Classic American West Coast Boxing

[bennie]

Colditz

[Rick Farris]

Watching John Wayne in "Stagecoach" (1939), on TCM, a western classic....

The Duke

Rick, what can you tell us about John Wayne? Was he a good guy?

Bennie, I never worked with John Wayne, however my Uncle worked on two of his films, True Grit & Rooster Cogburn.
I have never heard anything but great stories of admration relating to John Wayne.
I have a lady friend in the industry, Charlene Roberson, who's father Chuck Roberson was the original "Fall Guy", John Wayne's stunt-double. Charlene was the personal make-up artisit of Raquel Welch and James Garner.
In the film world, John Wayne is like a God. You never here a bad story relating to The Duke.
Ironic, that most of crew of Wayne's early 50's film, "The Concord", have passed away from cancer. Most of the crew was exposed to radio active soil from a film location in St. George, Utah, the site of nuclear testing during WW2. Roberson, Wayne, Agnes Moorehead, and many others related to the production died of cancer.

[kikibalt]

The Duke

Rick, what can you tell us about John Wayne? Was he a good guy?

Bennie, I never worked with John Wayne, however my Uncle worked on two of his films, True Grit & Rooster Cogburn.
I have never heard anything but great stories of admration relating to John Wayne.
I have a lady friend in the industry, Charlene Roberson, who's father Chuck Roberson was the original "Fall Guy", John Wayne's stunt-double. Charlene was the personal make-up artisit of Raquel Welch and James Garner.
In the film world, John Wayne is like a God. You never here a bad story relating to The Duke.
Ironic, that most of crew of Wayne's early 50's film, "The Concord", have passed away from cancer. Most of the crew was exposed to radio active soil from a film location in St. George, Utah, the site of nuclear testing during WW2. Roberson, Wayne, Agnes Moorehead, and many others related to the production died of cancer.

I love to see Wayne's western and WWII movies. One think I didn't like about him; was that he was member of the John Birch Society.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Birch_Society

[bennie]

I've just been called a pensioner on the British forum.

[kikibalt]

I've just been called a pensioner on the British forum.

Elaborate please....

[bennie]

I've just been called a pensioner on the British forum.

Elaborate please....

Basically, I'm a pipe-smoking, slipper-wearing old man, Frankie.

[CNorkusJr]

I've just been called a pensioner on the British forum.

Elaborate please....

Basically, I'm a pipe-smoking, slipper-wearing old man, Frankie.

Now if you played the saxophone we could call you Sherlock Holmes.

[kikibalt]

I've just been called a pensioner on the British forum.

Elaborate please....

Basically, I'm a pipe-smoking, slipper-wearing old man, Frankie.

Oh!, you're like me than.....

[kikibalt]

Mob Scene

Two Mafia-themed attractions are set to open in Las Vegas. And in true gangland fashion, the pair will duke it out for supremacy.

From the Las Vegas Guide, a special advertising feature
November 30, 2010

Remember the explosive opening to Martin Scorsese’s “Casino”?

Sam “Ace” Rothstein, the Las Vegas bookmaker and casino kingpin played by Robert De Niro, slides behind the wheel of his Cadillac, turns on the ignition and — boom! — the car bursts into flames.

These days, you have to go to the pirate show at Treasure Island for pyrotechnics like that. But back in the days when Las Vegas was a mobster’s paradise, car bombings didn’t seem so unusual.

Long before the corporate bean counters took over, guys with names like Lefty, Lansky and Bugsy called the shots and “the skim” was a nightly ritual in casino counting rooms. Organized crime money — with some help from Jimmy Hoffa and the Teamsters’ pension fund — helped shape the gambling mecca that we know today.

For many years, Las Vegas kept its mob past at arm’s length — gangsters didn’t quite square with that whole “family friendly” marketing strategy. But with public fascination continuing unabated for all things Mafioso, Sin City decided the time is ripe to dredge up old ghosts. Two Mob-themed attractions are set to open in Las Vegas. And in true gangland fashion, the pair will duke it out for supremacy.

Opening in the second half of December at the Tropicana on the Strip, the Las Vegas Mob Experience will feature artifacts acquired from the estates of underworld figures such as Meyer Lansky, Sam Giancana, Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel and Tony “The Ant” Spilotro.

Visitors can wander the 26,000 square feet of exhibit space for a look at Lansky’s handwritten diary, Siegel’s 1933 Packard and home movies of Spilotro in a Santa suit.

“We’re not going to glamorize the mob, but we’re not going to vilify them either. Some of them did atrocious things but they went home and were loving family members,” said Jay Bloom, managing member of the Mob Experience.

Spilotro was dispatched to Las Vegas by the Chicago Mob to keep an eye on the skim — casino earnings siphoned off before Uncle Sam could get his share. He inspired Joe Pesci’s Nicky Santoro character in “Casino,” creepily memorable for an all-but-unwatchable scene in which Santoro squeezes an adversary’s head in a vise.

Things ended unhappily for Spilotro, as they did for many Las Vegas mobsters. His badly beaten body was found buried on the edge of an Indiana cornfield. Siegel, who helped the mob gain a foothold in Las Vegas with construction of the Flamingo in the 1940s, was shot dead while reading a newspaper at girlfriend Virginia Hill’s home in Beverly Hills.

Set to open in summer 2011 is the city-backed $50-million Las Vegas Museum of Organized Crime and Law Enforcement — a.k.a. The Mob Museum. The museum will make its home at the old post office and federal courthouse in downtown Las Vegas. Exhibits will be spread over three floors in the Depression-era neoclassical building.

It was here, in a second-floor courtroom, on Nov. 15, 1950, that the Kefauver Committee sought to uncover the dirty truth about organized crime in Las Vegas. After less than a day’s worth of testimony, committee members left town with little to show for their efforts. Key witnesses were conveniently out of town or had little to say.

While the two Mob attractions share a theme, each promises an experience unlike the other. The Mob Museum, which has the support of the FBI, aims for a serious-minded look at organized crime and the forces that eventually drove it out of town. The Mob Experience, which has backing from family members of reputed mobsters, will strive to score entertainment points. Both will use high-tech gadgetry such as holographic imagery to bring history alive.

The car bombing in “Casino” was drawn from real life. Incredibly, Rosenthal escaped with minor injuries that fall day in 1982 outside Tony Roma’s on Sahara Avenue. What his assailants didn’t know was that the ’81 Caddy had as standard equipment a metal plate under the driver’s seat that diverted the blast.

—Anne Burke, Custom Publishing Writer
Las Vegas Travel Guide
LATimes

[THEHAMMER321]

Frank as a kid growing up in the ''Spilatro'' era, there was always something going on in the news about either him or Lefty Rosenthal or the Stardust hotel, I remember one 4th of July about 1981, Tony Spilatro and his ''crew'' ripped off a jewelry store during the fireworks so nobody could hear them using sledgehammers on the stucco building to get through the walls, I also remember the time Lefty Rosenthal nearly got blown up at the Tony Romas on Sahara, I never did see any of those guys in person, just on the news.

[kikibalt]

Frank as a kid growing up in the ''Spilatro'' era, there was always something going on in the news about either him or Lefty Rosenthal or the Stardust hotel, I remember one 4th of July about 1981, Tony Spilatro and his ''crew'' ripped off a jewelry store during the fireworks so nobody could hear them using sledgehammers on the stucco building to get through the walls, I also remember the time Lefty Rosenthal nearly got blown up at the Tony Romas on Sahara, I never did see any of those guys in person, just on the news.

You were there, Paul, that's all that matters....

[bennie]

[kikibalt]

Armando “El Hombre” Muniz – Olympian and HOF Inductee!
Interview by Ken Hissner, Doghouse Boxing



In 1968 Armando Muniz out of Los Angeles, was defeating Philadelphia’s Bobby “Boogaloo” Watts at the Olympic trials on national television. Muniz would make the Olympic team that year along with George Foreman among others. Being from outside of Philadelphia I thought someday they will have a rematch. Muniz would win the 1969 and 1970 AAU championships after the Olympics while serving in the Army.

Well, Muniz and Watts did meet again and it was the same outcome in 1970 for Muniz 4-0 and Watts 7-1 at the Olympic Auditorium, in Los Angeles. The only difference was they fought for 6 rounds instead of 3. The outcome was the same with Muniz taking the decision. “I got knocked down in the trials and it cost me the fight. I felt the fight as professionals was a different story,” said Watts. “Bobby Boogaloo Watts, what a fighter”, said Muniz.

“My trainer throughout my amateur and pro career was a very nice man named Louie Jauregui. He spent most of his life as a produce worker for the Teamsters union near downtown L.A. and the teamsters had a gym in the basement of the Hall and there is where I learned with Louie.

Louie trained many boxers, and many were very good, but in boxing like many other sports and other ventures, being good is not enough. One has to be dedicated and determined and have vision in order to win. I guess I had a little of that!

My first manager was Jake Horn. His son and I played football and wrestled at Artesia H.S. together. Jake had been involved in boxing many years past and “knew” the game. Vic Weiss was my second pro manager. When Jake was having problems with the strains of having diabetes Vic stepped in.

Muniz then beat Walter Charles, 10-2-1, Victor Manuel Basillo, 3-0, and Crispen Benitez, 6-4. Benitez was in the main event when Muniz turned professional in July of 1970 in a 6 rounder stopping Joe Adams, 6-6-1. It was the first 10 rounder for Muniz who skipped the 4’s and the 8’s. Muniz would go onto defeat James Caffey, 11-1, in a main event and Mike Seyler, 26-9-2, on the undercard of Ken Buchanan and Ruben Navarro for the lightweight title.

In May of 1971 with only a 12-0 record Muniz was put in with Oscar “Shotgun” Albarado, 36-4, at the Olympic Auditorium. After 10 tough rounds the decision ended in a draw. “We had 25% of the gate as my pay that night. It had to be 90% full while holding 10,000. My paycheck specified I was paid on 4200 in attendance with me grossing $7200, my biggest payday to date. Something was not right. Jake got mad and promoter Eileen Eaton kicked us out,” said Muniz. It would be 2 years before he would fight there again. “Don Fraser was with Eaton and broke away and formed his own promotional company in association with the L.A. Forum. He took with him, Mickey Davies, who was Eaton’s matchmaker. Thank God the forum was there after Eaton kicked us out of the Olympic,” said Muniz.

In July Muniz won a close fight over veteran Chucho Garcia, 84-18-3, by majority decision, at the Civic Center, in Santa Monica. In his seventh fight of the year in August he stopped Gil King, 30-2 at the same venue. This win set the stage for Muniz to fight for the NABF welterweight title.

Canada’s champion Clyde Gray, 29-1-1, held the title. Muniz suffered a cut under an eye but knocked out Gray in the ninth round to win the NABF title. In his next fight his management took a giant step matching him with the former welter and middle champ Emile Griffith, 72-12. Muniz was not ready for Griffith and lost for the first time in 18 fights (16-1-1). “The best fighters I ever faced were Griffith and Napoles,” said Muniz. Two world title fights with Napoles would come down the road.

Just 6 weeks later Muniz was put in with Peter Cobblah, 43-45-4, of Ghana, in the main event, taking an easy 10 round decision. In May Muniz lost to Raul Soriano, 53-23-1, by majority decision at the Forum, in Inglewood. He would win 4 in a row including stopping former contender Percy Pugh, 46-28 in 2 rounds, in an NABF title fight.

In November of 1972 Muniz was upset by Jose Martin Flores, 9-4-3, in only his second fight out of CA, this taking place in Las Vegas. Less than 3 weeks later he defeated Adolph Pruitt, 44-11-2, by stoppage in 8 rounds. Pruitt had just lost in his previous to WBC/WBA champion Jose Napoles. Pruitt would announce his retirement after fighting Muniz.

Muniz would lose his NABF title in his next fight against Eddie Perkins, 67-16-2, by split decision. Perkins held the junior welterweight title before retiring and entering the Hall of Fame. They would meet 14 months later and the decision went to Perkins again. “Perkins was a craftsman in the sport of boxing and a good one but I thought I won the second fight. The first fight was in Denver, CO, not a big boxing city, but I will admit Perkins was the better boxer. Boy was he shifty. In the second fight in Tucson, AZ, those judges were looking the other way,” said Muniz.

Between his rematch with Perkins Muniz had defeated Manny Gonzalez, 59-27-6, and Ernie “Indian Red” Lopez 48-10-1, stopping Lopez in 7. “We needed a big fight with Lopez and Vic was able to work with Eaton on this,” said Muniz. The previous fight is when Weiss became his manager. In the first of 2 bouts with Zovek Barajas, 14-2, Muniz was upset by split decision.

Muniz would start off 1974 defeating Dave Orpeza, 45-4-1, who was unbeaten in his previous 17 fights (16-0-1), and then Muniz lost in the rematch to Perkins. He then stepped up to 154 and lost to Marcos Geraldo, 28-11. In July he went to San Juan, PR, in the dead of summer losing to Angel Espada, 30-6-4. He would come back with a pair of wins including defeating Hedgemon Lewis, 51-5, who had just lost to world champion Jose Napoles in his previous fight. “Hedgemon Lewis was hard to corner and hit,” said Muniz. This earned Muniz his first world title bout with Napoles, in Mexico, in Mach of 1975.

This will go down as one of the most blatant robberies in the history of boxing. Muniz was deprived of winning the WBC/WBA world welterweight titles when the referee Ramon Berumen halted the action at 1:27 of the twelfth round in favor of Napoles. It was ruled that an accidental head butt caused a bad cut on Napoles in the previous round 11. There had been no warnings or stoppage’s when this occurred in that round. “I cannot believe Napoles threw 12-14 intentional low blows and that alone should have disqualified him,” said Muniz.

After Napoles had his eye worked on between rounds the bell sounded with the referee having his back toward both boxers leaning through the ropes talking to the commission for several seconds while the boxers continued fighting. It is suspected at this point he was told to stop the fight at a certain time and go to the scorecards in the following round. At the halfway point that is exactly what the referee did. Since there was no warning given in the eleventh round by the referee the fight when stopped in the twelfth should have been awarded t o Muniz by technical knockout. Instead it was awarded to Napoles by technical decision.

In May of 1975 Napoles gave up his WBA title but held onto the WBC title. He gave Muniz a rematch in July in Mexico City. “This was my toughest fight due to the altitude,” said Muniz. This time Muniz found himself on the canvas in round 8. The scores all went to Napoles who retained his WBC title.

Muniz would win his next 4 fights including winning the US Welterweight title defeating Jimmy Heair, 46-9-1, in June of 196. I would be 6 months later that he would fight Carlos Palomino, 20-1-3, for the WBC title at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles in January of 1977.

“This was the first time 2 college graduates fought each other for the world title. I’m glad God gave me the opportunity to get an education,” said Muniz. After 14 rounds the judges had the fight even at 133-132 Muniz, 135-133 palomino and 133-133 a draw. Referee John Thomas stopped the fight at 2:23 of the fifteenth round in favor of Palomino. It was the first time in 52 fights Muniz lost without going the distance.

In June Muniz had his second meeting with Zovek Barajas, 19-5-1, who he lost to in October of 1973. This time it would be Muniz getting the win when the referee stopped the bout in round 4. Something strange happened in August when he lost to underdog Jose Palacios, 5-8-1. Based on this win despite his poor record Palacios would get a title bout with Palomino losing in 13 rounds. For Palacios to fight for a world title with a 6-8-1 record may have been a first.

At the end of the year Pete Ranzany, 36-1-1, who hadn’t lost in his last 31 fights (30-0-1) was being groomed for a title bout with Palomino when he took on Muniz. The fight was held in the hometown of Ranzany in Sacramento. Muniz upset the apple cart stopping Ranzany on cuts in round 6. This would earn him a rematch with palomino in May of 1978. Muniz hadn’t made 147 since their first meeting some 16 months previously. “I had a hard time making weight,” said Muniz. Palomino would retain his title.

At the end of 1978 Muniz would have his final fight against the Olympic gold medalists “Sugar” Ray Leonard, 16-0, in Springfield, MASS. Muniz was unable to continue after the sixth round due to tendinitis in his left arm. This was only the second time in 59 fights he was stopped. It was quite a career for the popular Muniz who ended up 44-14-1, with 30 knockouts.

Today, Muniz is president of the World Boxing Hall of Fame since 2005. He spent 21 years as wrestling coach at Rubidoux H.S. He had wrestled at UCLA. In 1988 at the age of 42 he started teaching until 2008. He taught Math and English.

Muniz would be inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1993. At a later induction in 2007 he entered the California Hall of Fame. At Joe Frazier’s gym in Philadelphia this writer asked Frazier’s legendary trainer Eddie Futch about his fighter Hedgemon Lewis fighting Muniz (1974). “Oh, Armando was very tough and a very nice young man,” said Futch. I believe what was said by Futch says it all about Muniz. He was very tough in the ring and very nice out of the ring!

[THEHAMMER321]

Frank I hope to one day meet Muniz, there are always fighters who always seem to come up short, and Muniz falls into this category along with one of my favorites Yaqui Lopez, fighters who give there all but came up short.

[CNorkusJr]

Frank, Thanks for posting Mr Muniz's story as a synopsis. Somethings just dont translate what a guy goes through when you just look at his boxing record.
I know you and Rick Farris mention Mr Muniz's name often, and I do remember watching him on TV towards the end of his career. No doubt he was as tough as they come.
The conversations that you have with him, most certainly, must be entertaining and informative to say the least. Thanks for sharing.

[kikibalt]

Frank I hope to one day meet Muniz, there are always fighters who always seem to come up short, and Muniz falls into this category along with one of my favorites Yaqui Lopez, fighters who give there all but came up short.

Paul, come to the 2011 CBHOF luncheon, which will be held on June 25, 2011 and you can meet Mando.

[kikibalt]

Frank, Thanks for posting Mr Muniz's story as a synopsis. Somethings just dont translate what a guy goes through when you just look at his boxing record.
I know you and Rick Farris mention Mr Muniz's name often, and I do remember watching him on TV towards the end of his career. No doubt he was as tough as they come.
The conversations that you have with him, most certainly, must be entertaining and informative to say the least. Thanks for sharing.

Charlie, Mando is a good friend, I have known Mando since the early '60's, worked his corner when he fought Red Lopez. He is a real nice guy to know.

[kikibalt]

Frank I hope to one day meet Muniz, there are always fighters who always seem to come up short, and Muniz falls into this category along with one of my favorites Yaqui Lopez, fighters who give there all but came up short.

My son Tony falls in that category too....

[raylawpc]

Frank, Thanks for posting Mr Muniz's story as a synopsis. Somethings just dont translate what a guy goes through when you just look at his boxing record.
I know you and Rick Farris mention Mr Muniz's name often, and I do remember watching him on TV towards the end of his career. No doubt he was as tough as they come.
The conversations that you have with him, most certainly, must be entertaining and informative to say the least. Thanks for sharing.

Chuck, for some reason, I've always liked Mando Muniz - long before I ever met him or even saw him fight. I guess I liked the way Ring and Boxing Illustrated described him. When I worked in boxing, he was always my favorite LA fighter even though at that point I had only seen him fight on TV and closed circuit. I was always after O'Grady to bring Mando to Oklahoma City for a fight. ("I don't know any of Muniz' people," was always Pat's reply.)

At last year's CBHOF banquet, Frank went out of his way to double check that Mando would be at the banquet, arranged for him to share my table, and then made sure that I got the chance to meet him when he came in late. After the banquet, Mando stayed around at the hotel and I got to hang out at the pool with him, Carlos Palomino, and Jerry Cheatham. It was great to hoist a few cold frosty ones with those great boxers, and share boxing stories. Mando is a great guy, and I really enjoyed meeting him - thanks to Frank's efforts.



God willing, I'll be at the 2011 banquet and I'll get to spend more time with him then.

[kikibalt]

Fighting Greg Haugen: An Opening and Closing of My Eyes


By Jeff Bumpus: In July of 1985 boxing seemed to have dried up. There were no fights on the professional horizon for me. The gym was pretty dead because all the amateur fighters had been through their tournaments until the fall. A lull had settled in.

The people that my manager and I associated with in order to obtain our fights were famous for “the midnight call.” They weren’t exactly the top agency in the business. They played a more peripheral role in the boxing world. Card falling apart? Call these guys. They can save your show. They had me and another fighter with whom they hoped to break into the upper echelon of respect in the boxing world.

ESPN\'s Top Rank series was at Resorts International Hotel and Casino that week and the scheduled headline bout was John Wesley Meekins of New York City vs. Greg Haugen of Auburn, Washington. Meekins was an ESPN favorite and Haugen had a solid amateur background, winning over 300 amateur fights and several Rocky Mountain Golden Glove titles.

Turns out that Meekins wasn’t going to make this date for Haugen so we were contacted. If memory serves, the bouts were on a Monday or Tuesday night. The preceding Friday night I got a phone call from my manager that went something like this: \"Findem and Cheatem Enterprises called me. They want you to stay ready this weekend. I don’t know what the weight is, so don’t eat too much. They might have an ESPN fight for you. Stay ready! Some guy named Hogan.\" (I wondered if I would get a leg drop and he would scream \"Brother!\")

That was a common theme and it’s my own fault truthfully. If you aren’t a proven commodity with an extensive amateur background before anyone ever puts a dime into your career, you end up with seat-of-the-pants promotions. I started boxing as a pro at age 22 after only 20 amateur fights. Most fighters who are smooth and well-schooled have been boxing since they are ten years old. I was on a learning curve that resembled running up a mountainside.

The weekend passed with no more word from management. It appeared to be another one of those “get ready! get ready! never mind” moments. Then on Monday morning I got a call from my manager. \"The flight leaves South Bend at 9:00 am. You fly to Detroit and catch another at 11:30 am. Then you fly to Philadelphia and Top Rank will pick you up there.\"

Fly? You mean in an airplane? I’d never even been in an airplane before and you want me to get into two different planes on the same day, with people driving who hide behind a cabin door so you can’t see them, like they are ashamed of how this is going to turn out and just close the door!?

I wasn’t afraid of flying; I was afraid of crashing. Those are two separate things. One is a jolting stop, the other is pretty smooth. Regardless, I packed my things for overnight in Atlantic City and drove to the airport in South Bend. The world\'s noisiest twin engine monstrosity flew me to Detroit with the Peter, Paul and Mary recording of \"Leaving on a Jet Plane\" constantly playing through my mind. Maybe getting punched in the head will be a good thing, I thought; it might change the song.

Detroit airport was just a hair larger than South Bend\'s. Just a hair. Navigate to the right gate and find the right plane so I don’t end up in Tucumcari. Hey, this is pretty cool. I can handle this.

When we landed in Philly I was now a veteran of two flights and very experienced, you see? At the bottom of the escalator was a man in a uniform holding a sign, just as I\'d been told he would be. We got in the limo and I thought, this is so awesome. I’m in \"Rocky’s” hometown! Right across the road from the airport, basically, was the spectrum and the colossal Veteran\'s Stadium. How many football games from that spot had I watched on Sunday afternoons? The limo driver kept asking me if I was comfortable and did I want the TV on, etc. You have to understand that I was about as young a 22-year old as anybody has ever been, so this was all met with wide eyes and a \"Who . . . me?\" kind of attitude.

We commenced the hour-long drive to Atlantic City.

Atlantic City should be divided into two parts. The boardwalk/casino areas and Atlantic City. The money is in the boardwalk. The struggle is in Atlantic City. I couldn’t get over that.

Resorts International is an immense hotel that could probably contain the entire downtown of Elkhart, Indiana in its interior. Later on, right next door, the Taj Mahal would dwarf Resorts, but at this particular time Resorts was huge. We went upstairs on the elevator to where the fighters were weighing in and being interviewed by ESPN’s Al Bernstein. The elevators opened up and there in front of me stood New Jersey state boxing commissioner Larry Hazzard.

\"Hi!\" I said.

Larry Hazzard looked at me as if a common human had dared to look him in the eye and speak to him directly. He turned his head to one of his lapdogs and gestured for him to take this . . . human . . . out of his eyesight. Perhaps I pained his head. The jerk didn’t say one word to me. Maybe his lapdog had forgotten to put the royal robe on his shoulders. Ah, my introduction to the big time.

I weighed in and was kind of embarrassed because I didn’t really think any of this stuff was going to come together, and here it was happening. I didn’t starve myself like my manager wanted me to, so I weighed in at 139, the highest I had ever been, but so did this kid named Greg Haugen (not Hogan.) Al Bernstein sat down with his legal pad and told me more about Greg than I had learned all the previous weekend. 300 plus amateur fights. Rocky Mountain Golden Gloves Champion. Owned amateur wins over Brett Summers, ESPN\'s fair-haired golden boy. Alaskan State Lightweight Champ. I would be his first television fight as a pro, of course.

Amazing how none of this information, even the correct pronunciation of his name, could be turned by my management. Maybe they thought I was going to freak. It was of no consequence; I still didn’t know who he was. I had long ago decided to go on with a pro career with the sure knowledge of my own lack of amateur experience. Truthfully, for a chance to be on Top Rank Boxing, I would have fought King Kong on top of the Empire State Building, if you spotted me a parachute.

Al interviewed Greg Haugen and from across the room I saw Greg\'s head snap up in shock and search my eyes out. I gave him a look like \"what?\", but he returned to talking to Al. It turned out later that my management team had told Greg that I was a conventional fighter when I am truthfully southpaw, which Al had noted from seeing me fight in Merrillville, Indiana, on the undercard of Donny LaLonde-Carlos Tite the previous summer. I later told Greg that I had nothing to do with that garbage. That was just management trying to act like they make a difference once two fighters are in the ring. That’s a really tricky idea, you know? So we would start the first round and he would look at me and see a southpaw stance. Cat\'s outta the bag now! Wow guys, that was really tricky of you; now I’m sure to win the fight! Strictly Mickey Mouse stuff.

Television crews wanted a nose-to-nose shot of me and Greg. So of course we obliged. This wasn’t my first stare down but the whole thing is just ridiculous in my view. I started cracking up, which shocked and cracked Greg up, and I had to try hard to straighten myself up for the cameras and business. If I get scared by a mean look, how in the world could I ever get into the ring and exchange punches? It’s silly.

The hours went by, and I called home and told them that this is on, get the family in front of the tube. I had every intention of winning this thing. I had no intention of caving in just because he had about 300 amateur bouts. If I could catch him and hit him hard enough, all that experience wouldn’t matter.

The stare down was much more intense in ring center than at the weigh-in session. At least now we were in the stages of marking our territory. Still, it just ends up being window dressing. The bell rang and it was easy to see that he was far and away the best boxer I had yet fought, amateur or pro. But I could stay with him. His combinations were more educated in the boxing sense and mine were a little too wide, but I was able to put him on the ropes and hit the body pretty well. His jab is what really impressed me. Short, precise, stiff. I remember how hard he was breathing through his nose and thought there is no way, if I can keep the pressure on, that he is going to last. He’s really puffing already. It was a false evaluation.

At one point I pressured him into the ropes and he was bent at the waist and slipping something and I was looking straight down at him thinking that I had him. If he moves this way, he can’t see me and I throw this; if he moves that way, I throw that and he still can’t see me. Greg stood straight up instead. The back of Greg\'s head, the occipital bone (I can still feel that one), slammed into my left eye socket. No cut. The impact was apparently too straight and centered. But the left eye world went black, and then a few minutes later it looked like the world does when you\'re crying your eyes out. There\'s light there but you can\'t make out anything at all. Not the sort of condition you want when you\'re in the ring with a fighter like Haugen. At that instant I felt reasonably sure my fight career was over just as it was really getting started. I wish that there was a word to describe how badly the eyeball, just the eyeball itself, can hurt when it is smashed. I don’t ever want to feel that much pain again.

I look at the film now and you can’t even tell that I’m screaming inside. I took it just like a fighter is supposed to take it—pokerfaced. At ringside, Al Bernstein told the television audience that my eye was already looking black. He assumed it was from a counterpunch. I assumed that my head was going to explode.

My crew in the corner went through their usual speech. You’ve got to throw more punches than him. This will be easy if you throw more punches. Oh and hey, one more thing: throw more punches.

Let’s be clear about something. I’m not saying I would have won on points against Greg Haugen if I hadn’t gotten my eye smashed. Greg was probably the finest \"pure boxer\" that I faced. In his next fight he would KO Freddie Roach, who is now familiar to boxing fans as Manny\'s trainer. He would knock out Chris Calvin, the Southern Rebel, who my team also represented. (They were going to show me how it was done, since I had wasted their time by looking promising and then failing to beat someone with only 11 pro fights and 300 amateur ones.) His combination punching was more educated and his defense was superior to my own. He would have won a decision from me unless I was able to land that fight changing bomb. (I was so frustrated that when he landed a big right during the eighth round that stirred up the crowd, I stuck my chin out and patted it, as if to say “go ahead, hit it again, didn’t hurt.” Totally classless on my part.)

The fight became a pattern, although I tried to put more pressure on him at the urging of my corner men. I would pressure him but he would land the most visually compelling punches of the round, show better boxing skills and defense, and win the round. I would amp the pressure up and pound his body, but you couldn’t possibly say that Greg didn’t win that fight. Every round was the same. I would eat punches to get inside, hit the body, land an occasional shot but I would get to take a counter-punch back with me. He held my hand up too when they announced the decision in his favor, a fighter’s way of saying this guy’s a tough dude, but I was just heartbroken. I had let everyone down. Most of all myself. And I still couldn’t see out of my left eye. My career was probably over.

My vision did come back the next day, edging light through a swelled and blackened eyelid. I cried again, but not because I lost the fight. I cried because I could see, and if I could see I could fight again. I couldn’t imagine my life without boxing.

I paced the halls of the massive hotel all night. For a while I was accompanied by my promoter and manager, and my promoter\'s wife. My promoter admonished me for a perceived lack of effort and kept reminding me that I had just lost in front of ten million people and just made my row to hoe that much longer. But hey, don’t worry about it, he said. He would get me a career of being a last-minute replacement in other fighters’ hometowns, since no one was going to take me seriously as a contender anymore. His wife elbowed him and told him that he wasn’t helping the situation at all, but people like that aren’t prone to taking advice from their wives.

In the elevator the next morning, I found myself standing with legendary Las Vegas trainer Johnny Tocco, who had worked Greg\'s corner the previous night. He nodded at me in the silence. Finally, before the elevator reached the bottom floor and let us both out, he reached across and patted my shoulder. \"Listen kid, somebody had to win, somebody had to lose that one. That was a tough fight. You’ll be back and you’ll be fine. He’s got an awful lot of experience, my kid has. You just have to straighten your punches up, not be so wild. You’re a damn tough kid.\"

It was like someone had died though. The sense of loss was heavy, all the way home, at home, training, everywhere. Visiting my parents’ house, I decided to take a training run out on the course that I had run as a fifteen year old, dreaming of being a big time pro boxer. An old high school friend\'s father, who was the farmer that owned cornfields that I could look out my parents’ front window and view, pulled up alongside me. He rolled down his window. \"You better get your ass running faster, loser! If you don’t you might get your ass kicked again!\" Then he drove away.

And that, my friends, is how you go from being a contender to a tomato can in less than an hour of your life. Fortunately, I’ve learned since then that the people who make those decisions and levy their own stern judgment on others don’t really matter anyway.
Looking back on that night in Atlantic City, I don’t feel cheated by fate or anything resembling that, and I’m proud of that kid. That was one damn fine fighter he was facing and that kid was in one hell of a lot of pain, and he didn’t show it, didn’t fold, and fought his heart out. That kid was me, and I don’t mind saying that I’m proud of him.

End

Jeff Bumpus boxed professionally from 1984 to 1993, compiling a record of 31-8. He lives and works in Union, Michigan.

[THEHAMMER321]

Frank I enjoyed that story on Jeff Bumphus, I saw that fight, but I always thought that Greg Haugen learned how to fight in the ''tough man'' contests, never thought he had that kind of amateur background.

[kikibalt]

Frank I enjoyed that story on Jeff Bumphus, I saw that fight, but I always thought that Greg Haugen learned how to fight in the ''tough man'' contests, never thought he had that kind of amateur background.

Paul, I myself don't know much about Haugen amateur background. Jeff himself wrote that article. Btw, Jeff fought JC Chavez at the Olympic in LA.

[Expug]

Frank as a kid growing up in the ''Spilatro'' era, there was always something going on in the news about either him or Lefty Rosenthal or the Stardust hotel, I remember one 4th of July about 1981, Tony Spilatro and his ''crew'' ripped off a jewelry store during the fireworks so nobody could hear them using sledgehammers on the stucco building to get through the walls, I also remember the time Lefty Rosenthal nearly got blown up at the Tony Romas on Sahara, I never did see any of those guys in person, just on the news.

You were there, Paul, that's all that matters....

Spilotro and his brother Mike grew up in my wifes neighborhood on Chicagos west Side.
Mike owned a restaraunt there that Bob Conrad used to frequent. They were pals I hear.

[Rick Farris]

Elaborate please....

Basically, I'm a pipe-smoking, slipper-wearing old man, Frankie.

Oh!, you're like me than.....

Yeah, Bennie. Pensioner, Kept Man, etc.

[Rick Farris]

Tom . . . I copied your post and forwarded it to Armando. I know that he will appreciate it.