BoxRec

Rick Farris wrote:One Kid . . .

We were all kids once. Some of us were lucky to have good parents, who were strong enough to put us on the right track. Sometimes we strayed, discovered that all the bad things they say would happen if we screwed up, actually would happen. Some of us like to push the envelope, learn the hard way, and such behavior takes a toll. One bad kid can sure do a lot of damage, and it has a ripple effect.

Sometimes home is not a happy place, and we have nobody to tell us what to do, or how to do it. Somebody will.
Hopefully that somebody is the right person, more often than not it's the wrong person. I knew a lot of kids in similar situations when I started boxing, just kids who'd wander off the street and make their way back to the gym behind manager Johnny Flores' garage in Pacoima.

Sometimes they were loaded, like this kid about my age who showed up with two buddies one evening in early 1967. He was loaded. His two buddies stood silent in the corner, as the kid told Johnny Flores that he could fight, and wanted to fight that night. He pointed to me, as I shadowboxed in the ring. "I want to fight him." the kid announced. We were about the same size, same age.

Flores smiled, he turned to me and winked, then turned back to the kid. "You want to box Ricky? OK."
The kid loooked at his friends and smiled big, the friends smiled back. They wanted to see their buddy kick some ass.
We didn't wear headgear, but Flores made the kid wear a mouthpiece. My trainer, Manny Diaz smiled when he put the mouthpiece in the kid's mouth. "You have to wear this, he'll knock your teeth out," I heard .

This was not a first. This happened once in awhile at Johnny's. I'd kicked a couple kid's asses, and my stablemates had too. Johnny never denied a young man a chance to realize his dream, and if trading blows with his boxers was their dream, he'd grant their wish. In the 60's, liability wasn't an issue, and you still could find men sporting a pair of balls.
When men were taught a lesson, they didn't have legal recourse, they just learned a valuable life lesson.

The kid who came in stoned with his buddies got his ass kicked that day. But he was tough, he didn't quit, his body just could not continue. He promised he'd be back the next day, he didn't show. However, about six months later he did show up. This time he came with a trainer, and his hair was cut. He was smiling, confident and clear. He and I would box again, and he had learned a few things during the months since we last slugged it out. His trainer was a good one. We would continue to box off and on, on occasion, many times over the next eight years. He did pretty well for himself, won a couple world titles, and became an L.A. legend. His name is Bobby Chacon.

Like me, Bobby Chacon found a safe haven in a boxing gym. We found a place where we belonged. I was lucky, several men such as Johnny Flores, Bobby Bell, Manny Diaz and Dwight Hawkins provided a solid example. I had great parents, my dad and I would bump heads a lot, my grandfather made it possible for me to box. That saved me. It doesn't matter how much opportunity a person appears to have, it all comes down to influence and choice. A fine line often seperates the best from the worst in life.

I don't know what motivated this thought. Maybe these photos are taking me back. I have a story I want to share with you guys. It's about my heavyweight stablemate, my best buddy. No, it wasn't Jerry Quarry, but our stablemate that was Quarry's sparring partner for the Mathis, Frazier & Chuvalo fights at the Garden. His story is better than Quarry's. Maybe next time?


-Rick Farris

Rick....There has been many unsung heros in the gyms, working with kids, keeping them of the streets, and for the most part their work has been rewarded, as most of the kids turn out ok, living a good life, sure, some have taken a wrong path, but its a small % of them, in my over 60 year of going to the gyms I seen it, seen kids at a small age, seen them grow up and make some thing of them self, if not in boxing, in some thing else, looking back in the work I did in the Jr. program, I know that I been rewarded by the way most of the kids that I match in their jr fights, like you, turned out ok. I'm happy for that....

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!



Jim Jeffries and friends circa 1948 - Christmas trivia: Can anybody (except Rick) identify the girl on the left?

I too want to say Merry Christmas to all my friends here on this great thread.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS"

Frank

To all the Nadine's out there

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDjP0DwnOiQ

Merry Christmas to all my pals here on "West Coast Boxing"


Randy

kikibalt wrote:I too want to say Merry Christmas to all my friends here on this great thread.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS"

Frank

Right back at ya Frank.

kikibalt wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:One Kid . . .

We were all kids once. Some of us were lucky to have good parents, who were strong enough to put us on the right track. Sometimes we strayed, discovered that all the bad things they say would happen if we screwed up, actually would happen. Some of us like to push the envelope, learn the hard way, and such behavior takes a toll. One bad kid can sure do a lot of damage, and it has a ripple effect.

Sometimes home is not a happy place, and we have nobody to tell us what to do, or how to do it. Somebody will.
Hopefully that somebody is the right person, more often than not it's the wrong person. I knew a lot of kids in similar situations when I started boxing, just kids who'd wander off the street and make their way back to the gym behind manager Johnny Flores' garage in Pacoima.

Sometimes they were loaded, like this kid about my age who showed up with two buddies one evening in early 1967. He was loaded. His two buddies stood silent in the corner, as the kid told Johnny Flores that he could fight, and wanted to fight that night. He pointed to me, as I shadowboxed in the ring. "I want to fight him." the kid announced. We were about the same size, same age.

Flores smiled, he turned to me and winked, then turned back to the kid. "You want to box Ricky? OK."
The kid loooked at his friends and smiled big, the friends smiled back. They wanted to see their buddy kick some ass.
We didn't wear headgear, but Flores made the kid wear a mouthpiece. My trainer, Manny Diaz smiled when he put the mouthpiece in the kid's mouth. "You have to wear this, he'll knock your teeth out," I heard .

This was not a first. This happened once in awhile at Johnny's. I'd kicked a couple kid's asses, and my stablemates had too. Johnny never denied a young man a chance to realize his dream, and if trading blows with his boxers was their dream, he'd grant their wish. In the 60's, liability wasn't an issue, and you still could find men sporting a pair of balls.
When men were taught a lesson, they didn't have legal recourse, they just learned a valuable life lesson.

The kid who came in stoned with his buddies got his ass kicked that day. But he was tough, he didn't quit, his body just could not continue. He promised he'd be back the next day, he didn't show. However, about six months later he did show up. This time he came with a trainer, and his hair was cut. He was smiling, confident and clear. He and I would box again, and he had learned a few things during the months since we last slugged it out. His trainer was a good one. We would continue to box off and on, on occasion, many times over the next eight years. He did pretty well for himself, won a couple world titles, and became an L.A. legend. His name is Bobby Chacon.

Like me, Bobby Chacon found a safe haven in a boxing gym. We found a place where we belonged. I was lucky, several men such as Johnny Flores, Bobby Bell, Manny Diaz and Dwight Hawkins provided a solid example. I had great parents, my dad and I would bump heads a lot, my grandfather made it possible for me to box. That saved me. It doesn't matter how much opportunity a person appears to have, it all comes down to influence and choice. A fine line often seperates the best from the worst in life.

I don't know what motivated this thought. Maybe these photos are taking me back. I have a story I want to share with you guys. It's about my heavyweight stablemate, my best buddy. No, it wasn't Jerry Quarry, but our stablemate that was Quarry's sparring partner for the Mathis, Frazier & Chuvalo fights at the Garden. His story is better than Quarry's. Maybe next time?


-Rick Farris

Rick....There has been many unsung heros in the gyms, working with kids, keeping them of the streets, and for the most part their work has been rewarded, as most of the kids turn out ok, living a good life, sure, some have taken a wrong path, but its a small % of them, in my over 60 year of going to the gyms I seen it, seen kids at a small age, seen them grow up and make some thing of them self, if not in boxing, in some thing else, looking back in the work I did in the Jr. program, I know that I been rewarded by the way most of the kids that I match in their jr fights, like you, turned out ok. I'm happy for that....

Frank, I think you are one of the good guys, in boxing and anywhere else. I admire what you have done with your life, working with young kids and helping them find themselves. You didn't do these things for money, you did them because you are a man with heart. It's an honor to be your friend.

Merry Christmas my friend.
Randy

Rick Farris wrote:One Kid . . .

We were all kids once. Some of us were lucky to have good parents, who were strong enough to put us on the right track. Sometimes we strayed, discovered that all the bad things they say would happen if we screwed up, actually would happen. Some of us like to push the envelope, learn the hard way, and such behavior takes a toll. One bad kid can sure do a lot of damage, and it has a ripple effect.

Sometimes home is not a happy place, and we have nobody to tell us what to do, or how to do it. Somebody will.
Hopefully that somebody is the right person, more often than not it's the wrong person. I knew a lot of kids in similar situations when I started boxing, just kids who'd wander off the street and make their way back to the gym behind manager Johnny Flores' garage in Pacoima.

Sometimes they were loaded, like this kid about my age who showed up with two buddies one evening in early 1967. He was loaded. His two buddies stood silent in the corner, as the kid told Johnny Flores that he could fight, and wanted to fight that night. He pointed to me, as I shadowboxed in the ring. "I want to fight him." the kid announced. We were about the same size, same age.

Flores smiled, he turned to me and winked, then turned back to the kid. "You want to box Ricky? OK."
The kid loooked at his friends and smiled big, the friends smiled back. They wanted to see their buddy kick some ass.
We didn't wear headgear, but Flores made the kid wear a mouthpiece. My trainer, Manny Diaz smiled when he put the mouthpiece in the kid's mouth. "You have to wear this, he'll knock your teeth out," I heard .

This was not a first. This happened once in awhile at Johnny's. I'd kicked a couple kid's asses, and my stablemates had too. Johnny never denied a young man a chance to realize his dream, and if trading blows with his boxers was their dream, he'd grant their wish. In the 60's, liability wasn't an issue, and you still could find men sporting a pair of balls.
When men were taught a lesson, they didn't have legal recourse, they just learned a valuable life lesson.

The kid who came in stoned with his buddies got his ass kicked that day. But he was tough, he didn't quit, his body just could not continue. He promised he'd be back the next day, he didn't show. However, about six months later he did show up. This time he came with a trainer, and his hair was cut. He was smiling, confident and clear. He and I would box again, and he had learned a few things during the months since we last slugged it out. His trainer was a good one. We would continue to box off and on, on occasion, many times over the next eight years. He did pretty well for himself, won a couple world titles, and became an L.A. legend. His name is Bobby Chacon.

Like me, Bobby Chacon found a safe haven in a boxing gym. We found a place where we belonged. I was lucky, several men such as Johnny Flores, Bobby Bell, Manny Diaz and Dwight Hawkins provided a solid example. I had great parents, my dad and I would bump heads a lot, my grandfather made it possible for me to box. That saved me. It doesn't matter how much opportunity a person appears to have, it all comes down to influence and choice. A fine line often seperates the best from the worst in life.

I don't know what motivated this thought. Maybe these photos are taking me back. I have a story I want to share with you guys. It's about my heavyweight stablemate, my best buddy. No, it wasn't Jerry Quarry, but our stablemate that was Quarry's sparring partner for the Mathis, Frazier & Chuvalo fights at the Garden. His story is better than Quarry's. Maybe next time?


-Rick Farris

Rick, I think this is one of your finest piece of writing to date. Poignant and touching. Thanks for posting it.

Randy

raylawpc wrote:MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!



Jim Jeffries and friends circa 1948 - Christmas trivia: Can anybody (except Rick) identify the girl on the left?

Same to you Tom, Merry Christmas.

I remember you posted this photo before and you identified but I can't remember what you said, I vaguely recall her initials are D.R. but I'm not sure so I won't spoil the question for you.

Randy

telboy66 wrote:Another great story Rick I haven't been on this thread very long but some of these posts that you guys put up just hold me, there were some many morals in this one. what a shame that there aren't more guys out there ready to guide the young down the right path it seems there are more showing the wrong one.
In the UK there are so many single parent families that lack a father & kids do need that in their life or at least a male roll model to put them on the right track.
I used to run a Judo club for 20 years & kids that were the most disruptive generally came from families without male influence

Merry Christmas to you my friend back in Merry Olde England.

Randy

It's not so merry these days mate with all our forces (like your own ) fighting in foreign lands in a war that none of us can understand, but a happy Christmas to you & all the posters on this forum. Lets hope for a peacfull near year

Randyman wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:One Kid . . .

We were all kids once. Some of us were lucky to have good parents, who were strong enough to put us on the right track. Sometimes we strayed, discovered that all the bad things they say would happen if we screwed up, actually would happen. Some of us like to push the envelope, learn the hard way, and such behavior takes a toll. One bad kid can sure do a lot of damage, and it has a ripple effect.

Sometimes home is not a happy place, and we have nobody to tell us what to do, or how to do it. Somebody will.
Hopefully that somebody is the right person, more often than not it's the wrong person. I knew a lot of kids in similar situations when I started boxing, just kids who'd wander off the street and make their way back to the gym behind manager Johnny Flores' garage in Pacoima.

Sometimes they were loaded, like this kid about my age who showed up with two buddies one evening in early 1967. He was loaded. His two buddies stood silent in the corner, as the kid told Johnny Flores that he could fight, and wanted to fight that night. He pointed to me, as I shadowboxed in the ring. "I want to fight him." the kid announced. We were about the same size, same age.

Flores smiled, he turned to me and winked, then turned back to the kid. "You want to box Ricky? OK."
The kid loooked at his friends and smiled big, the friends smiled back. They wanted to see their buddy kick some ass.
We didn't wear headgear, but Flores made the kid wear a mouthpiece. My trainer, Manny Diaz smiled when he put the mouthpiece in the kid's mouth. "You have to wear this, he'll knock your teeth out," I heard .

This was not a first. This happened once in awhile at Johnny's. I'd kicked a couple kid's asses, and my stablemates had too. Johnny never denied a young man a chance to realize his dream, and if trading blows with his boxers was their dream, he'd grant their wish. In the 60's, liability wasn't an issue, and you still could find men sporting a pair of balls.
When men were taught a lesson, they didn't have legal recourse, they just learned a valuable life lesson.

The kid who came in stoned with his buddies got his ass kicked that day. But he was tough, he didn't quit, his body just could not continue. He promised he'd be back the next day, he didn't show. However, about six months later he did show up. This time he came with a trainer, and his hair was cut. He was smiling, confident and clear. He and I would box again, and he had learned a few things during the months since we last slugged it out. His trainer was a good one. We would continue to box off and on, on occasion, many times over the next eight years. He did pretty well for himself, won a couple world titles, and became an L.A. legend. His name is Bobby Chacon.

Like me, Bobby Chacon found a safe haven in a boxing gym. We found a place where we belonged. I was lucky, several men such as Johnny Flores, Bobby Bell, Manny Diaz and Dwight Hawkins provided a solid example. I had great parents, my dad and I would bump heads a lot, my grandfather made it possible for me to box. That saved me. It doesn't matter how much opportunity a person appears to have, it all comes down to influence and choice. A fine line often seperates the best from the worst in life.

I don't know what motivated this thought. Maybe these photos are taking me back. I have a story I want to share with you guys. It's about my heavyweight stablemate, my best buddy. No, it wasn't Jerry Quarry, but our stablemate that was Quarry's sparring partner for the Mathis, Frazier & Chuvalo fights at the Garden. His story is better than Quarry's. Maybe next time?


-Rick Farris

Rick....There has been many unsung heros in the gyms, working with kids, keeping them of the streets, and for the most part their work has been rewarded, as most of the kids turn out ok, living a good life, sure, some have taken a wrong path, but its a small % of them, in my over 60 year of going to the gyms I seen it, seen kids at a small age, seen them grow up and make some thing of them self, if not in boxing, in some thing else, looking back in the work I did in the Jr. program, I know that I been rewarded by the way most of the kids that I match in their jr fights, like you, turned out ok. I'm happy for that....

Frank, I think you are one of the good guys, in boxing and anywhere else. I admire what you have done with your life, working with young kids and helping them find themselves. You didn't do these things for money, you did them because you are a man with heart. It's an honor to be your friend.

Merry Christmas my friend.
Randy

Thank you Randy for you kind words....

Randyman wrote:

raylawpc wrote:MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!



Jim Jeffries and friends circa 1948 - Christmas trivia: Can anybody (except Rick) identify the girl on the left?

Same to you Tom, Merry Christmas.

I remember you posted this photo before and you identified but I can't remember what you said, I vaguely recall her initials are D.R. but I'm not sure so I won't spoil the question for you.

Randy

I won't tell who the young lady is, but she and my mother were classmates at Burbank High School. Her real first name was Mary Francis, and her high school nickname was "Frannie". I worked with her decades later on a short-lived Aaron Spelling series she starred in briefly in 1980. As a young contract player at MGM, she worked with my grandfather when she was on "loan" to Warner Bros. At the time she was a Girl Scout, and would sell cookies to cast & crew members while working on the production. She is a REAL Hollywood legend, and the stories she can tell about the studio execs of her era (such as L.B. Mayer) are shocking. I like her, of course, I like most of the old school Hollywood legends. I actually have a story about this actress, whom I lit in one of my first jobs as a lighting director. I wish I could get a hold of a photo my mother has. In the photo, the actress and my mother were both members of the Burbank H.S. marching band. Kind of a corny pic of the band, I forget what instrament the actress played. She was married to Eddie Fisher, as was Liz Taylor and Connie Stevens. Well, I guess I pretty much gave up her identity. But I didn't reveal that her daughter Carrie starred in the original Star Wars series.


-Rick Farris

telboy66 wrote:It's not so merry these days mate with all our forces (like your own ) fighting in foreign lands in a war that none of us can understand, but a happy Christmas to you & all the posters on this forum. Lets hope for a peacfull near year

Same to you, Tellboy. Have a happy holiday!

Rick Farris wrote:

Randyman wrote:

raylawpc wrote:MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!



Jim Jeffries and friends circa 1948 - Christmas trivia: Can anybody (except Rick) identify the girl on the left?

Same to you Tom, Merry Christmas.

I remember you posted this photo before and you identified but I can't remember what you said, I vaguely recall her initials are D.R. but I'm not sure so I won't spoil the question for you.

Randy

I won't tell who the young lady is, but she and my mother were classmates at Burbank High School. Her real first name was Mary Francis, and her high school nickname was "Frannie". I worked with her decades later on a short-lived Aaron Spelling series she starred in briefly in 1980. As a young contract player at MGM, she worked with my grandfather when she was on "loan" to Warner Bros. At the time she was a Girl Scout, and would sell cookies to cast & crew members while working on the production. She is a REAL Hollywood legend, and the stories she can tell about the studio execs of her era (such as L.B. Mayer) are shocking. I like her, of course, I like most of the old school Hollywood legends. I actually have a story about this actress, whom I lit in one of my first jobs as a lighting director. I wish I could get a hold of a photo my mother has. In the photo, the actress and my mother were both members of the Burbank H.S. marching band. Kind of a corny pic of the band, I forget what instrament the actress played. She was married to Eddie Fisher, as was Liz Taylor and Connie Stevens. Well, I guess I pretty much gave up her identity. But I didn't reveal that her daughter Carrie starred in the original Star Wars series.


-Rick Farris

Which of the three is D. R.....

Aloha Paradise . . .

This was a short-lived Aaron Spelling production. It starrred Debbie Reynolds and it was kind of like Spellings "Love Boat", but more like the Love Boat in dry dock. Same scenerio, only instead of a boat the series focused around an Island resort.

I'd been in the film business a few years, was a new lighting gaffer. I ended up working on this show with an old cinematographer who used to work with my grandfather. When he learned I was Roy Woodside's grandson, he hired me on the spot. Nepitism works in the film industry, usually the best in the business are somebody's relative.

One of the guest stars of the last episode we shot was another MGM legend, Van Johnson. What a pro!
Having a chance to work with these legends of old Hollywood is always a learning experience, sadly they are all dead or too old to work. I've worked with Bette Davis, Anne Baxter, Debbie Reynolds, Van Johnson, Gene Kelly and others. Theya re always prepared and get things done right.

I knew that my mom and Debbie Reynolds (she was called "Frannie" in those days) had played hop-scotch together on my grandparents driveway when they were little kids. When the old cameraman introduced me to Debbie Reynolds, I took the chance of mentioning my mother went to school with her in Burbank. "Who's your mother?" Reynolds asked.
"My mother was Joan Woodside in those days". A smile came to her face.

"WOODY! Oh my God, how is she doing? We were in sewing class together and the band . . ."

We only shot 13 episodes before the show was cancelled. Too much like Love Boat, as was the next Spelling series I would light, "Hotel". But Hotel, based on the same idea, would take place in San Francisco hotel and was a success.

I remember that Van Johnson was proud that he could cry real tears in a scene without the help of eye drops.
"Iwas MGM trained!" he boasted. "We were trained right, everything, singing, dancing . . . that was the studio system."

After Johnson left the set for the last time, Debbie Reynolds spoke with a few of us after he left.
"He is a very lonely man." Reynolds said of the actor, "He was forced to hide his homosexuality for decades, and he still trys." He lives alone in Paris, and I worry about him. He has been a great friend."

Seeing the photo of Ms. Reynolds with Jim Jeffries was the nicest Xmas present Tom could have given me. I'm going to copy it and sent it to my mother. She will appreciate it. She and Debbie Reynolds are both 78 today.


-Rick Farris

Which of the three is D. R.....
____________________________

She's the one kneeling to Jeff's extreme right (our left).

By the way, just talked to my mother who told me that Debbie Reynolds was Miss Burbank in 1948.
From this she got an acting contract at Warner Bros. (When my grandfather worked with her).
Warners dropped her contract and MGM gave her one. MGM made her a star.
At the time the photo with Jeffries was taken, she had just gotten her contract with Warners.

By the way, my mother appreciated Tom's photo. (and I appreciate it being with Jim Jeffries) We both thank you!


-Rick Farris

Rick, your story brought to mind something from years ago, so I hope you don't mind if I piggyback on your story …….

Life’s Little Lessons

Back in 1993 when I was taking my son Andrew to the Brooklyn Street Gym in Boyle Heights, a guy named Troy started coming around and working out. One of the guys there started training him. The trainer was not a real boxing person but was someone who had trained in the art of Ninjitsu, a Japanese form of Martial Arts but not just limited to fighting. Troy was a black belt in Karate, I can’t remember what style, so in some ways it was a match made in heaven.. Troy was about 25 years old, 6’ 6” and was a Fabio look alike. He looked more like body builder than a fighter., he looked to weigh about 230 or so, and solid. He was a very nice guy despite the fact that he was as vain as hell. Troy and my son hit it off really well.

After a few months of learning the basic fundamentals of boxing, shadowboxing, hitting the bags and getting in shape, the day came when he was going to spar for the first time. His sparring partner that day was to be an 17 year old amateur fighter. I don’t recall his name nor did I ever hear anything about him later. The guy was somewhat small for a heavyweight, not too much taller than me but he was built like a refrigerator. Troy was really fired up that day. He invited his older brother Tory to come and see him spar.

When Andrew was done working out that day we walked over to Siete Mares (A Mexican Fish Taco Joint) and as Andrew and I were eating Troy comes bursting through the door and says to my son and I “I’m sparring today”! “Really?” I said. After he gave the run down on who he going to spar with he held up his fist he said “I’m gonna to kick this guys ass and knock him out”! He started going on and on about what he was going to do. It was starting to get ridiculous. I mentioned that he was just sparring not fighting and he should just go in there and learn but it fell on deaf ears. Andrew took a shot at it too but Troy would not be denied this great victory.

When we were done eating we walked back to the gym and Troy introduced me to his brother Tory as he was putting on his gear. I never saw a more confident guy in my life. I really felt sorry for him. So did Andrew. He stepped into the ring and started bouncing around like Ali. The other kid climbs trough the rope and a crowd gathered around the ring. Big brother Tory was just as confident as Troy.

The bell sounded and Troy came out with everything he had and missed every punch he threw as the kid moved and jab and started to land almost every punch he threw. Troy was done in the first minute. He was staggering and reeling around the gym. He didn’t have a clue. It was a pathetic showing. He had no heart for fighting and he knew it at that very second. The look on his brothers face said it all. What made it worse for Troy was that almost every person in the gym was laughing as loud and as hard as they could. The fight crowd can be heartless sometimes.

Amazingly enough he came out for the second round. He was bloodied and beaten. He was knocked down or fell from exhaustion a few times but offered nothing in return. He looked like he wanted to cry. So did big brother. It was humiliating. I felt sorry for Troy but he made the choice and the other kid had no choice but to return fire.

They stopped it in the middle of the round and some drunk from the small crowd that had gathered, filled with liquid courage, jumped into the ring and shoved Troy. Demanding to fight him at that very moment. Troy just stood there with his head down. He was as ashamed of himself as anyone I have ever seen. He avoided eye contact with Andrew and I as he said goodbye and left the gym. He couldn’t get out fast enough. Like I said, I felt sorry for the guy.

Troy never came back to the gym and I never saw him again. There were several lessons to be learned that day. I hope he learned them.

Bobby, Tony and their families are here, Bobby got in yesterday and Tony today, ready for home made menudo and Juanito's tamales....

kikibalt wrote:Bobby, Tony and their families are here, Bobby got in yesterday and Tony today, ready for home made menudo and Juanito's tamales....

I'm glad your boys are with you Frank. Enjoy your Christmas and your Menudo. This year we are making Pozole. Tomorrow we'll be at my daughter Lori's house.

Randy

Randyman wrote:

kikibalt wrote:Bobby, Tony and their families are here, Bobby got in yesterday and Tony today, ready for home made menudo and Juanito's tamales....

I'm glad your boys are with you Frank. Enjoy your Christmas and your Menudo. This year we are making Pozole. Tomorrow we'll be at my daughter Lori's house.

Randy

You enjoy the holidays too Randy....

telboy66 wrote:Another great story Rick I haven't been on this thread very long but some of these posts that you guys put up just hold me, there were some many morals in this one. what a shame that there aren't more guys out there ready to guide the young down the right path it seems there are more showing the wrong one.
In the UK there are so many single parent families that lack a father & kids do need that in their life or at least a male roll model to put them on the right track.
I used to run a Judo club for 20 years & kids that were the most disruptive generally came from families without male influence

Tellboy . . . Former featherweight contender, Dwight Hawkins, came out of the violent Imperial Courts housing project in Watts. From the time he started making a name for himself as a pro, right up to this very day, Dwight has put guiding youth to a positive place as his lifelong ambition. I won't repeat the text of my biography on "The Hawk", but when I asked him what was most important in the development of youth, he quickly answered "A home and family is most important." He continued, "When I was living in the projects, many kids had just one parent in the home, today, many of the kids I work with have no parents. The gang becomes their family."

What you mentioned about your Judo club was very interesting. Recently, a friend of mine from the WBHOF invited me to help coach his youth boxing team in my old home town. I was not so disappointed about the behavior of the kids, but to the weak influence of the coaches. Kids want and need discipline in order to function in society. Today, in America, it is punishable by law to discipline your children as kids were when I grew up. I was never beaten severly, but I knew what a belt felt like across my ass and it left an impression. It was not brutality, and it did not cause injury, but it it introduced me to a no-BS course on what awited in life if I "chose" to do the wrong thing. What's right & wrong? My father left no doubt in my mind. Some parents have gone to far, and that's why we have the laws we have, but inh a sense, these laws are creating a greater monster?

I enjoy your posts, as they reveal what's going on across the pond. I have family there I don't know, but many friends whom are very close. Please continue to share anything on your mind, this is much more than a Classic American West Coast Boxing thread.


-Rick Farris

Randyman wrote:Rick, your story brought to mind something from years ago, so I hope you don't mind if I piggyback on your story …….

Life’s Little Lessons

Back in 1993 when I was taking my son Andrew to the Brooklyn Street Gym in Boyle Heights, a guy named Troy started coming around and working out. One of the guys there started training him. The trainer was not a real boxing person but was someone who had trained in the art of Ninjitsu, a Japanese form of Martial Arts but not just limited to fighting. Troy was a black belt in Karate, I can’t remember what style, so in some ways it was a match made in heaven.. Troy was about 25 years old, 6’ 6” and was a Fabio look alike. He looked more like body builder than a fighter., he looked to weigh about 230 or so, and solid. He was a very nice guy despite the fact that he was as vain as hell. Troy and my son hit it off really well.

After a few months of learning the basic fundamentals of boxing, shadowboxing, hitting the bags and getting in shape, the day came when he was going to spar for the first time. His sparring partner that day was to be an 17 year old amateur fighter. I don’t recall his name nor did I ever hear anything about him later. The guy was somewhat small for a heavyweight, not too much taller than me but he was built like a refrigerator. Troy was really fired up that day. He invited his older brother Tory to come and see him spar.

When Andrew was done working out that day we walked over to Siete Mares (A Mexican Fish Taco Joint) and as Andrew and I were eating Troy comes bursting through the door and says to my son and I “I’m sparring today”! “Really?” I said. After he gave the run down on who he going to spar with he held up his fist he said “I’m gonna to kick this guys ass and knock him out”! He started going on and on about what he was going to do. It was starting to get ridiculous. I mentioned that he was just sparring not fighting and he should just go in there and learn but it fell on deaf ears. Andrew took a shot at it too but Troy would not be denied this great victory.

When we were done eating we walked back to the gym and Troy introduced me to his brother Tory as he was putting on his gear. I never saw a more confident guy in my life. I really felt sorry for him. So did Andrew. He stepped into the ring and started bouncing around like Ali. The other kid climbs trough the rope and a crowd gathered around the ring. Big brother Tory was just as confident as Troy.

The bell sounded and Troy came out with everything he had and missed every punch he threw as the kid moved and jab and started to land almost every punch he threw. Troy was done in the first minute. He was staggering and reeling around the gym. He didn’t have a clue. It was a pathetic showing. He had no heart for fighting and he knew it at that very second. The look on his brothers face said it all. What made it worse for Troy was that almost every person in the gym was laughing as loud and as hard as they could. The fight crowd can be heartless sometimes.

Amazingly enough he came out for the second round. He was bloodied and beaten. He was knocked down or fell from exhaustion a few times but offered nothing in return. He looked like he wanted to cry. So did big brother. It was humiliating. I felt sorry for Troy but he made the choice and the other kid had no choice but to return fire.

They stopped it in the middle of the round and some drunk from the small crowd that had gathered, filled with liquid courage, jumped into the ring and shoved Troy. Demanding to fight him at that very moment. Troy just stood there with his head down. He was as ashamed of himself as anyone I have ever seen. He avoided eye contact with Andrew and I as he said goodbye and left the gym. He couldn’t get out fast enough. Like I said, I felt sorry for the guy.

Troy never came back to the gym and I never saw him again. There were several lessons to be learned that day. I hope he learned them.

Randy . . . This is a great story. It was also a great lesson for your son (although Andrew didn't need it.)
I know who produced Andrew De La O . . . the BEST!

-Rick Farris

On Saturday Tony is going to be on the thread, if you want to do a "G & A" thing with him let me know and I'll set the time.

kikibalt wrote:Bobby, Tony and their families are here, Bobby got in yesterday and Tony today, ready for home made menudo and Juanito's tamales....

Con pata!
Frank, I wish you and your family a great Christmas. I have been thinking of Frankie Jr., Tony & Bobby in recent days.
There are so many brilliant stories that must be told, the Baltazar boys (as individuals) are three of them.
You have been blessed. Your family certifies that. You deserve what you have, your Connie is a wonderful woman.
No family escapes challenges, pain or loss. But a real family pulls together the best they can.
Give my best to the three boys who will one day be part of stories I write (hopefully), and to James & Linda, as well.

You were part of a small machine that reaped great results for youth in L.A. . . . The Junior Golden Gloves.
I remember you exactly as you were. Thin, healthy, lots of hair, smart, focused and strong.
You were the "kid" compared to Flores and Louie and Jake. They were all in their 50's, you were barely thirty!
You were the generation "between" the old guard and the kids.
I've never heard a negative word in relation to Frank Baltazar.
I was honored to be a part of your receiving the first Johnny Flores Award.
God cut Johnny Flores and Frank Baltazar from the same piece of cloth.

-Rick Farris