Classic American West Coast Boxing

[Rick Farris]

Ken Buchanan

Buchanan . . .

One right after another. How do you do it, Roger?
By the way, your art got a very nice compliment today from John Bardelli.
You can translate more thru a painted expression than others can do with a dictionary full of words, or an album full of photographs.
Brilliant. Just brilliant!


-Rick Farris

[raylawpc]

To quote Dirty Harry Callahan: "A man's got to know his limitations."

Sometimes it's best not to give "limitations" too much power.

-Rick Farris

[dagosd2000]

HOW TO KEEP FROM TALKIN'

My father's favorite fighter was Carmen Basilio. Carmen was Italian and a Marine in World War II. That was more than enough to pass my father's listhmus test. I remember when Carmen beat Tony DeMarco.My father was screamin' for Carmen to kill him. It wasn't like DeMarco wasn't a dago. It was the Marine in Carmen that got my father's vote. My dad was at Pelilieu and Okinawa in the Big One. Only 3000 Marines were in both those battles. I don't know ,but DMarc probably wasn't a Leatherneck. Neither was Marciano. Now if those two guys were fighting a non spaghetti eater ,it would have been different with the old man I'm sure.

I'm pretty much on the side of the goombas,but not like my dad was. When Billy Backus won the title from Jose Napoles on a cut I was down in the dumps. Jose knew he was in Billy's back yard and before Napoles could put the hurt on Backus they stepped in and the title changed hands.

The rematch was in L.A. and i was pretty confident Mantequilla would put the crown back on his head before the night was over. Jose got cut seconds into the fight,but when Dick Young called the doc over to look at Backus after 8 rounds they might have inspected Jose's gloves for containing razor blades.

The replay of the fight was on TV the following week. I wanted my father to watch the great Mantequilla in action. He obliged. I had told him that Napoles won the fight and we were going to watch the replay. My father asked me who was Napoles fighting. When I said he was fighting an Italian by the name of Billy Backus who was trained by his uncle Carmen Basilio,my father astonished me by saying that Backus was going to win.
"Carmen wouldn't take on a fighter who was going to lose."
Maybe my dad was losing his hearing.
"This is a relay. Backus loses."
"Naw,you watch . Any fighter handled by Basilio is gonna' win. You watch."

Well we're watchin' and I'm thinking what is my father going to say when he sees Backus get pulverized. After Billy was on the seat of his pants for the second time and the ref and the doctor halt it,I look over to my father.
"Well son, wouldn't a nice salami sandwich on Italian bread taste good right now?"

What the hell? My father knew I wouldn't be saying nothing with a salami sandwich in my mouth.

[bennie]

Ken Buchanan recently (circa 2006).

Another pix of Ken w/ Steve Collins in 2008:



And with Collins and Jimmy Clyne at the same event:

Oh, he is wearing glasses. Ray, you would make a great lawyer.

[bennie]

Bennie, I think he fought Mark Kaylor also.
Did you happen to see that fight?

I'm afraid I didn't, Expug, but again Mark Kaylor was one of our best, most dangerous fighters - a real lunatic.
Randy also came over with a USA amateur team to Gloucester in 1981 and was outscored by England's talented Steve Johnson.

Bennie, I was subscribing to Boxing News at the time of the Kaylor-Errol Christie fight. Was there bad blood between these two or was it spur of the moment stuff? What was the cause of that melee before the fight?

Scartissue

Kaylor was getting egged on by one of his scummy West Ham supporters and was dishing out the verbals and it just went over the line. Christie had fought a succession of stiffs up to then and was not really used to the hype thing. They were fined heavily by the Board

[bennie]

Bennie, Ive heard that Randy passed away, but I have no details on it.
His is a story that has played out so many times in boxing history.He had a ton of talent and was a tremendously decorated amateur . He won the Golden Gloves several times, maybe even the Nationals also.
All the talent in the world but for some reason, early on , someone decided he was an opponent type and he was sent all over the world fighting in other guys backyards. Always fighting the hometown favorite. Always expected to go the distance and test the prospect but not expected to upset the prospect.Im not saying he got robbed all the time.Just that with some better management and someone looking out for him, he would definitely have been a contendor.He should have been more than a journeyman .

Brian, were you with us in the lobby when we met up with Leeroy Murphy? I asked him then about Randy Smith and it was he who told me Randy died about 15 years ago, which seemed to coincide with about his last fight. I remember when he and Murphy were amateur teammates. It was almost assured that the annual GG's middleweight champ was going to be Randy Smith and Murphy at lt. heavy. The two were nationally ranked also. But Smith never had Murphy's punch. He could smack a bit but never had the kind of power that could turn 9 rounds of despair into a 10th round victory, like Murphy had. Still, I thought there was going to be more from him but he soon became journeyman. A sort of modern day Tiger Jones or Angel Robinson Garcia. He would box, shimmy, grab and always go the distance with his defense and remarkable jaw in the other fighter's hometown. There were 2 other nationally ranked amateurs from Chicago that never made that next rung and that was Jake Torrance, who also became a journeyman. And Howard Stewart who was a pure bruiser but signed up with some group in Philadelphia who 'transformed' his style. Suddenly I'm hearing about Howard 'Lil Slick' Stewart. "Lil Slick"?! What did they do to him?

Scartissue

Funny, I was reading a report in an old Boxing News the other day and I happened to scour a Randy Smith report against one of our lads (I can't remember exactly who). The reporter was saying how beautifully Randy picked his punches, including some lovely right uppercuts, but that he fought only in spurts.

[kikibalt]

[kikibalt]

Tony Olivera with Co-Manager Joe Herman to his right patiently
awaits the arrival of his opponent Speedy Dado.

February 28, 1940, Oakland Auditorium
Oakland, California

[bennie]

Just to add to the Kaylor-Christie brawl, Dan, they came nose to nose during the verbals and that's when it exloded. Ironically, Christie got the better of Kaylor, pinning him to the ground, Christie on top (sounds a bit kinky).
Christie should have been a great fighter but he was matched too softly, then got done in one round by a Belgian light-heavyweight (which was put down to the weight difference), and they only went and matched him all the softer. Take a look at his succession of easy wins prior to Kaylor. It is pathetic. He just wasn't ready for a genuine hard man who could drag him into the later rounds.

[kikibalt]

.Sounds good. From San Diego,what time should I get started to be there at 9? Taking the wife and Adam and Amanda.Rog

I would say no later then 7:30 AM, its a nice drive up the I-15, I forgot to say that they also have a train ride for the kids.

[Expug]

Guys, I just got a very nice e-mail from Jeff Flanagan, the son of Glen Flanagan. He saw our conversations on the Flanagan brothers and e-mailed me to thank me. I have invited him on to our little sewing circle in order to share any memories he has. I hope he takes me up on it.

Scartissue

Dan . . . I gotta PM from Jeff Flanagan, as well. I hopes he joins us. He introduced himself to me at a WBHOF banquet. His dad was inducted a few years back. What a great boxing legacy his family has.

-Rick Farris

I did as well.
It would be great to have him jump in here.

[Expug]

Bennie, Ive heard that Randy passed away, but I have no details on it.
His is a story that has played out so many times in boxing history.He had a ton of talent and was a tremendously decorated amateur . He won the Golden Gloves several times, maybe even the Nationals also.
All the talent in the world but for some reason, early on , someone decided he was an opponent type and he was sent all over the world fighting in other guys backyards. Always fighting the hometown favorite. Always expected to go the distance and test the prospect but not expected to upset the prospect.Im not saying he got robbed all the time.Just that with some better management and someone looking out for him, he would definitely have been a contendor.He should have been more than a journeyman .

Brian, were you with us in the lobby when we met up with Leeroy Murphy? I asked him then about Randy Smith and it was he who told me Randy died about 15 years ago, which seemed to coincide with about his last fight. I remember when he and Murphy were amateur teammates. It was almost assured that the annual GG's middleweight champ was going to be Randy Smith and Murphy at lt. heavy. The two were nationally ranked also. But Smith never had Murphy's punch. He could smack a bit but never had the kind of power that could turn 9 rounds of despair into a 10th round victory, like Murphy had. Still, I thought there was going to be more from him but he soon became journeyman. A sort of modern day Tiger Jones or Angel Robinson Garcia. He would box, shimmy, grab and always go the distance with his defense and remarkable jaw in the other fighter's hometown. There were 2 other nationally ranked amateurs from Chicago that never made that next rung and that was Jake Torrance, who also became a journeyman. And Howard Stewart who was a pure bruiser but signed up with some group in Philadelphia who 'transformed' his style. Suddenly I'm hearing about Howard 'Lil Slick' Stewart. "Lil Slick"?! What did they do to him?

Scartissue

Thanks Dan.
I knew you would remember Randy.As Imentioned he trained at The Fuller Park gym and so did I.
We sparred all the time. I remember landing a huge right hand on him one time and he just laughed. I couldnt believe it.
Randy was not a puncher at all though. I used to drive him home after workouts sometimes. He lived in the projects over by 35th and the Ryan. I used to kid him about hurrying up and getting showered and changed and out of the gym so the sun wouldnt set on my ass by his neighborhood.
Another tremendous amateur of that time who everyone thought was gonna be a great pro was Wayne Lynum. Maybe he stayed amateur too long.

[Expug]

HOW TO KEEP FROM TALKIN'

My father's favorite fighter was Carmen Basilio. Carmen was Italian and a Marine in World War II. That was more than enough to pass my father's listhmus test. I remember when Carmen beat Tony DeMarco.My father was screamin' for Carmen to kill him. It wasn't like DeMarco wasn't a dago. It was the Marine in Carmen that got my father's vote. My dad was at Pelilieu and Okinawa in the Big One. Only 3000 Marines were in both those battles. I don't know ,but DMarc probably wasn't a Leatherneck. Neither was Marciano. Now if those two guys were fighting a non spaghetti eater ,it would have been different with the old man I'm sure.

I'm pretty much on the side of the goombas,but not like my dad was. When Billy Backus won the title from Jose Napoles on a cut I was down in the dumps. Jose knew he was in Billy's back yard and before Napoles could put the hurt on Backus they stepped in and the title changed hands.

The rematch was in L.A. and i was pretty confident Mantequilla would put the crown back on his head before the night was over. Jose got cut seconds into the fight,but when Dick Young called the doc over to look at Backus after 8 rounds they might have inspected Jose's gloves for containing razor blades.

The replay of the fight was on TV the following week. I wanted my father to watch the great Mantequilla in action. He obliged. I had told him that Napoles won the fight and we were going to watch the replay. My father asked me who was Napoles fighting. When I said he was fighting an Italian by the name of Billy Backus who was trained by his uncle Carmen Basilio,my father astonished me by saying that Backus was going to win.
"Carmen wouldn't take on a fighter who was going to lose."
Maybe my dad was losing his hearing.
"This is a relay. Backus loses."
"Naw,you watch . Any fighter handled by Basilio is gonna' win. You watch."

Well we're watchin' and I'm thinking what is my father going to say when he sees Backus get pulverized. After Billy was on the seat of his pants for the second time and the ref and the doctor halt it,I look over to my father.
"Well son, wouldn't a nice salami sandwich on Italian bread taste good right now?"

What the hell? My father knew I wouldn't be saying nothing with a salami sandwich in my mouth.

Great stuff Rog.
As partial to the Italian fighters as your Dad was, my Grandfather was the same with the Irishmen.
If he was around now, Im sure he would find a replay of the first Louis -Conn fight and watch it everyday thinking that somehow Billy managed to win that thing.

[raylawpc]

The nominees for this year's "Contractor of the Year" Award:

[Rick Farris]

HOW TO KEEP FROM TALKIN'



My father's favorite fighter was Carmen Basilio. Carmen was Italian and a Marine in World War II. That was more than enough to pass my father's listhmus test. I remember when Carmen beat Tony DeMarco.My father was screamin' for Carmen to kill him. It wasn't like DeMarco wasn't a dago. It was the Marine in Carmen that got my father's vote. My dad was at Pelilieu and Okinawa in the Big One. Only 3000 Marines were in both those battles. I don't know ,but DMarc probably wasn't a Leatherneck. Neither was Marciano. Now if those two guys were fighting a non spaghetti eater ,it would have been different with the old man I'm sure.

I'm pretty much on the side of the goombas,but not like my dad was. When Billy Backus won the title from Jose Napoles on a cut I was down in the dumps. Jose knew he was in Billy's back yard and before Napoles could put the hurt on Backus they stepped in and the title changed hands.

The rematch was in L.A. and i was pretty confident Mantequilla would put the crown back on his head before the night was over. Jose got cut seconds into the fight,but when Dick Young called the doc over to look at Backus after 8 rounds they might have inspected Jose's gloves for containing razor blades.

The replay of the fight was on TV the following week. I wanted my father to watch the great Mantequilla in action. He obliged. I had told him that Napoles won the fight and we were going to watch the replay. My father asked me who was Napoles fighting. When I said he was fighting an Italian by the name of Billy Backus who was trained by his uncle Carmen Basilio,my father astonished me by saying that Backus was going to win.
"Carmen wouldn't take on a fighter who was going to lose."
Maybe my dad was losing his hearing.
"This is a relay. Backus loses."
"Naw,you watch . Any fighter handled by Basilio is gonna' win. You watch."

Well we're watchin' and I'm thinking what is my father going to say when he sees Backus get pulverized. After Billy was on the seat of his pants for the second time and the ref and the doctor halt it,I look over to my father.
"Well son, wouldn't a nice salami sandwich on Italian bread taste good right now?"

What the hell? My father knew I wouldn't be saying nothing with a salami sandwich in my mouth.

The Onion Farmer . . .

Roger . . . You and your dad saw a lot more of the second Napoles-Backus bout than I did.
I was in the dressing room, cleaning up after winning a prelim. I heard ring announcer, Jeff Temkin, do the introductions.

As usual for all Parnassus promotions, there was a strong contingent from below the border to watch Napoles, and couple Mexican fighters on the card, including flyweight Halimi Gutierrez.

I won a close one, tough fight, maybe got a gift, my first fight under Suey Welch. No record of this fight on Boxrec despite my posting validation of the match.
Those things really don't matter to me anymore. I took my time, knowing Napoles was going to castrate Billy Backus.
I'm visiting with a friend who had no interest in the Napoles match, next thing I know it's over.
You could hear the crowd explode each time Napoles would land, or send Backus to the deck.

It's a strange reality below the crowd, tucked away in the dressing room area. It's like a world below the world. As I leave the dressing room area with my friends, I see Billy Backus being wisked thru the crowd and right past where I was standing. I could see that Napoles had just done a number on him, he was beat up and battered.

I really had no interest in Billy Backus. In my opinion, he didn't belong in the same ring with Napoles, despite what happened in upstate New York.
Carmen Basileo? That's a different story.

When I was about seven, I remember my uncle visiting the house and recall how he was excited over a fight he'd just seen a couple nights earlier.
His favorite fighter, Art Aragon, had just taken a major ass-whipping from the "Onion Farmer".
Basileo did a number on Art, like Napoles would do to his nephew a dozen years later.
I didn't care about seeing Napoles, or Backus or anybody else on the card . . . I wanted to meet Carmen Basileo.
My uncle was in the crowd that night, but he was in seat ringside when I finally got to shake one of the hands that put Art Aragon out of business.
He wasn't an excitable guy, seemed a bit put off with all the noise and nonsense, but when I introduced myself to him he looked me in the eyes quickly, and said, "Good fight, son."

That made my night. I guess he's slipped out of the dressing room and saw some of the prelims.
Acknowledged by Carmen Basileo, even if it was a close fight, made my night. I found my uncle and father at their seats, told them I'd met Basileo.

My uncle's eyes got big when I said I shook the Onion Farmer's hand.
It was like a memory of twelve years previous returned to haunt him. "Did I ever tell you I saw him fight Art Aragon?" he asked.
He remembered his favorite Aragon story, about what Art said to his trainer Benny Conyers when Bennie told him that Basileo couldn't hit him.
Aragon answered Conyers, "Well, you better keep your eye on the ref because somebody's kicking the crap out of me!"

I think I heard my uncle tell that story everytime I saw him. He loved Art Aragon, but that Onion Farmer was the roughest S.O.B. he'd ever seen.


-Rick Farris

[Expug]

Great stories about Carmen Basilio guys.
We need more guys around like Carmen nowadays.Ive never had the honor of meeting him . Rick, you had to be thrilled having him tell you "good fight".Basilio seems like the absolute definition of a no bullshit straight shooter.Carmens a guy who can forever hold his head high.Marine, champion in two divisions, fought the best,showed up in every fight giving it 100 percent.The guy is a man.
In the ring, it seemed like if you hit Carmen with four shots in a row, hed make it a point to hit you back with five.Although, I think he was a little better defensively then he was given credit for. He rolled with alot of those punches.
One of my favorite Basilio moments was when he was getting interviewed by song and dance man Howard Cosell.
Howard told Carmen,"Carmen , 11 sportwriters pick Robinson to beat you. What do you have to say?"
Carmen told him, "11 of em are wrong".

[kikibalt]

HOW TO KEEP FROM TALKIN'



My father's favorite fighter was Carmen Basilio. Carmen was Italian and a Marine in World War II. That was more than enough to pass my father's listhmus test. I remember when Carmen beat Tony DeMarco.My father was screamin' for Carmen to kill him. It wasn't like DeMarco wasn't a dago. It was the Marine in Carmen that got my father's vote. My dad was at Pelilieu and Okinawa in the Big One. Only 3000 Marines were in both those battles. I don't know ,but DMarc probably wasn't a Leatherneck. Neither was Marciano. Now if those two guys were fighting a non spaghetti eater ,it would have been different with the old man I'm sure.

I'm pretty much on the side of the goombas,but not like my dad was. When Billy Backus won the title from Jose Napoles on a cut I was down in the dumps. Jose knew he was in Billy's back yard and before Napoles could put the hurt on Backus they stepped in and the title changed hands.

The rematch was in L.A. and i was pretty confident Mantequilla would put the crown back on his head before the night was over. Jose got cut seconds into the fight,but when Dick Young called the doc over to look at Backus after 8 rounds they might have inspected Jose's gloves for containing razor blades.

The replay of the fight was on TV the following week. I wanted my father to watch the great Mantequilla in action. He obliged. I had told him that Napoles won the fight and we were going to watch the replay. My father asked me who was Napoles fighting. When I said he was fighting an Italian by the name of Billy Backus who was trained by his uncle Carmen Basilio,my father astonished me by saying that Backus was going to win.
"Carmen wouldn't take on a fighter who was going to lose."
Maybe my dad was losing his hearing.
"This is a relay. Backus loses."
"Naw,you watch . Any fighter handled by Basilio is gonna' win. You watch."

Well we're watchin' and I'm thinking what is my father going to say when he sees Backus get pulverized. After Billy was on the seat of his pants for the second time and the ref and the doctor halt it,I look over to my father.
"Well son, wouldn't a nice salami sandwich on Italian bread taste good right now?"

What the hell? My father knew I wouldn't be saying nothing with a salami sandwich in my mouth.

The Onion Farmer . . .

Roger . . . You and your dad saw a lot more of the second Napoles-Backus bout than I did.
I was in the dressing room, cleaning up after winning a prelim. I heard ring announcer, Jeff Temkin, do the introductions.

As usual for all Parnassus promotions, there was a strong contingent from below the border to watch Napoles, and couple Mexican fighters on the card, including flyweight Halimi Gutierrez.

I won a close one, tough fight, maybe got a gift, my first fight under Suey Welch. No record of this fight on Boxrec despite my posting validation of the match.
Those things really don't matter to me anymore. I took my time, knowing Napoles was going to castrate Billy Backus.
I'm visiting with a friend who had no interest in the Napoles match, next thing I know it's over.
You could hear the crowd explode each time Napoles would land, or send Backus to the deck.

It's a strange reality below the crowd, tucked away in the dressing room area. It's like a world below the world. As I leave the dressing room area with my friends, I see Billy Backus being wisked thru the crowd and right past where I was standing. I could see that Napoles had just done a number on him, he was beat up and battered.

I really had no interest in Billy Backus. In my opinion, he didn't belong in the same ring with Napoles, despite what happened in upstate New York.
Carmen Basileo? That's a different story.

When I was about seven, I remember my uncle visiting the house and recall how he was excited over a fight he'd just seen a couple nights earlier.
His favorite fighter, Art Aragon, had just taken a major ass-whipping from the "Onion Farmer".
Basileo did a number on Art like Napoles would do to his nephew a dozen years later.
I didn't care about seeing Napoles, or Backus or anybody else on the card . . . I wanted to meet Carmen Basileo.
My uncle was in the crowd that night, but he was in seat ringside when I finally got to shake one of the hands that put Art Aragon out of business.
He wasn't an excitable guy, seemed a bit put off with all the noise and nonsense, but when I introduced myself to him he looked me in the eyes quickly, and said, "Good fight, son."

That made my night. I guess he's slipped out of the dressing room and saw some of the prelims.
Acknowledged by Carmen Basileo, even if it was a close fight, made my night. I found my uncle and father at their seats, told them I'd met Basileo.

My uncle's eyes got big when I said I shook the Onion Farmer's hand.
It was like a memory of twelve years previous returned to haunt him. "Did I ever tell you I saw him fight Art Aragon?" he asked.
He remembered his favorite Aragon story, about what Art said to his trainer Benny Conyers when Bennie told him that Basileo couldn't hit him.
Aragon answered Conyers, "Well, you better keep your eye on the ref because somebody's kicking the crap out of me!"

I think I heard my uncle tell that story everytime I saw him. He loved Art Aragon, but that Onion Farmer was the roughest S.O.B. he'd ever seen.


-Rick Farris

I was at the Aragon/Basliio fight that summer nite

Art "Golden Boy" Aragon vs Carmen Basilio

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jV0nmcY3mPc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6FIGO1LrHc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_inM-n9j6-A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RqEhPQmbF6U

[Rick Farris]

Great stories about Carmen Basilio guys.
We need more guys around like Carmen nowadays.Ive never had the honor of meeting him . Rick, you had to be thrilled having him tell you "good fight".Basilio seems like the absolute definition of a no bullshit straight shooter.Carmens a guy who can forever hold his head high.Marine, champion in two divisions, fought the best,showed up in every fight giving it 100 percent.The guy is a man.
In the ring, it seemed like if you hit Carmen with four shots in a row, hed make it a point to hit you back with five.Although, I think he was a little better defensively then he was given credit for. He rolled with alot of those punches.
One of my favorite Basilio moments was when he was getting interviewed by song and dance man Howard Cosell.
Howard told Carmen,"Carmen , 11 sportwriters pick Robinson to beat you. What do you have to say?"
Carmen told him, "11 of em are wrong".

I agree, Brian. Wouldn't be great if we had a few guys like Carmen Basileo today.
I like Carmen's one-liners better than I do Aragon's.

-Rick Farris

[Expug]

HOW TO KEEP FROM TALKIN'



My father's favorite fighter was Carmen Basilio. Carmen was Italian and a Marine in World War II. That was more than enough to pass my father's listhmus test. I remember when Carmen beat Tony DeMarco.My father was screamin' for Carmen to kill him. It wasn't like DeMarco wasn't a dago. It was the Marine in Carmen that got my father's vote. My dad was at Pelilieu and Okinawa in the Big One. Only 3000 Marines were in both those battles. I don't know ,but DMarc probably wasn't a Leatherneck. Neither was Marciano. Now if those two guys were fighting a non spaghetti eater ,it would have been different with the old man I'm sure.

I'm pretty much on the side of the goombas,but not like my dad was. When Billy Backus won the title from Jose Napoles on a cut I was down in the dumps. Jose knew he was in Billy's back yard and before Napoles could put the hurt on Backus they stepped in and the title changed hands.

The rematch was in L.A. and i was pretty confident Mantequilla would put the crown back on his head before the night was over. Jose got cut seconds into the fight,but when Dick Young called the doc over to look at Backus after 8 rounds they might have inspected Jose's gloves for containing razor blades.

The replay of the fight was on TV the following week. I wanted my father to watch the great Mantequilla in action. He obliged. I had told him that Napoles won the fight and we were going to watch the replay. My father asked me who was Napoles fighting. When I said he was fighting an Italian by the name of Billy Backus who was trained by his uncle Carmen Basilio,my father astonished me by saying that Backus was going to win.
"Carmen wouldn't take on a fighter who was going to lose."
Maybe my dad was losing his hearing.
"This is a relay. Backus loses."
"Naw,you watch . Any fighter handled by Basilio is gonna' win. You watch."

Well we're watchin' and I'm thinking what is my father going to say when he sees Backus get pulverized. After Billy was on the seat of his pants for the second time and the ref and the doctor halt it,I look over to my father.
"Well son, wouldn't a nice salami sandwich on Italian bread taste good right now?"

What the hell? My father knew I wouldn't be saying nothing with a salami sandwich in my mouth.

The Onion Farmer . . .

Roger . . . You and your dad saw a lot more of the second Napoles-Backus bout than I did.
I was in the dressing room, cleaning up after winning a prelim. I heard ring announcer, Jeff Temkin, do the introductions.

As usual for all Parnassus promotions, there was a strong contingent from below the border to watch Napoles, and couple Mexican fighters on the card, including flyweight Halimi Gutierrez.

I won a close one, tough fight, maybe got a gift, my first fight under Suey Welch. No record of this fight on Boxrec despite my posting validation of the match.
Those things really don't matter to me anymore. I took my time, knowing Napoles was going to castrate Billy Backus.
I'm visiting with a friend who had no interest in the Napoles match, next thing I know it's over.
You could hear the crowd explode each time Napoles would land, or send Backus to the deck.

It's a strange reality below the crowd, tucked away in the dressing room area. It's like a world below the world. As I leave the dressing room area with my friends, I see Billy Backus being wisked thru the crowd and right past where I was standing. I could see that Napoles had just done a number on him, he was beat up and battered.

I really had no interest in Billy Backus. In my opinion, he didn't belong in the same ring with Napoles, despite what happened in upstate New York.
Carmen Basileo? That's a different story.

When I was about seven, I remember my uncle visiting the house and recall how he was excited over a fight he'd just seen a couple nights earlier.
His favorite fighter, Art Aragon, had just taken a major ass-whipping from the "Onion Farmer".
Basileo did a number on Art like Napoles would do to his nephew a dozen years later.
I didn't care about seeing Napoles, or Backus or anybody else on the card . . . I wanted to meet Carmen Basileo.
My uncle was in the crowd that night, but he was in seat ringside when I finally got to shake one of the hands that put Art Aragon out of business.
He wasn't an excitable guy, seemed a bit put off with all the noise and nonsense, but when I introduced myself to him he looked me in the eyes quickly, and said, "Good fight, son."

That made my night. I guess he's slipped out of the dressing room and saw some of the prelims.
Acknowledged by Carmen Basileo, even if it was a close fight, made my night. I found my uncle and father at their seats, told them I'd met Basileo.

My uncle's eyes got big when I said I shook the Onion Farmer's hand.
It was like a memory of twelve years previous returned to haunt him. "Did I ever tell you I saw him fight Art Aragon?" he asked.
He remembered his favorite Aragon story, about what Art said to his trainer Benny Conyers when Bennie told him that Basileo couldn't hit him.
Aragon answered Conyers, "Well, you better keep your eye on the ref because somebody's kicking the crap out of me!"

I think I heard my uncle tell that story everytime I saw him. He loved Art Aragon, but that Onion Farmer was the roughest S.O.B. he'd ever seen.


-Rick Farris

I was at the Aragon/Basliio fight that summer nite

Art "Golden Boy" Aragon vs Carmen Basilio

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jV0nmcY3mPc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6FIGO1LrHc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_inM-n9j6-A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RqEhPQmbF6U

Art just took too many shots. He hung in there and made a good accounting of himself.Carmen was just too much.
In watching Carmen, his coonditioning is always outstanding. Seems like he can go all day.
He also had that accurate short right hand.He gave Tony Demarco hell with that also.

[Dongee]

On Aragon vs Basilio:

The people in power should have known what to expect from that match. Basilio was simply a larger, stronger version of Vince Martinez, who had given Artie a severe whacking about four years earlier, also outdoors. I was there for that one, too.

hap navarro

[kikibalt]

Tepito: The Wild Neighborhood that Spawned Great Boxers
By Ted Sares

The gringos have always beaten us in everything else, but not in boxing… ---Cesar Bazan Perez

….being Mexican is a privilege, but being from Tepito is a gift of God. - Motto used by Tepito neighbors

Tepito has learned to recycle stigmas, like the label of criminality, and make them over into a kind of collective charisma. But it goes beyond that: the so-called barrio bravo has grown resistant to anti-barrio viruses by maintaining its own ways of organizing work, its own daily rhythms, and even its own urban dialect ii Alfonso Hernández

Many consider Tepito a dangerous place to visit. It is deep in the core of Mexico City with an enormous street market that operates six days a week and sells many illegal items. It is often referred to as the "el barrio bravo de Tepito," (which roughly translated means: "the Wild Neighborhood of Tepito"). It is a soulful place where innocents and hard working people coexist with criminals.

This infamous, albeit often misunderstood place where many prominent Mexican boxers have been born is perhaps best known for being home to dangerous gangs and criminals. It is bordered by streets on which children ride bikes with walkie-talkies and cell phones ready to alert gang leaders that suspicious looking types have entered Yet, as someone once said, bad things happen everywhere and there is no one place where bad things happen every moment of every day. So, while respect should always be paid to the reputation of a locale, a locale should never be judged on reputation alone. Indeed, and not unlike La Lagunilla (another great Mexico City market area), my many visits to Tepito have been both enjoyable and safe ones even though poverty, corruption and violence are daily realities.

There is still a boxing gym where young men spar with each other, but for all practical purposes boxing is little more than a memory. Back in the day, however, there were several boxers who fought their way out of Tepito to respect throughout Latin America and far beyond. Here are just a few:

llanueva Paramo a.k.a. Kid Azteca (1930-1961)

This immortal welterweight ended his long career with an astonishing mark of 156-44-8 that spanned four decades. And he fought at the top level without a gap. From 1953 until he retired in 1961, he fought 27 times. Even more incredible is that he lived until 2002 when he died at age 88. Unlike many great fighters who stay on too long, The Kid went undefeated in 26 of his last 27 fights.

Raul “El Raton” Macias (1953-1962)

The super popular El Raton started his amateur career reportedly at age fourteen, winning several national titles. Known by the nickname “Mouse,” the 5-foot-3 ½-inch Macías won the vacant bantamweight title over Chamrern Songkitrat of Thailand in 1955. He successfully defended the title twice before losing it before 20,060 fans to French-Algerian Alphonse Halimi, on a controversial split decision in 1957. Amazingly, he once filled Mexico City’s bullfighting ring where 50,000 adoring fans saw him defeat Nate Brooks in 1954 for the North American title. The Mouse had become Mexico’s top sports hero.

He was a “thinking man's fighter” who could win in many ways and beat many notables. In only his seventh pro outing, he outpointed veteran Galvan who had an amazing 83-28-5 record.

After a remarkable post boxing career in which he went 41-2, he passed away on March 23, 2009 in Mexico City. Considered by many as Mexico's first boxing "idol," his death was mourned throughout the country and a day of national mourning was declared. He had been inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1994.

Jose “Huitlacoche” Medel (1955-1974)

The “best fight the best,” and for fighting everyone and anybody and remaining competitive in the process, I am partial to the great Mexican bantamweights of the 50s and 60s. In particular, I liked Jose “El Huitlacoche” Medel who fought from 1955 to 1974 and finished with an active record of 69-31-8 with 44 ko's. Fittingly, his last fight was against future Super Bantamweight champion Royal Kobayashi in Tokyo.

“El Huitlacoche” was never a world champion, but he met the very best of his era's flyweights and bantamweights. In the tradition of ring warriors from Tepito, he never backed down from a tough opponent; he was one rugged customer as reflected by his deceptive final record of 69-31-8.

Rubén “El Púas” Olivares (1965-1988)

This legendary KO artist and multiple world champion finished with a remarkable 88 -13 1 record with 77 KO wins and a KO percentage of 74.04. Among his victims were such powerhouses as Bobby Chacon, "Chucho" Castillo, Jose Luis Ramirez, Lionel Rose, the aforementioned Medel, Jesus Pimentel, Kid Pascualito, and Efren Torres. In all, he won the World WBC and WBA Featherweight Championships and the WBC and WBA Bantamweight World Titles as well.

He went undefeated in his first 61 bouts (60-0-1) until losing to “Chucho” Castillo. This was during a time when such greats as Castillo, Chacon, Medel, Pimentel, and Danny “Little Red” Lopez were doing their thing; it was a grand time for boxing in Mexico and on the West Coast.

Considered by many as the greatest bantamweight champion of all time, he was inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1985 and the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1991. He also is number 12 on Ring Magazine's list of 100 greatest punchers of all time.

Octavio “Famoso” Gomez (1966-1977)

“Famoso” was a bit of a globe trotter and often would fight in his opponent’s home town. Like Medel. his level of his opposition was off the charts and included such great as Katsuyoshi Takayama whom he beat in only his seventh bout), Olivares, Efren Torres, “Kid” Pascualito, fellow Tepito native Rodolfo Martinez, Alfredo Marcano, Art Hafey, Rafael Herrera, and “Little Red” Lopez. He won his last five bouts and ended up with an old school record of 58-19-5. But he was more than an old school veteran; he was a tough son of Tepito who was willing to duke with the best and more than held his own.

Carlos “Caña” Zarate (1970-1988)

Nothing defines this bomber’s career more that what happened when he iced Alfonso Zamora in four sizzling rounds on a hot California night at the Forum on April 23, 1977. Zarate was 46-0 with an astounding 45 KO victories. His opponent and slight favorite was 28-0 record with 28 consecutive knockouts. That’s an amazing combined ring record of 74 wins with 73 wins coming by knockout. These were two guys who could send their opponents into zzzzzzzz’s at any time in a fight.

Zarate’s great career as a boxer/puncher was distinguished in many ways including being the only fighter to put together two streaks of 20 or more KOs wins in a row. The bomber is also on Ring Magazine’s list of 100 greatest punchers as number 21.

With an astounding final mark of 66 (KO 63)-4 (KO2) and an eye popping KO percentage of 90, “Caña” was 50-0 when he lost his first fight to the great Wilfredo Gomez (21-0-1 at the time). After losing a highly controversial decision to Lupe Pintor, he retired for seven years but came back in 1986 and won twelve straight before losing a TD to Jeff Fenech in Australia. Curiously, three of his four losses came at the hands of future Hall of Fame inductees. Zarate himself was inducted into the Hall 1994 and the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1996.

Rodolfo Martinez (1965-1979)

This Tepiteño fought his first 22 bouts in Mexico City before losing by MD to Rafael Herrera in a bid for the vacant NABF bantamweight title. He then won seven straight and was 35-1-1 when he again fought Herrera in 1973 with the vacant WBC bantamweight title at stake. This time, he would be stopped in 12 in a classic battle in which both warriors hit the deck.

He finally caught up with Herrera in 1974 and TKOd him in four to capture the WBC bantamweight title. He defended his title four times before losing it to Zarate in 1976. After losing his Mexico bantamweight title to Roberto “Kid” Rubaldino, he bounced back with his last great win, a seventh round TKO over undefeated Mike Ayala in Mike’s home town of San Antonio. He retired in 1979 with a tally of 44-7-1 and an equally impressive KO percentage of 67.32.

There are many other Tepiteños who made their mark in the ring (including the great Marco Antonio Barrera), but when one thinks of El barrio bravo de Tepito, the names of “El Raton,” “El Púas,” “Caña, “Huitlacoche,” “Famoso” and “Kid Azteca” over shadow everything else. These hard men embodied the nature of Tepito from the ‘50s through the ‘80s. After all, boxing and Tepito were synonymous back in the day.

[Rick Farris]

Tepito: The Wild Neighborhood that Spawned Great Boxers
By Ted Sares

The gringos have always beaten us in everything else, but not in boxing… ---Cesar Bazan Perez

….being Mexican is a privilege, but being from Tepito is a gift of God. - Motto used by Tepito neighbors

Tepito has learned to recycle stigmas, like the label of criminality, and make them over into a kind of collective charisma. But it goes beyond that: the so-called barrio bravo has grown resistant to anti-barrio viruses by maintaining its own ways of organizing work, its own daily rhythms, and even its own urban dialect ii Alfonso Hernández

Many consider Tepito a dangerous place to visit. It is deep in the core of Mexico City with an enormous street market that operates six days a week and sells many illegal items. It is often referred to as the "el barrio bravo de Tepito," (which roughly translated means: "the Wild Neighborhood of Tepito"). It is a soulful place where innocents and hard working people coexist with criminals.

This infamous, albeit often misunderstood place where many prominent Mexican boxers have been born is perhaps best known for being home to dangerous gangs and criminals. It is bordered by streets on which children ride bikes with walkie-talkies and cell phones ready to alert gang leaders that suspicious looking types have entered Yet, as someone once said, bad things happen everywhere and there is no one place where bad things happen every moment of every day. So, while respect should always be paid to the reputation of a locale, a locale should never be judged on reputation alone. Indeed, and not unlike La Lagunilla (another great Mexico City market area), my many visits to Tepito have been both enjoyable and safe ones even though poverty, corruption and violence are daily realities.

There is still a boxing gym where young men spar with each other, but for all practical purposes boxing is little more than a memory. Back in the day, however, there were several boxers who fought their way out of Tepito to respect throughout Latin America and far beyond. Here are just a few:

llanueva Paramo a.k.a. Kid Azteca (1930-1961)

This immortal welterweight ended his long career with an astonishing mark of 156-44-8 that spanned four decades. And he fought at the top level without a gap. From 1953 until he retired in 1961, he fought 27 times. Even more incredible is that he lived until 2002 when he died at age 88. Unlike many great fighters who stay on too long, The Kid went undefeated in 26 of his last 27 fights.

Raul “El Raton” Macias (1953-1962)

The super popular El Raton started his amateur career reportedly at age fourteen, winning several national titles. Known by the nickname “Mouse,” the 5-foot-3 ½-inch Macías won the vacant bantamweight title over Chamrern Songkitrat of Thailand in 1955. He successfully defended the title twice before losing it before 20,060 fans to French-Algerian Alphonse Halimi, on a controversial split decision in 1957. Amazingly, he once filled Mexico City’s bullfighting ring where 50,000 adoring fans saw him defeat Nate Brooks in 1954 for the North American title. The Mouse had become Mexico’s top sports hero.

He was a “thinking man's fighter” who could win in many ways and beat many notables. In only his seventh pro outing, he outpointed veteran Galvan who had an amazing 83-28-5 record.

After a remarkable post boxing career in which he went 41-2, he passed away on March 23, 2009 in Mexico City. Considered by many as Mexico's first boxing "idol," his death was mourned throughout the country and a day of national mourning was declared. He had been inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1994.

Jose “Huitlacoche” Medel (1955-1974)

The “best fight the best,” and for fighting everyone and anybody and remaining competitive in the process, I am partial to the great Mexican bantamweights of the 50s and 60s. In particular, I liked Jose “El Huitlacoche” Medel who fought from 1955 to 1974 and finished with an active record of 69-31-8 with 44 ko's. Fittingly, his last fight was against future Super Bantamweight champion Royal Kobayashi in Tokyo.

“El Huitlacoche” was never a world champion, but he met the very best of his era's flyweights and bantamweights. In the tradition of ring warriors from Tepito, he never backed down from a tough opponent; he was one rugged customer as reflected by his deceptive final record of 69-31-8.

Rubén “El Púas” Olivares (1965-1988)

This legendary KO artist and multiple world champion finished with a remarkable 88 -13 1 record with 77 KO wins and a KO percentage of 74.04. Among his victims were such powerhouses as Bobby Chacon, "Chucho" Castillo, Jose Luis Ramirez, Lionel Rose, the aforementioned Medel, Jesus Pimentel, Kid Pascualito, and Efren Torres. In all, he won the World WBC and WBA Featherweight Championships and the WBC and WBA Bantamweight World Titles as well.

He went undefeated in his first 61 bouts (60-0-1) until losing to “Chucho” Castillo. This was during a time when such greats as Castillo, Chacon, Medel, Pimentel, and Danny “Little Red” Lopez were doing their thing; it was a grand time for boxing in Mexico and on the West Coast.

Considered by many as the greatest bantamweight champion of all time, he was inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1985 and the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1991. He also is number 12 on Ring Magazine's list of 100 greatest punchers of all time.

Octavio “Famoso” Gomez (1966-1977)

“Famoso” was a bit of a globe trotter and often would fight in his opponent’s home town. Like Medel. his level of his opposition was off the charts and included such great as Katsuyoshi Takayama whom he beat in only his seventh bout), Olivares, Efren Torres, “Kid” Pascualito, fellow Tepito native Rodolfo Martinez, Alfredo Marcano, Art Hafey, Rafael Herrera, and “Little Red” Lopez. He won his last five bouts and ended up with an old school record of 58-19-5. But he was more than an old school veteran; he was a tough son of Tepito who was willing to duke with the best and more than held his own.

Carlos “Caña” Zarate (1970-1988)

Nothing defines this bomber’s career more that what happened when he iced Alfonso Zamora in four sizzling rounds on a hot California night at the Forum on April 23, 1977. Zarate was 46-0 with an astounding 45 KO victories. His opponent and slight favorite was 28-0 record with 28 consecutive knockouts. That’s an amazing combined ring record of 74 wins with 73 wins coming by knockout. These were two guys who could send their opponents into zzzzzzzz’s at any time in a fight.

Zarate’s great career as a boxer/puncher was distinguished in many ways including being the only fighter to put together two streaks of 20 or more KOs wins in a row. The bomber is also on Ring Magazine’s list of 100 greatest punchers as number 21.

With an astounding final mark of 66 (KO 63)-4 (KO2) and an eye popping KO percentage of 90, “Caña” was 50-0 when he lost his first fight to the great Wilfredo Gomez (21-0-1 at the time). After losing a highly controversial decision to Lupe Pintor, he retired for seven years but came back in 1986 and won twelve straight before losing a TD to Jeff Fenech in Australia. Curiously, three of his four losses came at the hands of future Hall of Fame inductees. Zarate himself was inducted into the Hall 1994 and the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1996.

Rodolfo Martinez (1965-1979)

This Tepiteño fought his first 22 bouts in Mexico City before losing by MD to Rafael Herrera in a bid for the vacant NABF bantamweight title. He then won seven straight and was 35-1-1 when he again fought Herrera in 1973 with the vacant WBC bantamweight title at stake. This time, he would be stopped in 12 in a classic battle in which both warriors hit the deck.

He finally caught up with Herrera in 1974 and TKOd him in four to capture the WBC bantamweight title. He defended his title four times before losing it to Zarate in 1976. After losing his Mexico bantamweight title to Roberto “Kid” Rubaldino, he bounced back with his last great win, a seventh round TKO over undefeated Mike Ayala in Mike’s home town of San Antonio. He retired in 1979 with a tally of 44-7-1 and an equally impressive KO percentage of 67.32.

There are many other Tepiteños who made their mark in the ring (including the great Marco Antonio Barrera), but when one thinks of El barrio bravo de Tepito, the names of “El Raton,” “El Púas,” “Caña, “Huitlacoche,” “Famoso” and “Kid Azteca” over shadow everything else. These hard men embodied the nature of Tepito from the ‘50s through the ‘80s. After all, boxing and Tepito were synonymous back in the day.

Saldivar. Who? Where? When? . . .

My friend, Juan, is from Tepito. He grew up near Vicente Saldivar. The future featherweight champ and his older brother were friends.
I wonder why the name "Vicente Saldivar" is not on the list of greats from Tepito? Seems Saldivar's name is always missing when it comes to Mexican greats.
I know all about the guys listed above, even traded blows with a few in the gym, such as Olivares & Martinez.
These were great boxers, no better than Saldivar. Tepito has produced many great fighters. None were greater than Vicente Saldivar.


-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Tony's daughter

[Rick Farris]

The nominees for this year's "Contractor of the Year" Award:

The Three Amigos . . .

I saw some strange stuff like this in the Dominican Republic, in Santa Domingo, the Capitol.
The old, old buildings, that dated back to the days of Columbus were cool.
Some of the contemporary structures we filmed in were obviously designed by architects such as those above.
The guys had to be morons. I'd say something seems to have been lost along the lines of "pride of workmanship".

Still, some of the most impovrished made things work out of nothing. Like the three guys I saw riding on a moped.
We were stuck in morning traffic in Santa Domingo. It was about 7am and we are in a production van giving the crew shuttles rides to the set from our hotel.
In bumber to bumper traffic, the three amigos on the moped, one on the handlebars, one on the seat, and one on a bike rack in the rear.
The guy on the back is holding what appears to be a one gallon plastic bottle, full of gaseline, with a hose going from the spout to the engine of the moped. The hose was the fule line.
The guy on the seat, just in front of him, has a cigarette handing out of his mouth, and the guy on the handlebars is holding on for his life as they zip in & out of traffic.
I knew this was an accident waiting to happen and a moment later we hear a car horn blast followed by a crash.
A couple minutes later, the traffic eases by an accident scene. The guy on the handlebars appeared to be laying dead in the road.
The guy on the back who was holding the bottle of gas (which was now a large puddle in the center of the road) was sitting in the street holding his foot, sobbing in pain, blood everywhere.
The guy who was actually driving the bike was on his feet, holding handlebars broken off in his hands, not hurt, yelling at the driver of the car.
They are screaming at each other. We just moved on, a long with everybody else.

We had a movie to make.


-Rick Farris

[Randyman]

Burke’s blog: Han arrives in San Diego

Blog by Louie Burke http://newmexicoboxing.com/?p=795

Abie Han and I arrived in San Diego yesterday where we were picked up by matchmaker Vince Parra. He took us to the hotel where we changed into our workout gear to finish off our last workout, and to see what Abie’s weight was.

After the workout, Abie was 156, which is the contracted weight. He looked and felt ready for Thursday night’s fight with Ibahiem King, a 6-0 middleweight from West Palm Beach, Florida.

The event is promoted by Rogue Boxing Promotions and will be the first of a series of fights at the San Diego Hardrock Hotel. Tickets sales seem to be doing very well and a few celebrities will be in the audience.

We look forward to fighting King, he’s a crafty south-paw, much like “No Doubt” Austin Trout. We had great lefty sparring in preparation for the fight, working with Austin and Rene Armijo.

After doing our homework, we know that King will be a true test, and someone not to be taken lightly. At 3-0 we would have liked to get someone a little softer, but it’s been impossible to find an opponent for Abie anywhere in the southwest. We’ve reached out to big promoters with no avail. So, in order to keep active, we decided to jump up a few levels, feeling confident we’ll land feet first.

No matter the outcome, we’ve been promised a few more spots this year with Rogue Boxing Promotions.

Weigh-ins are today at 2:00 p.m.