BoxRec

kikibalt wrote:

bennie wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

My 1985 Managers License from the state of Nevada

Cheer up, Frankie. You look about to make a hit.

Yeah!, but I'm a nice guy.

And a snappy dresser.

kikibalt wrote:
Richie Sandoval
1976 AAU National Junior Olympic Champion

Richie came to London around 1979 and beat one of our best amateurs in Ray Gilbody. I remember the visiting USA team was hot, hot, hot.

Rick Farris wrote:

bennie wrote:

Bennie . . .

Now this is cool, Cus D'Amato's 1947 second's license. 'Ya know, this was issued more than five years prior to Floyd Patterson winning the Olympic Gold Medal as a middleweight in Helsinki, Finland.

Thanks, I love that kinda stuff.


-Rick

Cus certainly had some balls, standing up Norris and co. That cannot have been much fun.

Pintor

bennie wrote:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RT-Xv-MkNQ

Bobby Chacon vs Art Frias

In doing some research on Paul Banke for his induction into the CBHOF on June 21, 2008, found that he is half Yaqui Indian and half German.

kikibalt wrote:diego just for you


Fettucini Diablo
35 mins.Serves 4
Print PlanSend to MobileGet PodcastIngredients
1 box (16 oz) fettuccini
Kosher salt
Extra-virgin olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced
2 dried red chiles (or equivalent in crushed red chile flakes)
1 can (28 oz) san marzano tomatoes
1/2 cup torn fresh basil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 cup of assorted pitted olives
3 sprigs thyme
1 bay leaf
Extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Salata ricotta for garnish
Cooking Instructions
Begin with the sauce. Take a large skillet and add a 2-count of olive oil over medium heat. Once you get a shimmer, add the minced garlic and dried red chiles and cook for a minute until fragrant. Add the chopped onion, pitted olives, torn basil leaves, thyme and bay leaf then cook until translucent -- about 2-3 minutes. Strain the san marzano tomatoes and hand crush into a separate bowl, than add to skillet. Bring to boil, turn heat to low and simmer, uncovered for 10 minutes.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil to cook the pasta. The salted water should taste like the sea. Cook the fettuccini al dente then drain and dump directly into the diablo sauce. Use a ladle and add some of the pasta water to thin out the sauce if necessary. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Garnish with basil leaves and some shaved salata ricotta.

Frank
Let me fill you in. Good Italian food is like good Mexican food. THEY DON'T USE RECIPES. My grandfather "Diamond Joe" brought the best chef out from Naples,Italy to cook at his restaurant "La Bella Napoli". Al Capone ate there every night. Well that chef passed along what he knew to my grandmother,who passed it along to my mother,who taught my sisters and my wife, and now my daughter in San Diego knows too. But they couldn't tell you anything about measuring and weighing. It's something like "Two fingers full". Or "Use enough until it smells right." Besides they don't want to share that stuff with anyone anyway. Honestly,you could take them to Guantanamo and they wouldn't divulge how they make that food.

Expug wrote:Dagos ,I get hungry just thinking about the stuff Diamond Joe was bringin around.
True Italian bakery goods.Wonderful.
The stuff I delivered was Twinkies and Ho Hos , ding dongs etc.,There ought to be a law against it.
Ive been out of that a long time now thank God.

Pug
You Irish are good in a fight,but me and Frank got to introduce you to some good ethnic food. They must still have some in Chicago.

A bakery guy guy who delivers twinkies. What the hell is this country coming to?

Aromatic soup boasts special qualities

Every culture has great restorative stew of humble origin and ingredients.

The Hungarians and other Central Europeans have their cabbage soup. The French have their potage St. Germain. The Greeks have their white bean soup and the Mexicans have their menudo.

Menudo is a wonderfully aromatic soup made of tripe, hominy and chili, and is stewed for hours with garlic and other spices. the broth is rich, red, papery, and glistens with fat. It stimulates the senses, arms the insides, and clears the head.

Menudo is served in big open bowls brought to the table steaming and fiery. It is usually eaten in the wee hours after a night out on the town and widely proclaimed to be an antidote for hangovers.

Mexicans brag about menudo's goodness, about how the hot broth with its medicinal condiments, particularly the chili, replenishes vitamins A and C, soothes the stomach, and stimulates the gastric juices to overcome any loss of appetite.

Unfortunately, unlike the enchilada, taco, and tamale, menudo has not become a part of the popular Tex-Mex cuisine.

Wherever there's a Mexican community, there's menudo and San Marcos is no exception.

A hearty tripe soup as it is prepared in the north of Mexico, this is especially recommended as a cure for hangovers. It is always made on New Year's morning.

dagosd2000 wrote:

Expug wrote:Dagos ,I get hungry just thinking about the stuff Diamond Joe was bringin around.
True Italian bakery goods.Wonderful.
The stuff I delivered was Twinkies and Ho Hos , ding dongs etc.,There ought to be a law against it.
Ive been out of that a long time now thank God.

Pug
You Irish are good in a fight,but me and Frank got to introduce you to some good ethnic food. They must still have some in Chicago.

A bakery guy guy who delivers twinkies. What the hell is this country coming to?

My wife whos also Irish is a real good cook.
But I used to work construction with alot of Mexican guys and they were always bringing in good Mexican food for lunch and theyd share.
My wife used to make this kind of enchilada dish that was pretty good.
One day after lunch with my Mexican coworkers I had to tell her,"honey, no more gringo enchiladas".

Twinkie defense

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The phrase "Twinkie defense" comes from Twinkies, a popular snack food high in sugar.In jurisprudence, "Twinkie defense" is a derisive[1] label for a criminal defendant's claims that some unusual biological factor entered into the causes or motives of an alleged crime. According to this defense, the biological factor should mitigate the defendant's responsibility, and s/he therefore should not be held criminally liable for actions which violated the law, or the criminal liability should be reduced to a lesser offense. While biological factors may certainly influence behavior, the label of "Twinkie defense" implies that the specific biological factor is one that most people would view as not being sufficient to account for criminal activity, such as the effects of allergies, minor stimulants such as coffee and nicotine, sugar, and/or vitamins.

The expression derives from the 1979 trial of Dan White, a former San Francisco, California (U.S.) Supervisor who assassinated Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk on November 27, 1978. At the trial, noted psychiatrist Martin Blinder testified that White had been depressed at the time of the crime, and pointed to several factors indicating White's depression: He had quit his job, he shunned his wife, and become slovenly in appearance. Normally a fitness fanatic and health food advocate, White had also been consuming Twinkies and Coca-Cola. As an incidental note, Blinder mentioned theories that elements of diet could worsen existing mood swings. Another psychiatrist, George Solomon, testified that White had "exploded" and was "sort of on automatic pilot" at the time of the killings. The fact that White had killed Moscone and Milk was not challenged, but in part because of the testimony from Blinder and other psychiatrists, the defense successfully argued for a ruling of diminished capacity. White was thus judged incapable of the premeditation required for a murder conviction, and was convicted of voluntary manslaughter instead. The verdict was unpopular, leading to the White Night Riots.

In stories covering the trial, satirist Paul Krassner had played up the angle of the Twinkie, and he would later claim credit for coining the term "Twinkie defense". The day after the verdict, columnist Herb Caen wrote in the San Francisco Chronicle about the police support for White (a former policeman himself) and their "dislike of homosexuals" and mentioned "the Twinkie insanity defense" in passing. News stories published after the trial, however, frequently reported the defense arguments inaccurately, claiming that the defense had presented junk food as the cause of White's depression and/or diminished capacity, instead of symptomatic of and perhaps exacerbating an existing depression.

As a result of the White case, diminished capacity was abolished in 1982 by Proposition 8 and the California legislature, and replaced by "diminished actuality", referring not to the capacity to have a specific intent but to whether a defendant actually had a required intent to commit the crime with which he was charged. Additionally, California's statutory definitions of premeditation and malice required for murder were eliminated by the state's legislature, with a return to common law definitions. By this time, the "Twinkie defense" had become such a common referent that one lawmaker had waved a Twinkie in the air while making his point during debate.

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:diego just for you


Fettucini Diablo
35 mins.Serves 4
Print PlanSend to MobileGet PodcastIngredients
1 box (16 oz) fettuccini
Kosher salt
Extra-virgin olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced
2 dried red chiles (or equivalent in crushed red chile flakes)
1 can (28 oz) san marzano tomatoes
1/2 cup torn fresh basil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 cup of assorted pitted olives
3 sprigs thyme
1 bay leaf
Extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Salata ricotta for garnish
Cooking Instructions
Begin with the sauce. Take a large skillet and add a 2-count of olive oil over medium heat. Once you get a shimmer, add the minced garlic and dried red chiles and cook for a minute until fragrant. Add the chopped onion, pitted olives, torn basil leaves, thyme and bay leaf then cook until translucent -- about 2-3 minutes. Strain the san marzano tomatoes and hand crush into a separate bowl, than add to skillet. Bring to boil, turn heat to low and simmer, uncovered for 10 minutes.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil to cook the pasta. The salted water should taste like the sea. Cook the fettuccini al dente then drain and dump directly into the diablo sauce. Use a ladle and add some of the pasta water to thin out the sauce if necessary. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Garnish with basil leaves and some shaved salata ricotta.

Frank
Let me fill you in. Good Italian food is like good Mexican food. THEY DON'T USE RECIPES. My grandfather "Diamond Joe" brought the best chef out from Naples,Italy to cook at his restaurant "La Bella Napoli". Al Capone ate there every night. Well that chef passed along what he knew to my grandmother,who passed it along to my mother,who taught my sisters and my wife, and now my daughter in San Diego knows too. But they couldn't tell you anything about measuring and weighing. It's something like "Two fingers full". Or "Use enough until it smells right." Besides they don't want to share that stuff with anyone anyway. Honestly,you could take them to Guantanamo and they wouldn't divulge how they make that food.

diego,

Thats the way my wife cooks too, she doesn't have a recipe in the house, she says that they all in her head.

James Brown, Eartha Kitt and Don King
N.Y.C....1982

We were in N.Y.C. for a Don King press conference.
1982

Jose Torres and Dick Tiger

Ken Norton and Muhammad Ali

A few months ago, there was an article in the Los Angeles
Times about Albert Davila and his academically-mind
kids, a number of whom are going to college. It is nice
to learn that Davila apparently has done well as a
family man. Davila was one of my favorite L.A.-based
fighters and one of the best pure boxers of the last
35 years.

- Chuck Johnston

kikibalt wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

Here you go, diego.

Frank
Thanks for showing those pictures again. I'm going to show that kid tomorrow the pictures of his uncle. I think that will turn the trick.

diego,

Both Cotero's were very, very exciting fighters, good banger both were,
I seen both fight a few times at both the Olympic and Hollywood Legion.

Frank,
I talked to the kid at work today. His name is Jesus. He's going to email me Monday and give me his uncle Jose's phone number. He looked at the Forum. Like I said,he doesn't give himself away,but he's a good kid. He said his uncle is already in the Cal Box Hall of Fame. Armando is related to his uncle? He told me his uncle didn't have a brother,but I might have misunderstood him.

So menudo isn't Tex/Mex? Geez,menudo is a staple around here. At the Mercado Municipal,a block up from the Coauila,that's all that's in there. Dozens of menudo booths with these with women hustling you to eat their menudo. Man does that place get a workout early Sunday morning. I remember after a night of drinking that's the only thing I could hold down.

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote: Frank
Thanks for showing those pictures again. I'm going to show that kid tomorrow the pictures of his uncle. I think that will turn the trick.

diego,

Both Cotero's were very, very exciting fighters, good banger both were,
I seen both fight a few times at both the Olympic and Hollywood Legion.

Frank,
I talked to the kid at work today. His name is Jesus. He's going to email me Monday and give me his uncle Jose's phone number. He looked at the Forum. Like I said,he doesn't give himself away,but he's a good kid. He said his uncle is already in the Cal Box Hall of Fame. Armando is related to his uncle? He told me his uncle didn't have a brother,but I might have misunderstood him.

So menudo isn't Tex/Mex? Geez,menudo is a staple around here. At the Mercado Municipal,a block up from the Coauila,that's all that's in there. Dozens of menudo booths with these with women hustling you to eat their menudo. Man does that place get a workout early Sunday morning. I remember after a night of drinking that's the only thing I could hold down.

Diego,

He is right, Jose Luis is in the hall of fame, but he is wrong about Jose not having a brother, Jose and Armando are brothers, I used to see them fight, at the gym, in the knockout they are bill as brothers, they're brothers, don't know why he wouldn't know that.

Btw, just look at their faces, and tell me they are not brothers.

dagosd2000 wrote:So menudo isn't Tex/Mex? Geez,menudo is a staple around here. At the Mercado Municipal,a block up from the Coauila,that's all that's in there. Dozens of menudo booths with these with women hustling you to eat their menudo. Man does that place get a workout early Sunday morning. I remember after a night of drinking that's the only thing I could hold down.

Don't know if menudo Tex-Mex, as I don't know beans about anything Texas's, I just know that I love a good menudo (red) with pata.

Chuck1052 wrote:A few months ago, there was an article in the Los Angeles
Times about Albert Davila and his academically-mind
kids, a number of whom are going to college. It is nice
to learn that Davila apparently has done well as a
family man. Davila was one of my favorite L.A.-based
fighters and one of the best pure boxers of the last
35 years.

- Chuck Johnston

Former boxing world champion Albert Davila and his wife Roberta, neither of whom graduated from college, have steered their six children toward a college education, including, from left, Brittany, Alyssa and Brianne.
(Ringo H.W. Chiu / Los Angeles Times)

The Garey High graduate from Pomona has reared a family of six children, all of whom have graduated from college or are working on their degrees.

Alberto Davila's best night in boxing was also his worst.

It was Sept. 1, 1983, and the Pomona Garey High graduate was fighting for the bantamweight championship for the fourth time, having disappointedly walked away from his previous three title bouts without a belt.

He'd been boxing for 17 years.

"Twelve years old when I started," remembers Davila, now a 53-year-old father of six living in Upland. "I walked into a gym one day and got the crap beat out of me, but I loved it. I went back every day for the next six years."

The top-ranked contender had hoped to draw on that experience as he fought for the World Boxing Council's recently vacated title in the 118-pound division, but going into the 12th round against No. 3-ranked Kiko Bejines, Davila trailed on points.

In 58 previous fights, the stylish boxer had won only 20 by knockout. Davila, described as more of a craftsman than a brawler, was "a boxer who embodies all the best aspects of the so-called sweet science," Times reporter Richard Hoffer wrote at the time, with "no instincts for the brutality" of the sport.

But, with another title shot seemingly slipping away, the usually defensive boxer transformed himself. Turning aggressor, Davila caught Bejines flush on the jaw with a right hand less than 30 seconds into the final round. He landed two left punches, backing the Guadalajara fighter against the ropes, and then another solid right.

Bejines, a popular attraction at the Olympic Auditorium because of his macho style, sank to the canvas. The oldest of three boxing brothers, he started to get up, bracing himself on his fists. But then he collapsed again, unconscious.

Finally, after failed attempts in 1978, 1980 and 1982, plus a brief retirement from the sport to take a job delivering beer, Davila was a champion.

Finally, he could rejoice.

But, to Davila's horror, Bejines wasn't moving. Dragged into his corner, where cornermen and doctors tried to revive him, Bejines later was carried out on a stretcher and, still unconscious, taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital. From there, a helicopter transported him to another hospital. The next day, he underwent a 3 1/2 -hour operation to relieve pressure on his brain.

Two days after that, Bejines was pronounced dead.

The new champion, meanwhile, stood by in anguish.

"I never celebrated that victory," says Davila, who works as a laborer for a property maintenance company in Irvine. "I remember being real proud that night, but yet when we left the Olympic we went straight to the hospital, where he was, and stayed there into the wee hours of the night and into the early morning.

"I couldn't enjoy the victory."

Adds Davila, "It's something that will never leave me."

But Davila's luck was better than Bejines', and Davila never lost sight of that. He continued striving to make a better life for his family.

"You ask questions of yourself, like, 'Why did this happen?' " Davila says. "You win the biggest fight of your life and it's a tragedy. But the way I look at it is, we risk everything in life every day when we walk out the door. You never know what's going to happen, or why things happen. God only knows."

Davila and his high school sweetheart, Roberta, have been married 32 years. Though neither graduated from college, their three sons and three daughters all are college graduates or working toward undergraduate degrees. Daughter Brianne is working on a doctorate and son Gabriel is working on a master's.

The two youngest, 18-year-old twins Alyssa and Albert, won college athletic scholarships. Alyssa is a freshman soccer player at USC, Albert a freshman distance runner at Oberlin College in Oberlin, Ohio.

"My wife stressed that very much to the kids," Davila says of the family's emphasis on education. "She's the one that did most of that."

Davila successfully defended his title once, knocking out Enrique Sanchez in a rainstorm in Miami, then blew out a disk in his back while gardening.

Davila, whose real name is Albert but who fought under the name Alberto to make himself more marketable to a Latino audience, launched another comeback after that and fought twice more for the title, losing both times to Happy Lora.

In 1988, after losing to Lora at the Forum, he retired.

"I loved the sport," says Davila, who stayed involved as a trainer for several years before untangling himself altogether. "I loved competing. I loved what it did for me. Boxing was good to me. It gave me a sense of pride and it let me see parts of the world that I might never have seen if I hadn't been a fighter."

Of course, it also provided its share of heartache.

Davila wasn't sorry when his kids showed little interest in it.

"It's a hard sport," he says. "You've got to love it and I did. As dirty as it is, I miss it dearly. But I'm very happy away from it -- the corruption, the bad people."

And the triumphant nights that can turn to tragedy.

[email protected]The Garey High graduate from Pomona has reared a family of six children, all of whom have graduated from college or are working on their degrees.

Alberto Davila's best night in boxing was also his worst.

It was Sept. 1, 1983, and the Pomona Garey High graduate was fighting for the bantamweight championship for the fourth time, having disappointedly walked away from his previous three title bouts without a belt.

He'd been boxing for 17 years.

"Twelve years old when I started," remembers Davila, now a 53-year-old father of six living in Upland. "I walked into a gym one day and got the crap beat out of me, but I loved it. I went back every day for the next six years."

The top-ranked contender had hoped to draw on that experience as he fought for the World Boxing Council's recently vacated title in the 118-pound division, but going into the 12th round against No. 3-ranked Kiko Bejines, Davila trailed on points.

In 58 previous fights, the stylish boxer had won only 20 by knockout. Davila, described as more of a craftsman than a brawler, was "a boxer who embodies all the best aspects of the so-called sweet science," Times reporter Richard Hoffer wrote at the time, with "no instincts for the brutality" of the sport.

But, with another title shot seemingly slipping away, the usually defensive boxer transformed himself. Turning aggressor, Davila caught Bejines flush on the jaw with a right hand less than 30 seconds into the final round. He landed two left punches, backing the Guadalajara fighter against the ropes, and then another solid right.

Bejines, a popular attraction at the Olympic Auditorium because of his macho style, sank to the canvas. The oldest of three boxing brothers, he started to get up, bracing himself on his fists. But then he collapsed again, unconscious.

Finally, after failed attempts in 1978, 1980 and 1982, plus a brief retirement from the sport to take a job delivering beer, Davila was a champion.

Finally, he could rejoice.

But, to Davila's horror, Bejines wasn't moving. Dragged into his corner, where cornermen and doctors tried to revive him, Bejines later was carried out on a stretcher and, still unconscious, taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital. From there, a helicopter transported him to another hospital. The next day, he underwent a 3 1/2 -hour operation to relieve pressure on his brain.

Two days after that, Bejines was pronounced dead.

The new champion, meanwhile, stood by in anguish.

"I never celebrated that victory," says Davila, who works as a laborer for a property maintenance company in Irvine. "I remember being real proud that night, but yet when we left the Olympic we went straight to the hospital, where he was, and stayed there into the wee hours of the night and into the early morning.

"I couldn't enjoy the victory."

Adds Davila, "It's something that will never leave me."

But Davila's luck was better than Bejines', and Davila never lost sight of that. He continued striving to make a better life for his family.

"You ask questions of yourself, like, 'Why did this happen?' " Davila says. "You win the biggest fight of your life and it's a tragedy. But the way I look at it is, we risk everything in life every day when we walk out the door. You never know what's going to happen, or why things happen. God only knows."

Davila and his high school sweetheart, Roberta, have been married 32 years. Though neither graduated from college, their three sons and three daughters all are college graduates or working toward undergraduate degrees. Daughter Brianne is working on a doctorate and son Gabriel is working on a master's.

The two youngest, 18-year-old twins Alyssa and Albert, won college athletic scholarships. Alyssa is a freshman soccer player at USC, Albert a freshman distance runner at Oberlin College in Oberlin, Ohio.

"My wife stressed that very much to the kids," Davila says of the family's emphasis on education. "She's the one that did most of that."

Davila successfully defended his title once, knocking out Enrique Sanchez in a rainstorm in Miami, then blew out a disk in his back while gardening.

Davila, whose real name is Albert but who fought under the name Alberto to make himself more marketable to a Latino audience, launched another comeback after that and fought twice more for the title, losing both times to Happy Lora.

In 1988, after losing to Lora at the Forum, he retired.

"I loved the sport," says Davila, who stayed involved as a trainer for several years before untangling himself altogether. "I loved competing. I loved what it did for me. Boxing was good to me. It gave me a sense of pride and it let me see parts of the world that I might never have seen if I hadn't been a fighter."

Of course, it also provided its share of heartache.

Davila wasn't sorry when his kids showed little interest in it.

"It's a hard sport," he says. "You've got to love it and I did. As dirty as it is, I miss it dearly. But I'm very happy away from it -- the corruption, the bad people."

And the triumphant nights that can turn to tragedy.

diego,

I seen Jose Luis fights against Billy Peacock, Billy Evans, Tommy Umeda, Gil Velarde, Kid Anahuac, Dave Gallardo, Moreno, and his two wars with Ike Chestnut.

Armando, I seen his two wars with Sal Flores, Jimmy Palazzola, and in a 6 rounder that he fought against Gene Fullmer.

Some of those fights I seen on TV.