Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Posted: 07 Feb 2009, 04:45
Gary Carr and the great Henry Armstrong . . .
In late 1966, I was 14, and training one afternoon mid-week at the Main Street Gym. My grandfather pointed at a young lightweight who was sparring with my stablemate, Ruben Navarro. The lightweight was Gary Carr, and he was preparing for his first pro bout. Carr and Ruben had a good workout and the following year would meet in a six rounder, which Navarro would win.
As I watched the two fighters climb out of the ring, my grandfather points to Carr's trainer. The guy appeared to be in his 50's, and he had on an old blue sweater with holes in the elbows. As the boxer pounded the heavy bag, the trainer would watch from the side, a towel slung over his shoulder. My grandfather asked me, "don't you know who that is?"
I didn't recognize him, I was paying attention to the boxer, not the old trainer in the ratty sweater. "Who is he?" I asked. My grandfather informed me that the old trainer was the great Henry Armstrong. Suddenly, nobody else existed in the gym as far as I was concerned. I certainly knew who Armstrong was, and now I couldn't take my eyes off of him. My dad stopped by the gym, a moment later, on his way home from work. After Henry Armstrong had finished working with his boxer, my grandfather took a Polaroid pic of Armstrong with my dad and I. I still have the photo, and will try to post it here.
You never knew who you might meet at the Main Street Gym on any given day.
-Rick Farris
In late 1966, I was 14, and training one afternoon mid-week at the Main Street Gym. My grandfather pointed at a young lightweight who was sparring with my stablemate, Ruben Navarro. The lightweight was Gary Carr, and he was preparing for his first pro bout. Carr and Ruben had a good workout and the following year would meet in a six rounder, which Navarro would win.
As I watched the two fighters climb out of the ring, my grandfather points to Carr's trainer. The guy appeared to be in his 50's, and he had on an old blue sweater with holes in the elbows. As the boxer pounded the heavy bag, the trainer would watch from the side, a towel slung over his shoulder. My grandfather asked me, "don't you know who that is?"
I didn't recognize him, I was paying attention to the boxer, not the old trainer in the ratty sweater. "Who is he?" I asked. My grandfather informed me that the old trainer was the great Henry Armstrong. Suddenly, nobody else existed in the gym as far as I was concerned. I certainly knew who Armstrong was, and now I couldn't take my eyes off of him. My dad stopped by the gym, a moment later, on his way home from work. After Henry Armstrong had finished working with his boxer, my grandfather took a Polaroid pic of Armstrong with my dad and I. I still have the photo, and will try to post it here.
You never knew who you might meet at the Main Street Gym on any given day.
-Rick Farris



