you are The Greatest."
As Junior recalled the scene he spoke vacantly.
"He's telling me that I'm going to be The Greatest.What did he ever do to mentor me towards that statement?He spent very little time with me. I had no idea what he meant."
I guess by Ali saying that to his son he wanted to make up for time lost. A son knows the truth of the matter.A few glorious accolades won't compensate.

When we think of "great" figures in history when we examine their children they've often been sacrificed so those great people(parent) could continue to go on being great. FDR's kids were a hodgepodge of broken marriages(19) and wanderings. Churchill's offspring were tainted by divorce,alcoholism,and suicide.

Sadly.when a person is on that pedestal he doesn't have much spare time to devote to his family.The appetite of popularity and fame doesn't leave any room in their tummies for parental obligations. There's not even time for a piece of pie and a cup of coffee on the bill of fare.When we think of Muhammad Ali for example we relish the feats of him beating Liston,Frazier,and Foreman. His stand against the government. The wit and charm that made his face the most recognizable on earth.The books and documentaries,and even a movie of his life.And of course all the women that threw themselves at him.

I wonder how many of us think it would have been wonderful to be a part of Ali's family?A wife. A son or daughter. When searching those areas the image that develops is out of focus.We don't like looking at fuzzy pictures. So we redirect our attention to the things that made us call him The Greatest.Too bad those things were never embraced with his family.

[dagosd2000]

East Is East And West Is West So Let's Get Together

There was a window in the late 60's going through to the late 70's,early 80's, when there was a hot rivalry between the Mexican fighters and their Asian counterparts. Mexico(and I mean the Mexican nationals)were loaded with talent in the lighter weight classes. Asian fighters at similar weights had plenty of good boys out there too and that set up a host of good fights between the two camps. Ok,let me make it clear that the Asians were a compilation of Japanese,Thai,Korean,and Filipino fighters. They were always in great shape though most of them didn't pack the punch that the Mexican fighters had in their gloves they came to fight.

I guess the rivalry began to pick up steam in 1963 when Mexican Joe Medel hopped a flight to Tokyo to do battle with Fighting Harada. Harada was a buzzsaw and always in tip top shape. It looked like he was going to win this one via KO or at least a decision,but Medel drew deep inside and fought back until he began connecting with some big shots that put Harada's rising sun back below the horizon. They were at it again in 1967 when Fighting held the belt.This time Fighting won a clear cut going away 15 round decision.

Vicente Saldivar,the featherweight champ,had back to back defenses against Japan's Mitsunori Seki. Both fights were in Mexico City. Before I go on It's a valid point to make that often Mexican fighters got off to slow starts against a non Mexican opponent. I know what it is. The Mexican fighter sometimes thinks "What the hell am I doing here?I'm not in the mood".Then they start getting smacked around and they start thinking about how they're looking like a "maricon" and then they get pissed off and come to life and now you need a pick axe to kill 'em. Saldivar almost gave the first fight away before he woke up and came back the strong bull. The second go around was different. Vicente went to work early and finished Seki in 6.In 1970 when Saldivar was being talked up as maybe the greatest featherweight champ ever,I saw him lose in a stunning TKO loss when his corner threw in the towel in Tijuana's Municipal Auditorium against a lightly regarded Kuniaki Shibata. Saldivar just never got going. It looked like the fight was out of him before he entered the ring.

Ricardo Arredondo, from my wife's state of Michoacán, was a frequent fighter in Japan winning a super featherweight title from Yoshiaki Numata. Arredondo went back and forth over there winning and loses titles,but when he hung up his gloves he said "sayonara" to Mexico and went back to Nippon, got "soy sauce fever", and married a Japanese gal.

I saw the very good Thai ,Venice Borkhorsor, give up his flyweight belt to step a division and fight Julio Guerrero in Tijuana's bullring. Venice was a lefty and Julio's big weapon was his left hook. He tried to break down the Thai with the punch but caught nothing but elbows and armpits.Julio couldn't stand up after 6 rounds. Venice then met Rafael Herrera at The Forum and got robbed after 15 rounds unable to fly back across the Pacific with a title belt.

El Puas Olivares almost let his title slip away in Japan against Kazuyoshi Kanazawa but fought back tenaciously to put a stop to the upset with a 14 round stoppage that sent the fans out of the arena to find comfort with their Geishas.

The Mexican national fighter with most combat ribbons against his Asian counterparts was the great Alacron Torres. He fought Chionoi three times in championship fights and added Hanagata also twice in title goes to his boxing resume.

Miguel Canto,who the aficianados called "El Maestro"(The Teacher)led his Banzai charge against a two of Japan's best Shoji Oguma and Kimio Furusawa returning to Mexico with his crown still on his head.But Korea's Chan -Hee Park finally knocked it off when Miguel couldn't slip away like he had done so many times before in his hay day.

And my pal "Gato" Gonzalez came up short in two tries against Guts Ishimatsu in Japan losing his WBC lightweight title. "Guts"showed that he had a lot of intestinal fortitude thus putting an end to "Gato's" impressive boxing career.


I'll end this boxing history with some history regarding a social condition.You'll notice there was no mention of any Chinese fighters in my discourse. That's because that Commie country didn't foster any pro sports to develop. But looking at it now when I go to Tijuana I can see all the Chinese I want. They're Chinese/Mexicans.Legally they are Mexican citizens and speak Spanish and Chinese,and some English.Their ancestors are the same ones who were paid to come to the Southwest to lay the track to for the Southern Pacific Railroad except they toiled in Mexico for the same company.And like their cousins ,who stayed in America, the Chinese laborers stayed in Mexico.They kept to themselves.Opened up businesses(laundries,general stores,and restaurants,[they invented their own type of Chinese food including Chop Suey]) to serve their race. They encountered the same racist attacks that were happening north of the border to their Chinese brethren.When the Mexican Revolution broke out in 1910 they wanted no part in it. However,the Mexican combatants,revoutionaries and federales, took it out on them for being unpatriotic killing them like jack rabbits.

Like I said you can't swing a dead cat in TJ without hitting a Mexican /Chinese person. Mostly,they operate their restaurants specializing in Cantonese food. I like Cantonese better than all this trendy Schezuan,Korean,and Thai food that they have in San Diego.The best Cantonese food in the world is in Tijuana and Mexicali.Only Chinese /Mexicans own and work in these eateries.All the waitresses I've seen in these joints don't write your order down.You give them your order and they memorize it and take it back to the kitchen.

One night after a romp in the Coahuila I stopped to fill my stomach at one of the Chinese cafes.My curiosity got the best of me so I asked the waitress where was the "Chinatown" in Tijuana explaining that every big city stateside has a "Chinatown."
"There is no Chinatown in Tijuana,"said the girl.
"That's odd. Why is that?"
"The Mexicans won't allow it. That would be a sign of strength.Of unity.So we live all over the city."
Well.how do you like that?They should start a protest. Call it Chinese Lives Matter.But if they did that the TJ cops would make Chop Suey out of them.


What I usually order when I hit a Chinese restaurant in TJ-Pollo Cantonese.Picture taken at a little place across the street from Parque Guerrero.There's a lot of guys that stand around the park that bang out dented fenders and do touch up painting.I was getting a little work done on my car so I decided to get something to eat

[dagosd2000]

Sgt.

When Joe Louis got his discharge from the army he had been promoted to the rank of sergeant. When I first became aware of that I thought they had slighted him. Jimmy Stewart was promoted to brigadier general. But then again during World War II he flew 20 missions piloting his B-24 over Germany.He earned a slew of medals and was the highest decorated pilot that emerged from the Silver Screen. Louis never left the States and thus never saw combat. Charles Lindbergh resigned his commission from the Army Air Corps prior to World War II getting himself into hot water being a leading spokesman for the pacifist America First Organization.He liked going to Nazi Germany palling around with Hermann Goering and they gave him a medal that he kept around even after it came to light what a bad thing Nazi Germany was doing to the rest of the world. When the war broke out however,he wanted back into the service but Roosevelt hated his guts and told him he wasn't wanted.Lindbergh then went to work for Chance-Vaught testing aircraft in the Pacific. He flew combat missions but it was all on kind of on the hush hush. Later,after Roosevelt's death,Eisenhower recommissioned him and Chuck wound up like Stewart-a brigadier general.They made Glenn Miller a captain in the Army Air Force but the only thing he ever flew was a rendition of the song Flying Home played on his slide trombone.And then of course there was Ronald Reagan who made public service shorts for the military serving in the Army Reserves.The Army felt he deserved a captain's rank. Like I said before,I thought they cut Joe Louis making him only an NCO-a sergeant.

But then I got to thinking about it and thought that it was all proper:Louis being a sergeant instead of an officer.Maybe because he was black and didn't speak articulating with all the fancy words that they gave him only the 3 stripes.When he died they buried him in Arlington.By then his life had been examined and I think everyone realized that he wasn't a presumptuous sort who put on any airs.I'll say it again. Joe Louis probably did more for bridging the white and black gap than any other black politician, reverand,activist,or entertainer. What you saw with Joe Louis was the real thing.He didn't care to to have all that fruit salad on his chest and being saluted.

Maybe the white man back then thought that all blacks should behave like Joe Louis.That he "knew his place."He wasn't pissed off,but blacks back then didn't spout off about injustice or they could get lynched..The thing was though that Louis wasn't putting on an act. Oh sure they told him not to be seen with white women who were waiting in line to take tumble with the champ. He was told not to celebrate in the ring after disposing of another bum of the month white fighter. But he wasn't that kind of guy anyway.When Conn was getting the best of him in fight number one.Billy got tangled in the ropes for a second. When Louis saw that he stepped back so the challenger could free himself. The crowd at MSG applauded that act of sportsmanship.

Leeches like Mike Jacobs and Joe Gould robbed Joe Louis blind because they knew they could get away with it. Later,the IRS would send a posse after him to get their dough.His post boxing career was a sort of tragedy.He turned to wrestling to earn a buck. His wife divorced him when the lawyers told her that with the money she'd get it could jump start her singing career. She never made a record.Ash Resnick who operated Caesar's Palace made him a "greeter" at the door.Me and the wife bumped into him there once and he was very generous.He even asked me who I thought the best heavyweight out there was.I couldn't help answer,"Joe Louis."

When I was coaching football at the local high school,one of Louis' adopted children,John ,was on the squad.He was a DB and I was the line coach so I didn't have much interaction with the kid. I wanted to approach him and feel him about about his stepfather,but never did. This was after Louis had passed away. I didn't want to bother the kid about things that he probably didn't know so I left alone on the subject. Besides, I don't think the young man wanted to be defined as Joe Louis' stepson.

A few years ago Louis' only natural son,Joe Jr., posted on the forum.i can't remember what he wrote.Something to clear up a trivial matter. it was his only post. I PM'd him but discovered that he had deleted his name from BoxRec.I wanted to know what had become of his stepbrother. Can't say I blame him for erasing his name from the roster. He's got his own life. I'm sure he doesn't want to defined only as Joe Louis' son.

I used to work ,when I was with the County Of San Diego in charge of pest control with a good 'ol boy redneck they called "Tiz." He was in the big war and was with the Army when Rommel's boys ran through those GIs at the Kasserine Pass in North Africa. But TIz held his ground and as a reward they gave him a bunch of medals. Prior to going overseas he was stationed at Ft. Benning,Georgia for boot camp.Tiz said that Joe Louis fought an exhibition for the troops but under the condition that the black soldiers would be mixed with the white boys. Tiz went on to say that his unit "volunteered' their drill sergeant. Well,he couldn't keep a straight face when he described how Louis,who was pulling his punches for the most part,let one loose knocking Mr. 3 Stripes to the canvas. Of course the enlisted fellas' got a rise out of that.

There was also a story going around,according to Tiz,that after Louis won the title,he returned Alabama and gave the white owners of the farm, where Louis' parents had sharecropped, some money to help them through the Depression.

I never heard Tiz speak a discouraging word about Joe Louis though he never said anything nice either.All blacks to Tiz were "n-----s" in his view of things,but he never referred to Joe Louis using that vulgarism. Tiz came out of the war as a sergeant.Maybe that had something to do with it.

[Chuck1052]

In regards to James Stewart becoming an officer during World War II, he enlisted as a private in the U.S. Army Corps while having previous experience flying airplanes at the beginning of the war. Competent pilots were very likely to become officers while in the service during a war even if they weren't movie stars. It also didn't hurt his chances that he graduated from Princeton.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

In regards to James Stewart becoming an officer during World War II, he enlisted as a private in the U.S. Army Corps while having previous experience flying airplanes at the beginning of the war. Competent pilots were very likely to become officers while in the service during a war even if they weren't movie stars. It also didn't hurt his chances that he graduated from Princeton.

- Chuck Johnston

Thanks Chuck
Interesting sidelight to Stewart after the war.He married a divorcee Gloria McLean who had two sons by a previous marrage(Stewart and her had twin daughters).When the Vietnam War broke out one of the boys, Ronald, joined the Marine Corps.The other son,Michael,was a strong anti-war activist.At the dinner table Michael would express his anti-war sentiments drawing an angry backlash from Stewart who was a staunch backer of the military. Ronald was killed in action in 1969.

On a personal note.Politicians make these wars.I thought that the war in Vietnam was the United States' most grievous blunder. However to demonstrate at home and have those soldiers over there feel that they weren't being supported,and to add insult perceived by some as war criminals,was irresponsible and unpatriotic.Most of those boys in Nam were conscripts. If I were a parent and had a son in a war it would break my heart to know that civilian protestors were focusing their dissatisfactions at my son.Go ahead and aim at the pols.They're the ones that need to think twice before jumping into the worst act of human endeavours.

[Chuck1052]

In regards to James Stewart becoming an officer during World War II, he enlisted as a private in the U.S. Army Corps while having previous experience flying airplanes at the beginning of the war. Competent pilots were very likely to become officers while in the service during a war even if they weren't movie stars. It also didn't hurt his chances that he graduated from Princeton.

- Chuck Johnston

Thanks Chuck
Interesting sidelight to Stewart after the war.He married a divorcee Gloria McLean who had two sons by a previous marrage(Stewart and her had twin daughters).When the Vietnam War broke out one of the boys, Ronald, joined the Marine Corps.The other son,Michael,was a strong anti-war activist.At the dinner table Michael would express his anti-war sentiments drawing an angry backlash from Stewart who was a staunch backer of the military. Ronald was killed in action in 1969.

On a personal note.Politicians make these wars.I thought that the war in Vietnam was the United States' most grievous blunder. However to demonstrate at home and have those soldiers over there feel that they weren't being supported,and to add insult perceived by some as war criminals,was irresponsible and unpatriotic.Most of those boys in Nam were conscripts. If I were a parent and had a son in a war it would break my heart to know that civilian protestors were focusing their dissatisfactions at my son.Go ahead and aim at the pols.They're the ones that need to think twice before jumping into the worst act of human endeavours.

Roger, I believe that the U.S. getting into the war in Vietnam during the 1960s and invading Iraq in 2003 were terrible blunders. The Vietnam conflict was essentially a civil war and really didn't make that much of a difference worldwide in regards to who won. Recently, Vietnam, against all odds, has done relatively well economically.

In regards to Iraqi, it appears the Saddam Hussein was somewhat like Marshall Tito in that he was able to keep his country intact. Sure, Saddam was a tyrant, but the U.S. didn't seem to have a viable plan to keep things from getting out of hand after removing him.

I also believe that the ill-treatment of the veterans of unpopular wars is terrible. The veterans simply were doing their duty and weren't the policymakers.

- Chuck

[dagosd2000]

Thanks Chuck
Interesting sidelight to Stewart after the war.He married a divorcee Gloria McLean who had two sons by a previous marrage(Stewart and her had twin daughters).When the Vietnam War broke out one of the boys, Ronald, joined the Marine Corps.The other son,Michael,was a strong anti-war activist.At the dinner table Michael would express his anti-war sentiments drawing an angry backlash from Stewart who was a staunch backer of the military. Ronald was killed in action in 1969.

On a personal note.Politicians make these wars.I thought that the war in Vietnam was the United States' most grievous blunder. However to demonstrate at home and have those soldiers over there feel that they weren't being supported,and to add insult perceived by some as war criminals,was irresponsible and unpatriotic.Most of those boys in Nam were conscripts. If I were a parent and had a son in a war it would break my heart to know that civilian protestors were focusing their dissatisfactions at my son.Go ahead and aim at the pols.They're the ones that need to think twice before jumping into the worst act of human endeavours.

Roger, I believe that the U.S. getting into the war in Vietnam during the 1960s and invading Iraq in 2003 were terrible blunders. The Vietnam conflict was essentially a civil war and really didn't make that much of a difference worldwide in regards to who won. Recently, Vietnam, against all odds, has done relatively well economically.

In regards to Iraqi, it appears the Saddam Hussein was somewhat like Marshall Tito in that he was able to keep his country intact. Sure, Saddam was a tyrant, but the U.S. didn't seem to have a viable plan to keep things from getting out of hand after removing him.

I also believe that the ill-treatment of the veterans of unpopular wars is terrible. The veterans simply were doing their duty and weren't the policymakers.

- Chuck

I agree Chuck.My mechanic is from Iraq.He said after Hussein was ousted it upset the balance of power in the Middle East and unstabilized the region.Hussein was the tyrannical watchdog but a necessary evil.My mechanic said,prior to the invasion, that the economy was good enough that he could make a living working on cars.After Hussein was overthrown it became a factional war with every man for himself. USA here I come

[dagosd2000]

After The Fall

When Pipino Cuevas began fighting he claimed to be 14 years old.He said he used a forged birth certificate to get the commission to grant him a boxing license.Sporting a scanty amateur career he entered professional boxing drawing scant notice.He fought on the undercards at the famous Arena Coliseo in Mexico City winning and losing not leaving much of a mark. then they got him a visa to come to Los Angeles to be a setup guy for Andy "The Hawk" Price.The fight,in front of a crowd at the Olympic Auditorium, went according to plan with Price winning a comfortable decision.

After Father Time and John Stracey put Jose Napoles out to pasture,the two associations ,The WBA and WBC,were maneuvering to keep their respective welterweight champions from ever unifying the title.Stracey had lost his WBC belt in his second defense to Carlos Palomino.After Napoles got a gift in Acapulco leaving the ring with a DQ win over Armando Muniz,the WBA title was open. Puerto Rico's Angel Espada and the Canadian Clyde Gray fought for the vacancy with Angel flying home with the victory.

Espada was flashy and Puerto Rican and so a defense against the stoic and Mexican Cuevas was a natural.Espada had no panic attacks putting his championship on the line in the middle of the desert in Mexicali,Mexico.On paper it looked like a soft defense. Cuevas had nothing that startled anyone when perusing his record.I remember watching the fight on Mexican TV.It was close with Cuevas stalking, and Espada on the move.But Cuevas' pressure wore Espada down to the point that when the gong sounded for the 12th round Angel stayed on his stool.

Cuevas was the perfect remedy after Napoles went into retirement.Now there was a Mexican national,Cuevas;and Palomino considerd a Chicano,even though he was born in Mexico. He had become a U.S. citizen when he was a kid and had never fought in a Mexican arena. They way the aficianados on both sides of the border felt their allegiance was in Cuevas' corner.After winning the title Cuevas went on a rampage winning 11 straight defenses ,10 ending before the 15th round.

I remember Cuevas during that run Pipino becoming a sort of cult figure. His impassive character contrasted with his relentless fighting style. His jaw was made of granite.He never was knocked off his feet and though the bombs kept landing on his chin they had the effect of duds. There was a story going around that he was riding in the passenger seat of a car when the vehicle hit a telephone pole with Pipino's head crashing through the windshield. He then brushed off the broken glass,straightened out his shirt,and walked cross the street to the nearest bar and bought drinks for the house.They wrote a song in his honor."Pipino Es Mi Campeon."They were singing it in the streets.He was as big a hero as Zapata and Villa rolled into one. There was even talk between the aficianados that he could win the heavyweight championship.He was indestructible like Superman.

But then came Tommy Hearns.Though The Motor City Hit Man was undefeated Pipino's's chin would deflect Tommy's bombs.The fight was really no fight. Tommy's left and rights had Pipino reeling around the ring like he'd been drinking pulque in the cantina all night long.He fell flat on his face in more ways than one.

After that loss Mexico hadn't given upon him yet. But Pipino had given up on himself. He fought a couple of easy fights to help get himself on track again but then Roger Stafford out boxed him in a big upset in Las Vegas. Pipino looked like he had he'd lost his high gear.Like his mind was somewhere else. His next fight would be a crossroads.it was also a pivotal fight for his opponent,Roberto Duran. Both boys were titleless and looking to be marquis idols once again. The promo for the fight was,"Someone Is Gonna' Fall." Well,it wasn't Roberto that would topple.Cuevas' fire by this time had exstinguished.Roberto still had the gas jets on.

After the fall Cuevas was never a contender again.The aficianados turned their backs on him. I saw what turned out to be his last fight in Tijuana at the Auditorium against Lupe Aquino.The aficianados were behind Lupe. Cuevas, when he took off his robe,looked sick. He was bloated and sweating bullets like he had a fever or was on something. Aquino bombed him out in two.That didn't earn him any appreciation with the crowd. He was booed out of the ring.

When rubbing elbows with Mexico's old timers who go way back talking of the great Mexican champions,Pipino Cuevas' name doesn't get mentioned much. The way he lost to Hearns and Duran were devastating to his rep.
And as far as that song that they wrote for him,if you have the record it isn't worth a plug peso.


Pipino Cuevas

[dagosd2000]

An Empty Kitty

Come to think of it when Muhammad Ali was winding down his training at The Town And Country Hotel in San Diego for his fight with Ken Norton I never saw a hide or hair of Archie Moore. Ali had been working out for two weeks and I never saw the Ol' Mongoose show up either at the Town And Country nor make an appearance with The Greatest in a television interview,a photo session,or just Archie by himself making a prediction. But after all it wasn't a shock. Moore didn't like Ali. For starters the young Cassius Clay ,fresh from the Olympics, was in Moore's training camp in the foothills of Ramona trying to get a sense what it was like to be tutored by a master.But Archie would be lecturing him all the time,a condescending experience of being talked to like a kid who had never learned the difference between right and wrong. On top of that young Cassius was made to sweep floors,make his bed, and wash dishes.(My mama never made me wash dishes.Why should I start now?)

The time Clay spent with Moore was a wash. I knew Moore later on at his boys club. His preaching was OK with those kids,but as far as the gold medalist with an ego that was as large as a gold mine it was wasted words falling on deaf ears. Archie liked to be perceived as something extra-a guru that supplemented boxing skills with a philosophy that would take you to a higher life's plain.Sort of a Siddartha sitting at the Ganges finding the meaning of life.If washing dishes was a part of that awakening then young Cassius would look for another trainer. A trainer that would let him do what he wanted to do with no moralizing added.Angelo Dundee was that trainer.He'd let the kid keep on acting like a kid. Clay already had a daddy.He didn't need another father figure.All Clay's dad wanted to do was to be content painting the names of the great fighters on the rocks outside his son's training facility. And Cassius was damn proud of his dad's artwork.As far as what Archie Moore had to say to him Cassius turned a deaf ear.To Archie that was a slight. He didn't like to be slighted. He wanted o be revered.Leave that kind of adulation for the kids and the reporters. Honestly,many of the other black fighters thought Archie was full of himself at times.

But the insult to add to the snubbing injury was what Clay put on Moore in their fight up in LA.Moore may have thought of himself as a negro Plato but Clay saw himself as a black Ogden Nash. Simple little limericks that predicted the round when he'd finish off his adversary. For Archie it was short and sweet."Moore will fall in four."

Looking back at the fight I think Cassius ,if he had wanted could have finished off Moore in the 1st round,but "Moore" rhymes with four so it was in the 4th round that Cassius towered over the 40 ish old man ,arms extended upright,and a shuffle thrown in for good measure. It was one of those fights that should have never been made.

Moore carried a grudge for Clay and later when he turned into Ali,While I was helping Moore at his Any Boys Can Club out on Federal Boulevard in southeast San Diego I never heard Moore mention Ali. I remember he had this sign up on the wall with a bunch of his homespun rules. There was list a cuss words that if heard in the gym a fine would be imposed up to a dollar. Sometimes Archie would slip up and he'd have to feed the kitty. Like I said, he never brought up any reference to Clay or Ali,but I'm sure if he did he would have couched his name with some vulgarism.I doubt though he would have thrown any of his money in the pot.


"Moore will fall in four"

[dagosd2000]

Archie Moore with his young charges at his Any Boy Can Club

[dagosd2000]

Matters About Some Black Lives

I was watching that old movie from the 40's "Washington Slept Here" starring Jack Benny and Ann Sheridan. It was pretty popular at the box office,but the combination of Benny and Sheridan playing the parts of husband and wife left me flat as did the picture.Also in the cast was Hattie McDaniel who played the part of Hester the maid. She spoke in that plantation negro dialect that sounded like it came straight out of Gone With the Wind and wearing her apron. There's a short scene in the movie where she complains about something to Benny and Sheridan and then they both mimic her speech with copious hyperbole. I guess that got a lot of laughs in the movie theaters in Manhattan. Of course it wasn't written in McDaniel's lines of her taking any offense at the slur. She just stood there like dummy muttering to herself.

Speaking of Hattie McDaniel,she was in the highest grossing movie ever,"Gone With The Wind"(until Ben Hur came around) and won an Oscar for her role as a maid on the Tara Plantation. Another black actress, Butterfly McQueen,starred alongside McDaniel and to watch them act their parts you'd think that life being a slave on the plantation was next the best thing to pouring Aunt Jemima syrup on your flapjacks. Butterfly's big line in the flick was "Oh Miss Scarlet I don't know nuthin' bout birthin' babies." Gone With The Wind premiered in Atlanta. Both women were barred from going to the opening because they were black. When Hattie walked on stage to receive her Oscar she was wearing a full length mink.

When Louis Armstrong was elected "Zulu King" at the Mardi Gras festival he said it was the greatest honor ever bestowed on him.They dressed him up as the Zulu chief,in a grass skirt, with a bone in his nose, and because they thought he didn't look "black" enough they smeared his body with a coat of ebony greasepaint.

The ol' Mongoose Archie Moore was Jim the runaway slave to Eddie Hodges' Huckleberry Finn in the movie of the same name.Moore was in his 40's by then,and still fighting, when the movie came out in 1960.The movie was OK. So was Moore's Jim.There was talk that he was being considered being nominated for an Academy Award.However,I guess they just thought about it.It wasn't the greatest acting job,but the people on the set remarked he took the role very seriously.

Hattie,Butterfly,Louis, and Archie represented the old age of negroes in the field of entertainment and sports. There were certainly others-Lena Horne,Eddie "Rochester" Anderson,Ethel Waters,to name a few more. Paul Robeson was in that group but then had had enough being stereotyped in the "Yes Master" ilk. He went to Russia and became a Commie,but found out the color of his skin didn't do him any good there,even less, than in America.

Yesterday I wrote about the contrasts between the old negro fighter-Archie Moore,symbolizing the status quo,and Muhammad Ali,the new breed of revolutionary cat who spoke for his discontented race. Moore played the part of a slave in the movies. Ali played himself when he starred in the movie about his life. Their acting abilities were far below their worth as pugilists. When Clay was looking down on Moore after he knocked him to the canvas in their fight in Los Angeles I'm sure The Louisville Lip wasn't thinking of auditioning for the part of The Kingfish in Amos 'n Andy.

But to categorize Moore as a one of the last of the Uncle Tom's would be unfair. When I knew him he certainly carried himself with dignity ,even though you had to hear him validate his ego with ample embellishment. Today, an athlete like Moore,Joe Louis,Henry Armstrong,or Ezzard Charles would take a back seat in the Black movement to the LeBrons,Kaepernicks,Tysons,and of course The Greatest. You noticed I didn't include Jackie Robinson,the first black player in Major League Baseball.He was pugnacious for sure, but his political party was Republican and he voted for Nixon over Kennedy.

There's a beef going on in America with the police and the blacks.Some want police departments defunded or done away with. Others want more cops on the street. Cops,anywhere on the planet,have never been the most popular people on the government dole.In movies like "The Sting", "Cool Hand Luke","Bonnie And Clyde",and "The Shawshank Redemption" the bad guys are portrayed as the good guys. in 20th century lingo-the "anti hero."Beginning after World War 2 we grew up having this idea pressed on us that the bad guys wouldn't have been so naughty if society hadn't of dealt them a hand from the bottom of the deck. It was someone else's fault that they turned to crime.When I started working at the jails I have to tell you that I was thinking in the back of my mind what these prisoners(and that goes for the white ones too) were going to do when they hit the streets. Most of them I'd see again a few months later back in the gray bar hotel.Ask any of them and they'd tell you they wee innocent.

Here' an anecdote I feel I must share with you especially with this police brutality issue and The Black Lives Matter movement in full swing making a lot of the news. When I was asked to play on that all black football team(I say that because I was the only vanilla face on the roster),"The Ghetto Messengers" our final game would be against members the San Diego Police Department.They called the game "The Copper Bowl." Well,it was an eyeopener for me.In the huddle the Messengers would say "This is the only time we can can hit a cop in the mouth and only get a 15 yard penalty."And let me tell you there were a lot of split lips and teeth lost on the ol' gridiron. I was stunned.Almost after every play one of the Messengers would unwind and let a cop have it in the mouth,the back of the head,in the balls,or just a plain old spit in the face. This stuff occurred during and after a play was over. Never once did I see a cop retaliate.The befuddled dummy would stand there holding his mouth together and then mumble."Why did you do that?"This only sent the signal that the cops were scared. But what really got me was that none of his teammates would come to his rescue.They just stood around and gawked like little wimps.The refs(who were white) threw flags but never kicked any of the Messengers out of the game. I never joined in the fun because it was chicken s--t,but the brothers were never upset with me. To be honest I felt safer with them than I did with those cops.

We played the cops two times before they said they didn't want to play anymore with us and took their ball and went home. So what's all this mean?To me it says if someone hits you in the mouth for no reason you're not a man if you don't hit back.Every life matters.


Archie Moore

[dagosd2000]

The Way To Greatness

"There used to be so many fighters in Tijuana.They all had work.They all were making money. But it's different now," said Ruben sitting behind his desk,his hands folded on top of the newspaper, inside his gym in Colonia Independencia.
"With this pandemic everything has been put on hold",I said sitting across from him.
The last time I'd spoke to him he had just reopened his gym. He wasn't in a very good mood. But today he seemed like he had resigned himself to the fact that everyone was in the same boat.The gym was empty and he had not turned on the lights.The door was left open to let the morning sun come in.
"Boxing will not survive without the club fighters,"he said in his gravely voice.
"So how's your business getting along?"
"Like all the others.One day they keep saying that things will return to normal and then the next day they say things are back on hold.Just think.They have the that arena right across the street and they won't allow any fights.I sit here looking at it and want to cry."
"It's the same thing in San Diego.it gets to be nerve racking."
"What I don't understand is they say this is like the pandemic of 1919 that killed over 20 million people. So far this coronavirus as killed 500 thousand and the world's population has doubled since then.'
"My wife watches the Mexican station .Televisa. All they do all day is talk about this virus.They've got everyone worried."
"Isn't Televisa owned by NBC?"asked Ruben as he shifted his weight in his chair.
Ruben had the Tijuana newspaper,El Mexicano opened on top of his desk.An empty cup of coffee was on top of the newspaper.
"All the news is about how many murders happened in Tijuana last night and the virus,"he frowned.
"I try not to listen to it anymore,"I said.
Ruben unfolded his hands.
"Remember Joe Valdez?"he asked.
"The stocky featherweight?"
Yeh.He was in here the other day."
"He was a pretty regular fighter here in town."
"He fought a lot in the States too."
"I saw him fight at the Coliseum in San Diego and here at the Auditorio.He was a baby bull.What's he up to?"
"Well,he was training some fighters here in TJ but that's all gone now."
"Without the club fighters boxing will die. I mean how do the great fighters build their reputations?"
"In Mexico it's especially tough. Their visas have been suspended until at least the first of the year so they can't fight in the States."
"It's always been tough to make a go of it here,"I said.
"These boys who were fighting in these clubs in TJ now have to try and find work here."
"By the way what's the pay like now?"
"If you can find something it's around eight dollars a day."
Ruben put the empty coffee cup inside the drawer, folded the newspaper and tossed it on the floor.
"Ruben,"i said just thinking of something."Remember when we went to the fights at the Jai Alai Palace and saw Chuy Chavez?"
"That was one of the best fights I ever saw,"he beamed."I thought he was out but then he came back and stopped that guy.Everybody was on their feet for the entire fight."
"There was blood all over us,"I said shaking my head and laughing.
"I never saw so much money thrown into the ring!"
"Whatever happened to Chavez?"
"You won't believe it but I took him with me after that fight.I got him a fight with Art Hafey up in LA?"
"What happened?"
"Hafey knocked him out cold in the first round."
"Don't you think you might have rushed him?"
"I guess you call it that way.But then the great fighters build their reputations beating those club guys."


The Jai Alai Palace in Tijuana. Now an off track betting joint and casino.

[dagosd2000]

It's Not How you Play The Game It's What You Pay To Play

I worked with a custodian at my last school site. His name is Jose Cobian. All the custodial crew was Mexican including the head custodian. Every school in the district was comprised of the same dynamic.I never was at a school where the custodial crews were constantly butting heads with their boss. It came time when the head custodian retired and the principal promoted Jose to lead man. That's when he got it stuck in his ear from his former crew ,who he was once part of. The crews thought that if one of their own got promoted that he was a traitor. His methods didn't differ from his former boss.They wee more or less fair.It was a matter of one of their own got ahead.It's like that old Mexican anecdote of "The Crabs In The Bucket."If one of their own wants to climb out of the bucket the rest of the crabs will claw him back down. Instead of congratulating Jose or at least obeying his decisions,they fought him tooth and nail on everything.

Jose also refereed the fights in San Diego and across the border.He'd let me know when he was working a fight and I'd usually go.I don't know what the union rate was for working the fights in California,but he never complained about getting stiffed.However,when he worked in TJ he'd come to work the next day and have something to say.
"The promoter said he would give me 400 pesos(around 40 dollars back then),but when it was over he said that the gate was down so he could only pay me 200,"he'd lament.
"So what can you do about it?"I asked.
"Nothing.But I won't be refereeing any fights in TJ anymore."

The sport of boxing is notorious for the hanky panky. In Mexico it's just a part of the culture. Gaspar Ortega told me once that near the end of career he took a fight on short notice somewhere in the interior. He was by himself except for a Mexican kid that acted like a "gofer."The night before the fight he sent the kid out to get something to eat.The kid returned with the food and Ortega ate it and then went to bed. When Ortega woke up the next morning he was convulsing in pain. He figured right off that he was poisoned. He looked for the kid, but he was nowhere in sight. Ortega got himself together the best he could and made it to the fight. When he got in the ring he looked across at his opponent's corner.There was the kid that brought him the food. His foe was a stiff so Ortega,weak as he was,finshed the guy off in the first round.

James "the Heat" Kinchen told me that he had a few fights in Tijuana at the Auditorium. He said the dressing room was one big room where all the fighters would get dressed.He added that just about all the fighters were getting their gloves "loaded" by their managers. It was all out in the open. Kinchen said if there were any commission people in the room they looked the other way.

"Cheto" Torres who operates his gym in Plaza Santa Cecelia in Tijuana said to me that the commissions are rife with putting the "bite"(mordida) on managers to allow their fighters to be on one of their cards. But it doesn't stop with that. For instance if a fighter loses a decision,his people can get the promotors or the commission to phone in a "win" thus skewing the original result.A body like BoxRec for example has been duped by these liars.

I've gone on about how I coached American football at that private school in Tijuana,CETYs.When we played on the U.S, side everything was on the up and up. But when we played another Mexican team in TJ the refs were constantly trying to shake me down so they could call the game "correctly."I'd tell them that I wasn't going for stuff like that. I remember one game when we played our rival there ,Instituto Mexico.The referees had their hands out before the game but came up empty with me. Every time we scored a touchdown the refs would throw a flag and call it back.My assistant coaches got upset and in the process they were tossed from the sidelines.So here I am by myself on the field and then I start catching it from the crowd.
"Hey,you f--king gringo. Your mother is a whore and you are a f---king 'puto' ".
What could I do?Take them on?My coaches sat in the stands and did nothing. After the game my coaches said that the referees told them that they felt "shame" and were sorry they did what they did and if it was all right with me we'd all(the refs included) go out and get something to eat.Of course they'd figured it would be on m dime.I regreted to tell them that I wanted to go home.But I saw them (the refs included)pile in a car and head off to somewhere.I'd been part of something like that before.Here's how it goes.They'd have the waitress go back and forth drinking 14 cups of coffee each and then not leave her a tip.

But if what I just ran by you sounds repugnant, it is in spades. But you've got to think of it this way. They do it to themselves and they know that.Mexico is disgusted with itself.They know it but nothing changes.But if you're out of touch with their way of life and are one of these people who thinks that if I treat you nice you'll treat me nice you're setting yourself up for disappointment.

But don't get me wrong. My wife is Mexican.When I go to Mexico I connect immediately. I'm not saying that is good for me.I just know where everything is coming from.And when to duck.

"Cheto" Torres owner of "Cheto's" Gym


Jose Cobian on the right with his principal ,his former boss,and friend of mine Joe Broz.

[dagosd2000]

Love In Action.

Yes,Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant Jimmie Howard was also a fighter in the ring. Yes,his platoon was the most decorated unit in Vietnam.Yes,he earned the Congressional Medal Of Honor.But unless you asked him about his combat exploits he never would initiate a conversation about what he did to get America's highest and most prestigious military award. At least he never brought it up with me or anyone else that was coaching high school football at Point Loma High School.My father was the same way. He was a Marine in the Pacific Theater landing at Peleliu and Okinawa,but he never mentioned it around me unless I asked him something about it.Believe me my father could on and on about Al Capone and Frank Nitti,but to know that he was a soldier in combat you'd have to ask him "What did you do in the war daddy?" And his responses were for the most part just cordial.But that's the way it is with soldiers that were in those battles.Unless they met someone,especially another Marine who was in combat,they kept it to themselves. To bring it up with a civilian was irreverent in a way.

But when I was working with Jimmie Howard on the ol' gridiron at the school he wouldn't hold back talking about his teenage aspirations of becoming a fighter.
"Back then after the war just about all the schools had boxing as part of their P.E. program."
But when the fighting started in Korea Jimmie joined the Marines and earned himself a Silver Star.A wartime pal described Jimmie.
"He was a John Wayne type of guy.A hard slab of a man with a poker face.He walked into an area and you could almost hear the theme song from the Sands Of Iwo Jima."
When that action was over Jimmie stayed true to The Corps.He married his high school sweetheart and they had three kids.:twin daughters and a son.Jimmie tested his mettle representing the Marine Corps Recruit Depot boxing team.
"I was Ok at best,"he said of his boxing experience. "But I wasn't what you'd call a world beater. If I had won some tournaments they wouldn't have sent me to Vietnam. But to tell you the truth I wanted to go.Boxing was more fun and games. I wasn't very good so they sent me to Vietnam as a platoon leader.To tell the truth I felt better about that.I always wanted to lead a group of young men."
That's were his platoon on a recon mission got surrounded by a battalion of North Vietnamese regulars.His platoon ran out of ammo and Jimmie took a round in his back paralyzing him.He then crawled from fox hole to foxhole encouraging his men to keep going.
"But we're out of ammunition Sarge."
"Then throw rocks!,"he came back with.
Eventually, the platoon was airlifted by helicopter back to basecamp.

When I talk about working with Jimmie Howard at the school with the football team,I guess I should tell you he was the equipment manager.He had the diabetes pretty bad by then .They had to take off part of his leg and he had to wear a special walking shoe. He drove his little cart around that held the cones and water bottles and chalk.He was assisted by a few high school girls who never would be considered being chosen for cheerleaders. He was happy and never thought his job was demeaning.The team won a few championships. We all got plaques-the players and coaches.

When I think back on it and try to assess the man I come up with the same conclusion.Jimmie Howard was a man, who in whatever he did ,put his love for everyone in action.Whether it was on the battlefield or driving his little cart around the football field.


Jimmie Howard getting some rest after the battle was over.

[Chuck1052]

Love In Action.

Yes,Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant Jimmie Howard was also a fighter in the ring. Yes,his platoon was the most decorated unit in Vietnam.Yes,he earned the Congressional Medal Of Honor.But unless you asked him about his combat exploits he never would initiate a conversation about what he did to get America's highest and most prestigious military award. At least he never brought it up with me or anyone else that was coaching high school football at Point Loma High School.My father was the same way. He was a Marine in the Pacific Theater landing at Peleliu and Okinawa,but he never mentioned it around me unless I asked him something about it.Believe me my father could on and on about Al Capone and Frank Nitti,but to know that he was a soldier in combat you'd have to ask him "What did you do in the war daddy?" And his responses were for the most part just cordial.But that's the way it is with soldiers that were in those battles.Unless they met someone,especially another Marine who was in combat,they kept it to themselves. To bring it up with a civilian was irreverent in a way.


But when I was working with Jimmie Howard on the ol' gridiron at the school he wouldn't hold back talking about his teenage aspirations of becoming a fighter.
"Back then after the war just about all the schools had boxing as part of their P.E. program."
But when the fighting started in Korea Jimmie joined the Marines and earned himself a Silver Star.A wartime pal described Jimmie.
"He was a John Wayne type of guy.A hard slab of a man with a poker face.He walked into an area and you could almost hear the theme song from the Sands Of Iwo Jima."
When that action was over Jimmie stayed true to The Corps.He married his high school sweetheart and they had three kids.:twin daughters and a son.Jimmie tested his mettle representing the Marine Corps Recruit Depot boxing team.
"I was Ok at best,"he said of his boxing experience. "But I wasn't what you'd call a world beater. If I had won some tournaments they wouldn't have sent me to Vietnam. But to tell you the truth I wanted to go.Boxing was more fun and games. I wasn't very good so they sent me to Vietnam as a platoon leader.To tell the truth I felt better about that.I always wanted to lead a group of young men."
That's were his platoon on a recon mission got surrounded by a battalion of North Vietnamese regulars.His platoon ran out of ammo and Jimmie took a round in his back paralyzing him.He then crawled from fox hole to foxhole encouraging his men to keep going.
"But we're out of ammunition Sarge."
"Then throw rocks!,"he came back with.
Eventually, the platoon was airlifted by helicopter back to basecamp.

When I talk about working with Jimmie Howard at the school with the football team,I guess I should tell you he was the equipment manager.He had the diabetes pretty bad by then .They had to take off part of his leg and he had to wear a special walking shoe. He drove his little cart around that held the cones and water bottles and chalk.He was assisted by a few high school girls who never would be considered being chosen for cheerleaders. He was happy and never thought his job was demeaning.The team won a few championships. We all got plaques-the players and coaches.

When I think back on it and try to assess the man I come up with the same conclusion.Jimmie Howard was a man, who in whatever he did ,put his love for everyone in action.Whether it was on the battlefield or driving his little cart around the football field.


Jimmie Howard getting some rest after the battle was over.

My maternal grandfather, Edward Henderson, saw plenty of action as an ambulance drive in the U.S. Army on the front lines on the Western Front in France during World War I. His ambulance unit sustained very heavy casualties. I was told that Grandfather and one other fellow were the only ones were not killed or wounded in the unit. Grandfather pointed out that he had to keep driving the ambulance in areas that were being shelled while other fighting men were taking cover in the trenches.

Grandfather talked very little about his war experiences. He did talk about non-war incidents that he experienced in France and about being in the British Isles while take law courses at Lincoln's Inn (which he was able to do as an American war veteran) in London after the war ended. Grandfather completed his legal studies at Stanford University and went on have a legal career in Ventura County over a span of more than forty years.

- Chuck Johnston

[dagosd2000]

I'm A Different Boy

Charles Lindbergh was probably the greatest hero in the world before World War II.Then he began sounding off against the possibility of the United States entering into second world war and he got himself in hot water.The anti war America First Movement was more than enthusiastic to give him a platform.However,as Germany and Japan began ramping up their intentions to start one, and Lindbergh's orations hinting of anti Semitism,his visitations to Germany as a guest of Goering, receiving Nazi medals that he refused to throw away after Germany officially kicked things off invading Poland on September 1st,!939 turned the country and President Roosevelt to reset him to a persona non grata status. After the war Lindbergh stayed out o the limelight. He was a shy sort and purposely stayed aloof. But he kept active working for companies contracted with the Department Of Defense.Later ,after the death of his wife Anne in 2001(Lindbergh passed away in 1974)it was revealed that Lindbergh had fathered 7 children with three different women(two were sisters)while he was sneaking off to Germany on "business."Lindbergh hated publicity hounds ,especially media reporters. However,a newsman was able corner Lindbergh in the 50's and posed a very mundane question.
"What was it like to fly solo across the Atlantic?"
Lindbergh looked down on the pest and smirked.
"That was then and this is now.I'm a different boy now."

Maybe not the greatest hero,but certainly the most recognizable face on the planet after the war was Muhammad Ali. Think of it. What if those naughty kids in Louisville,Kentucky hadn't stolen his bicycle prompting a skinny 12 year old Cassius Clay to go to the local police department and giving in to policeman and boxing trainer Joe Martin to teach him the rudiments of boxing?There would have no one in the sports history spectrum to equal his megastar status.

After Holmes beat him there was a final travesty with Berbick,but still Ali's star wouldn't lose brilliance. We could see signs near the end that he had slipped,but because he was who he was we looked the other way.After finally retiring for good the illness crept up on him on little cat's feet. He'd show up at a fight or two,but as he aged his interests about the sport that he ruled like a mystical god became a less talked about topic.His prior anger and flamboyance melted into peace and a universality of global brotherhood.

I was watching a 60 Minutes hosted by Ed Bradley sometime back in the mid 90's. His guest of honor was Muhammad Ali. By this time Ali was physically pretty shaky. Yet,he still had that glint in the eye,his way of seeing through a verbal façade and cutting to the chase with wit and humor.Ali's wife Loni was by his side. You could tell Bradley wanted to corner The Greatest about his past fighting accomoplshments,but Muhammad could still float like a butterfly away from something that happened a long time ago.Ali put Bradley into a neutral corner by running a ruse by the presumptuous pressman.Suddenly Ali put his head down on the table in front of him and acted like he was having a seizure. Loni told Bradley that this kind of thing crops up from time to time and they'd just have to wait until Ali came out of it.You could see the apprehension devour ol' Ed. Then Ali snapped out of his trance and began to laugh. Muhammad was making a funny.He sure had ol' Ed going. Of course Loni was in on it.

But Ed had had enough of Ali's shenanigans.Ed wanted center stage now. So what does he do?He whips out that iconic photograph of Ali standing over the fallen Sonny Liston,waving his arm,a scowl on his face demnading that The Bear come out of hibernation.Ed thought that he'd get a knee jerk response,a scoop about one of the many landmark moments in Ali's supernatural career.Instead Ali popped out of his chair like a Jack In The Box and without saying a thing stormed out of the room. Interview over.Just a lot of egg on ol' Ed's face.

Men like Lindbergh.Muhammad Ali.They conquered mountains that others could only call hills.But they never stopped with their accomplishments and lived off their names. There was the whole world at their feet that would stoke the flames forever and ever. They didn't need to toot their horns.There were plenty of mouths that could blow wind into their legends.

If Lindbergh kept his Nazi medal on his mantle,Ali put all his awards with a tarp over them in a shed in the back of his house. He kept the cover on because he didn't want the pigeons to poop on all those symbols of his past. He was still The Greatest. He had just come to a time in his life where he didn't want to talk about it anymore.




Muhammad Ali after all the shouting

[dagosd2000]

Dusk

Last week in Canon Jhonson they took Fonso away in an ambulance. He's 90 years.He had fallen and couldn't get up so his daughter called for an ambulance.At the hospital they said he had a broken hip and to go along with that a throat infection. Yesterday his daughter called and said he was diagnosed with the virus.Alfonso used to be a fighter.I never saw him fight. Most of his bouts were in Mexico City and in the interior. He said that he never fought a match in Tijuana.After retiring from fighting he moved to Tijuana in 1965 with his wife and three small daughters. The reason he came to Tijuana was to get a working visa and cross the border to work in the fields in the Bracero program. He said that he did stoop labor picking everything that was ready for harvest:lettuce,tomatos,every fruit tree you can name. He worked all over California,mostly in the San Joaquin Valley.He worked in the fields for 10 years.While there he became acquainted with Cesar Chavez and his United Farm Workers movement.Fonso told me that he really respected Chavez,He was a man that sacrificed for the farm workers.The man had ideals.When Bobby Kennedy was running in the California Democrat primary in 1968,Fonso said he volunteered to go out and register voters for Kennedy's run. It was said that those volunteers like Fonso was part of the team that signed up more than 100,000 voters to vote.It was those voters that swung the victory for Kennedy.One day when Fonso was about to enter the fields and start to work a crop dusting plane flew overhead and began dusting the crops that Fonso and the rest of the workers were about to reap.Fonso was sort of a spoke person for the group and told their boss that they didn't want to go into those fields while the plane was dusting. The boss got very upset and threatened to fire every man if he didn't go in there and work.So they went in. It was episodes like this that inspired Cesar Chavez to organize his movement.But after years of working in poisonous environments caused by irresponsible crop dusting Fonso's lungs got sick. Maybe it was COPD or cancer.I don't know,but Fonso never returned to the fields.


I met Fonso in Canon Jhonson when I was first married to my wife and he was living across the street with his wife and two of his daughters.The oldest one was married by that time but lived with her husband just up the hill.Through the years he aged handsomely.A high forehead displayed a regalness.Even at his age his stance was still erect. His wavy black hair turned a distinctive gray without any receding.His eyes were always calm that reflected his demeanor.He said he was a featherweight and probably still could have tipped the bar at 125 pounds.On the weekends in the evenings Fonso would come out and drink beer with the rest of the the men who lived in the vicinity. He was older than the rest of us. He'd start talking about his fighting around the country in all the different arenas except that he never fought in Tijuana.During the day he'd hop a ride in a "calafia" and go downtown where he had a little cart and sell his tacos.His cart was on the corner of 10th and Negrete Streets. Around 6 o'clock he'd be back home in Canon Jhonson.Life basically went on like that with Fonso.Everyone knew him and he had made many friends. He was always happy and I never heard him talking about anyone in a disparaging manner.if someone else did he'd stay back from contributing any remarks until a more sociable subject came up.

A few yeas ago Fonso's wife got so strung out with her arthritis that she had to be in a wheelchair. That's when his youngest daughter moved in to live with her parents to help take care of them Her husband had left her years ago with two kids. She never remarried.She worked in the little "aborottes" down the street.When Fonso got sick last week,even though he was 90 and had the problems with his lungs, he seemed pretty fit for an old timer. He limped a little but it was nothing uncommon with people his age.Then came the fall,the trip in the ambulance to the hospital,and later the diagnosis that he had the virus.The hospital says that only immediate family can visit him.

Me and the wife,we can only wait to see what happens.it's in God's hands. I don't know what's going through his mind. i remember all those evenings when we'd be leaning against the cars drinking "cahuamas" of Corona beer and swapping lies and having a good time. We sure laughed plenty and when we got enough beer in us we'd start singing those old Mexican songs.You know, I've always thought dusk was the most beautiful time of the day.

[dagosd2000]

Taking A Little Off The Top

Just Off the top Of My Head:Was scanning the "Worst British Heavyweight Thread."One name who came to my mind was Brian London.The lantern jawed fighter really didn't have much going for him except that he'd step into the ring with anybody.During the 50's and into the next decade he fought just about all the top heavyweights in Europe and the United States(except for Sonny Liston) without much success.Way back in the thread I took some shots at him below the belt that later I rethought as being unfair. He fought too long ,and that usually means he was fighting for the money.The top Brit heavyweight in the 50's was Henry Cooper. London had lost to him twice,but Patterson (and Cus D'Amato) gave London a shot at the title instead of Ol' Henery.D'Amato knew what he had with Patterson-a talented fighter,but a guy that had a lot of self doubts that translated into a glass jaw.So London got the shot because they figured that Floyd couldn't lose.The fight was held in Indianapolis. The fans wanted to see Patterson fight one of the three top heavyweights(Liston,Machen,or Folley)but Cus drew the color line and figured his charge couldn't beat any of those three. That's why the fight was in Indiana instead of in The Garden in New York.The fight was shown live on TV. London was game,but Patterson was too fast for him.It wasn't much of a contest. The heavyweight picture was dimming fast.

Also the other day I was looking at Lamar Clark's record.I see that his name came up today in a post.I remember when the talked about Cassius Clay was doing a lot of talking about that he wanted to be the youngest heavyweight champion ever.When he signed to fight Clark I thought that maybe Cassius was being rushed too fast.He started off with 5 wins in sites like Miami and Louisville ,and now he was going to be tested by a fighter who had 45 fights losing only 2.The shocker was that all those 42 wins were via KO.But Clay had a lot of smart people with him and they must have known what they were doing.Cassius dazzled Lamar of his feet inside 2 rounds.It was Clark's last fight.But if you examine his record all his fights,with the exception of a few,were in his home state of Utah. 29 of his wins were against fighters who had never fought professionally. It seemed like those "Tough Man" competitions you'd see at a state fair or in some smoke filled bar.

Ken Norton did most of his "good" sparring in Los Angeles with his stablemate Joe Frazier.Though Norton fought early on in his career in San Diego, Eddie Futch primed him with Joe up in Los Angeles. It was a good barometer for Eddie to see if Frazier was staying sharp and that Norton was getting in some quality work to get him ready for the big time.It would have been interesting to see those two fight each other later on.I think Joe had too much heart for Norton.Both fighters ended their careers in 1981.You always knew what you were going to get out of Frazier. Norton,it was hard to tell. He could psyche himself out and he'd be toast.


Smokin' Joe

[dagosd2000]

The Fighter Whose Toughest Fight Was With Himself

Yesterday I commented about Floyd Patterson.When Rocky Marciano retired in 1956 he left the title open. Pattrson had fought mostly as a light heavyweight,but his manager Cus D'Amato controlled his career overbearingly.The big money was always to be made with the heavyweights and Cus was telling everybody that that's where his charge was headed.Jim Norris ,who was the guru of his International Boxing Club, stated that Patterson could enter an elimination tournament to vie for the biggest prize in boxing. Ring Magazine then jumped on the bandwagon and put Patterson at number 5 among the world's heavyweights thus removing his name from the light heavyweight rankings..Looking back on all this prior finagling leaves me with a low brow and a smirk,but what the hell. Boxing has always attracted the film noir type black and white seediness. What would have Rod Serling and Budd Shulberg had to write about without those fedora wearing characters pulling the strings and triggers?

Patterson's pre exam was against Tommy " Hurricane" Jackson,a fighter with a better resume than Floyd's,but The "Hurricane" couldn't blow enough wind to sink Patterson's ship losing a split decision.So with that win they all thought Patterson was qualified to fight Archie Moore for the title. Moore thought he could outbox Marciano easily in 1955 to become the first light heavyweight champ ,setting a milestone, winning that crown that sparkled with more jewels that the hat he was wearing at 174 pounds.

In a huge upset Moore looked as bad as he ever did in his 28 year career. He blamed his loss on the ring mat being too soft,but I bet that those guys back east who made their livings betting had more to do with Moore losing than a spongy canvas.

After the the boxing world basked in the auras of Joe Louis and Rocky Marciano(with a rest period of Ezzard Charles and Jersey Joe Walcott)it was now time that Floyd Patterson to step up to the plate and hit some homeruns.But when Floyd got into the batter's box his manager , Cus D'Amato, made sure the guys throwing the ol' pill had sore arms.For three trying years we,the boxing nuts went crazy watching Patterson fight at best, hyped up sparring partners. It was Jackson again who was acting "funny" in the ring but we were laughing at him not with him.Rademacher who had no pro fights but had won an Olympic gold medal. To his credit he knocked Floyd off his feet and probably could of used his medal to tie Patterson's feet to keep him from getting up.Then there was Roy"Cut and Shoot" Harris who was unbeaten but the public still wasn't interested.And finally Brian London who I wrote a few words about on yesterday.Game but outgunned.

We,the boxing nuts,wanted to see riper fruit like Eddie Machen,Zora Folley,Nino Valdes,or a bear that was awakening from hibernation named Sonny Liston.But over in Sweden Eddie Machen ,the number one ranked contender,went into the ring with the pride of Gothenburg,Ingemar Johannson.Ingemar had a right hand that everyone called "Ingo's Bingo" mainly because they didn't know how to pronounce Johannson's first name. Well Eddie caught one of those right hands and Ingemar yelled "Bingo".Machen left the ring like he'd drank a fifth of schnapps.

D'Amato thought that a fighter with the name of "Bingo" and also an amateur in the Olympics who got rubber legged when he saw the giant American Ed Sanders staring at him from across the ring, would be another guy they could put in Floyd's win column. But the two fought three times swapping the title back and forth with Patterson left standing at the end. All three fights were very exciting to say the least.But come on now Floyd. Fight a guy the public wants, to validate your position. But no.Cus put him in there with Tom McNeely. By now the heavyweight championship was becoming a laughingstock. Back then they could have used like what we have today-a slew of bogus organizations with their own standards, ratings ,and champions all bought and paid for.

I'll stop here with my history lesson that if you should all know if you were born before 1950 or should know if you've gone to the library enough times. After Liston 1&2 the public put Patterson out of their minds. You know they always talk about the humiliation of Robert Duran when he walked away waving his arm from Ray Leonard spitting out "No mas."He quit and that was all there was to it. He'll always have that stigma underneath his epitaph.But think of this. Floyd Patterson brought a mask with him to the second fight he had with Liston. He already had his mind made up. How long before the fight had he convinced himself that couldn't win?"No mas" was already engraved in his mind when before he entered the ring.

Patterson was still around after he lost his title. He thought he still had the goods to make a comeback. But the champ wasn't the enigma Liston anymore,a fighter that Patterson could never have beaten.Now it was Clay,later Ali. Patterson was never in his league at that time(Who was?) When Ali was fighting Uncle Sam instead of fighters and was stripped of his title, Floyd was put into another elimination tournament.But Jerry Quarry and Jimmy Ellis stole his thunder and his decisions. However,in 1972 in his last fight, Muhammad Ali and Floyd Patterson fought for the NABF title.

Patterson was a psychiatrist's dream. He was always sulking.You'd see him in panel discussions and he'd be speaking almost inaudiblely,head looking down at the floor. i don't know if he was trying to be humble or it was something he ate. He was one of the most puzzling individuals on the planet. His adopted son ,Tracy,was a fighter.Floyd trained him ,but there was always tension. Patterson still called Ali "Clay" ,Patterson said he did that because that was his "Christian" name. It was also a slave name. I just couldn't buy into Patterson's self pity. In the first fight with Ali, Patterson was being held up in the corner between rounds by Dan Florio because his back "went out." It felt like he wanted alms thrown at him.The first time they put on that performance the referee should have immediately stopped the fight. But he let the melancholy drag on.

Patterson' ducking the top contenders for so long after he won the title,his pathetic efforts with Liston,the disguise he had inside a brown paper bag in his locker,the moping in front of the public,the Acadamy Award performance with the back,his insistence calling Ali "Clay"-for me it was all a turn off.


Floyd Patterson