BoxRec

Rick Farris wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:QUE BARBARO

The first time he lost. The crowd knew it. The referee Berumen knew it. So did Sulieman. He gave the order to end it the way it did. And Mantequilla knew it. He was out of shape ,but he was in there with a hungry kid by the name of Armando Muniz.

Jose by that time did as little training as possible to get by. You'd see his genius. He'd win,but he wasn't pushin' it. Between the race track,his night club,his trumpet,and drinking late at night with Jose Alfredo,Jose Napoles had discarded the Spartan way of training.

However that night in Acapulco, that Muniz kid was kicking the shit out of him. He couldn't keep him off him. It was getting late and the Butter Man was melting. So Jose started swinging low. Figure Muniz would retaliate hitting below the border too,but Mando kept his cool. Do that and you lose on a DQ. So Sulieman sees his meal ticket waning and tells the ref to award Jose the winner on a foul anyway. It stunk. Even the aficanados knew it stunk.

They have to fight again. It's only fair. Right? This time the old master trains. He'll be in shape to catch him with hooks and uppercuts. His skill will determine victory. He'll train for this one. And the kid? He knows only one way. Put pressure on those old legs. But Mantequilla was his old self. It was the last time we'd see it.

I saw the rematch on the big screen in Tijuana at the auditorium. Jose looked fit. The definition showed. Mando pressed. Mantequilla used his craft expertly. Yes ,he was against the ropes,but he countered everything. After a few rounds began the blood.

Muniz knew the old man had him figured out this time around. He pressed like before hoping Jose would tire. They both fought for their lives. Napoles's eyes started to tear apart worse than ever,but so did Mando's. No DQ's tonight. Both guys were crimson. They were wearing their red badges of courage. It was all over the ring,the ringsiders,and we were bleeding with them. They were rocking each other. The announcer,the crowd,everyone watching the big screen was enthralled.
"Que barbaro!"
That was every other word from the mouths of the witnesses to this carnage.
"Que barbaro!"we were gasping.
Incredible. You want it to stop because you think one of them might get hurt seriously. Maybe die. But let it act out. Don't stop it. The conclusion must be seen. Painfull,but it must be seen to its conclusion.

The final bell. Both men standing impassively in the ring. Eyes shredded. Purple lumps on their faces.Lips torn apart. Blood matted on their chests. Sweat and blood everywhere. To watch them after 15 rounds of attrition stand silently. The blood trickling down their faces. They seemed at peace.At peace after all they had given to each other.
"Que barbaro!"*

"que barbaro" means "wow" in Spaniosh.

Roger . . . Armando Muniz will love this. He and I are supposed to talk by phone in the morning. I'll make sure he sees it.

-Rick Farris

With you and Mando at the helm for the WBHOF, it will be in great hands. Dan also has a part in it. Right? Class guys all three of you.

Hey Brian
Come out of your igloo and talk to us.

scartissue wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

Arthur Mercante & Mr. C.

Hey Scar . . . In your conversations with Ruben Navarro, did you discuss Mercante as the ref in his 1971 Lightweight title fight with champ Ken Buchanan? Curious what Navarro has to say today, exactly 38 years (2/12/71) after the match. I was in the dressing room with Navarro after the fight, and beforehand when Mercante gave him his instructions in the dressing room prior to the fight. I hadn't thought of that night in years . . .Navarro sitting on a table, Johnny & Julio Flores behind him. I was off to the side with a commissioner and a couple others. Mercante is cold, formidable, stoic . . . talks to Navarro in robotic monotone. The ref is standing right in fron of Ruben, hair combed to perfection, maybe some make-up? He stands at semi attention leaning forward, looking Navarro in the eyes, really making a show of it. He let the East L.A. boy know that he was going to be boss in the ring and to obey his commands.

I remember thinking to myself, "Navarro does what he wants, unorthodox or whatever, anything that scores and keeps him clean of unnecessary damage. Ruben will be his own boss and Buchanan better not let Ruben get on top of him or he's gunna slap the crap out of the Scot. Kenny was a greater fighter than credited for, but so was Ruben Navarro, and he was in no shape to challenge for a title. Still, he upended the Scot briefly, in the opening round, and made for a hard night for Buchanan.

-Rick Farris

Yeah, Rick, Ruben insisted that Mercante was Buchanan's Ref. He said Mercante began separating them and bending Ruben's arm in a manner that it wasn't supposed to bend. He said he told off Mercante in mid-ring. I wish I could see that fight. I actually have it but the version I have is so grainy it is worthless. Your opinion, Rick. Did the knockdown look legitimate?

Scartissue

Scar . . . I got my best look at it recently on DVD. It should have been scored a knockdown simply because Ruben had hit Ken before he went down, but I think it was more of a balance issue. However, on the night of February 12, 1971 there was one helluva lot of electricity buzzing thru the L.A. Sports Arena.

You had about a hundred Kilt wearing Scots who were drunk and ready to roll with anybody looking for a fight. The largely Latino crowd gave them a wide path. When the opening bell rang, I was back a way, maybe thirty rows, sitting next to my girlfriend, Dwight Hawkins and Mac Foster. I saw Buchanan hit the canvas, but wasn't focused on the ring clearly, it looked like Ruben had hit him, knocking him down. Of course, everybody jumps to their feet and by the bell, I was looking off to the side as this old Scot had a younger Scot in a headlock and was punching him in the face. Great action in the ring, but the best part of the show at that moment was the fights outside the ring.

It was something you'd expect to see at a Quarry family reunion.

-Rick Farris

dagosd2000 wrote:QUE BARBARO

The first time he lost. The crowd knew it. The referee Berumen knew it. So did Sulieman. He gave the order to end it the way it did. And Mantequilla knew it. He was out of shape ,but he was in there with a hungry kid by the name of Armando Muniz.

Jose by that time did as little training as possible to get by. You'd see his genius. He'd win,but he wasn't pushin' it. Between the race track,his night club,his trumpet,and drinking late at night with Jose Alfredo,Jose Napoles had discarded the Spartan way of training.

However that night in Acapulco, that Muniz kid was kicking the shit out of him. He couldn't keep him off him. It was getting late and the Butter Man was melting. So Jose started swinging low. Figure Muniz would retaliate hitting below the border too,but Mando kept his cool. Do that and you lose on a DQ. So Sulieman sees his meal ticket waning and tells the ref to award Jose the winner on a foul anyway. It stunk. Even the aficanados knew it stunk.

They have to fight again. It's only fair. Right? This time the old master trains. He'll be in shape to catch him with hooks and uppercuts. His skill will determine victory. He'll train for this one. And the kid? He knows only one way. Put pressure on those old legs. But Mantequilla was his old self. It was the last time we'd see it.

I saw the rematch on the big screen in Tijuana at the auditorium. Jose looked fit. The definition showed. Mando pressed. Mantequilla used his craft expertly. Yes ,he was against the ropes,but he countered everything. After a few rounds began the blood.

Muniz knew the old man had him figured out this time around. He pressed like before hoping Jose would tire. They both fought for their lives. Napoles's eyes started to tear apart worse than ever,but so did Mando's. No DQ's tonight. Both guys were crimson. They were wearing their red badges of courage. It was all over the ring,the ringsiders,and we were bleeding with them. They were rocking each other. The announcer,the crowd,everyone watching the big screen was enthralled.
"Que barbaro!"
That was every other word from the mouths of the witnesses to this carnage.
"Que barbaro!"we were gasping.
Incredible. You want it to stop because you think one of them might get hurt seriously. Maybe die. But let it act out. Don't stop it. The conclusion must be seen. Painfull,but it must be seen to its conclusion.

The final bell. Both men standing impassively in the ring. Eyes shredded. Purple welts all over their bodies.Lips torn apart. Blood matted on their chests. Sweat and blood everywhere. To watch them after 15 rounds of attrition stand silently. The blood trickling down their faces. They seemed at peace.At peace after all they had given to each other.
"Que barbaro!"*

"que barbaro" means "wow" in Spaniosh.

Excellent Rog! I posted this story on my website.

dagosd2000 wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:QUE BARBARO

The first time he lost. The crowd knew it. The referee Berumen knew it. So did Sulieman. He gave the order to end it the way it did. And Mantequilla knew it. He was out of shape ,but he was in there with a hungry kid by the name of Armando Muniz.

Jose by that time did as little training as possible to get by. You'd see his genius. He'd win,but he wasn't pushin' it. Between the race track,his night club,his trumpet,and drinking late at night with Jose Alfredo,Jose Napoles had discarded the Spartan way of training.

However that night in Acapulco, that Muniz kid was kicking the shit out of him. He couldn't keep him off him. It was getting late and the Butter Man was melting. So Jose started swinging low. Figure Muniz would retaliate hitting below the border too,but Mando kept his cool. Do that and you lose on a DQ. So Sulieman sees his meal ticket waning and tells the ref to award Jose the winner on a foul anyway. It stunk. Even the aficanados knew it stunk.

They have to fight again. It's only fair. Right? This time the old master trains. He'll be in shape to catch him with hooks and uppercuts. His skill will determine victory. He'll train for this one. And the kid? He knows only one way. Put pressure on those old legs. But Mantequilla was his old self. It was the last time we'd see it.

I saw the rematch on the big screen in Tijuana at the auditorium. Jose looked fit. The definition showed. Mando pressed. Mantequilla used his craft expertly. Yes ,he was against the ropes,but he countered everything. After a few rounds began the blood.

Muniz knew the old man had him figured out this time around. He pressed like before hoping Jose would tire. They both fought for their lives. Napoles's eyes started to tear apart worse than ever,but so did Mando's. No DQ's tonight. Both guys were crimson. They were wearing their red badges of courage. It was all over the ring,the ringsiders,and we were bleeding with them. They were rocking each other. The announcer,the crowd,everyone watching the big screen was enthralled.
"Que barbaro!"
That was every other word from the mouths of the witnesses to this carnage.
"Que barbaro!"we were gasping.
Incredible. You want it to stop because you think one of them might get hurt seriously. Maybe die. But let it act out. Don't stop it. The conclusion must be seen. Painfull,but it must be seen to its conclusion.

The final bell. Both men standing impassively in the ring. Eyes shredded. Purple lumps on their faces.Lips torn apart. Blood matted on their chests. Sweat and blood everywhere. To watch them after 15 rounds of attrition stand silently. The blood trickling down their faces. They seemed at peace.At peace after all they had given to each other.
"Que barbaro!"*

"que barbaro" means "wow" in Spaniosh.

Roger . . . Armando Muniz will love this. He and I are supposed to talk by phone in the morning. I'll make sure he sees it.

-Rick Farris

With you and Mando at the helm for the WBHOF, it will be in great hands. Dan also has a part in it. Right? Class guys all three of you.

Thanks, Roger. Yes, Dan Hanley is a part of the WBHOF, a bigger part than he lets on. Aside from being an honorary board member, Dan is also being appointed to the selection commitee.

-Rick Farris

dagosd2000 wrote:Hey Brian
Come out of your igloo and talk to us.

Im here Rog.Ive just been busy lately with the job and working out for some competitions.
Tonight I worked the Blackhawks - New York Rangers game.I just got home.
These hockey players are real good guys. You guys would like them.
Your painting that was selected by the museum is beautiful Rog.
I was literaly staring at it for a good while when I first saw it.
Ive said it before about your writing, and I will also say it about your painting.
I can feel it.

Rick, I remember TexCobb saying "if I discovered a cure for cancer, it wouldnt compare to driving Howard Cosell out of boxing".

Randyman wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:QUE BARBARO

The first time he lost. The crowd knew it. The referee Berumen knew it. So did Sulieman. He gave the order to end it the way it did. And Mantequilla knew it. He was out of shape ,but he was in there with a hungry kid by the name of Armando Muniz.

Jose by that time did as little training as possible to get by. You'd see his genius. He'd win,but he wasn't pushin' it. Between the race track,his night club,his trumpet,and drinking late at night with Jose Alfredo,Jose Napoles had discarded the Spartan way of training.

However that night in Acapulco, that Muniz kid was kicking the shit out of him. He couldn't keep him off him. It was getting late and the Butter Man was melting. So Jose started swinging low. Figure Muniz would retaliate hitting below the border too,but Mando kept his cool. Do that and you lose on a DQ. So Sulieman sees his meal ticket waning and tells the ref to award Jose the winner on a foul anyway. It stunk. Even the aficanados knew it stunk.

They have to fight again. It's only fair. Right? This time the old master trains. He'll be in shape to catch him with hooks and uppercuts. His skill will determine victory. He'll train for this one. And the kid? He knows only one way. Put pressure on those old legs. But Mantequilla was his old self. It was the last time we'd see it.

I saw the rematch on the big screen in Tijuana at the auditorium. Jose looked fit. The definition showed. Mando pressed. Mantequilla used his craft expertly. Yes ,he was against the ropes,but he countered everything. After a few rounds began the blood.

Muniz knew the old man had him figured out this time around. He pressed like before hoping Jose would tire. They both fought for their lives. Napoles's eyes started to tear apart worse than ever,but so did Mando's. No DQ's tonight. Both guys were crimson. They were wearing their red badges of courage. It was all over the ring,the ringsiders,and we were bleeding with them. They were rocking each other. The announcer,the crowd,everyone watching the big screen was enthralled.
"Que barbaro!"
That was every other word from the mouths of the witnesses to this carnage.
"Que barbaro!"we were gasping.
Incredible. You want it to stop because you think one of them might get hurt seriously. Maybe die. But let it act out. Don't stop it. The conclusion must be seen. Painfull,but it must be seen to its conclusion.

The final bell. Both men standing impassively in the ring. Eyes shredded. Purple welts all over their bodies.Lips torn apart. Blood matted on their chests. Sweat and blood everywhere. To watch them after 15 rounds of attrition stand silently. The blood trickling down their faces. They seemed at peace.At peace after all they had given to each other.
"Que barbaro!"*

"que barbaro" means "wow" in Spaniosh.

Excellent Rog! I posted this story on my website.

Thanks Randy
You know Napoles was my favorite fighter of all time. I saw the first fight on Mexican television. I could see my favorite fighter being second best in the ring that night. I kept thinking Jose was going to come up with something,but when he started to foul Mando I knew Jose's tank was running dry.

The second fight took everything else Jose had as a fighter out of him for good.His next fight against Stracey was humiliating. I know how you felt when Oscar lost against PacMan. I felt the same way after Jose lost his title to Stracey. Once in a while I'll look at the tape of that fight.

It still ends the same way. :(

Expug wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:Hey Brian
Come out of your igloo and talk to us.

Im here Rog.Ive just been busy lately with the job and working out for some competitions.
Tonight I worked the Blackhawks - New York Rangers game.I just got home.
These hockey players are real good guys. You guys would like them.
Your painting that was selected by the museum is beautiful Rog.
I was literaly staring at it for a good while when I first saw it.
Ive said it before about your writing, and I will also say it about your painting.
I can feel it.

Rick, I remember TexCobb saying "if I discovered a cure for cancer, it wouldnt compare to driving Howard Cosell out of boxing".

Thanks Brian
You know San Diego once had a World Hockey Team years ago. I was coaching my son in Little League. One of the kid's dads was on the hockey team. Well the dad invited the team to a game on his dime and then took us back to the locker room. The hockey players were the nicest bunch of fellas' I've ever met as a team. Too bad hockey never made it in sunny San Diego.

BTW,How's training going?

JUST IN PASSING

Saw the replay of B Hop and Pavlik. Second time I saw it. Yeh,Hopkins came out faster and was beating Kelly to the punch. Yeh,Kelly looked confused and awkward. The way Steward and Merchant were carrying on,it was like Hopkins fought this magnificant fight. Granted at 43,he was fit as a fiddle,but still it was mostly pitter patter. As for Kelly,he showed that he still has a lot to learn.

Just in passing,this fight won't go down in history as being one of the classics.

Can't sleep. That's why I'm here. I agree with all you guys. Howard Cosell was like the bad guy in wrestling. You watched him to see him lose. But how could you make Howard lose his mouth?

They talk about the good 'ol days of boxing. Cosell was the commentator on some the greatest fights in history,but for the life of me when there are aired again ,I either turn off the sound or tune to the weather channel.

AT NIGHT AT THE TACO STAND

It gets dark real hard in the little colonia were our house is in Jiquilpan. There's no bars or restaurants or fun centers. Maybe a little store on the corner. Real little. The people live in the back. A counter. A chair outside. Not much of a selection. Milk,tortillas,candy,sodas,a six pack of beer.

At six o'clock my niece and nephew open up their taco cart next to one of those little stores. They call them "aborrotes". My niece and nephew make these tacitos. Fry them up in the manteca. Chop up the pork real small. Dip the tortillas in the hot fat,scoop in the meat,and then put the cilantro,chiles,and onions on in. Fold it over,wrap it in wax paper and hand the tasty morsels out.

You can sit on a stool or stand up. People in the area walk slowly on the small crooked rocky dirt roads to their stand. A car or truck will stop. You can see the dust filtering through the light of the little stand. Those two do a pretty good business. Around midnight its over pretty much. They fold everything up and pack it away in the store. They operate six nights a week. They're closed on Mondays.

Their little cart glows in the dark. The white light bulbs hanging around the top. The Mexican music that you can hear coming from the radio inside the little store. The electric cord that runs inside to light up the lights. They use the a small propane tank for gas. It's all wrapped up and put away. Then they get in the truck and go home.

Sometimes at night I like to look from afar down the street at the taco stand. It has its own life. The only light in the neighborhood. Sometimes just looking at it from afar is almost as good as eating the tacos.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ziymJhC22ws

Dos Coronas De Mi Madre

Los Cadetes De Linares

kikibalt wrote:
Julio Cesar Chavez vs Jose Luis Ramirez

These two had a bizarre bet that whoever lost had to shave his head.

dagosd2000 wrote:
I had an exhibition in Jiquilpan a few years ago. It was well received. This kid comes up to me and says that I'm his favorite artist. That I'm his inspiration.

I asked him what he was holding in his hand. He said it was a landscape he had painted in his crafts class on Spanish tile. I took one look at it and fell over. The kid's name is Juanito. I asked him if I could take a picture of him with his painting. He asked my why. I told him I'm inspired by genius. I don't think it translated well.

Nice story.

Good morning Ben. Or should I say good afternoon? Would sure like to return to the "city" section of London to that little pub. The Cockpit. Two blocks down from St. Pauls. Good conversation. Regular people. The papers spread out on the tables. The old bull dog resting out front. No loud music. Just good conversation. The same crowd in there after work every day. No rowdy stuff. Like I said, just good conversation. Got to drink something cold though. Can't get used to the warm stuff. Cheers my friend.

kikibalt wrote:

Arthur Mercante & Mr. C.

Mercante is a pretty good ref overall and his son has done a decent job at following in his footsteps, which is never easy. He refereed a fight here a few years ago in which one fighter (Wayne Rigby) had had enough and let it be known to the other fighter (Michael Ayers), and they stopped the fight themselves. Mercante Jnr should really have stepped in but it doesn't rank as a really terrible piece of refereeing. OK, Mercante Jnr once allowed Razor Ruddock a free shot on Mike Dokes but when a referee did save Dokes against Riddick Bowe a couple of years later, he was berated by the heartless Dokes corner. Sometimes the referee just cannot win.

I think I can sleep now. The insomnia. A lot have it. Some take pills. Some drink. I've got the thread. It's much better this way. Good night.

dagosd2000 wrote:Good morning Ben. Or should I say good afternoon? Would sure like to return to the "city" section of London to that little pub. The Cockpit. Two blocks down from St. Pauls. Good conversation. Regular people. The papers spread out on the tables. The old bull dog resting out front. No loud music. Just good conversation. The same crowd in there after work every day. No rowdy stuff. Like I said, just good conversation. Got to drink something cold though. Can't get used to the warm stuff. Cheers my friend.

It's nine in the morning here, Rog. What time is it there? You ought to try Ireland, some time, for good conversation and good pubs.

dagosd2000 wrote:JUST IN PASSING

Saw the replay of B Hop and Pavlik. Second time I saw it. Yeh,Hopkins came out faster and was beating Kelly to the punch. Yeh,Kelly looked confused and awkward. The way Steward and Merchant were carrying on,it was like Hopkins fought this magnificant fight. Granted at 43,he was fit as a fiddle,but still it was mostly pitter patter. As for Kelly,he showed that he still has a lot to learn.

Just in passing,this fight won't go down in history as being one of the classics.

Y'know Rog, I never liked Hopkins. People would rave about him and I would see an ordinary fighter. I would never see anything exceptional that would make me say, "Wow, what a jab! What a great body puncher. What footwork." I especially despised his title defenses, who I thought were simply a forgettable lot. The defenses would pile up and leave people in awe of their numbers while I was screaming at the TV like an idiot, "They're nothing but bums!". I was always reminded of a quote from Danny Valdez who said, "Don't tell me how many fights you fought or how many KO's you have, show me who you fought and I'll tell you what kind of a fighter you are." Anyways, maybe I've mellowed towards Hopkins because I can give him credit for a few things these days. One of course is his amazing longevity and the incredible shape he can get himself into at 44. This is remarkable. Also, his main niche in the game and why he's been around as long as he has (besides the amazing lack of competition he's had throughout his middleweight reign) is his ability to slow a fight down to a snails pace. That's ring generalship if I've ever seen it. The only fighters who did not bite were the fighters who threw punches in bunches (Jones, Taylor twice and Calzaghe). Pavlik did not show a workrate, which is Hopkins' bane, he stood back looking to get in his power shots. Pavlik and his people have alot to learn because they got conned by a master-grifter. And I will give him credit for that.

Scartissue

dagosd2000 wrote:Can't sleep. That's why I'm here. I agree with all you guys. Howard Cosell was like the bad guy in wrestling. You watched him to see him lose. But how could you make Howard lose his mouth?

They talk about the good 'ol days of boxing. Cosell was the commentator on some the greatest fights in history,but for the life of me when there are aired again ,I either turn off the sound or tune to the weather channel.

Fighting a cold? Every bit of sleep counts

Even a little bit of sleep deprivation can keep your body from staving off the cold virus, a new study shows.

By Mary Engel

People who sleep less than seven hours a night appear to be almost three times as likely to catch a cold as those who sleep eight hours or more, a new study has found.

Quality of sleep may count even more than quantity. Those who spend as little as 25 minutes a night tossing and turning face more than five times the risk of sniffing and sneezing.

The age-old advice to get a good night's sleep is well-supported by medical research. Sleeping less than seven hours a night has been shown to increase the risk of high blood pressure, diabetes, weight gain and hardening of the arteries.

Studies have also found that serious sleep deprivation disrupts the immune system. But those were experimental studies that kept subjects up for most of the night, then measured their immune responses.

One of the surprising findings from the new study, published Monday in the journal Archives of Internal Medicine, was just how little it took to knock down defenses against the common cold.

"Very small disruptions in sleep, very small losses in terms of duration of sleep, were associated with pretty big increases in your probability of getting sick if you're exposed to a virus," said Sheldon Cohen, a professor of psychology at Carnegie Mellon University and the first author of the study. "It's not just insomniacs or people being deprived of sleep."

A team of researchers interviewed 153 healthy men and women each day for 14 days about the length and quality of their sleep the previous night. The 78 men and 75 women ranged in age from 21 to 55 years.

The volunteer participants were then sequestered in hotel rooms, exposed to a cold virus and observed for five days. Fifty-four of them came down with colds.

Controlling for numerous factors that can influence health -- including age, race, income, education, smoking, exercise and depression -- the study found that the longer and better participants slept, the better they were able to resist or fight off infection, Cohen said.

Sleep efficiency was defined as the percentage of time a person actually slept in the period between going to bed at night and getting up in the morning.

Participants with less than 92% efficiency were 5.5 times more likely to come down with a cold than those with 98% or more.

As for why this happens, Cohen believes that sleep disruption interferes with the immune system's ability to regulate itself.

The sniffling-and-sneezing symptoms of a cold are not the act of the virus itself but the result of your immune system's overly energetic response to the infection, Cohen said.

In the best-case scenario, your immune system would produce just enough pro-inflammatory cytokines to do the job.

"You want it to be able to turn itself off when it's supposed to," he said.

[email protected]

Randyman wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:Too bad and too sad when a fighter gets old. A sports team can keep going on and on, season after season. You can always see your favorite team, (name your sport) but when it's over for a fighter it's over for us to. Time to start looking again (that sounded mercenary).

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I know what you mean, Randy. I miss Duran, and Olivares, Mando Ramos. Things haven't been quite the same since they've been gone. How lucky we were to have been a part of that. I no longer look for others to equal what we had, it's not possible. There are still good fights and good fighters, but every generation boxing loses something. My era was truly great, but maybe not quite as much as the one before it?

-Rick Farris

Well, I think the generation before us was great. It was the WWII era. Our fathers grew up with the depression. It was hard times. I also believe that most of us believe the generation of our prime was the best. The 60's, 70's and most of the 80's produced some great fights and fighters. As we entered the 90's the overall quality of the fights started to deteriorate.Yes, there were exceptions but that's about the time the downward slide started. it's been sliding ever since. Thank God for memories, the guys on this site and youtube.

Randy [/quote]

Randy, I've read this post by you and Rick several times and I keep coming back to it. Y'know I've never been one of these guys who sat back forgetting the sport and saying, "Well, the fighters in my day...". However, you guys are right. The fighters from our youth really stick with us. Perhaps it was our youthfulness that got us excited with anticipation. I would get absolutely giddy when I would see a favorite of mine in the TV listings. Man, we're talking pacing during the instructions at the center of the ring. Not just as a kid but as an adult with my wife saying, "You've got to sit down!" The problem is, I haven't paced in awhile. I think I will be next week for Marquez-Diaz, two of my favorites these days, but it has been awhile. We have different generations of fight fans on this message board and I'm sure all of our favorites run different avenues, either by generation or geographically. I was a passive fan in the '60s as a kid, but went knee-deep into the sport in the early '70s. My favorites were Armando Muniz, Muhammad Ali, Rodolfo Gonzalez, Ruben Olivares and Victor Galindez. Obviously I wasn't seeing these guys live, being from the midwest, so I was a product of the TV era. Also, you couldn't pry me from the set if I was watching Bobby Chacon, Ray 'Windmill' White, Vito Antuofermo, Ken Buchanan, Antonio Cervantes, Gaby Canizales, Jerry Quarry or Oscar Bonavena. And don't even get me started on Rafael Herrera, Chucho Castillo, Bennie Briscoe or Halimi Gutierrez. There's a dozen or two more I could throw in but you get my drift. Hap and Frank's favorites would likely be completely different as probably would Bennie's with a hint of Britain and Europe thrown into the mix. The point I'm getting at is our favorites were something to embrace. And I want to feel that again.

Scartissue

James J Jeffries and his dog Jeff

James J. Jeffries

You guys remember Dick Lane? I'm sure you do...

Dick Lane (TV announcer)
From Wikipedia.

Richard Lane (May 28, 1899 – September 5, 1982), more commonly known as Dick Lane, was a television announcer and actor who made his mark broadcasting wrestling and roller derby shows on KTLA, mainly from the Grand Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles.

Early years
Lane was born in 1899 in Rice Lake, Wisconsin to a farm family. Early in life he developed talents for reciting poetry and doing various song-and-dance acts. By his teenage years, he was doing an "iron jaw" routine in circuses around Europe and worked as a drummer touring with a band in Australia. After the decline of Vaudeville, Lane obtained extensive work in motion pictures and was best known at the time for playing Inspector Farraday in some Boston Blackie features.

During World War II, he appeared as MC with USO troupes entertaining G.I's. His unit appeared at Ft. Mc Arthur in September 1944.

Lane also announced for the Jalopy Derby and Destruction Derby at Gardena Stadium.

Work with KTLA
Due to his work at Paramount Pictures, Lane was able to obtain work at KTLA, which was owned by the studio at the time. When the station went commercial for the first time in 1947, Lane started work as a news presenter. One of the early highlights of his career was to report on the first atomic explosion covered by a television newscast.

When KTLA agreed to broadcast wrestling matches from the Olympic Auditorium in 1946, Lane was hired to comment on the action. He started announcing for Roller Derby in 1951, and for Roller Games in the 1960s. His broadcasts featured such personalities as Gorgeous George, Mr. Moto (wrestler) and Doc Grable. Contrary to popular opinion, it was Lane and not former ABC sports announcer Keith Jackson who coined the exclamatory expression "Whoa, Nellie!" when something "bad" happened in the ring or on the track.[1] Lane was also the character "Leather Britches" on the Spade Colley show on KTLA.

Later Years
After Lane retired from television full time in 1972, he accepted few offers for work, but did make a notable cameo appearance in Raquel Welch's film Kansas City Bomber. Lane died in Newport Beach, California on September 5, 1982.