The other day I'm driving back from my warehouse where I store my art. Driving up the hill towards home there's this car in front of me stopping and going, and swerving over the line. It looks like a guy with a girl in the car. I'm guessing his daughter.
Well I try to get around this guy and he decides to make a left turn. My car is besides this guy when he turns and I'm thinking he's going to hit me. I turn hard and lean on the horn. We both slam on the brakes. No collision thank God.
I continue driving and I see this guy following me in rear view mirror aways back. I turn at the next corner and he turns too. I pull over. He slowly pulls parralell to me ,but slightly behind my side window. I've got my window down and I see inside his car the girl is not as young as I thought. Maybe his wife or girlfriend. Both probably in their late 20's. The girl has her window down.
"What's up bitch?,"she says to me laughing.
Right off I could tell they were both drunk.
"I'm no bitch."
Then the guy intercedes.
"What's wrong?"he says looking at me. I could tell he's trying to size me up. He doesn't pull his car along side mine.
"So you two have been drinking",I said.
I wanted to keep him on the defence.
"No we haven't," he says back.
In the mean time I'm looking him over too. He's pretty big. Thick through the shoulders. Now if he gets out of the car,I'll have to also. But he sits there and wants to jaw jack with me. I give him a nasty look and tell him to screw himself. I drive away slowly. I turn at the next corner and he drives straight.
I was glad it didn't come down to fighting him. I probably wouldn't have won. My hips are getting real bad. I can walk in a straight line,but if I have to turn or plant my feat with sudden moves I'll collapse. I have very little stregnth in my back now. If he had known that maybe he would have gotten out of the car.
It's a bitch knowing you're past your prime.
Rog, these two gavoones you ran into sure get around.
I see them all the time in Chicago.
The other day I'm driving back from my warehouse where I store my art. Driving up the hill towards home there's this car in front of me stopping and going, and swerving over the line. It looks like a guy with a girl in the car. I'm guessing his daughter.
Well I try to get around this guy and he decides to make a left turn. My car is besides this guy when he turns and I'm thinking he's going to hit me. I turn hard and lean on the horn. We both slam on the brakes. No collision thank God.
I continue driving and I see this guy following me in rear view mirror aways back. I turn at the next corner and he turns too. I pull over. He slowly pulls parralell to me ,but slightly behind my side window. I've got my window down and I see inside his car the girl is not as young as I thought. Maybe his wife or girlfriend. Both probably in their late 20's. The girl has her window down.
"What's up bitch?,"she says to me laughing.
Right off I could tell they were both drunk.
"I'm no bitch."
Then the guy intercedes.
"What's wrong?"he says looking at me. I could tell he's trying to size me up. He doesn't pull his car along side mine.
"So you two have been drinking",I said.
I wanted to keep him on the defence.
"No we haven't," he says back.
In the mean time I'm looking him over too. He's pretty big. Thick through the shoulders. Now if he gets out of the car,I'll have to also. But he sits there and wants to jaw jack with me. I give him a nasty look and tell him to screw himself. I drive away slowly. I turn at the next corner and he drives straight.
I was glad it didn't come down to fighting him. I probably wouldn't have won. My hips are getting real bad. I can walk in a straight line,but if I have to turn or plant my feat with sudden moves I'll collapse. I have very little stregnth in my back now. If he had known that maybe he would have gotten out of the car.
It's a bitch knowing you're past your prime.
What's prime?
Seems to me you scored the perfect victory, Rog. You intimidated a big punk and his Princess Gonorhea.
In the old days, you'd have gotten out of the car, and before he could get his in gear, you'd have him out in the street and banging his face on the bumper. You'd have turned your ankle a little when throwing him to the ground and his blood would stain your new Nike's, you may have escaped before the cops show up, but then there was that old lady on the porch who was writing down license plate numbers. Even if she didn't get your license plate, you'd feel motivated to get the car off the street, and into a garage. You'd have skipped your warehouse, and would have had to return later. Now you don't want to drive that car into the neighborhood for awhile, which really means more inconvenience. You did it the right way this time. No pain , no strain, the guy will never confront a car like yours again, drunk or sober. He was defeated by the serious looking guy in the last one he confronted, "close call" he thought to himself as he slithered off down the block.
I'm proud of you, Roger. You couldn't have done that if you weren't "In Your Prime"!
Maybe it's a sign of the times,but lately I've been in some unexpected beefs with some real knuckleheads. First the old cholo who rides his bike in front of my car and then starts coming at me. I figure I better load up with everything I've got. I hit this guy and he starts crying
Then there's the guy in TJ that pulls the knife on me in the alley. Lucky for me he's dying of AIDS and loaded on heroin. Another 1 round stoppage.
When you don't see me post for awhile,you guys can figure I finally ran into somebody without a habit and mental problems.
Frank do you know if Dolph Thomas' Gym and Royal Gym were one and the same? Both were gone before I came along, I only knew Newman's and Hermans on Leavinworth St. which is gone now too. I'll try to drive by 541 Turk St. in the next few days to see what is there now.
Bruce
Maybe it's a sign of the times,but lately I've been in some unexpected beefs with some real knuckleheads. First the old cholo who rides his bike in front of my car and then starts coming at me. I figure I better load up with everything I've got. I hit this guy and he starts crying
Then there's the guy in TJ that pulls the knife on me in the alley. Lucky for me he's dying of AIDS and loaded on heroin. Another 1 round stoppage.
When you don't see me post for awhile,you guys can figure I finally ran into somebody without a habit and mental problems.
Nice to know that your punch won't betray you. Like Dempsey, you'll always be able to hit, Rog.
The other day I'm driving back from my warehouse where I store my art. Driving up the hill towards home there's this car in front of me stopping and going, and swerving over the line. It looks like a guy with a girl in the car. I'm guessing his daughter.
Well I try to get around this guy and he decides to make a left turn. My car is besides this guy when he turns and I'm thinking he's going to hit me. I turn hard and lean on the horn. We both slam on the brakes. No collision thank God.
I continue driving and I see this guy following me in rear view mirror aways back. I turn at the next corner and he turns too. I pull over. He slowly pulls parralell to me ,but slightly behind my side window. I've got my window down and I see inside his car the girl is not as young as I thought. Maybe his wife or girlfriend. Both probably in their late 20's. The girl has her window down.
"What's up bitch?,"she says to me laughing.
Right off I could tell they were both drunk.
"I'm no bitch."
Then the guy intercedes.
"What's wrong?"he says looking at me. I could tell he's trying to size me up. He doesn't pull his car along side mine.
"So you two have been drinking",I said.
I wanted to keep him on the defence.
"No we haven't," he says back.
In the mean time I'm looking him over too. He's pretty big. Thick through the shoulders. Now if he gets out of the car,I'll have to also. But he sits there and wants to jaw jack with me. I give him a nasty look and tell him to screw himself. I drive away slowly. I turn at the next corner and he drives straight.
I was glad it didn't come down to fighting him. I probably wouldn't have won. My hips are getting real bad. I can walk in a straight line,but if I have to turn or plant my feat with sudden moves I'll collapse. I have very little stregnth in my back now. If he had known that maybe he would have gotten out of the car.
It's a bitch knowing you're past your prime.
What's prime?
Seems to me you scored the perfect victory, Rog. You intimidated a big punk and his Princess Gonorhea.
In the old days, you'd have gotten out of the car, and before he could get his in gear, you'd have him out in the street and banging his face on the bumper. You'd have turned your ankle a little when throwing him to the ground and his blood would stain your new Nike's, you may have escaped before the cops show up, but then there was that old lady on the porch who was writing down license plate numbers. Even if she didn't get your license plate, you'd feel motivated to get the car off the street, and into a garage. You'd have skipped your warehouse, and would have had to return later. Now you don't want to drive that car into the neighborhood for awhile, which really means more inconvenience. You did it the right way this time. No pain , no strain, the guy will never confront a car like yours again, drunk or sober. He was defeated by the serious looking guy in the last one he confronted, "close call" he thought to himself as he slithered off down the block.
I'm proud of you, Roger. You couldn't have done that if you weren't "In Your Prime"!
-Rick Farris
Road rage is terrible over here. You can barely drive round the block without someone having a little dig on the move, safe from any immediate consequence. The car brings out the bully in people, the coward.
I was in a similar sort of situation the other day while out walking in a quiet part of town. I was with my girlfriend and there was a drunken couple about 20 yards in front of us, arguing and swearing. The drunken bloke was pretty big and we were just hanging back, letting them get on with it, when suddenly the guy stopped and looked back at me. He continued staring, continued standing. I thought, " here we go, he's going to take it out on me." I got closer and whispered to the Mrs, "If he makes a move I'm letting a right hand go." I'm only 5ft 4ins but I know how to throw a right hook, followed by a sequence of right uppercuts, standing square. I didn't attempt to aggravate the situation with any staring myself, I was just ready for that move of his. I certainly knew I had the edge in sobriety.
The guy didn't make his move.
Rick Farris wrote:I always get a laugh when golfers tattle on each other.
"He moved his ball."
"He didn't sign his score card."
Or,
"Let's not vote the black guy into our club."
"The Jews have their own clubs. Let them join there."
San Diego has to be the golf capitol of the world. Someone said there's more golf courses here than any other city. There's one down the hill from where I live. I go out to my balcony to paint and see the golf course. Can't miss it. When I paint, my back is to the golf course.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Not another Golf tournament . . .
For the past few years, the WBHOF has put on an annual golf tournament as a fund raiser.
This year it won't happen, can't get any sponsors, the golf course won't cut them as good a deal as in the past, etc. etc.
The Board Directors can't understand why this is happening?
I suggested they think about the day they held the tournament last year.
They decided to hold it at the Soboba Casino Golf Course just a few miles from Palm Springs.
They set the date for late July.
For those of you who don't live in Southern Cal, Palm Springs is right in the middle of the desert. Temps over 110 degrees daily in July.
Most of the foggies who attend these functions are older than dirt, they aren't built to take 18 holes in a microwave.
My dad is a golfer, lives on a course and has played since he was a kid. However, he's 85 and if he's going to die on a golf course, it's not going to be my fault.
The old man is pretty game about facing the elements in life, but a golf tournament on the edge of the sun didn't make sense to him.
"I'll go sometime when they do it in a cooler place," he said. I was happy he bailed, I thought I was doing it for him, something he'd enjoy- golf.
I always wondered what kind of a tournament they would have? The only people who play golf are about 3 or 4 board directors.
Most of the fighters can't play, I don't think too many of the golf balls go in the holes. Most are probably lost in the pond or in the high grass.
I don't know who invented golf, but something tells me he was a boring a-hole.
I'd have been much happier had my dad been a baseball fan, however, we came together behind boxing. That suited us both.
As a kid, he took me to a few games at Dodger Stadium, and he never forced me out on the golf course. So I guess I had it pretty good.
My buddy Pat Vetere was rooming with Ronnie Wilson back in the day when Denny Moyer had just blown into town. Moyer was supposed to steady Wilson and help bring him along. All Denny did was bring Wilson along to all the bars in town.
Once my buddy Pat told of the time Wilson,Moyer,and himself got a snootfull one afternoon and decided to try their hand at golf. I doubt whether any of them ever played the game,but their objective was to see how far they could hit the golf balls.
There's a public course out here called Torrey Pines. Real pretty spot. Over looks the ocean. They played the Masters here I think. It was a big one. That's all I know. Well the three drunk divoters roll into Torrey Pines and I guess the guys runnin' the course were too afraid to say "Can't play if you're drunk."
The way my buddy Pat ran it by me was that the three crazies didn.t care about making the balls into the hole,just how many balls they could smack into the Pacific Ocean.
I guess the threesome ran out of balls so they wrapped their clubs around the nearest tree and when that wasn't enough they threw the rest of the clubs into the Pacific Ocean.
Pretty funny until they had to return the golf clubs. They were rented. I'd would have loved to see that one on Wide World Of Sports.
My buddy Pat Vetere was rooming with Ronnie Wilson back in the day when Denny Moyer had just blown into town. Moyer was supposed to steady Wilson and help bring him along. All Denny did was bring Wilson along to all the bars in town.
Once my buddy Pat told of the time Wilson,Moyer,and himself got a snootfull one afternoon and decided to try their hand at golf. I doubt whether any of them ever played the game,but their objective was to see how far they could hit the golf balls.
There's a public course out here called Torrey Pines. Real pretty spot. Over looks the ocean. They played the Masters here I think. It was a big one. That's all I know. Well the three drunk divoters roll into Torrey Pines and I guess the guys runnin' the course were too afraid to say "Can't play if you're drunk."
The way my buddy Pat ran it by me was that the three crazies didn.t care about making the balls into the hole,just how many balls they could smack into the Pacific Ocean.
I guess the threesome ran out of balls so they wrapped their clubs around the nearest tree and when that wasn't enough they threw the rest of the clubs into the Pacific Ocean.
Pretty funny until they had to return the golf clubs. They were rented. I'd would have loved to see that one on Wide World Of Sports.
Mel Epstein on Golf for Boxers . . .
The Quarry's and Mike Nixon began playing golf while at training camp up at Gilman Hot Springs near Hemet. The training camp was a golf resort known as Massacre Canyon Inn, and today is a Scientology retreat. This drove Nixon's old school trainer, Mel Epstein, crazy. I remember in the mid 70's Boxing Illustrated did a story about the Quarry's and Nixon enjoying a few holes after working out. The story emphasized how a game of golf was good to relax a boxer during the training grind.
While writing the story, the reporter interviewed Epstein, thinking the old timer would be happy about the improvement in conditions as compared to the older training facilities. Epstein replied:
"You think this is good for fighters? Dempsey didn't need golf, or broads or alcohol served to all the pain-in-the-ass free-loading press agents that pack this place looking for a handout. And what are the golf carts for? A fighter should be walking, not riding and why does he need a caddy? What's the caddy going to do, throw water in his face when he gets knocked out? Golf ruined Joe Louis, and it brings in an unsavory group that should be forbidden from associating with boxers. This ain't a training camp, all the bastids wanna do is pose for pictures with my fighter while he's trying to workout. I tell them, if you want a cute picture go to the god damn zoo. This ain't a training camp, it's where bouzzards go to lay their eggs. I'll tell you about a training camp up in Butte, Montana, no golf there, no phonies, no reporters, no golf carts, no broads, no buzzards . . . Hell, the place didn't even have electricity."
The reporter was shocked by what Epstein told him, and most of it went into the article. Hey Randy, did you ever get a call from Mel on a Sunday morning, inviting you to join him at his country club?
-Rick Farris
Last edited by Rick Farris on 22 May 2009, 12:22, edited 1 time in total.
My buddy Pat Vetere was rooming with Ronnie Wilson back in the day when Denny Moyer had just blown into town. Moyer was supposed to steady Wilson and help bring him along. All Denny did was bring Wilson along to all the bars in town.
Once my buddy Pat told of the time Wilson,Moyer,and himself got a snootfull one afternoon and decided to try their hand at golf. I doubt whether any of them ever played the game,but their objective was to see how far they could hit the golf balls.
There's a public course out here called Torrey Pines. Real pretty spot. Over looks the ocean. They played the Masters here I think. It was a big one. That's all I know. Well the three drunk divoters roll into Torrey Pines and I guess the guys runnin' the course were too afraid to say "Can't play if you're drunk."
The way my buddy Pat ran it by me was that the three crazies didn.t care about making the balls into the hole,just how many balls they could smack into the Pacific Ocean.
I guess the threesome ran out of balls so they wrapped their clubs around the nearest tree and when that wasn't enough they threw the rest of the clubs into the Pacific Ocean.
Pretty funny until they had to return the golf clubs. They were rented. I'd would have loved to see that one on Wide World Of Sports.
Mel Epstein on Golf for Boxers . . .
The Quarry's and Mike Nixon began playing golf while at training camp up at Gilman Hot Springs near Hemet. The training camp was a golf resort known as Massacre Canyon Inn, and today is a Scientology retreat. This drove Nixon's old school trainer, Mel Epstein, crazy. I remember in the mid 70's Boxing Illustrated did a story about the Quarry's and Nixon enjoying a few holes after working out. The story emphasized how a game of golf was good to relax a boxer during the training grind.
While writing the story, the reporter interviewed Epstein, thinking the old timer would be happy about the improvement in conditions as compared to the older training facilities. Epstein replied:
"You think this is good for fighters? Dempsey didn't need golf, or broads or alcohol served to all the pain-in-the-ass free-loading press agents that pack this place looking for a handout. And what are the golf carts for? A fighter should be walking, not riding and why does he need a caddy? What's the caddy going to do, throw water in his face when he gets knocked out? Golf ruined Joe Louis, and it brings in an unsavory group that should be forbidden from associating with boxers. This ain't a training camp, all the bastids wanna do is pose for pictures with my fighter while he's trying to workout. I tell them, if you want a cute picture go to the god damn zoo. This ain't a training camp, it's where bouzzards go to lay their eggs. I'll tell you about a training camp up in Butte, Montana, no golf there, no phonies, no reporters, no golf carts, no broads, no buzzards . . . "
The reporter was shocked by what Epstein told him, and most of it went into the article. Hey Randy, did you ever get a call from Mel on a Sunday morning, inviting you to join him at his country club?
-Rick Farris
Thanks, Rick, for making my day with that funny story.....
My buddy Pat Vetere was rooming with Ronnie Wilson back in the day when Denny Moyer had just blown into town. Moyer was supposed to steady Wilson and help bring him along. All Denny did was bring Wilson along to all the bars in town.
Once my buddy Pat told of the time Wilson,Moyer,and himself got a snootfull one afternoon and decided to try their hand at golf. I doubt whether any of them ever played the game,but their objective was to see how far they could hit the golf balls.
There's a public course out here called Torrey Pines. Real pretty spot. Over looks the ocean. They played the Masters here I think. It was a big one. That's all I know. Well the three drunk divoters roll into Torrey Pines and I guess the guys runnin' the course were too afraid to say "Can't play if you're drunk."
The way my buddy Pat ran it by me was that the three crazies didn.t care about making the balls into the hole,just how many balls they could smack into the Pacific Ocean.
I guess the threesome ran out of balls so they wrapped their clubs around the nearest tree and when that wasn't enough they threw the rest of the clubs into the Pacific Ocean.
Pretty funny until they had to return the golf clubs. They were rented. I'd would have loved to see that one on Wide World Of Sports.
Mel Epstein on Golf for Boxers . . .
The Quarry's and Mike Nixon began playing golf while at training camp up at Gilman Hot Springs near Hemet. The training camp was a golf resort known as Massacre Canyon Inn, and today is a Scientology retreat. This drove Nixon's old school trainer, Mel Epstein, crazy. I remember in the mid 70's Boxing Illustrated did a story about the Quarry's and Nixon enjoying a few holes after working out. The story emphasized how a game of golf was good to relax a boxer during the training grind.
While writing the story, the reporter interviewed Epstein, thinking the old timer would be happy about the improvement in conditions as compared to the older training facilities. Epstein replied:
"You think this is good for fighters? Dempsey didn't need golf, or broads or alcohol served to all the pain-in-the-ass free-loading press agents that pack this place looking for a handout. And what are the golf carts for? A fighter should be walking, not riding and why does he need a caddy? What's the caddy going to do, throw water in his face when he gets knocked out? Golf ruined Joe Louis, and it brings in an unsavory group that should be forbidden from associating with boxers. This ain't a training camp, all the bastids wanna do is pose for pictures with my fighter while he's trying to workout. I tell them, if you want a cute picture go to the god damn zoo. This ain't a training camp, it's where bouzzards go to lay their eggs. I'll tell you about a training camp up in Butte, Montana, no golf there, no phonies, no reporters, no golf carts, no broads, no buzzards . . . Hell, the place didn't even have electricity."
The reporter was shocked by what Epstein told him, and most of it went into the article. Hey Randy, did you ever get a call from Mel on a Sunday morning, inviting you to join him at his country club?
-Rick Farris
Rick, that interview was typical Mel Epstein! He was so convinced that anything a fighter liked or wanted to do, whether another sport or "wimmin", was bad for a fighter. With the exception of mother's, sisters and daughters, all "wimmin" were either whores or bitches. I once let him talk me out of buying a dirt bike because he said it was bad for a fighters kidneys. There was no middle ground with Mel.
As far as Dempsey goes the women went for him and vice versa but when Mel put his blinders on his words were assumed to be the gospel truth.
Rick, sometimes I think Mel is up there - or down there - shaking his fists and grimacing at us every time we mention his name. Behind every grimace was a trace of a smile. Lucky for us he usually kept it at a faint smile. The laugh itself was a terrible thing to behold.
My father was a golfer, as well as Frank's boys. That alone should dispel any notion that anyone has about golfers.
My father second from left.
Well, it was a war and by far the best fight of the night. King, a south-paw didn’t waste any time trying to land his straight left just missing it’s target but indicating that was his power shot. Abie found a home for his left hook which hurt King multiple times throughout the fight. In the fourth, King caught Abie with straight left, wobbling him, but as he went for the finish, Abie impressively bobbed, weaved and held on til he re-gained his whereabouts, enabling him to survive the round. In the fifth, both fighters clashed heads, causing a stream of blood, from a cut above Abie’s hairline. In between rounds the bleeding was stopped and never played a factor in the fight The rest of the fight, Abie stayed busier and out hustled King. I grew a little grayer tonight but was pleased with the victory. The scores were 60-54 and 58-54 twice.
Thanks for your support,
Louie
Well, it was a war and by far the best fight of the night. King, a south-paw didn’t waste any time trying to land his straight left just missing it’s target but indicating that was his power shot. Abie found a home for his left hook which hurt King multiple times throughout the fight. In the fourth, King caught Abie with straight left, wobbling him, but as he went for the finish, Abie impressively bobbed, weaved and held on til he re-gained his whereabouts, enabling him to survive the round. In the fifth, both fighters clashed heads, causing a stream of blood, from a cut above Abie’s hairline. In between rounds the bleeding was stopped and never played a factor in the fight The rest of the fight, Abie stayed busier and out hustled King. I grew a little grayer tonight but was pleased with the victory. The scores were 60-54 and 58-54 twice.
Thanks for your support,
Louie
Sounds like a great learning fight, and a competitive one, Louie. Over here we have too many mismatches. You know exactly who is going to win before the first bell has even tolled.
My buddy Pat Vetere was rooming with Ronnie Wilson back in the day when Denny Moyer had just blown into town. Moyer was supposed to steady Wilson and help bring him along. All Denny did was bring Wilson along to all the bars in town.
Once my buddy Pat told of the time Wilson,Moyer,and himself got a snootfull one afternoon and decided to try their hand at golf. I doubt whether any of them ever played the game,but their objective was to see how far they could hit the golf balls.
There's a public course out here called Torrey Pines. Real pretty spot. Over looks the ocean. They played the Masters here I think. It was a big one. That's all I know. Well the three drunk divoters roll into Torrey Pines and I guess the guys runnin' the course were too afraid to say "Can't play if you're drunk."
The way my buddy Pat ran it by me was that the three crazies didn.t care about making the balls into the hole,just how many balls they could smack into the Pacific Ocean.
I guess the threesome ran out of balls so they wrapped their clubs around the nearest tree and when that wasn't enough they threw the rest of the clubs into the Pacific Ocean.
Pretty funny until they had to return the golf clubs. They were rented. I'd would have loved to see that one on Wide World Of Sports.
Mel Epstein on Golf for Boxers . . .
The Quarry's and Mike Nixon began playing golf while at training camp up at Gilman Hot Springs near Hemet. The training camp was a golf resort known as Massacre Canyon Inn, and today is a Scientology retreat. This drove Nixon's old school trainer, Mel Epstein, crazy. I remember in the mid 70's Boxing Illustrated did a story about the Quarry's and Nixon enjoying a few holes after working out. The story emphasized how a game of golf was good to relax a boxer during the training grind.
While writing the story, the reporter interviewed Epstein, thinking the old timer would be happy about the improvement in conditions as compared to the older training facilities. Epstein replied:
"You think this is good for fighters? Dempsey didn't need golf, or broads or alcohol served to all the pain-in-the-ass free-loading press agents that pack this place looking for a handout. And what are the golf carts for? A fighter should be walking, not riding and why does he need a caddy? What's the caddy going to do, throw water in his face when he gets knocked out? Golf ruined Joe Louis, and it brings in an unsavory group that should be forbidden from associating with boxers. This ain't a training camp, all the bastids wanna do is pose for pictures with my fighter while he's trying to workout. I tell them, if you want a cute picture go to the god damn zoo. This ain't a training camp, it's where bouzzards go to lay their eggs. I'll tell you about a training camp up in Butte, Montana, no golf there, no phonies, no reporters, no golf carts, no broads, no buzzards . . . Hell, the place didn't even have electricity."
The reporter was shocked by what Epstein told him, and most of it went into the article. Hey Randy, did you ever get a call from Mel on a Sunday morning, inviting you to join him at his country club?
-Rick Farris
Rick, that interview was typical Mel Epstein! He was so convinced that anything a fighter liked or wanted to do, whether another sport or "wimmin", was bad for a fighter. With the exception of mother's, sisters and daughters, all "wimmin" were either whores or bitches. I once let him talk me out of buying a dirt bike because he said it was bad for a fighters kidneys. There was no middle ground with Mel.
As far as Dempsey goes the women went for him and vice versa but when Mel put his blinders on his words were assumed to be the gospel truth.
Rick, sometimes I think Mel is up there - or down there - shaking his fists and grimacing at us every time we mention his name. Behind every grimace was a trace of a smile. Lucky for us he usually kept it at a faint smile. The laugh itself was a terrible thing to behold.
My father was a golfer, as well as Frank's boys. That alone should dispel any notion that anyone has about golfers.
My father second from left.
Randy
But your mentor Mel would have found a soul mate in Jack Blackburn, who believed too much time on the links was a contributing factor in Joe Louis' loss to Max Schmeling in 1936. (Blackburn felt it ruined the fighter's focus and developed the wrong muscle groups.) Thereafter, Joe stayed off the course during training camp - at least as long as Blackburn trained him.
The bantams of the great contenders series. Hope I covered everyone here at 118. Anyone see a glaring ommission?
Scartissue
BANTAM
Aurel Toma (Rom) (0)
Chamrern Songkitrat (Thai) (3)
Leo Espinosa (Phil) (1)
Jose Medal (Mex) (2)
Bernardo Carraballo (Col) (2)
Alan Rudkin (Eng) (3)
Jesus Pimental (Mex) (1)
Famoso Gomez (Mex) (0)
Valentin Galeano (Par) (0)
Rogelio Lara (Mex) (1)
Venice Borkorsor (Thai) (2)
Alberto Sandoval (USA) (1)
Jiro Watanabe (Jap) (0)
Gilberto Roman (Mex) (0)
Khaosoi Galaxy (Thai) (0)
Awright, gang, 118 is rocking with talent and I can't hold 'em back, so let's begin with Aurel Toma, a two time Euro champ from '36-'39 and a fighter who beat 6 world champs in his stellar career yet, no opportunity for the little Romanian. Chamrern Songkitrat, on the other hand, had talent plus political and financial backing to his career, and gave Carruthers, Cohen and Macias a go of it in all of his efforts for the crown. Leo Espinosa, after a highly productive run of it at 112, was a fixture in the 118 ratings from '56-'62 and went head to head with Jofre and Macias, the latter for the crown. Jose (Joe) Medal, despite never winning the title, this fighter is still immersed in Mexican boxing lore to this day. Medal fought twice for the crown, was rated amongst the big boys from '60-'67, fought 8 world champs, and beat Fighting Harada, Walter McGowan and Jesus Pimental. Bernardo Carraballo, this rangy Columbian had the misfortune of, like Medal, going up against Jofre and Harada for the title. The throne and division was solid in the mid-sixties, but Carraballo, who fought 7 world champs, still managed to beat Pascual Perez, Chartchai Chionoi and Piero Rollo. Alan Rudkin, the British, Commonwealth and Euro champ was a solid fixture at Bantam from '65-'72 and fought Harada, Rose and Olivares for the crown, retiring with a solid 42-8 record. Beat McGowan, Johnny Caldwell, Johnny Clark and Franco Zurlo. Jesus Pimental. Try to imagine being rated every year in the top ten from 1963 until the early ‘70s, seeing two title opportunities go belly up, and finally, at the ripe old age of 31 you get your shot at the crown. Unfortunately, Ruben Olivares is standing in the other corner. Just plain bad luck. Octavio (Famoso) Gomez, a veritable speed demon in the ring who took the measure of fighters of three divisions. Although no title opportunity came his way, he did beat Rafael Herrera, Danny Lopez, Fernando Cabanela, Valentin Galeano, Cesar Deciga and Fernando Atzori. Valentin Galeano, a thick built tank of a Bantamweight who almost changed history when he laid out Ruben Olivares in '71. Unfortunately for the hard punching Paraguayan, Olivares got up. Rogelio Lara, another awesome Banty from south of the border who toed the mark with Clemente Sanchez, Chucho Castillo, Rodolfo Martinez and Romeo Anaya. The latter for the title, in which he lost a disputed split 15 rounder. Venice Borkorsor, the former Flyweight champ invaded the Bantams in '73, beginning with a demolition job on former #1 contender Julio Guererro. Borkorsor fought Herrera and Martinez both to split 15 round decisions. Alberto (Superfly) Sandoval, was so gifted, if only he could have kept his head together. DQ'd against Elisio Cosme for nailing him while he graced the canvas and KO'd by Alfonso Zamora after having him out on his feet, courtesy of his awesome jab, only to pull another Billy Conn. Lupe Pintor finally ended his run in the 12th round of their title bout. Jiro Watanabe was an outstanding Super Flyweight (Jr. Bantam) champ from Japan who never opted to cross the three pound threshold into the Bantam division. This, despite impressive wins over Shoji Oguma, Gustavo Ballas and Payao Poontarat. Gilberto Roman, who likewise was content to stay at the bastardized 115 lb. limit, was an outstanding boxer, in a Miguel Canto mold, who beat Watanabe, Santos Laciar and Sugar Baby Rojas. And of course there is Khaosoi Galaxy, of this hesitant trio that would never cross the line. He retired with a record of 49-1, 19 defenses at 115, with wins over Rafael Orono, Elly Pical and Israel Contreras.
Honorable mention: Johnny King, Freddie Gilroy, Raul Cruz, Cesar Deciga, Johnny Clark, Eijiro Murata, Harold Petty, Danny Romero.
But your mentor Mel would have found a soul mate in Jack Blackburn, who believed too much time on the links was a contributing factor in Joe Louis' loss to Max Schmeling in 1936. (Blackburn felt it ruined the fighter's focus and developed the wrong muscle groups.) Thereafter, Joe stayed off the course during training camp - at least as long as Blackburn trained him.
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Tom . . . Mel and Blackburn were on the same page. I imagine Blackburn had an edge that no other trainer in history could claim.
A truly great fighter in his own right, what a story. Mel Epstein was a charactor, Blackburn a dangerous charactor when crossed, a great loss to the champ when "Chappie" (their nicknames for each other) passed away during his title reign.
scartissue wrote:The bantams of the great contenders series. Hope I covered everyone here at 118. Anyone see a glaring ommission?
Scartissue
BANTAM
Aurel Toma (Rom) (0)
Chamrern Songkitrat (Thai) (3)
Leo Espinosa (Phil) (1)
Jose Medal (Mex) (2)
Bernardo Carraballo (Col) (2)
Alan Rudkin (Eng) (3)
Jesus Pimental (Mex) (1)
Famoso Gomez (Mex) (0)
Valentin Galeano (Par) (0)
Rogelio Lara (Mex) (1)
Venice Borkorsor (Thai) (2)
Alberto Sandoval (USA) (1)
Jiro Watanabe (Jap) (0)
Gilberto Roman (Mex) (0)
Khaosoi Galaxy (Thai) (0)
Awright, gang, 118 is rocking with talent and I can't hold 'em back, so let's begin with Aurel Toma, a two time Euro champ from '36-'39 and a fighter who beat 6 world champs in his stellar career yet, no opportunity for the little Romanian. Chamrern Songkitrat, on the other hand, had talent plus political and financial backing to his career, and gave Carruthers, Cohen and Macias a go of it in all of his efforts for the crown. Leo Espinosa, after a highly productive run of it at 112, was a fixture in the 118 ratings from '56-'62 and went head to head with Jofre and Macias, the latter for the crown. Jose (Joe) Medal, despite never winning the title, this fighter is still immersed in Mexican boxing lore to this day. Medal fought twice for the crown, was rated amongst the big boys from '60-'67, fought 8 world champs, and beat Fighting Harada, Walter McGowan and Jesus Pimental. Bernardo Carraballo, this rangy Columbian had the misfortune of, like Medal, going up against Jofre and Harada for the title. The throne and division was solid in the mid-sixties, but Carraballo, who fought 7 world champs, still managed to beat Pascual Perez, Chartchai Chionoi and Piero Rollo. Alan Rudkin, the British, Commonwealth and Euro champ was a solid fixture at Bantam from '65-'72 and fought Harada, Rose and Olivares for the crown, retiring with a solid 42-8 record. Beat McGowan, Johnny Caldwell, Johnny Clark and Franco Zurlo. Jesus Pimental. Try to imagine being rated every year in the top ten from 1963 until the early ‘70s, seeing two title opportunities go belly up, and finally, at the ripe old age of 31 you get your shot at the crown. Unfortunately, Ruben Olivares is standing in the other corner. Just plain bad luck. Octavio (Famoso) Gomez, a veritable speed demon in the ring who took the measure of fighters of three divisions. Although no title opportunity came his way, he did beat Rafael Herrera, Danny Lopez, Fernando Cabanela, Valentin Galeano, Cesar Deciga and Fernando Atzori. Valentin Galeano, a thick built tank of a Bantamweight who almost changed history when he laid out Ruben Olivares in '71. Unfortunately for the hard punching Paraguayan, Olivares got up. Rogelio Lara, another awesome Banty from south of the border who toed the mark with Clemente Sanchez, Chucho Castillo, Rodolfo Martinez and Romeo Anaya. The latter for the title, in which he lost a disputed split 15 rounder. Venice Borkorsor, the former Flyweight champ invaded the Bantams in '73, beginning with a demolition job on former #1 contender Julio Guererro. Borkorsor fought Herrera and Martinez both to split 15 round decisions. Alberto (Superfly) Sandoval, was so gifted, if only he could have kept his head together. DQ'd against Elisio Cosme for nailing him while he graced the canvas and KO'd by Alfonso Zamora after having him out on his feet, courtesy of his awesome jab, only to pull another Billy Conn. Lupe Pintor finally ended his run in the 12th round of their title bout. Jiro Watanabe was an outstanding Super Flyweight (Jr. Bantam) champ from Japan who never opted to cross the three pound threshold into the Bantam division. This, despite impressive wins over Shoji Oguma, Gustavo Ballas and Payao Poontarat. Gilberto Roman, who likewise was content to stay at the bastardized 115 lb. limit, was an outstanding boxer, in a Miguel Canto mold, who beat Watanabe, Santos Laciar and Sugar Baby Rojas. And of course there is Khaosoi Galaxy, of this hesitant trio that would never cross the line. He retired with a record of 49-1, 19 defenses at 115, with wins over Rafael Orono, Elly Pical and Israel Contreras.
Honorable mention: Johnny King, Freddie Gilroy, Raul Cruz, Cesar Deciga, Johnny Clark, Eijiro Murata, Harold Petty, Danny Romero.
Jesus Pimentel . . .
Another great list, Scar. I will comment on one bantamweight, one I'm sure is a true uncrownded bantamweight champ, and that's Jesus Pimentel. I followed Pimentel closely from the early 60's, to his final bout for the title against Olivares. He was the victim of a couple foolish moves by his manager, Harry Kabakoff. The last one cost Pimentel a shot at a weakened Fighting Harada just three days prior to the title fight. Kabakoff pressured the promoter for more money and the promoter didn't respond. The manager and the fighter left Japan, and Lionel Rose was brought in on 2 days notice to fight Harada.
The bantam champ had struggled to make weight and was in bad shape when he went into the ring. He was knocked down and easily defeated by the light hitting Rose. Pimentel would have likely KOed Harada had he been in the ring as scheduled. Pimentel's KO record shows his power is of the same velocity as Olivares, Zarate, Pajarito Moreno, etc. I believe he'd have held the title for about one year, until being KOed by Ruben Olivares. Of course, who knows? But that's my opinion regarding Jesus Pimentel.
This is for all of the group that will be meeting at Tom's Farms on June 7th---
Something extremely important has come up for June 7th. I feel very badly that I will not be able to be with all of you on this date. On that Sunday I will be attending a charity event at Paramont Studios where they will have a WBC booth with a few invited champions for the 18th Annual Event honoring Children's Hospital Los Angeles childhood cancer survivors and their families. It is a very worthy cause and I feel very close to this as Barbara and I are working with a few children from the "Make a Wish" foundation in San Diego who are cancer patients.
A Typical George Parnassus-Forum Boxing Club fight card . . .
Romeo Anaya vs. Rogelio Lara - 15 rds. (World Bantamweight Championship)
Bobby Chacon vs. ChuCho Castillo
Ruben Olivares vs. Walter Seely
Albert Davila vs. Tomas Huerta
Hugo Barrazza vs. David Sotelo
Max Sanchez vs. Jose Luis Estrada
These fights gave you a taste of everything good in boxing.
Regardless of who won, or what had transpired, the fans left fullfilled.
Six good fights- six world champs still in their primes.
Barraza and Sotelo was a good one.
Chacon added a big scalp to his growing collection of ex-champs.
Olivares by execution. (If their was one "sacrificial lamb" on the program, it was Seely.)
Albert Davila looked like a master, as always.
These were competitive fights.
When the decision was announced following the bantamweight title fight, the crowd booed and the cherry bombs began to explode.
My mind flashed back less than five years to 1968. Same place, same result of a close bantamweight title fight that resulted in a riot.
Rose vs. Castillo was one I'd never forget. However, Rose was an Australian who won over a Mexican.
This time both boxers were from below the border, so how pissed could they be?
Things died down quickly. It occured to somebody that Mexico had won.
When George Parnassus put together a major league boxing card at his Forum in Inglewood, Cal from 1968 thru the mid-70's, his boxing promotions were grand, high energy, the best of the best of the best. Not just one good fight, or two, or three. There were times when three world title fights would take place on a Parnassus card, and not multi-alphabet titles, we had only ten weight divisions. Everybody knew who the real champ was, regardless of WBA or WBC, could be found in the Ring Magazine ratings. We actually knew the names of all the champions, and most of the top contenders.
I'll post a few more examples of George Parnassus promotions. And I'll post a few good ones from the Olympic. However, Parnassus's promotions are like that place in East L.A. where they have those grande burritos. You never leave hungry for more.
No title fights on this card. But the action was the best of world class professional boxing.
In fact, it really doesn't get too much better than this:
Dwight Hawkins vs. Frankie Crawford (Cal featherwt title)
Ruben Navarro vs. Arturo Lomeli (No. Amer. Jr. Lightwt title)
Jose Napoles vs. Des Rea
Richie Sue vs. Gil Noriega
Hawkins guilded Crawford.
Lomeli kicked Ruben's ass.
Napoles made Des Rea wish he'd never left Ireland.
And Richie Sue looked great in handing Noriega his first boxing lesson.
I remember these fights like they were yesterday. Frank recalls fights at the Legion. He was pretty young, but he'll never forget those days. Hap will never forget what he saw. And I will never forget the excitement of great boxing I saw in L.A.
