Classic American West Coast Boxing

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No Reinventing The Wheel

I want to make something clear. As other sports have come up with new ideas in fundamentals,strategies,and techniques boxing doesn't need to reinvent the wheel. The properties that go into making a good fighter are engraved in stone. it just is that rack has been ignored out of ignorance.The knowledge that goes into being a good trainer and then passed to the fighter is not a quick read.It takes years of study.

It's a shame to see so much potential unfulfilled. But that's not the fighter's fault.There's no one to teach him.What we see today is not even a pale imitation because what's transpiring in the ring starts with a false premise.

I'm going to pat myself on the back a little with an analogy of the sport I coached,football,with boxing. I've gone over some of the times I coached that high school football team in Tijuana.When I got the yen to do that I didn't know what I was getting myself into. The team had played games against teams on the U.S. side and never won a game.They would get slaughtered.They'd lose by scores of 60 to nothing.I had never seen them play so when I crossed the border to see if they'd hire the gringo I thought I'd see a bunch of little runts on the practice field.To my surprise the players matched up in physical stature and abilities with the players on the American teams.

But it was immediately evident that what they lacked was proper coaching. I put those kids into the weight room and started a regimen. I made my staff attend football clinics on the U.S. side to learn strategies.I started at the bottom with teaching fundamentals at all the positions. We did everything together emphasising the team concept.I pushed everyone when they wanted to go home. The result was in two years we won 9 out of 13 games against American teams.It was an accomplishment never done before-the first time a team from Mexico won against American teams.

I often think about those unpolished kids when I took over in the late 80's.I still stay in contact with some of them today.They will always cherish those victories.

Then I think of all the rough around the edges fighters today trying to make headway.I don't even think they know they're being short changed.

Angelo Dundee.Started out carrying the bucket at Stillman's Gym in the 1930's. Kept his mouth shut and paid attention and learned how to be a trainer.

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One of the kids on that team I coached in Tijuana,CETYs,surprised me with a caricature he did for me.Those were good days

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The Art Of The Clinch

I was watching the replay of the Clay/Liston fight in Miami the other night when you know who
"Shocked The World" bursting Sonny Liston's balloon.I've been talking about the finer points that a trainer can pass along.One thing I've never heard a comment about from any of the TV broadcasters is the art of clinching..Yes,it's a vital strategy,or at least an emergency measure that a fighter should have up his glove when he time calls.In Miami that night Clay's knowledge of when it was time to hold and grab turned out to be something savvy.

Big Sonny came out of his corner wanting to teach this young punk a lesson.His pace was pedal to the metal.(You think Foreman later would give this fight a study) Well, it was obvious that Liston had dynamite in his gloves,especially the left one,but his supplemation of skills was lacking.In the 2nd round Clay started to open up on the big lug and had him covering up.No Patterson here. Liston was starting to huff and puff.The air was not only letting out of his balloon but his confidence was beginning to follow suit.

Then it must have been sometime during the 4th frame when something got into Clay's eyes. It was probably liniment or some ointment.Whether it was on Liston's glove or on his body the goo got into Clay's lamps, We don't no if the intent was accident or deliberate.Clay went back to his corner shrieking for Angelo to "Cut off the gloves." Well, excuses are like assholes.Everybody's got one.As Angelo was trying to wash out the substance he told Clay he ain't going for the scissors."Go out there and run!"

But Cassius was unable to 'run." He couldn't see where he was going.As he rose off his stool for the bell it was obvious that he was in trouble. Everyone was picking up that something was amiss with The Lip.It didn't take Sonny long to figure that it's now or never. Sonny rushed in with both hands pumping. He aim was at Clay's body.He thought of Clay as working on the heavy bag.Clay was in no condition to mount any attack. He could barely see the Big Bear.Blinking like a Nervous Nelly trying to get his focus back all he could do is try to stave off the wild rush. He held on for dear life.But it wasn't a totally desperate gesture.

When Sonny buried his chest against Clay pounding away the kid did something genius. Cassius grabbed Liston around the head with his left glove and pulled his body down and to his left. Now Liston's right hand punch had lost its leverage and its sock.Liston used the hand to keep his balance.But he was still banging with the left-his big punch.But Clay showed his smarts.He pushed Sonny's torso down farther down with that hold that he had around Liston's head and now Liston had lost his leverage with his best weapon. As Sonny still tried to get the left going Cassius extended his right arm to catch Liston's left from starting any momentum. Liston thought he could power his way through the problem but it showed that brain had the right of away over brawn.Liston was like the bear that got his foot caught in the trapper's trap.Instead of trying to pull out of the dilemma he wore himself out even more. Clay's clinch turned out to be an effective offense.

Getting back to what a trainer can pass on to a fighter.Clinching is an important part of the game. It's an art.Clay picked it up somewhere. He was not only the better fighter but the smarter one. It goes hand in hand,or in glove so to speak.


Sonny Liston

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This Old House.

Archie Moore liked to show off his barbeque talents and one of the ways he did that was that he'd have a block party out in front of his house in that cul de sac.The other day I was in that neighborhood in Southeast San Diego and I always pass the old house.

I was alerted of one of Moore's feasts one afternoon when I had dropped in to his ABC Boys Club after I had gotten off from the school where I had a summer assignment.Archie asked me if I'd take a ride with him to C&M Meats in National City that was about a mile away so he could purchase an armload of steaks,chops,and of course chicken(his favorite bird so he could garnish everything with his secret BBQ sauce) and then we'd go to his house and drop off the oil skin wrapped packages.

I'd heard stories that Moore was a lead foot driver but that afternoon he headed all the stop signs and obeyed the posted speed limits.C&M meats was a little neighborhood market and when I followed Archie inside everyone was plenty glad to see him and vice versa. All were on a first name basis.

Archie threw his bash on a Saturday during the late afternoon. The cul de sac was cordoned off.It was shoulder to shoulder with everyone bringing something.There were little stands outside that the neighbors were offering fares like corn on the cob,red beans,fried okra,hot links,homemade ice cream,griddle cakes,and peach pies. Of course Archie took command of the meat department.

Everybody was familiar with everyone and little kids we there riding their bicycles and the women commiserated together like a flock of hens. The men wore their panamas and sat together chomping and yakking all trying to out lie each other.The sweet smoke from the grills wafted,the boom boxes sounded songs as mellow like Sam Cooke to the more thunderous soul of James Brown.All tastes were considered.Archie opened his doors to his backyard pool that was shaped like a boxing glove and the splashes mixed with the laughters.It was a beautiful open sky sunny day for a neighborhood black party.It was a beautiful day.

When I drove by the old red brick house the other day the mood was quiet'could say even a bit somber. There were no kids riding bicycles.There was no music. I wonder if even anyone around knew that that was the house where Archie Moore lived,or who he was, and threw those neighborhood block parties when the day was sunny and the sky open.


The old house today-a rendezvous for swingers.Love for sale.


A time when life was simpler and taken full measure.

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The Man Who Scared Joe Louis

When Max Schmeling knocked out Joe Louis and tagged him with his first loss there were those out there that believed that Herr Max had put the whammy on the Brown Bomber. If they were ever to meet Schmeling would duplicate the feat. One of these subscribers was Jack Dempsey.

Dempsey was a curious figure.He was a fighter of whose attack was locked a the gear of full steam ahead.There was nothing subtle in his advances.Yet he never put his title on the line against a black fighter. When Harry Wills emerged as the most competent challenger Dempsey's aggressive style eluded him at the negotiating table. The two sat down finally and signed a match but Dempsey backed out stating that the promoters balked on the money promised him up front. There would be no fight on Jack's end. The New York commission yanked his license and Dempsey then signed to meet Gene Tunney in Philly.After Dempsey called it quits ,after losing to Tunney in their second fight, there was still this question in people's minds that Dempsey had ducked Wills.Whether it was drawing the color line or just the thought that he couldn't beat Wills, there was a cloud over Jack's head.Dempsey tried to massage the issue by stating later that the only man he wouldn't fight was Sam Langford.Dempsey even went as far as to say he was always afraid of Sam.When Langford made his overture hat in hand to Dempsey for a title chance Sam was already half blind and hadn't beat Harry Wills in his last 9 tries. Hmm.

Dempsey never was on Louis' side when it came to fighting.Dempsey had fallen for Max Baer and took him under his wing.When Dempsey was in Maxie's corner for his comeback fight against Joe Louis(Baer had embarrassed himself losing to Jimmy Braddock prior).Jack had a clear vision of Baer on one knee looking up at Arthur Donovan waving ten fingers in his face counting him out.

Then when Schmeling upset the applecart putting Louis to sleep Dempsey must have breathed deeply.When Joe was on top with the championship after beating Jimmy Braddock he still had a score to settle with Schmeling.When the rematch was made, of course Dempsey picked the German to win. There was no doubt left in anyone's mind that Joe was gun shy of Max it was felt except in Harlem.But there was one guy Joe Louis was afraid of(and he would say it no tongue in cheek).That guy's name was Jack Blackburn,his trainer.

When John Roxborough and Julian Black,,Louis's mangers were wanting the right guy to train their prospect,they went to Mike Jacobs,the Garden's matchmaker,and said they had assigned the former colored fighter and hell raiser Blackburn to give the orders in the gym.All systems were "Go".

A quick look at Blackburn's resume showed that he fought in that era when Black fighters were getting the run around by the white establishment when it came to the boxing profession.Title shots were as rare as finding the Holy Grail yet taking a dive was as common as the cold.Blackburn was a part of that tragedy.

When looking back talking of the great colored fighters of that era, Blackburn would be mentioned in the same breath with Johnson,Langford,Barbados Joe,and Gans.However during Blackburn's run he was interrupted by a stint in the slammer.Seems he started a ruckus when he'd been drinking.It involved a woman who had jilted him over and her new boyfriend so Jack took out a pistol and straightened things out.In the process he put the ex and her new beau in the morgue.Jack went to jail for that one.

But he got his release in 4 years and went back into the ring.After retiring he became a trainer.He was a good one.He worked with Sammy Mandel who would wear a belt but since Blackburn was a negro his pickins' of the cream of the crop were left for the white handlers.But then along came Louis.

Roxborough and Black knew Blackburn was the right guy.He was rough and uncompromising but he knew fighting inside out and what Joe needed was a trainer wouldn't put up with no loafing and do what he was told. Blackburn fit the bill. Joe Louis obeyed and believed that not only would Blackburn take him to the top but that he would also have that tough love that he would have to implement from time to time.If he thought Joe was falling asleep Blackburn would take him in the room and lock the door. The tongue lashing would be followed by an ass whipping.

But Blackburn wasn't always the monster.That was only when he got drunk.He had to be careful. Blackburn really loved Joe Louis and Louis him.,They just had this odd way of showing it. They called each other "Chappie".It was father and son.

But Blackburn couldn't put down the bottle and that eventually led to another stint in jail and eventually took its toll on his health.While Louis was in the Army training for his fight with Abe Simon ,Jack Blackburn died from a heat attack in a hospital.


At the funeral they said that Joe was wiping the tears away from his eyes.Joe Louis never did show his emotions in public.This time he couldn't help himself.


"Chappie"

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Fighters who had Jack Blackburn for a trainer used to say if they neared the gym and heard him yelling and cussing they knew he had a snootful and would turn around and go home.

I know this is the Harlem Globetrotters theme song but when I hear it I can picture Jack Blackburn whistling it.

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Joe Louis Was A FIghting Man

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When Sarge Got Punched In The Nose

The name was changed.It used to be called Fort Benning.The base is in the deep south in Georgia.Now it's called Fort Moore.You know with all this Confederate Civil War stuff being renamed, especially anything named for a general.Benning was the name of a general for the South. Well, he got his name lopped off when they decided to try to erase the memory o what those rebels fought for.They wanted to break off from the U.S. proper because they thought eventually with all these new states coming in slavery would be done away with because they wouldn't have it. So when they ceded from the Union Abe Lincoln wouldn't stand for nothing like that happening on his watch and so the Civil War started.

If I was a black person today I'd say go ahead and changes all those names on the door. Fighting to preserve slavery is a sh--ty cause.Those names they glorified for so many years and made movies of and put their names on forts , fellas' like Bobby Lee and Jeb Stuart, are gone,at lest on the doors.. I ain't ,losing no sleep over it.

Getting back to Fort Benning(I guess you got to say Fort Moore now but I ain't gonna' worry about it because I don't use it much in discussion).Well, when I was a bug sprayer for the County Of Agriculture in San Diego and in charge of structural pest control-in other words a glorified bug sprayer-I got to know this good ol' boy who was stationed at Fort Benning during the start of the war. He told me once about the time Joe Louis was making his rounds to all the bases boxing exhibitions.Joe had joined up by then.

Well,when Louis showed up there was a big turnout. They would like to put him in the ring with some of the drill sergeants,This good ol' boy I got to know when I was working for the county told me about the time Louis sparred a round with his drill sergeant.All the boys in his platoon got a kick out of it when Joe decided o get a good one in.I think it was scripted that way-just one good whack on the nose. If there was any tension that loosened it. The fellas' got a laugh out of it.

Now don't get me wrong .This guy I was tellin' ya' about was a redneck and always was.He was from Iowa and they took him and all his friend in their National Guard unit together to Fort Benning when the war broke out.He told me it was the first time him and his friends had ever seen a black person.There were no blacks in his outfit.

Even though this guy would always be making fun of blacks saying that "all they like to do is sing and dance" I never heard him say anything bad about Joe Louis.He never said anything one way or the other.But I don't think that had to do with Louis smacking his drill sergeant in the nose..

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The Entertainer

My wife and I had been married just a few years.She'd neve been to Las Vegas before and I knew she'd get a kick out of it so I took her Growing up in that middle of nowhere pueblo in Mexico with the dirt roads and the houses with the dirt floors I figured she'd be impressed with all the lights and sparkles.

I booked a room at the Dunes.Now this was back in the mid 70's and the Dunes and all those landmark hotels on The Strip were still there.Later, they'd all be torn down to make way for all those mega theme hotels they have now.I've never stayed in one of those giants when I get the itch to go to Vegas. Me and the wife stay at Caesar's which is still there when I took her the first time.

Keely Smith had the biggest letters on the marquis outside The Dunes.I always thought she was underrated as a singer.When she was with Louie Prima she was sort of a combo backup/straight line gal for the dago.Once in a while he'd let her do a solo with Sam Butera and the band.She was very good.While gals like Sarah Vaughan,Peggy Lee, and Kay Starr worked alone ,Keely Smith was as good as any of those gal singers.

Well,my wife was floored with Vegas.I knew she would be. She was content to play the one armed bandits like most of the novices.I'm not much of a gambler.Never had the itch. You could find me at a cheap black jack table or a roulette wheel but most my time I was also in front of a slot machine.

Wc took in a show in the main room to watch Keely Smith. I impressed my wife the way I had approached the bell captain earlier in the day so we didn't have to wait in line to get seated for the show.

The Dunes was down the street from Caesars Palace and I knew that my wife would be awed by all the fountains outside so one afternoon we strolled up to the joint. My wife certainly was left speechless by those fountains.I told her about the daredevil motorcycle stuntman Evel Knievel and how he crashed landed his bike jumping over those statues and almost killed himself.

After getting an ear and eyeful of the statues we walked up the steps to go into the hotel.Well, standing on those steps wearing a ten gallon Stetson and a snappy yellow jumpsuit was an old familiar face-the old champ Joe Louis. It caught me by surprise, and without my camera.I knew he was one of those what they call "greeters" but I didn't know where. I paused and tried to explain to my wife who Joe Louis was.I could have talked all day and it still wouldn't have sunk in.

Holding my wife by the hand we approached the old champ.He was smiling ear to ear.He looked like he was having a ball saying hello and shaking hands with everybody that walked in. He may have always seemed shy at times and a bit uncomfortable but he wasn't like that standing outside when he was greeting the public.

There wasn't a lot of people that day walking up those steps.When I got to Joe he looked me in the eye and smiling like he didn't want me to just pass by.Hell, I wasn't gonna' just walk by pretending he was nothin'.I stopped and introduced myself and my wife.The first thing he said was that my wife was pretty but I couldn't let it go at that.I told him I was a big boxing fan and as a kid I saw him on TV when he fought Marciano.
"Rocky sure could hit hard," he said shaking his head a little.
Then he asked me by surprise who I thought was the best of the current fighters. I told him Ali.To my surprise again he agreed giving no explanation.

It was time when Louis was having some serious health problems. The word was that Sinatra was taking care of his bills and his salary along with Ash Resnick.I don't think Joe Louis ever paid for a drink,a meal,or a bet when he worked Caesars Palace.

The next day me and the wife walked back to Caesars but Joe wasn't there,at least not outside.I had bought my camera this time but never got a chance to take a picture of him. He was probably inside getting something to eat or shooting craps.

We went home the next day,I didn't win anything gambling but I sure was lucky to have met Joe Louis.



The statue that stands inside Caesars Palace today of Joe Louis

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Eddie's Times

Ken Norton and Joe Frazier were lucky to have Eddie Futch in the gym with them. Yank Durham who was with Joe Frazier from the start decided that he needed some further expertise on how to mold Joe into becoming the great champion he'd become in the future. So he asked his friend Eddie Futch if he wouldn't mind refining the finer points.There was no jealousy nor rivalry afterwards in their relationship.When the the dust settled Durham had no qualms abut asking Futch about how he could make Frazier even better than he was behaving in the ring.Eddie ,always the soft spoken individuakl,went ahead after getting the green light.

If you had to tell of Futch's main strength as a teacher it was his his relentless observations about sizing up the opposition.What did he he see in the other guy that could be taken advantage of.Then, after explaining the flaws to his fighter he'd devise a plan of attack.Futch would work meticulously until his man had the drill down.

Eddiie Futch was the first trainer to have two of his guys put Muhammad Ali in the loss column.Joe Frazier was the first.Ken Norton followed the feat. However ,their styles were different, but Futch didn't try to make Norton a copy of Frazier.Even though Eddie had both boys he took what they had in ability and shaped it in a way to beat Ali.

Joe Frazier was a relentless mover but he was still mostly a standup fighter when Eddie first got his hands on him,.When Oscar Bonavena belted Joe to the canvas twice in the same round one more fall to the canvas would have resulted the end of the fight according to the rules in New York. Futch needed to make Frazier, a short man,even shorter when fighting and to also display more head movement. Futch new that Ali wasn't able to move his pins like he could in the pre banishment days. So he now had a fighter in Frazier that could move Muhammad against the ropes and bang away at his body bringing Ali's guard down.When that happened Frazier would attack the head.The Fight Of The Century wasn't maybe a great fight but more a revelation that Ali could be taken.

Of the three fights Ali had with Norton and the three with Joe only the Thrilla' in Manila was a justified win on Ali's end. Futch didn't want Carlos Padilla reffing because he would let Ali get away with holding the back of the head and wouldn't separate Joe when he was in close.Before the start of the last round Frazier was in big trouble.His face was falling apart.He couidn't see.Futch said that he was thinking then of Frazier as a father.Futch would go to Joe's house and see him enjoying being with his wife and kids.It meant everything to him,Futch had no problem shutting down the fight because he didn't want Frazier to wind up with possible permanent damage

When Kenny Norton was matched with Ali in San Diego this was supposed to be a piece piece of cake,a tune up,before Muhammad would get his shot at George Foreman to bring justification to the heavyweight championship.But again Futch was working on a strategy.Futch knew that Ali now was fighting on the ropes.He'd let his opponent flail at the head but Ali would sag back on the strands and then counter and spin his man. .So here's what Futch countered with.When Norton had Ali against the ropes he'd counter Ali's lead jab with Norton throwing one of his own.Ali would raise his gloves.Then Norton would shoot to the body.Ali's hands now would drop, and then Norton would go to the head.The fight plodded along that way for 12 rounds with Ali winding up with a broken jaw and losing the decision. Ali blew the fight with Foreman but there would be more drama ahead. Two more fights resulted in the same action scenarios but then the judges got it wrong and gave Ali benefit of the win.

I'll end this up by retelling the time I got tricked into an early sparring session with Ken Norton down here in San Diego.Futch was with him at the gym. It was tough to find any decent sparring partners for Norton in San Diego.That's why Futch would bring Norton up to LA to workout with Joe Frazier.By this time Frazier was in his prime.Futch could read Norton progrss by seeing how well he could give Frazier a workout.

I was paling around with an amateur heavyweight by the name of Gary Young.He hadn't lost in 13 matches and was brought in to work with the just starting out Norton..When we got to the gym my pal told me that his shoulder was hurting and if I'd take his place.I couldn't refuse because I couldn't think fast enough to come up with an excuse of my own. When I got in the ring Norton looked a little peeved.Eddie Futch assumed I was the original pick and when he yelled start Norton shot up a left jab that busted my nose.Norton was taught by Futch to use his jab that way-hold the glove low with the shoulder turned to protect the jaw and then bring the glove up with the top of the knuckles finding home.Futch said he leaned that technique from watching Holman Williams.All of a sudden the jab came out of nowhere.

Well ,it didn't take a second for Eddie Futch to put a stop to this eventual slaughter.He didn't seem too pleased with the affair.He wanted Norton to get some quality work in and here I was bleeding to death.Futch pressed a towel to my face and told me to go to the showers. I don't think Norton ever sparred in Dan Diego again.

The next contact I had with Eddie Futch was the time Norton was training for Ali in San Diego.AfterAli sent everybody home after his halfhearted workouts Norton would arrive to do his thing with Futch and Boss Man Jones the sparring partner. I would hang around with the custodian to watch.We had the place to ourselves. I knew Norton slightly and I didn't know if Futch remembered that fiasco in San Diego.One thing was certain ,Eddie Futch didn't want me to be Norton's sparring partner and I didn't ask. That was fine with me.


Ken Norton

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The Promoters Fighter

If you owned a gym you were always getting calls form some promoter or matchmaker about who was available to round out a card. In San Diego Ronnie Wilson was a fighter who was called on to fill many a late night fight card.He was what they call a "promoter's fighter." He was always in the gym when he wasn't away someplace fighting so he was willing and able.

Ronnie was at the tail end of his career when he got the call to be an 11th hour sub to fight against English light heavyweight contender Chris Finnegan across the pond.It was a rush job.All expenses would be comped. but they needed Wilson's warm body.

Ronnie had had over a hundred fights by then.He believed he could beat Finnegan. It would be his chance to make things right again.

The fight wasn't publicized in San Diego.You had to be hanging around the gym to have caught wind of it.There was no TV broadcast in the States. I had to read about it in the paper the next day.On the back page of the sports section,in a little paragraph, I read where Ronnie had lost a decision.

When Ronnie blew back into town he was sore.He thought he got robbed over there-typical hometown decision. Many years later I had just about forgotten about it.Ronnie had hung em' up.He had moved back to his native Canada.The word was that he was down on his luck.He had health issues. No one had seen or heard from him in years.

Then a few years back someone emailed me an article about some tourist who had bumped into Ronnie living in a homeless park in Vancouver,Canada.The tourist became smitten.He sat with Ronnie while he told of his life.He said that he hadn't had contact with his family for years.He talked about how he got a bum rap in England fighting Finnegan.If he had won that fight things would have been different. There was a picture of Ronnie smiling ear to ear. I wouldn't have recognized him in a thousand years. He was all scraggly looking with a beard.He looked old but he looked happy.

Shortly after that article there was emailed an addendum.Ronnie had passed away.There was no cause stated. He had just died.It didn't say where.He mght have died in that park.

Who knows.Maybe if he had beaten Chris Finnegan things would have worked out differently.But that's one of the hazards about being a "promoter's fighter" and having to fight against odds.Seemed like Ronnie was always fighting.


Ronnie back in the day

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A Slum Is A Slum Is A Slum

Lou Stillman closed his gym in 1959. He said he wasn't getting the traffic like he did in the old days. He blamed it on that there weren't bad enough slums like before.Kids today were getting soft.They didn't want to train to be fighters. They wanted to go to school or play other sports that didn't require the sweat like boking and going to his gym.

Well, I don't know if he was on the mark with that excuse.I guess you could put something together that could validate Lou's take on the subject. I know that more kids were going on to college after graduating high school and playing on the university's various teams.Little kids were having dad join them up in Little League. Pop Warner Football would follow suit. The neighborhood basketball courts saw more kids were waiting on the benches saying "Got nexts."Was it because the slums didn't have as an odor?

Analyzing what Stillman had to say comes off as being rather crass. But Lou Stillman was never known for refinement.It was also reflected in the appearance of his gym. If Stillman wasn't cussing someone out and calling him a "spic" or a "n----r" you could spit on the floor and then light up a 5 cent cigar and fill the air with stink. If you wanted to use the facility for exercise you put up with the mold and grime and leaky showers. The dirt hadn't been swept up since the place opened its doors. The plaster was coming off the walls.Lou wouldn't open a window.If you complained, Lou would tell you to "go f--k yourself." He knew he was the boss ,and besides, he always had on gun on him.

Yeah,Lou walked away from all that in 1959. There just wasn't enough poverty like in the good 'ol days.

Years later Lou regretted the move. He said he felt lost. He couldn't tell anyone to go f--k himself anymore.He was no longer the boss.You could say that Lou had f--ked himself.

How dare anyone wanting to clean up their neighborhood.

[Alguiffer]

Great chapter on Stillman's Gym in the book Corner Men: Great Boxing Trainers" by R. K. Fried (1991). Chapter gives a great rundown on the gym operation and the antics and quirks of Stillman. Everybody had to pay $0.50 to enter the gym to watch - no matter who you were or how famous you were.
As always, greatly enjoy all your postings and material you share with us - look forward to your column each day - many thanks!

[dagosd2000]

Great chapter on Stillman's Gym in the book Corner Men: Great Boxing Trainers" by R. K. Fried (1991). Chapter gives a great rundown on the gym operation and the antics and quirks of Stillman. Everybody had to pay $0.50 to enter the gym to watch - no matter who you were or how famous you were.
As always, greatly enjoy all your postings and material you share with us - look forward to your column each day - many thanks!

Thank You.I've read Fried's book.It's a good one. Full of stories and quotes from those trainers who learned their trade there.Fried caught 'em at the right time before they passed way. There were some guys he had to acknowledge the sources because they had already passed on.Tomorrow I'll share what my father had to say about frequenting Stillman's when he was living with his uncle in Brooklyn.

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East Side/West Side

When my grandfather,Diamond Joe Esposito in March of 1928 was shot as he walking back from a union meeting a half block from his house, it threw the family into an instant upheaval. My father was 15 at the time.My grandmother went to Al Capone and wanted to know why it happened.Well,Al gave her the old salve-"it was an accident.It shouldn't have happened."

It wasn't long after that that Capone did the Italian thing of taking in my father to live with him.It was a show of sympathy I guess. Anyway, my father lived in Capone's house for about 2 years until Al's wife Mae said to him that my father would have to go because he was a bad influence on their son Al Jr. who everyone called Sonny.Imagine, my father who was a 15 year old kid having a bad influence on Al Capone's son?

When my father got the boot he went to live with his Uncle Chazz who lived in Brooklyn.His real name was Charles Marchese who was my grandmother's brother but everyone called him Chazz which is a nickname for Charles. Chazz wasn't what you'd call a shrinking violet. He had a wooden leg (took a shotgun blast in his knee so the docs sawed the leg off.I never got filled in on why he got shot)but that never held him back from trying anything except maybe going out for the Olympic long jump team.

Chazz was running the policy game for Lucky Luciano in Flatbush at the time when Luciano was getting strong in The 5 Families in New York. My father would go around picking up the 5 cent slips with the numbers on them and deliver them to his uncle.The Depression was taking off so everybody was playing the numbers for a nickel.

In the meantime Chazz was showing my father the ropes about getting into the rackets.For enjoyment they liked sports,not only to watch but to bet on.Chazz took him to Ebbets Field when the Cubbies were in town.That was my father's favorite team. They'd go to Yankee Stadium to watch the mighty Yankees.At that time there wasn't any superstar Italian baseball player. Tony Lazzerri was on the Yanks but he was in the same lineup with Ruth and Gehrig so you really couldn't make that big a fuss about him.Joe D didn't come along until 1936.By that time my father was back in Chicago.

His uncle also took my father to the fights-St, Nicks and The Garden.Stillman's Gym was close by and Chazz took my father along one day o show him the layout. My father said he wasn't impressed.He said he didn't see any good fighters, and besides, Stillman was a"A cheap Jew bastard."My father said all the good fighters went to Gleasons.Gleason was an Italian who had changed his name to Gleason so all the Italian fighters went there instead.But Gleason didn't open his gym until 1937 ,and when my father lived with his Uncle Chazz, Gleasons didn't exist.

When I think of boxing I can't help but think of the Jews,Italians,and the Blacks.Without them at that time there wouldn't have been any boxing.,at least in the U.S. I got to admit the white establishment didn't take to them but they were the heart and soul of the sport. Funny thing was, there was never a real harmony between them.

I think back on my father's life-having a father who was the first Italian racketeer to immigrate to America and was murdered in the street,living with Al Capone,belonging to the Chicago Outfit,and having a mother who was kicked out of the Catholic Women's Club for cheating at cards. Maybe he didn't have an Ozzie And Harriet upbringing.but he sure had a lot of good stories to tell.

My grandfather,Diamond Joe,on the left,my father,his little brother Charles,the babysitter,and my grandmother at my grandfather's joint The Bella Napoli. BTW. They didn't call Charles "Chazz".They called him Chuckie.

[scartissue]

Rog, I was thinking of you today when I was perusing boxrec's results page from last night and I saw a kid fighting in Monterrey named Jose Angel Napoles and he even carries the nickname 'Mantequillita'. I don't know the results of that fight - presumably still hasn't reached the ears of boxrec - but it made me think of something. Remember in the 70s, those Old Milwaukee beer commercials where a kid named Babe Ruth or Jack Dempsey arrives in the ballpark or at the gym for a tryout and is scoffed at? He proves them wrong, of course, and the point of the commercial is "When you've got a well-known name..." It always ends with the tagline, "It's a tough name to live up to." Hmmmm, 'Mantequillita' huh? Kid, you've got a tough hill to climb.

[dagosd2000]

The Dog And Pony Show

When these celebrity so to speak exhibitions between a former fighter, usually a former champ big name, against the combination mixed martial artist and social media personality gets more publicity than a legit fight between two legit fighters I'm ready to throw in the towel.When sideshow freaks like Jake Paul,Victor Belfort,or John Gotti the 3rd are in the limelight more than ranked contenders or champions it's time to put boxing in a circus tent instead of an arena.

My grandson flew to Florida from Arizona State University to watch the curiosity piece with Floyd Mayweather and Logan Paul the sibling of another hype, his bro Jake.
"I can tell people I got to see Floyd Mayweather,"boasted my grandson.
The first thing that ran through my mind was what a waste of money.

But I can't blame the participants ,especially the ex pugs. Hell, they'd get trounced if they went back to fighting for real. Besides,they make as much or even more money than before.You get to see a soft Floyd Mayweather and think you got your money's worth.

These dog and pony shows aren't even labeled an "exhibition." That would make it sound like it's a half asses effort.hey're not really trying.Sometimes it is and sometimes it ain't.The bottom line is that the former fighter is only a shell of what he once brought into the squared circle.He's as stale as poorhouse cake.

But these kind of things are nothing new.Jack Dempsey and Joe Louis put on the act but fans knew that it was a song and dance with a punch or two thrown in. They didn't go ape over it. The pre fight weigh was discarded.What difference does weight factor in ?

It's one thing to see Joe Louis with one leg hanging on the ropes with the back of his head on the ring fringe, but to see Evander Holyfield drop like a sack of wheat I could have done without that.Rocky Marciano did Joe in. Victor Belfort made Holy quit in a hurry.

But who would want to stop the dog and pony show? For the PPV audience and the people who fly from Arizona to Florida to say they saw Floyd Mayweather think they got the genuine article.

Trying to convince them otherwise would be an act of futility.When my grandson was telling me about his trip to Florida he was so exited that he almost ran out breath.I could feel my blood pressure dropping.THat's what the doctor ordered anyway..


Evander Holyfield

[dagosd2000]

Grandma

Remember that Little Rascals episode where all those waif kids used to hangout with that old lady they called "Grandma"who lived in that little house all by herself?She loved all those kids and they loved her because she didn't judge them and saw the good in all of them and that made them love her as if she was their real mother.

The old lady was as matronly looking as could be with her white hair and round face.She was still strong physically and mentally, and portly and wore glasses.She would put on the boxing gloves with those kids and they would hit her in the stomach and she'd hit them back. They were so small that they couldn't hurt her and she couldn't hurt them.

Well,when I used to go to the CREA Gym in Tijuana to watch my granddaughter's husband play basketball in the gymnasium I'd park my car in the lot next door to the CREA.Before entering the gymnasium there was this little shack that you'd have to walk by that was next to the parking lot.It looked like it might have been a newsstand at one time or a tool shed of some sorts.It had no windows,just a door. Inside this shack lived an old woman who reminded me of that "Grandma" character in that Little Rascals episode except she was Mexican and not portly but she had that white hair that she wore in a pigtail.She didn't wear glasses and she had no teeth and every time she talked she'd always be smiling and blinking her eyes.I don't think she ever took off that apron with all the food stains..Like the "Grandma" in that Little Rascals episode all the little street kids would hangout with her.

You'd always see a cat that was around all the time because she took it in like she did those kids. There was no electricity or running water in that shack so she'd cook on a little lena she set up and light the place with candles. Every time I passed that shack it was always noisy and al those kids would be running in and out.I never heard her say anything to those kids to make them behave a certain way or stop what they were doing.

When I parked my car in the lot I'd go up to that shack and give her a dollar and tell her to watch my car.I acted like she was the parking attendant even though she wasn't.All the neighborhood new her and made sure she had enough to get by..Like I said she was always smiling and seemed grateful.She had those kids and the cat and a statue of the Virgin.She had enough to make her happy.

One day I went to see the fighters work out at the CREA.I parked my car as usual in the lot.As I neared that shack I noticed a padlock on the door.I asked the security guard at the entrance of the boxing gym what happened.
"She died last week,"he said deliberately.
After a pregnant pause to regain my composure I asked him how she died.
"She died in her sleep," he said without emotion.
"Was everything taken care of?"
"Oh yes.The fighters all chipped in and everyone else."
"And the kids?"
"Well, I haven't seen them since she passed away."

[dagosd2000]

Posted this short from the Little Rascals called "Fly My Kite."See now that you can't view it on the forum.It's that story I was telling you about "Grandma. and the analogy I was making with my story about that old lady that passed away. in Tijuana.But if you log on to YouTube it shows.It's a classic

[scartissue]

Rog, I was thinking of you today when I was perusing boxrec's results page from last night and I saw a kid fighting in Monterrey named Jose Angel Napoles and he even carries the nickname 'Mantequillita'. I don't know the results of that fight - presumably still hasn't reached the ears of boxrec - but it made me think of something. Remember in the 70s, those Old Milwaukee beer commercials where a kid named Babe Ruth or Jack Dempsey arrives in the ballpark or at the gym for a tryout and is scoffed at? He proves them wrong, of course, and the point of the commercial is "When you've got a well-known name..." It always ends with the tagline, "It's a tough name to live up to." Hmmmm, 'Mantequillita' huh? Kid, you've got a tough hill to climb.

By the way, Rog, I just found the result from the other night. Mantequillita stopped his opponent in 7. Still got a long way to climb, but we'll be watching, kid.

[dagosd2000]

Rog, I was thinking of you today when I was perusing boxrec's results page from last night and I saw a kid fighting in Monterrey named Jose Angel Napoles and he even carries the nickname 'Mantequillita'. I don't know the results of that fight - presumably still hasn't reached the ears of boxrec - but it made me think of something. Remember in the 70s, those Old Milwaukee beer commercials where a kid named Babe Ruth or Jack Dempsey arrives in the ballpark or at the gym for a tryout and is scoffed at? He proves them wrong, of course, and the point of the commercial is "When you've got a well-known name..." It always ends with the tagline, "It's a tough name to live up to." Hmmmm, 'Mantequillita' huh? Kid, you've got a tough hill to climb.

By the way, Rog, I just found the result from the other night. Mantequillita stopped his opponent in 7. Still got a long way to climb, but we'll be watching, kid.

Yeah,we'll see maybe.I thought Napoles had a son who fought in Mexico as a light heavyweight. Can't find anyhing on him. This kid you mentioned I don't know if he's a relation or not. Search the archives on Boxrec and find all the Sam Langfords and Ray Robinsons,et al.Reminds me of that James Brown song,"Bewildered". when he says "lost in a dream."

[dagosd2000]

A Pale Imitation And Other Comments

Arturo Zuniga was a stablemate with Jose Napoles. I watched Zuniga fight on the undercard when Napoles defended his title against Hedgemon Lewis at The Forum in LA. Ruben Olivares also put his title on the line that night against Jesus Pimentel.

I had seen Zuniga fight once before on Mexican TV.They nicknamed him "Mulatto" because of his dark skin.He was from the state of Guerrero which is in the southwest part of Mexico where centuries ago negroes from Africa were brought over as slaves. Today,there are still some people from that region that have pure negro blood. That night at The Forum, Zuniga was to fight another Mexican ,Antonio Roldan. Both boys were undefeated.

You could tell immediately that Zuniga had been influenced by his elder boxing buddy,Jose ,the guy they called "Mantequilla".Zuniga's ring actions looked strongly familiar to the welterweight champion's.Zuniga was also a 147 pounder.As soon as the bell rang for the start of round ! Zuniga came out of his corner and began emulating Napoles' boxing actions.But it was kind of like a Rich Little impersonation. Close but no cigar.But Little was in it for a laugh. Zuniga wasn't trying to be funny but it made me smirk to see him go through the motions.He could try as he wanted to be like Jose but it was a pale imitation.

Zuniga won the decision yet It was a forgettable performance. After later losing his first contest he started a losing streak that eventually made him rethink his future and he retired.

I always think of a fighter's style with the batter who steps up to the plate in baseball. No two hitters have the same stance nor the same swing;same with boxing. A fighter has a basic feel and what he learns in fighting is how to contour his profile into an effective fighting force. Sometimes a trainer has to go through a lot of chisels before he's got the finished product. If Charley Goldman was around he'd tell ya' about all the chips Rocky Marciano left on the floor to become an undefeated champion.

Rocky Marciano was wise enough to quit when he was at his peak.If he had continued he probably would have won a few more but then Father Time would have finally put him in the loss column along with Sonny Liston or Floyd Patterson even though analyzing those two fellas' careers they don't stack up against The Rock.That's because they thought they could win just ne more time.It's boxing's unhappy ending for the lot.

Getting back to Napoles. When I saw him make Hedgemon Lewis fight just to last with him ,"Mantequilla " was at the top of his form. This was back in 1971. Four years down the road "Mantequilla's" butter had turned rancid. He was barely hanging on. Looking back on the demise you could attribute it to a lack of determined training and plain old getting older. His focus had developed cataracts.After John Stracey got off the deck in the 1st round against the old champ in Mexico City,Johnny Boy spread Jose all over the ring like a margarine substitute.Jose's face looked like scrambled eggs.

The line that separates Mexico and the United States is almost mystical in makeup. I sense the aura crossing south as soon as I step over. But it's not only the look or the language.it's nothing really physical that makes me feel I've walked into dream.I'm not like Dorothy in the Land Of Oz. It's a 180 mindset in a way.

Here in the U.S. I always get the impression that people are trying to cheat death or at least put it off. They want to stay 21 when their arteries are acting like 71. Mexicans want to continue to do what they like to do even though they have to work through the pain but they know that comes with the territory of growing old.They know that the cadaver is around the corner but when they come face to face with him they turn their fate over to a higher power. No one,how mighty,can avoid their mortality.

In the United States that fear of the inevitable drives people crazy.A tummy tuck here and a facelift there, Plastic surgeons in Tijuana have a huge clientele of gringas that come down looking for that Fountain Of Youth.

Also a dividing point is the Mexicans' way of looking at you.If you like to do it your way,whatever that is,go ahead. But then I may do it a different way and that's OK too.( I say tomato and you say tomata)Here in the U.S. you click on the internet and you get bombarded with people telling you how to live your life.It's a control issue like wanting to sidestep the grim reaper.Everyone wants to be an authority thinking it's going to make them happy. They're going about it backwards.Don't care if the other guy takes it in the ass.You can't change the world.

When I saw Jose Napoles in his twilight sitting outside his house in that rundown neighborhood in Ciudad Juarez puffing on a cigar and waving to everybody .he was happy. He didn't carp about how life dealt him a bad hand.He did it his way and no one second guessed hm.


Jose Napoles after the Stracey fight.Boxing goes on without me.

[scartissue]

A Pale Imitation And Other Comments

Arturo Zuniga was a stablemate with Jose Napoles. I watched Zuniga fight on the undercard when Napoles defended his title against Hedgemon Lewis at The Forum in LA. Ruben Olivares also put his title on the line that night against Jesus Pimentel.

I had seen Zuniga fight once before on Mexican TV.They nicknamed him "Mulatto" because of his dark skin.He was from the state of Guerrero which is in the southwest part of Mexico where centuries ago negroes from Africa were brought over as slaves. Today,there are still some people from that region that have pure negro blood. That night at The Forum, Zuniga was to fight another Mexican ,Antonio Roldan. Both boys were undefeated.

You could tell immediately that Zuniga had been influenced by his elder boxing buddy,Jose ,the guy they called "Mantequilla".Zuniga's ring actions looked strongly familiar to the welterweight champion's.Zuniga was also a 147 pounder.As soon as the bell rang for the start of round ! Zuniga came out of his corner and began emulating Napoles' boxing actions.But it was kind of like a Rich Little impersonation. Close but no cigar.But Little was in it for a laugh. Zuniga wasn't trying to be funny but it made me smirk to see him go through the motions.He could try as he wanted to be like Jose but it was a pale imitation.

Zuniga won the decision yet It was a forgettable performance. After later losing his first contest he started a losing streak that eventually made him rethink his future and he retired.

I always think of a fighter's style with the batter who steps up to the plate in baseball. No two hitters have the same stance nor the same swing;same with boxing. A fighter has a basic feel and what he learns in fighting is how to contour his profile into an effective fighting force. Sometimes a trainer has to go through a lot of chisels before he's got the finished product. If Charley Goldman was around he'd tell ya' about all the chips Rocky Marciano left on the floor to become an undefeated champion.

Rocky Marciano was wise enough to quit when he was at his peak.If he had continued he probably would have won a few more but then Father Time would have finally put him in the loss column along with Sonny Liston or Floyd Patterson even though analyzing those two fellas' careers they don't stack up against The Rock.That's because they thought they could win just ne more time.It's boxing's unhappy ending for the lot.

Getting back to Napoles. When I saw him make Hedgemon Lewis fight just to last with him ,"Mantequilla " was at the top of his form. This was back in 1971. Four years down the road "Mantequilla's" butter had turned rancid. He was barely hanging on. Looking back on the demise you could attribute it to a lack of determined training and plain old getting older. His focus had developed cataracts.After John Stracey got off the deck in the 1st round against the old champ in Mexico City,Johnny Boy spread Jose all over the ring like a margarine substitute.Jose's face looked like scrambled eggs.

The line that separates Mexico and the United States is almost mystical in makeup. I sense the aura crossing south as soon as I step over. But it's not only the look or the language.it's nothing really physical that makes me feel I've walked into dream.I'm not like Dorothy in the Land Of Oz. It's a 180 mindset in a way.

Here in the U.S. I always get the impression that people are trying to cheat death or at least put it off. They want to stay 21 when their arteries are acting like 71. Mexicans want to continue to do what they like to do even though they have to work through the pain but they know that comes with the territory of growing old.They know that the cadaver is around the corner but when they come face to face with him they turn their fate over to a higher power. No one,how mighty,can avoid their mortality.

In the United States that fear of the inevitable drives people crazy.A tummy tuck here and a facelift there, Plastic surgeons in Tijuana have a huge clientele of gringas that come down looking for that Fountain Of Youth.

Also a dividing point is the Mexicans' way of looking at you.If you like to do it your way,whatever that is,go ahead. But then I may do it a different way and that's OK too.( I say tomato and you say tomata)Here in the U.S. you click on the internet and you get bombarded with people telling you how to live your life.It's a control issue like wanting to sidestep the grim reaper.Everyone wants to be an authority thinking it's going to make them happy. They're going about it backwards.Don't care if the other guy takes it in the ass.You can't change the world.

When I saw Jose Napoles in his twilight sitting outside his house in that rundown neighborhood in Ciudad Juarez puffing on a cigar and waving to everybody .he was happy. He didn't carp about how life dealt him a bad hand.He did it his way and no one second guessed hm.


Jose Napoles after the Stracey fight.Boxing goes on without me.

Rog, I remember Arturo Zuniga and I saw that fight as well against Roldan. The first time I saw him fight he fought Bobby Jordan -who wasn't bad as I saw him beat Lobito Montoya in a good tussle - and as the fight was going on one could see very slowly Zuniga finding the range with a left hook. It picked up a bit until finally around the 4th (although boxrec says it was the 6th) he landed a left hook on the temple of Jordan, who suddenly just froze for a moment before crashing to the canvas. My Dad and I had our mouths open looking at one another. We thought, 'Wow!" The next time I saw him fight was the Roldan fight and although he won, I thought he went a bit left hook crazy. Maybe a bit of falling in love with his power rather than working on the fundamentals. Anyways, he held a few decent wins in his career (Ronnie Harris, Ruben Vasquez, Jose Palacios) but unfortunately, never went any further than winning the Mexican title. I hope Mantequillita takes note of this.

[dagosd2000]

Dan,Don't you think that Rodolfo Gonzalez had a similar style like Napoles'?