BoxRec

Nate Brooks getting ko by Rudy Garcia...1955

Irish nursing home

A Mexican family was considering putting their grandfather (Abuelo) in a nursing home. All the Hispanic facilities were completely full so they had to put him in an Irish home. After a few weeks in the Irish facility, they came to visit grandpa.

"How do you like it here?" asks the grandson..

"It's wonderful! Everyone here is so courteous and respectful," says grandpa.

"We're so happy for you. We were worried that this was the wrong place for you. You know, since you are a little different from everyone."

"Oh, no! Let me tell you about how wonderfully they treat the residents," Abuelo says with a big smile, "There's a musician here -- he's 85 years old. He hasn't played the violin in 20 years and everyone still calls him 'Maestro'!"

"There is a judge in here -- he's 95 years old. He hasn't been on the bench in 30 years and everyone still calls him 'Your Honor'!"

"There's a dentist here -- 90 years old. He hasn't fixed a tooth for 25 years and everyone still calls him 'Doctor'!"

"And me -- I haven't had sex for 35 years and they still call me 'The Fucki=g Mexican'!"

kikibalt wrote:Irish nursing home

A Mexican family was considering putting their grandfather (Abuelo) in a nursing home. All the Hispanic facilities were completely full so they had to put him in an Irish home. After a few weeks in the Irish facility, they came to visit grandpa.

"How do you like it here?" asks the grandson..

"It's wonderful! Everyone here is so courteous and respectful," says grandpa.

"We're so happy for you. We were worried that this was the wrong place for you. You know, since you are a little different from everyone."

"Oh, no! Let me tell you about how wonderfully they treat the residents," Abuelo says with a big smile, "There's a musician here -- he's 85 years old. He hasn't played the violin in 20 years and everyone still calls him 'Maestro'!"

"There is a judge in here -- he's 95 years old. He hasn't been on the bench in 30 years and everyone still calls him 'Your Honor'!"

"There's a dentist here -- 90 years old. He hasn't fixed a tooth for 25 years and everyone still calls him 'Doctor'!"

"And me -- I haven't had sex for 35 years and they still call me 'The Fucki=g Mexican'!"

Classic

Albert "Superfly" Sandoval vs Alberto Morales

Tony Baltazar vs Julio Alfonso

Frankie "Too Sweet" Jennings . . .

Hey guys, a few weeks back, the name Frankie "Too Sweet" Jennings was mentioned on this thread. I remember Jennings very well, and I know Frank does, as well.

Last week, just be for reading the names of boxing personalities who'd passed away during the past year, Julian Eget informed me that "Too Sweet" had passed away less than two weeks prior.

This guy was so typical of the fighters we saw at the Olympic, during the 60's & 70's. Jennings was a slick, hard hitting welter who shook up light heavyweights in gym workouts at the Main St. Gym. He had talent and guts, but came up just a little short of guys like Ernie Lopez, Hedgeman Lewis, etc. He would fight everybody hard & cagey, and he'd leave a mark on his opponents, win or lose.

He had his straightened black hair wrapped in a do-rag when he worked out, he always wore white shoes.

Those weekly club fights, the ones that showcased guys like Frankie "Too Sweet" Jennings, are gone for ever. Time moves on and boxing always moves with it, not always for the best.

R.I.P. "Too Sweet"!



-Rick

Sometimes you watch a fight and you see a guy reach deep inside himself and pull out a victory when you thought he had no chance. Years ago at the Jai Lai Palace I saw a fighter making his debut come from way back to TKO his opponent in the 2nd round. The fighter making his first start was a bantamweight named Chuy Chavez. It was a 4 round prelim against an opponent who was winless after a few fights. No one gets worked up for these fights unless you know one of the guys or he's family. I remember Chavez was from TJ so I heard more clapping when they announced his name than for his opponent.

The fight starts fast with both boys rushing into each other swinging wildly. When you see this,you're excited,but realize that any skill they've been taught to them by their trainers has been forgotten. They want to impress so badly that pacing and looking for openings never enters their minds. It's pure adrenal instincts. They're flailing away and Chavez is caught with a hook he never sees and falls flat on his back. He pops up takes a step,but almost pitches forward. He's full of fight,but he's hurt. I think he figures if he starts fighting again everything will be all right. His opponent is all over him swinging wildly.Nothing straight thrown by either guy. Chavez goes down again from an accumulation of punches on his arms,shoulders and the top of his head. He's breathing hard and he's reddening up.Chavez is on all fours looking at his corner. He gets up slower this time only because he's starting to drain. He shakes his head.
Well if the crowd was thinking of going to get a beer,they weren't moving now. They're screaming for Chavez to hold on,but Chavez doesn't want to concede nothing and goes back into it with his head down winging away. He catches his opponent with a swing and the guy backs up. Now he's hurt. The round ain't half over and both boys have expended a lot in the tank already. The other guy backs into the ropes and Chavez reels forward chin sticking out and collides with an uppercut. Chavez begins to sink again,but tries to clutch on to his opponent and bring him down with him. The referee struggles to pry them apart. The ref wants to start another count against Chavez,but he plows ahead sweat pouring from his reddened face. He's so exasperated. His face is struggling and crying from the lack of all this effort he's put into this so far. It's not a thing of hanging in there. He doesn't want to survive. He wants to win. There's that gooey saliva hanging from his nose and mouth and every time he gets hit, the saliva swings back and forth in the same direction that his head is getting punched around. The bell rings. His corner leaps through the ropes throwing wet sponges in his face. They towel off his head and the saliva and are yelling at him. One of his guys grabs his cheeks and tries to snap him to life .

Chavez is still on his stool when the bell rings and the ref is agitated that the corner hasn't cleared. Chavez's guys push him out, and the strategy hasn't changed for both boys. The crowd is screaming like it's the fight of the year. Chavez connects with a wild one,but like that, the other guy's wild one opens a cut on Chavez's eye. Blood pours down Chavez's cheek like a busted pipe. Now blood and sweat are flying all over the ring and everyone in the first three rows. But I think the cut is what turned the fight around. The blood gets into Chavez's mouth and he starts to roar like a wild animal. He throws himself at the other guy hitting him with elbows,gloves,the back of his hands,punching and hammering on anything he can hit. Chavez is wrenching and crying. His eyes are closed. It's like he wants to die in there if he has to win. The crowd ,including myself,wants to get in the ring with Chavez and hit the other guy with him,but now the other guy is beginning to sink. His leg twitches. It's like his leg has given himself away. It's only going to get worse for this guy and the crowd senses it.Chavez is punching with both arms simultaneously. There's no form. Only a desperate primal strength that he's imposing on his opponent. Chavez has prevailed. He's broken this guy when this guy couldn't break him. His opponent knows what is happening. Chavez has him through the ropes. The guy's head is bent back. Chavez is punching his throat. Chavez is holding him through the ropes with his left hand and swinging like a windmill with his right. Some of his punches are hitting the ring rope. Chavez is still grunting everytime time he throws a punch. His will has built itself to a powerfull surge of unrelentless pounding. It's over. It's over. The other guy's corner jumps into the ring. Chavez is still holding him and hitting him. The bell is ringing and ringing. The crowd is screaming and now we're crying. The ref has to shove his body between to get Chavez off this guy. Chavez goes running to his corner. He's crying again. The other guy is still half draped through the ropes.

People are throwing money into the ring like it's the fountain at Lourdes. Not just coins are rocketing into the ring ,but bills rolled up bouncing on the canvas like hail stones. They're carrying Chavez around the ring. His face is red . His eye has closed. He looks like he's going to faint from exhilaration. He's looking up . His arms are extended out. Victory. A victory when it looked like it was impossible.

There's an old expression in Mexico. "If the task is difficult,I will get it done. If it is impossible,it will just take me longer."

That night I thought Chavez was going to run out of time.
I didn't think he had a chance. He must have remembered that old expression.

Scar,

I am sorry to tell you that I never knew anything about the fighters that I was going to be fighting until the bell rang for the first round. The reason is that because most of the time my managers had a hard time finding me an opponent and when they did find one it was a last minute deal. Therefore there was no time to figure out a strategy. It didn't really matter who I was fighting or what their style was. I always would adapt my style to any opponent I had in front of me. The truth is that I never saw any of my opponents fight previously except for Chango Carmona. My manager and I saw him spar for only one round and that was enough for me to know how I was going to fight him. I had seen a number of fighters fight in my weight division but I never fought any of them.

Dago,

I want to thank you for painting a portrait of me to display at the Lazaro Cardenas Cultural Center in Jiquilpan. What an honor it is for me. Let me know how the painting is coming along.

El Gato

BALCO founder says Shane Mosley knew he was using steroids

Victor Conte, sued by boxer for slander last week, says Mosley was not deceived about what he was given before 2003 victory over Oscar De La Hoya.

By Lance Pugmire, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
April 9, 2008

BALCO founder Victor Conte on Tuesday said former world champion boxer Shane Mosley knew "exactly and precisely what he was doing" when he engaged in a doping program before his 2003 victory over Oscar De La Hoya.

Mosley last week sued Conte for slander and libel after Conte said he was planning a new book that would "set the record straight" on Mosley's knowledge about using the designer steroids known as "the clear" and "the cream," and the blood-doping drug EPO.

Mosley maintains in the lawsuit that Conte told him "all of the products recommended . . . were entirely legal and appropriate."

But Conte said Tuesday that Mosley knew he was being given steroids.

"I didn't deceive him; he knew what he was taking and I told him that before he took it," said Conte, who served four months in federal prison for steroid distribution and money laundering after the 2003 raid of his Burlingame, Calif., Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative resulted in the discovery of detailed doping calendars of elite athletes.

One of those athletes was Olympic sprinter Marion Jones, who in October ended years of denials and acknowledged she had used steroids and lied to federal agents looking into BALCO. She was sentenced to six months in prison and retired in disgrace.

In Mosley's case, Conte says he has access to the boxer's doping calendars and lab results, which he said help support his claims.

"I told him it was an undetectable steroid that wouldn't show up in a test," Conte said.

Pomona's Mosley, 36, had beaten his Southern California rival De La Hoya by split decision in 2000 before landing that 2003 rematch.

Conte said his doping calendars for Mosley, known in the documents by the initials "S.M.," show the boxer started using "the clear," a liquid steroid dropped under the tongue, and EPO, which was injected into Mosley's stomach area, on July 26, 2003 -- exactly seven weeks before the De La Hoya rematch.

Mosley first used the drugs with Conte, BALCO vice president James Valente and Mosley's conditioning trainer Derryl Hudson watching in Conte's office, Conte said. Hudson is suing Mosley for defamation in U.S. District Court in Los Angeles, and the trainer's attorney Tuesday declined to comment about Conte's claims. Valente could not be reached Tuesday.

Conte said his records show Mosley flew to Oakland on July 26, 2003, and was transported to BALCO headquarters by limousine. The boxer also had a "baseline" blood draw taken at nearby Mills Peninsula Health Services, Conte said.

Reinforcing that Mosley was being given "more than vitamins," Conte said, the calendar showed the boxer supplemented the EPO with iron pills, Vitamin E, folic acid and Vitamin B-12. Records show that Mosley had taken six EPO injections before a second blood draw on Aug. 8, 2003, at Bear Valley Community Healthcare District in Big Bear Lake, Conte said.

A lab test for Mosley called a hematocrit, which measures the number and size of red blood cells, showed a sharp increase, Conte said.

"He was increasing the percentage of red blood cells with every breath, increasing the number of oxygen molecules to his muscle tissue, which means instead of having shortness of breath during a long workout, your stamina is enhanced," Conte said. "We had talked about the benefits of oxygen uptake. . . . We talked about the benefit of EPO being at the end of the fight, with his extra stamina and endurance."

Mosley has acknowledged injecting himself in the stomach area and paying for BALCO products -- Conte said the bill was $1,650 with a $900 cash payment for EPO -- but the boxer maintains he believed he was using legal vitamins.

"You think vitamins cost $900 a month?" Conte asked.

In the Sept. 13, 2003, rematch against De La Hoya, all three judges awarded Mosley a 10-9 decision in the final four rounds, and Mosley won his third world title by unanimous decision, 115-113, on all three scorecards.

Conte says his calendars show Mosley received EPO through Sept. 8, 2003, and that he took eight doses of "the clear," and seven doses of "the cream" until Aug. 31, 2003.

"Yes, I watched that fight, and I remember him winning the late rounds and thinking, 'That was an edge,' " Conte said. "Shane deserves all the credit for his victory, but did I feel a part of it? In a certain regard, I guess I did."

Mosley, currently training in Big Bear for a May 31 fight against Zab Judah, was unavailable for comment Tuesday, but his wife and manager, Jin, said, "Shane never had a doping calendar or never knowingly took steroids. He was not taking anything labeled 'steroid.' "

De La Hoya, whose Golden Boy Promotions company now promotes Mosley's fights, was not available for comment Tuesday.

Mosley's attorney, Judd Burstein, said in the lawsuit that Conte's claims are a "publicity campaign to maximize sales" of his book.

Reached on Tuesday, Burstein said, "The calendars don't prove anything. Shane didn't know what he was taking, and that's completely believable to anyone who knows Shane. He wouldn't know a hematocrit from a chromatic print."

Conte said Mosley's denials make this case "Marion Jones Part 2. It's not OK for him to say he was duped, misled or deceived."

[email protected]

Conte is already plugging his new book. Mosley actually lost the 2003 fight to De La Hoya but got a 'Las Vegas' verdict - a genuinely bad verdict (and I'm no fan of Oscar).

Dago,

I want to thank you for painting a portrait of me to display at the Lazaro Cardenas Cultural Center in Jiquilpan. What an honor it is for me. Let me know how the painting is coming along.

El Gato[/quote]

Gato
I haven't started it yet,but I'm going to use the photo Frank posted of you in your stance in front of the mirror. You're not looking in the mirror,but sideways to it. Great shot. You'll be there with "Mantequilla" Napoles and Kid Azteca. Not to mention Pedro Infante,Maria Felix,Zapata,Pancho Villa,Cantinflas,Lazaro Cardenes,and Benito Juarez. Just to name a few. You'll be in good company.

I'll tell ya' something buddy. I can sit at the Cultural Center all day watching my grand daughter teach dancing,do a little painting,and talking to Conrado. Get an ice cream across from the plaza,go over to the library and read,get a shave and a haircut. Drop by my nephew's garage and watch the guys work on cars. By the way,I've got a Nissan Quest Van in storage,if you need something to drive around in. Another thing I like to do is visit all the" pueblitos" in the area. Actually my wife was born on top of that mountain that looks down on Jiquilpan in a pueblito called Paderones. I'm tellin' ya' the whole town is gone. The only one there is my wife's aunt. She owns a little aborrotes. She stands there wearing these combat boots,an old dress and she'll talk your head off. No one goes up there. But her conversation gets old fast because all she talks about is how many people she knows that have died. But I can always go down the mountain back into town and find a pretty girl to flirt with.

kikibalt wrote:BALCO founder says Shane Mosley knew he was using steroids

Victor Conte, sued by boxer for slander last week, says Mosley was not deceived about what he was given before 2003 victory over Oscar De La Hoya.

By Lance Pugmire, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
April 9, 2008

BALCO founder Victor Conte on Tuesday said former world champion boxer Shane Mosley knew "exactly and precisely what he was doing" when he engaged in a doping program before his 2003 victory over Oscar De La Hoya.

Mosley last week sued Conte for slander and libel after Conte said he was planning a new book that would "set the record straight" on Mosley's knowledge about using the designer steroids known as "the clear" and "the cream," and the blood-doping drug EPO.

Mosley maintains in the lawsuit that Conte told him "all of the products recommended . . . were entirely legal and appropriate."

But Conte said Tuesday that Mosley knew he was being given steroids.

"I didn't deceive him; he knew what he was taking and I told him that before he took it," said Conte, who served four months in federal prison for steroid distribution and money laundering after the 2003 raid of his Burlingame, Calif., Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative resulted in the discovery of detailed doping calendars of elite athletes.

One of those athletes was Olympic sprinter Marion Jones, who in October ended years of denials and acknowledged she had used steroids and lied to federal agents looking into BALCO. She was sentenced to six months in prison and retired in disgrace.

In Mosley's case, Conte says he has access to the boxer's doping calendars and lab results, which he said help support his claims.

"I told him it was an undetectable steroid that wouldn't show up in a test," Conte said.

Pomona's Mosley, 36, had beaten his Southern California rival De La Hoya by split decision in 2000 before landing that 2003 rematch.

Conte said his doping calendars for Mosley, known in the documents by the initials "S.M.," show the boxer started using "the clear," a liquid steroid dropped under the tongue, and EPO, which was injected into Mosley's stomach area, on July 26, 2003 -- exactly seven weeks before the De La Hoya rematch.

Mosley first used the drugs with Conte, BALCO vice president James Valente and Mosley's conditioning trainer Derryl Hudson watching in Conte's office, Conte said. Hudson is suing Mosley for defamation in U.S. District Court in Los Angeles, and the trainer's attorney Tuesday declined to comment about Conte's claims. Valente could not be reached Tuesday.

Conte said his records show Mosley flew to Oakland on July 26, 2003, and was transported to BALCO headquarters by limousine. The boxer also had a "baseline" blood draw taken at nearby Mills Peninsula Health Services, Conte said.

Reinforcing that Mosley was being given "more than vitamins," Conte said, the calendar showed the boxer supplemented the EPO with iron pills, Vitamin E, folic acid and Vitamin B-12. Records show that Mosley had taken six EPO injections before a second blood draw on Aug. 8, 2003, at Bear Valley Community Healthcare District in Big Bear Lake, Conte said.

A lab test for Mosley called a hematocrit, which measures the number and size of red blood cells, showed a sharp increase, Conte said.

"He was increasing the percentage of red blood cells with every breath, increasing the number of oxygen molecules to his muscle tissue, which means instead of having shortness of breath during a long workout, your stamina is enhanced," Conte said. "We had talked about the benefits of oxygen uptake. . . . We talked about the benefit of EPO being at the end of the fight, with his extra stamina and endurance."

Mosley has acknowledged injecting himself in the stomach area and paying for BALCO products -- Conte said the bill was $1,650 with a $900 cash payment for EPO -- but the boxer maintains he believed he was using legal vitamins.

"You think vitamins cost $900 a month?" Conte asked.

In the Sept. 13, 2003, rematch against De La Hoya, all three judges awarded Mosley a 10-9 decision in the final four rounds, and Mosley won his third world title by unanimous decision, 115-113, on all three scorecards.

Conte says his calendars show Mosley received EPO through Sept. 8, 2003, and that he took eight doses of "the clear," and seven doses of "the cream" until Aug. 31, 2003.

"Yes, I watched that fight, and I remember him winning the late rounds and thinking, 'That was an edge,' " Conte said. "Shane deserves all the credit for his victory, but did I feel a part of it? In a certain regard, I guess I did."

Mosley, currently training in Big Bear for a May 31 fight against Zab Judah, was unavailable for comment Tuesday, but his wife and manager, Jin, said, "Shane never had a doping calendar or never knowingly took steroids. He was not taking anything labeled 'steroid.' "

De La Hoya, whose Golden Boy Promotions company now promotes Mosley's fights, was not available for comment Tuesday.

Mosley's attorney, Judd Burstein, said in the lawsuit that Conte's claims are a "publicity campaign to maximize sales" of his book.

Reached on Tuesday, Burstein said, "The calendars don't prove anything. Shane didn't know what he was taking, and that's completely believable to anyone who knows Shane. He wouldn't know a hematocrit from a chromatic print."

Conte said Mosley's denials make this case "Marion Jones Part 2. It's not OK for him to say he was duped, misled or deceived."

[email protected]

Hey Frank
You sure you got this right? I heard when they asked Mosley if he took steroids,he answered"I never took no stereos."

scartissue wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

You guys remember this fighter?.

A couple of years back when Ring mag was doing there 100 greatest punchers of all-time, I was so PO'd because they left this man out. For the most part they got it right when they graced the pages with Rodolfo Gonzalez, Pajarito Moreno, Bob Satterfield and Battling Torres. This showed they knew what power was. However, then they put in guys which seemed like it was a popularity contest. I mean, Salvador Sanchez and Jersey Joe Walcott were counter-punchers. Ingemar Johannson, Roy Jones and Leotis Martin making the list over Carlos Hernandez? This guy's power was chilling. Knockouts over Joe Brown, Teo Cruz, Davey Moore, Kenny Lane, Bunny Grant, Alfredo Urbina and Paolo Rosi and not to mention even in losing efforts to Jose Napoles and Nicolino Loche, he had them both on the seat of their pants before losing. This guy could bang!

Scartissue

I only knew this guy from a loss, right at the end of his career, to Ken Buchanan in London.
Didn't know he was such a banger in his prime.

kikibalt wrote:

Win or lose, this kid was never in a bad fight. Pure box office.

bennie wrote:

scartissue wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

You guys remember this fighter?.

A couple of years back when Ring mag was doing there 100 greatest punchers of all-time, I was so PO'd because they left this man out. For the most part they got it right when they graced the pages with Rodolfo Gonzalez, Pajarito Moreno, Bob Satterfield and Battling Torres. This showed they knew what power was. However, then they put in guys which seemed like it was a popularity contest. I mean, Salvador Sanchez and Jersey Joe Walcott were counter-punchers. Ingemar Johannson, Roy Jones and Leotis Martin making the list over Carlos Hernandez? This guy's power was chilling. Knockouts over Joe Brown, Teo Cruz, Davey Moore, Kenny Lane, Bunny Grant, Alfredo Urbina and Paolo Rosi and not to mention even in losing efforts to Jose Napoles and Nicolino Loche, he had them both on the seat of their pants before losing. This guy could bang!

Scartissue

I only knew this guy from a loss, right at the end of his career, to Ken Buchanan in London.
Didn't know he was such a banger in his prime.

This guy was the real deal when it came to raw punching power.

Who is this?

bennie wrote:

Who is this?

Wow, this is a toughie if it's a quiz. Facially, from what I can see it looks alot like either Boone Kirkman or Freddie Mills.

Scartissue

scartissue wrote:

bennie wrote:

Who is this?

Wow, this is a toughie if it's a quiz. Facially, from what I can see it looks alot like either Boone Kirkman or Freddie Mills.

Scartissue

I say Mills.

Its a tough one.
Maybe one of the Finnegan bros.?

That was annoyingly quick:


RENTON -- The man walks into the Yankee Grill and Roaster near the intersection of Interstate 405 and State Route 167, and he can't be Boone Kirkman. There's not a mark on him. He's too robust, upright, intact, to have been one of Seattle's most revered boxers, a heavyweight everyone called "Boom Boom." Upon closer inspection, there's a hearing aid in his left ear. Yet he's not at all convinced the acoustic tumor removed and near deafness that resulted was punch-related. Plus, he just turned 60. Everyone should look so hearty after getting up in the morning and going the distance for a full six decades.
These days, Kirkman climbs out of bed at 4:30 a.m. and, after taking a shower, drinking coffee and reading the Post-Intelligencer as routine, arrives at work two hours later. He's a truck driver for Boeing, fighting traffic and nothing more. He makes deliveries to the Renton plant, Everett plant, Boeing Field and South Park, transporting sensitive instruments that balance jet wings. It's a different sort of roadwork.
"Eight-for-eight and get out the gate," he quips of a busy shift that ends at 3 p.m.
It's been 27 years since his last fight -- a fourth-round knockout victory of the not so aptly named Charles Atlas at the Seattle Center Arena. There were no belated comebacks and no regrets.
After 75 professional and amateur bouts, Kirkman knows he bailed from the ring at the proper time. He couldn't dodge the fierce left hook of George Foreman or Ken Norton's pounding right uppercut, but he appears to have sidestepped the sport's worst knockout punch.
"I see all those old fighters who have boxer's dementia," Kirkman said, naming off Floyd Patterson, Al Hostak, Dick Wagner and the late Harry "Kid" Matthews. "It's kind of scary. I feel pretty lucky. I have my health. I have a good memory and everything. At least for now."
For more than a dozen years, Kirkman had the Northwest bobbing and weaving with his every punch, if not personally feeling the effects of each one that rocked his thick frame.
"Boone was a crowd-pleaser, and that's what people liked," said Pat McMurtry, 73, former Tacoma heavyweight boxer and a referee for several of Kirkman's bouts. "He drew real well, gate-wise. He was good for boxing."
Kirkman gave Seattle a big-league draw before the NBA brought the Sonics to the city, regularly filling the Coliseum with adoring fans. A crowd of 11,306 showed up in the summer of 1967 for his first important bout against Eddie Machen. Another 13,711 saw him beat Doug Jones a few months later and avenge his first pro defeat. He had 10,072 ringside when he defeated Jimmy Ellis in '73, 11,039 when he lost to Norton a year later.
Kirkman was so popular, people used to crowd into Renton's Melrose Tavern, which he co-owned, just to watch him skip rope and hit the speed bag late at night.
"It was fun until about 11:30, when all the weirdoes started coming in," he said.
There were other difficulties: "People used to smoke in the bar and, after I worked out, I could hardly breathe."
He was this engaging kid from Renton, so handsome and humble, with close ties to his family. His father, brother and sister worked at the Melrose. His niece is a hostess there now, with the place converted into a steakhouse.
Kirkman regularly emerged from his downtown Renton home, yelled "Popsicles!" and then doled out the frozen treats to a dozen neighborhood kids who came running on cue.
"Boone, in the ring, was an animal," said Dick Francisco, 82, a former heavyweight boxer and long-time trainer who lives on Whidbey Island. "He was tough, had the determination and had the killer instinct. Put all of that together, being a gentleman besides, and that's what champions are made of."
Kirkman became a boxer for resourceful and romantic reasons. He had a few minor scrapes and his older brother, Steve, used to good-naturedly knock him around, breaking Boone's collarbone once by knocking him into a piano stool; his father, Oehm, took him to see the local Golden Gloves bouts; and he was mesmerized by the Paul Newman boxing movie, "Someone Up There Likes Me."
At 14, Kirkman rode the bus after school from Renton to the Cherry Street gym in downtown Seattle. His interest in the sport lagged after he got cut inside the mouth practically every day, and took off when he started winning Golden Gloves events and was presented with souvenir jackets, which he still owns, in Portland, Tacoma and Seattle.
On March 26, 1965, he became an overnight sensation by winning the national AAU heavyweight championship in Toledo, Ohio. He had three fights, three knockouts.
Kirkman signed with flamboyant Seattle fight manager Jack Hurley, probably not an ideal coupling. He had a basic goal in mind.
"I always had it in my heart, that even if I didn't win, I just wanted to have a shot at the title," he said. "My plan was to fight Ali."
Kirkman twice was ranked seventh among the world's heavyweights by Ring Magazine, even put on the cover of that publication in 1968, considered an industry badge of honor.
He was 22-1 with 18 knockouts and full of great hope -- Great White Hope, as boxing's politically incorrect suggested at the time -- when he stepped into the ring with an undefeated Foreman at New York's Madison Square Garden on Nov. 18, 1970.
It was a disaster. The fight lasted just three minutes and 41 seconds, barely two rounds. Kirkman was knocked down three times. Foreman rushed from his corner at the opening bell to land a first, rather unorthodox, blow.
"He shoved me with one hand and hit me with the other," Kirkman recalled. "I landed on my butt in the middle of the ring. You see old fight films of a guy looking up at the lights. That was me."
The outcome was such a letdown, coupled with a collarbone injury suffered in a subsequent training session, that Kirkman didn't fight for two more years. He parted badly with Hurley. They had argued over sparring partners; three had been offered and rejected in New York, with the fight manager settling for someone else, concerned about cost-cutting measures. Money issues were brought up.
"A basketball player gets more in fines for a punch than I got," Kirkman said.
The loser's cut had been $80,000, counting gate receipts from a crowd of 18,036 and national closed-circuit TV revenues, with the Foreman bout serving as the front end of a doubleheader that included a Joe Frazier-Bob Foster fight from Detroit. Kirkman received less than half of the $80,000 and just $2,500 of the telecast money.
"When Hurley had Boone, he wasn't giving Boone his fullest attention, that's my personal opinion," Francisco said of the promoter, who died in 1972. "I think if Boone had gotten more of the real Hurley, the vibrant and energetic Hurley, he would have gone much further."
Kirkman regained momentum and his following with 10 consecutive victories before catastrophe struck again. This was worse than Foreman.
In Dallas in '74, he took on Al Jones. The guy was 4-18. Kirkman knocked him down four times in the first two rounds. Somehow Kirkman ended up on his back, unconscious, 15 seconds into the third round. It was the only time in his career the lights would go out completely. It was the biggest upset in boxing that year.
"I came out with my head down and he threw a wild right," he said. "I remember getting hit and falling. When I hit the canvas, it was like whiplash and that's what knocked me out. I went down for a tune-up fight and I got tuned out."
Kirkman would lose four in a row, counting close ones to Ron Lyle and Randy Neumann, and one more-lopsided one to Norton,
It was enough to cripple his career. Offers started to dwindle, significant paydays to disappear. In '75, he was asked to fight Larry Holmes in the Philippines, as part of the undercard for the "Thrilla in Manila," featuring the Muhammad Ali-Joe Frazier title fight. He normally received $10,000 for a fight. His largest cut had been $25,000. This one guaranteed just $5,000.
"It was embarrassing how much money they offered," he said. "I said it was a joke."
Kirkman finally agreed to take part in an exhibition in Toronto, as one of five guys fighting three rounds each in consecutive fashion against Foreman, mainly to get another shot at him. He was one of two challengers who went the distance, with Foreman later confiding that Kirkman had broken one of his ribs that night. The money was decent, too, amounting to $10,000 and expenses.
It was time to move on. He got a job driving a beer truck, joined the Teamsters and pulled on the gloves infrequently. He had just four more fights, all victories, all at home. He walked away with a 36-6 record, 24 victories coming on knockouts.
Along the way, he trained with Frazier in Philadelphia and had Frazier wander into his Renton bar unannounced one night. He was introduced to most of the old boxing legends -- Joe Louis, Rocky Marciano, Tony Zale, Henry Armstrong and Archie Moore. His only lament was he didn't get to face Ali, or meet him.
"There were a lot lesser boxers who got a shot at Ali and not me, a lot of guys I could have beat and did beat," Kirkman said.
The last time Kirkman stepped in the ring was 1983, for a fairground exhibition against heavyweight Gerry Cooney in Eugene, Ore. He took the kids. He was curious to see how it felt to pat a few against a known fighter again. It wasn't good.
Cooney got carried away. A disgusted Kirkman wouldn't come out for a fourth and final round.
"He was in there trying to knock me out," Kirkman said. "I said, 'This is enough, man.' It would have been a different story if I was six years younger and in better shape."
Kirkman never made it to the top of the boxing world. So he turned to the mountains.
Accompanied by his brother, he's climbed Mount Rainier eight times. He climbed Mount St. Helen's three times before the volcanic eruption, and scaled Mount Baker and Mount Adams.
The Kirkmans also have hiked the 94-mile Wonderland Trail, completing it in weekend segments. They'll traverse the 17-mile Chapman Lakes hike near Leavenworth in July.
Life is invigorating in other ways, too. He had two failed marriages while boxing, the second one producing two kids, Nina, 27, and Erik, 26. For 20 years, he's been happily married to Terese, an Overlake Medical Center nurse. He understands why.
"My ex-wives wouldn't like to hear this, but Jack Hurley said, 'Do your fighting first. Get married after you're done with fighting. Concentrate on one thing.' That's what I should have done," he said.
As for his longstanding Boeing job, he's content. Occasionally guys at work tease him and throw phantom jabs, reminding him of his previous life.
On the freeways each day, he's seen more accidents than most. His message there: Quit tailgating.
He's a little gray and bald on top, but otherwise appears robust. Of course, one would never know he broke his collarbone five times, starting with that childhood shove into the piano stool and repeated in sparring sessions.
This man looks way too healthy to be a former heavyweight fighter, to be Boone Kirkman.
Admittedly, he's not really Boone Kirkman.
"That's not my real name," he said. "It's Daniel Victor Kirkman."
On hunting trips as a kid, he would lag behind and draw gentle reminders from his father, leading to a name creation local boxing fans will never forget.
"He'd say, 'Come on, Dan'l Boone, keep up with me,' " Kirkman said, smiling at the memory, glad to still have it.
"All my friends called me that, and I've been called that ever since. My sister still calls me 'Danny.' "


THE LEDGER

Major fights in the boxing career of Renton's Boone Kirkman, who fought professionally from 1966 to 1978, compiling a record of 36-6. Twenty-four of Kirkman's wins came by knockout:

VS. EDDIE MACHEN


Date: May 26, 1967


Venue: Seattle Coliseum


Result: Kirkman TKO (3)


The fight: A crowd of 11,306 watched Kirkman make his hometown debut against an opponent who had once ranked among the top heavyweight contenders. Midway through the opening round, Machen staggered Kirkman with a three-blow flurry. But Kirkman trapped Machen against the ropes in the second, scoring consistently with hooks to the body, before unleashing a right that crossed Machen's eyes and sent him to the canvas. Kirkman finished off Machen in the third with a left hook-right combination.

VS. DOUG JONES


Date: Aug. 19, 1967


Venue: Seattle Coliseum


Result: Kirkman KO (6)


The fight: Kirkman used two uppercuts, a left hook and a big right to defeat a New Yorker who had previously handed Kirkman his only career defeat. "He (Jones) was helpless," said referee Jimmy Rondeau. "One more punch could have killed him."

VS. GEORGE FOREMAN


Date: Nov. 18, 1970


Venue: Mad. Square Garden


Result: Foreman KO (2)


The fight: Testing himself against a ranked foe for the first time, Kirkman found he was no match for the future heavyweight champ. Foreman nailed Kirkman with a left hook and a straight right midway through the first round, and then hammered him to the canvas at the start of the second. In a span of just 3:40, Foreman floored Kirkman three times.

VS. JIMMY ELLIS


Date: Dec. 12, 1973


Venue: Seattle Coliseum


Result: Kirkman (split)


The fight: In front of 10,072 fans, Kirkman recovered from a stunning first-round knockdown and a severe third-round beating to score a narrow verdict over the Angelo Dundee-trained Ellis, only the second ranked fighter Kirkman had encountered.

VS. AL JONES


Date: April 8, 1974


Venue: Dallas Sportatorium


Result: Jones KO (3)


The fight: Kirkman, who had a 34-4 record, knocked Jones down four times in the first two rounds on the same evening Hank Aaron hit his 715th career home run, eclipsing Babe Ruth. Then, 15 seconds into the third, Kirkman ran into a right that ended the fight. The punch left Kirkman unconscious for five minutes.

VS. KEN NORTON


Date: June 25, 1974


Venue: Seattle Coliseum


Result: Norton TKO (eight)


The fight: A partisan crowd of 11,039 agonized as Kirkman paid painfully for his share of the $98,335 purse. Kirkman won the first round, but Norton dominated thereafter, snapping uppercuts to Kirkman's chin, scoring almost at will. As the bell clanged ending the seventh round, Norton, who had already beaten Muhammad Ali, dropped Kirkman with a savage blow to the head, rendering Kirkman incapable of answering the bell for the eighth.

VS. RON LYLE


Date: Sept. 17, 1974


Venue: Seattle Coliseum


Result: Lyle TKO (eight)


The fight: Ring physician Alex Grinstein stopped it because of a cut on Kirkman's cheek. If the cut hadn't ended the fight, Kirkman might have scored an upset over the world's third-ranked heavyweight contender. Through the seventh, two judges had the fight even, and the third had Lyle ahead by a point.

VS. JOE (KING) ROMAN


Date: April 26, 1977


Venue: Seattle Center Arena


Result: Kirkman (decision)


The fight: Returning to the ring after an 18-month absence, Kirkman spent much of the 10-round bout snapping Roman's head with a series of ponderous punches that delighted the Arena crowd of 5,529, and prevented Roman from mounting any kind of sustained attack.

Expug wrote:Its a tough one.
Maybe one of the Finnegan bros.?

Just look at the photographer's camera, you can tell its from the 1940's

kikibalt wrote:

Expug wrote:Its a tough one.
Maybe one of the Finnegan bros.?

Just look at the photographer's camera, you can tell its from the 1940's

That photographer seriously needed some new equipment.

kikibalt wrote:

Expug wrote:Its a tough one.
Maybe one of the Finnegan bros.?

Just look at the photographer's camera, you can tell its from the 1940's

Hmmm...true , true.
Im just a youngster you'll have to excuse me