Classic American West Coast Boxing

[dagosd2000]

Morgan

Everybody knew him as Morgan.I swear the old guy looked just like Mr. Magoo in the cartoons even down to the thick glasses and the hat. Tak,who was the silent partner of the Yokohama Bar on the coener of 5th and G in San Diego,knew the most about Morgan.Tak ,who had been interned in a camp during the War, was behind the bar.

You could either find Morgan at the card room next door or at the Yokohama talking to Tak or one of the girls. It was the height of Vietnam and that area of the city was always hopping.

The girls would have the papers spread out on the table wanting to know what ships were in port. Tak was Japanese but most of the girls who worked at the Yokohama were Korean.They were the best hustlers in getting the clientel to buy them drinks and shoot a game of pool.The Japanese girls thought they were "better" than than the Korean girls. The Filipinas were at the bottom of the pecking order.

Tak told us that Morgan was once a fighter back in the day.It was hard to imagine the old guy ever doing that. Tak also said that Morgan was in the Navy on a gunboat on the Yagntse River.He lost his fortune in a silver mine in Colorado and was married for a time. Tak said Morgan and the wife were always at each other's throats. One day when they were arguing,Morgan shot her with a pistol.He served ten years in the pen for that.

I remember one night at the Yokohama when the place was getting jammed and noisy, Morgan was at the end of the bar with a whiskey glass in front of him. Me and Randy,Tak's son,were shooting a game of eight ball. Randy was pretty good with the stick and could hustle when he wanted. But he knew his limits. That's one sign of a hustler. One of the girls,Joyce sat next to Morgan.
"Morgan,"she said,"You buy me drink. Ok honey."
Morgan answered in his usual manner. He smiled and then began to sing.
"Oh the monkeys have no tails in Zaombango. Oh the monkeys have no tails..."
"What you talking about ."interrupted Joyce. "Mr. Magoo you buy Joyce a drink. You real crazy."
I never saw Morgan buy one of those girls a drink.

After a game of eight ball,me not taking a shot,Randy said,"Roger,let's go to the fights tonight."
"OK. I'm in."
"Let's take ol' Morgan with us. He was supposed to be a fighter."
"He's been drinking pretty good."
"So?We'll watch him."

We didn't have any difficulty persuading Morgan to go as long as we kept him well fortified. We hailed a cab and it took us to the Coliseum.

Paulie Armstrong was fighting in the main event.He was a pretty slick lightweight. I can't remember the guy he fought,but Armstrong had enough to win an easy decision. Neither boy was ever in trouble.

On the way back in the taxi I said to Morgan,"That Armstrong is a real cutie."
Morgan didn't say anything.

We returned to the Yokohama.The crowd had thineed out.Morgan went to the end of the bar. Me and Randy played the pinball machine. I saw one of the girls go over to Morgan. He turned to her and yelled,"The land of swinging doors and slant eyed whores."The he laughed and fell off the bar stool.Tak rushed over from behind the bar.
"You boys make sure he gets back across the street and up to him room."

Me and Randy helped Morgan up and walked him slowly to the old Mars Hotel. That's were he lived. After climbing to the top floor Morgan fumbled for the key to open the door. He fipped on the light. Then he staggered to the window to open it.The room was small and had that close feeling to it. I saw a picture of a woman on the bed stand. Over on the wall was an old yellowed photograph of a fighter. I walked over to take a closer look. I thought it might be Morgan,but it wasn't. It was a photograph of an oldtime pugilist in his fighting pose. There was an inscription.
"To Morgan my friend. Best of luck in the ring. Your stablemate,Battling Nelson."
I looked at Randy.He had a 'joint" in his hand.
"Hey Morgan,"he shouted,"You want to get high with us?"
Morgan turned from the window.
"That n----r tonight can't fight worth a s--t."
Randy put the marijuana back in his pocket.Morgan's lip was curled.
"Now you bums get out of hear if you know what's good for you, I never want to see you up here again."
I looked at Randy.We scurried down the stairs to the street.
"What was that all about?"asked Randy.
"I don't know,"I said. "Let's go across the street. Maybe your dad knows something."

[dagosd2000]

Battling Nelson

[CNorkusJr]

Champion Lionel Rose meets Mayor of Los Angeles.

[El Gallo]

Champion Lionel Rose meets Mayor of Los Angeles.

Good picture, Charlie. I remember when Lionel fought Castillo at the Forum, which ended in a major riot!

[El Gallo]

Benny Leonard

[El Gallo]

Brian, I guess you will be hitting the road soon for those Blackhawks games. Good luck this year.

Thanks Charlie. Yep looks like we are starting Jan 19th. The schedule isn't set yet but the date looks set. It will be good to get goin again.

Brian, glad you'll be back in action soon. I've been working quite a bit lately and have been pressed for time, hence my not posting as much as I'd like to here. Hope to see you when the Black Hawks come to LA again, and perhaps we can all have a reunion again later this year? If not, 2014 will mark the debut of a new event, and I'm pretty excited about what is in the works. A lot of support coming from the film community, which has always been a major part of boxing in Southern California. More to be revealed!

-Rick Farris

[dagosd2000]

Bed Of Concrete

After retiring from the school district I wanted to stay busy. Now I had time to do the things I like. More time reading,painting,more exercise,and being with the wife. Yeah,when you get older,it gets better.

I wanted to take some extension courses in subjects that interested me. The catalog at City College offered a course on the Mexican Revolution of 1910 and the Gilded Age. I liked City
College. I went there years ago after high school. It was downtown. There were still some landmarks around. I felt comfortable there.

The two courses were at night. Between classes there was an hour break. Across the street from the school was a gym. One of those boxing martial arts combos. I decided to spend my break in the gym getting some exercise.

The neighborhood was showing signs of decay. Homeless lined the sidewalks. There wasn't much anyone could do about it. Most of those people wanted to live like that .They'd let go of the rope long ago. My car was parked across the street from the gym. It was named the Mid City Gym. I walked inside and was impressed. The kid behind the counter was pretty buff with a bunch of tatoos of dragons on his forearms. There was a tatoo of a dagger on his neck.
"You've got a real nice place here,"I said.
"You like it?"
"The boxing gyms I used to go to never were laid out like this."
The gym was bright and spacious. There was a row of speed bags and heavy bags,a couple of rings. All kinds of different machines. Some I had no idea what they were used for. I told the kid I was just interested in hitting the bags,some shadow boxing,and rope skipping. I paid him and went to the locker to change.

I hit the bags,but soon found out that I had forgot how to hit the speed bag. My timing was all off. i slugged the big bag which was much easier for me. I shadow boxed in front of the mirror pretending I was Joe Frazier. After going through the motions I went to the front desk to thank the kid.
"See that guy across the street with the stocking cap"he said. I looked out the door. He was sitting next to my car.
"They say that guy used to be a fighter,he said. "I heard someone call him 'Red'".

I walked across the street carrying my gear. The old guy was sitting against the wall. His hands were big. His knuckles were big too. His fingernails were thick and dirty. Next to him was a blanket and a big bag with his stuff in it. I studied his face.The iron gray hair stuck out from his stocking cap. It was Indian Red. I had read after all these years he had turned up sleeping on the streets.

"So you think you're a fighter,"he said. He was looking straight ahead across the street at the gym. His comment caught me off guard.
"Oh no ."I said. "It's only to get some exercise."
The old fighter didn't look at me.
"I remember your fights with Hedgemon Lewis,"trying to be apropos.
The old fighters eyes glanced at me.
"Those were some wars,"he said.
I didn't want to ask him anything else.I fidgeted. I was embarrased. I said goodby and went to my car.As I opened the door I heard him say,"I couldn't beat the Cuban. The second time I thought i could do it. I just couldn't beat him."

I drove off. i didn't see Indian Red on that sidewalk after that. I asked a few of those guys if they'd seen him. Nobody knew nothing.
About a year later I read on the back of the sport's page that Indian Red had died in one of those county homes. At the California Boxing Hall of Fame dinner two years ago I saw his brother.I was there to see the fighters and to see if I could sell any of my paintings of the fighters. His wife was by his side.
"I'm sorry about your brother,"I said.
His wife looked at me.
"Thank you,"said Indian Red's brother. "He took a lot of shots."

The banquet was winding down so I started to put my paintings in the box. On the other side of the table where I was set up I saw Indian Red's brother and his wife.
"Look Danny,"she said to him.
They were looking at a painting I had done of Indian Red as I saw him on the street. They stared at the painting. I painted Indian Red in a boxing pose with those big hands of his in front of him. I turned around the table to the other side. I took the painting and handed it to his brother.
"Please take this,"I said. "This belongs to you."

[gilgamesh]

Bed Of Concrete

After retiring from the school district I wanted to stay busy. Now I had time to do the things I like. More time reading,painting,more exercise,and being with the wife. Yeah,when you get older,it gets better.

I wanted to take some extension courses in subjects that interested me. The catalog at City College offered a course on the Mexican Revolution of 1910 and the Gilded Age. I liked City
College. I went there years ago after high school. It was downtown. There were still some landmarks around. I felt comfortable there.

The two courses were at night. Between classes there was an hour break. Across the street from the school was a gym. One of those boxing martial arts combos. I decided to spend my break in the gym getting some exercise.

The neighborhood was showing signs of decay. Homeless lined the sidewalks. There wasn't much anyone could do about it. Most of those people wanted to live like that .They'd let go of the rope long ago. My car was parked across the street from the gym. It was named the Mid City Gym. I walked inside and was impressed. The kid behind the counter was pretty buff with a bunch of tatoos of dragons on his forearms. There was a tatoo of a dagger on his neck.
"You've got a real nice place here,"I said.
"You like it?"
"The boxing gyms I used to go to never were laid out like this."
The gym was bright and spacious. There was a row of speed bags and heavy bags,a couple of rings. All kinds of different machines. Some I had no idea what they were used for. I told the kid I was just interested in hitting the bags,some shadow boxing,and rope skipping. I paid him and went to the locker to change.

I hit the bags,but soon found out that I had forgot how to hit the speed bag. My timing was all off. i slugged the big bag which was much easier for me. I shadow boxed in front of the mirror pretending I was Joe Frazier. After going through the motions I went to the front desk to thank the kid.
"See that guy across the street with the stocking cap"he said. I looked out the door. He was sitting next to my car.
"They say that guy used to be a fighter,he said. "I heard someone call him 'Red'".

I walked across the street carrying my gear. The old guy was sitting against the wall. His hands were big. His knuckles were big too. His fingernails were thick and dirty. Next to him was a blanket and a big bag with his stuff in it. I studied his face.The iron gray hair stuck out from his stocking cap. It was Indian Red. I had read after all these years he had turned up on the street.

"So you think you're a fighter,"he said. He was looking straight ahead across the street at the gym. His comment caught me off guard.
"Oh no ."I said. "It's only to get some exercise."
The old fighter didn't look at me.
"I remember your fights with Hedgemon Lewis,"trying to be apropos.
The old fighters eyes glanced at me.
"Those were some wars,"he said.
I didn't want to ask him anything else.I fidgeted. I was embarrased. I said goodby and went to my car.As I opened the door I heard him say,"I couldn't beat the Cuban. The second time I thought i could do it. I just couldn't beat him."

I drove off. i didn't see Indian Red on that sidewalk after that. I asked a few of those guys if they'd seen him. Nobody knew nothing.
About a year later I read on the back of the sport's page that Indian Red had died in one of those county homes. At the California Boxing Hall of Fame dinner two years ago I saw his brother.I was there to see the fighters and to see if I could sell any of my paintings of the fighters. His wife was by his side.
"I'm sorry about your brother,"I said.
His wife looked at me.
"Thank you,"said Indian Red's brother. "He took a lot of shots."

The banquet was winding down so I started to put my paintings in the box. On the other side of the table where I was set up I saw Indian Red's brother and his wife.
"Look Danny,"she said to him.
They were looking at a painting I had done of Indian Red as I saw him on the street. They stared at the painting. I painted Indian Red in a boxing pose with those big hands of his in front of him. I turned around the table to the other side. I took the painting and handed it to his brother.
"Please take this,"I said. "This belongs to you."

Great Story

[dagosd2000]

Bed Of Concrete

After retiring from the school district I wanted to stay busy. Now I had time to do the things I like. More time reading,painting,more exercise,and being with the wife. Yeah,when you get older,it gets better.

I wanted to take some extension courses in subjects that interested me. The catalog at City College offered a course on the Mexican Revolution of 1910 and the Gilded Age. I liked City
College. I went there years ago after high school. It was downtown. There were still some landmarks around. I felt comfortable there.

The two courses were at night. Between classes there was an hour break. Across the street from the school was a gym. One of those boxing martial arts combos. I decided to spend my break in the gym getting some exercise.

The neighborhood was showing signs of decay. Homeless lined the sidewalks. There wasn't much anyone could do about it. Most of those people wanted to live like that .They'd let go of the rope long ago. My car was parked across the street from the gym. It was named the Mid City Gym. I walked inside and was impressed. The kid behind the counter was pretty buff with a bunch of tatoos of dragons on his forearms. There was a tatoo of a dagger on his neck.
"You've got a real nice place here,"I said.
"You like it?"
"The boxing gyms I used to go to never were laid out like this."
The gym was bright and spacious. There was a row of speed bags and heavy bags,a couple of rings. All kinds of different machines. Some I had no idea what they were used for. I told the kid I was just interested in hitting the bags,some shadow boxing,and rope skipping. I paid him and went to the locker to change.

I hit the bags,but soon found out that I had forgot how to hit the speed bag. My timing was all off. i slugged the big bag which was much easier for me. I shadow boxed in front of the mirror pretending I was Joe Frazier. After going through the motions I went to the front desk to thank the kid.
"See that guy across the street with the stocking cap"he said. I looked out the door. He was sitting next to my car.
"They say that guy used to be a fighter,he said. "I heard someone call him 'Red'".

I walked across the street carrying my gear. The old guy was sitting against the wall. His hands were big. His knuckles were big too. His fingernails were thick and dirty. Next to him was a blanket and a big bag with his stuff in it. I studied his face.The iron gray hair stuck out from his stocking cap. It was Indian Red. I had read after all these years he had turned up on the street.

"So you think you're a fighter,"he said. He was looking straight ahead across the street at the gym. His comment caught me off guard.
"Oh no ."I said. "It's only to get some exercise."
The old fighter didn't look at me.
"I remember your fights with Hedgemon Lewis,"trying to be apropos.
The old fighters eyes glanced at me.
"Those were some wars,"he said.
I didn't want to ask him anything else.I fidgeted. I was embarrased. I said goodby and went to my car.As I opened the door I heard him say,"I couldn't beat the Cuban. The second time I thought i could do it. I just couldn't beat him."

I drove off. i didn't see Indian Red on that sidewalk after that. I asked a few of those guys if they'd seen him. Nobody knew nothing.
About a year later I read on the back of the sport's page that Indian Red had died in one of those county homes. At the California Boxing Hall of Fame dinner two years ago I saw his brother.I was there to see the fighters and to see if I could sell any of my paintings of the fighters. His wife was by his side.
"I'm sorry about your brother,"I said.
His wife looked at me.
"Thank you,"said Indian Red's brother. "He took a lot of shots."

The banquet was winding down so I started to put my paintings in the box. On the other side of the table where I was set up I saw Indian Red's brother and his wife.
"Look Danny,"she said to him.
They were looking at a painting I had done of Indian Red as I saw him on the street. They stared at the painting. I painted Indian Red in a boxing pose with those big hands of his in front of him. I turned around the table to the other side. I took the painting and handed it to his brother.
"Please take this,"I said. "This belongs to you."

Great Story

Thank You

[dagosd2000]

George O'Roarke-Old Time Pugilist

[CNorkusJr]

Very Nice story Roger. I can tell you first hand that a gesture of the heart like yours means more than any money put up on the table.From both sides of the table also. I am sure the painting is well kept.

[dagosd2000]

Very Nice story Roger. I can tell you first hand that a gesture of the heart like yours means more than any money put up on the table.From both sides of the table also. I am sure the painting is well kept.

Charley,It makes me happy to do it. Thanks

[kikibalt]

Pete Vital Jr, Pete Vital Sr in back-Front Chucho Castillo (L) and Romeo Anaya

By Gabriel F. Cordero

Former WBA/WBC bantamweight world champion Jesus “Chucho” Castillo passed away at the age of 68 on Tuesday afternoon in Mexico City after suffering a heart attack. Castillo had a career record of 47-18-2 with 22 KOs and fought the best of his era including Jose Medel, Bernardo Caraballo, Jesus Pimentel, Lionel Rose, Rafael Herrera, Ruben Olivares, Enrique Pinder, Bobby Chacon, Rafael Ortega and Danny Lopez among others. On October 16, 1970 at the Forum in Inglewood, California, he snatched the WBA and WBC bantamweight crowns from Ruben Olivares by TKO in 14 rounds. He was currently working at the Metro Workers Union in Mexico City and was known as a kind and decent man.

[scartissue]

Pete Vital Jr, Pete Vital Sr in back-Front Chucho Castillo (L) and Romeo Anaya

By Gabriel F. Cordero

Former WBA/WBC bantamweight world champion Jesus “Chucho” Castillo passed away at the age of 68 on Tuesday afternoon in Mexico City after suffering a heart attack. Castillo had a career record of 47-18-2 with 22 KOs and fought the best of his era including Jose Medel, Bernardo Caraballo, Jesus Pimentel, Lionel Rose, Rafael Herrera, Ruben Olivares, Enrique Pinder, Bobby Chacon, Rafael Ortega and Danny Lopez among others. On October 16, 1970 at the Forum in Inglewood, California, he snatched the WBA and WBC bantamweight crowns from Ruben Olivares by TKO in 14 rounds. He was currently working at the Metro Workers Union in Mexico City and was known as a kind and decent man.

Ah, damn, Chucho Castillo. I think the 'boxing fans' of today look at Castillo's record and probably believe he wasn't much. But when you are consistently fighting the best (and I do believe that was the greatest era in bantamweight history) there are going to be losses. The man beat Olivares, Herrera, Pimental, Medel, Lara, Caraballo, Pinto, Cruz and schooled a soon-to-be-champ in Ortega. One of the greats. RIP, champ.

[scartissue]

A WBC video tribute. I think there was better video available, such as him dropping Olivares and Rose, but it was probably put together fast.

http://vimeo.com/57535872

[dagosd2000]

Chucho Castillo is a tough loss. He was fighting when I think the bantamweight division was at its greatest. Just ask Ruben Olivrares. Vaya con Dios Chucho.

[dagosd2000]

Undisputed

In the morning I dropped off the car at Farouq's for a brake job. He said after he'd get the parts delivered he'd get right on it. Come back in an hour. Meanwhile I had some time to kill so I decided to go next door to Burke's for an eye opener.

It was still early. Ed the bartender was setting up. I went to the end of the bar.
"Just a beer,"I said.
"Roger. What are you doing in here so early?"
"I'm getting the car worked on next door. See if Burke was around."
"No. He and Shirley open up,count the receipts ,and go home."

Just then Morrie the tax guy from upstairs walked in. He saw me there alone and sat down next to me.
"Roger. Never thought I'd see you in here this time of day,"he said.
"Getting some work done on the car next door."
"You trust that guy?"
"I've never had a beef."
"You know Roger it's tax season. You should let me do your taxes."
"My son in law does them."
"But he's not a pro like me."
"I've never had a problem."
"You know something Roger?"
"What?"
"I bet this is the only bar in San Diego with pictures of fighters on the walls."
"Wouldn't surprise me."
"Tell me. What was Burke champion of anyway?"
"Light heavyweight champ of Canada."
"Of Canada? Big deal."
I looked at my watch.
"He's proud of it."
"Yeah,but who remenbers that?"
"Is it that important?"
Morrie finished his shot and ordered another.
"Nowadays all these weight divisions and all these different belts. It's a big joke."
I looked at my watch again.
"Just think,"Morrie said. "Armstrong won three titles when there were only eight divisions."
"I know."
A man walked into the bar.
"That's Burke,"said Morrie.
"No it looks like Burke but it's someone else."
"You sure?"
"Look for yourself."
"Yeah you're right. "
"They say no two people are the same.Well I got to go Morrie."
"Let me buy you another beer."
"No. My car should be ready next door."

[dagosd2000]

Jesus "Chucho" Castillo

[dagosd2000]

The Reason

"Is that you Pedro?"
The little guy turned away from his drink and looked up at me.
"Roger. What are you doing in here?"
"I live down the street. Once in a while I pop in for a cold one."
I hadn't seen Pedro in some time. He was more than a pretty good bantamweight when he fought in the 70's . He fought them all:Olivares,Castillo,Rodolfo Martinez,the Pimentals. He headed a lot of cards. Always gave the crowd their money's worth.
"Can I buy you another drink Pedro?"
"You know me. I've never turned one down."
Ed ,the bartender,came over with a couple of drafts.
The TV was on. It was the news. They were showing another one of those shootings at a school somewhere in the Rockies.
"What's going on with people nowadays?" Pedro asked.
"People can't cope anymore."
"I wonder what got into this kid to do something like that?"
"They said the kids picked on him at school."
I didn't want to watch the news anymore.
"Ed. Any game on?"I asked.
"I'll try to find something,"said the bartender.
"So how is your brother Pete?"
"Oh he went back to Mexico last year. Didn't like the cold and was having a tough time making ends meet I guess. That's what he said."
"What's he doing back in Jalisco?"
"Nothing. His wife sells tamales in town and he walks the kids to school ."
I took a log drink from my glass.
"My brother says he was used to making 10 dollars an hour in New York even if he was an illegal."
I finished my beer.
"Right now I'm in the middle things. I've got a writer interested in doing on book on me. He says he's waiting for some money to come in first."
"I thought you had a place downtown. What happened?"
"Well after three wives and buying everyone in the world a drink I've got nothing left."
"You didn't do bad fighting. You must have made a little dough."
"It all went in and out of that place and to the wives."
I slid the glass to the edge of the counter and laid a tip next to it.
"Pedro. I've got to run,but it was good seeing you."
"I'm hanging around waiting for Burke to come in. He worked with me a lot."
Pedro's glass was empty.
"Say Roger. You think you could sponsor me one until Burke gets here?"
"Sure."
I motioned for Ed to come over.
"I'm waiting for a check to come in. If I see Burke I'll tell him I saw you."

[dagosd2000]

"Slapsie Maxie" Rosenbloom

[BoxBuzz]

It absolutely amazes me that this guy, who never met a camera he didn't like, does not appear to be in any two contiguous frames of film of him in motion in the ring.

By the way...Kudo's to the artist....very nicely done.

[dagosd2000]

Searching In The Dark

My wife has a sister that lives on the South Side of Chicago that's a train wreck. I hate going there because we stay with them and they don't want to go anywhere but visit their sons in the neighborhood who have kids and sit around and watch Mexican soap operas and talk about everybody. That clan has been there for more than 20 years and still they don't speak English and if you were to call them up they'd answer the phone and say"Bueno." They were illlegals but I don't think they are now but don't ask me how they became legal because that's one explanation I couldn't bear to hear. Last year my sister in law was wating at a traffic light and some guy came up the driver's side and hit her with a brick.

Don't get me wrong. They're nice hospitable people, just is the men walk around with those Mexican cowboy hats they call Tejanas and leather cowboy boots. If you've ever been to the South Side of Chicago it doesn't exactly look like something out of the Cisco Kid.

I get antsy so I always take their car and I become their tour guide. I have to show them the landmarks in a town I haven't been back to since I was a kid in Little Italy. I take them places that are foreign to them as if they had moved to Mars. Actually they have no real interest seeing places like Wrigley Field to watch a Cubs game or going to the largest natural history museum ,The Field Museum,but I do ,so I don't care what they think. Besides,just going along for the ride is entertainment for them. I know they never go back to any of the places I take them to but it doesn't bother me.

After a late afternoon trip to the Brookfield Zoo I got the idea to return to Polk and Oakley in Little Italy were I was reared . I told the clan in the back seat that I wanted to drive there and got no static. As long as they could talk about the family and Mexico I could have told them I was driving to Canada.

It was getting dark. I had to find my way. No one in my wife's family knew where I was going. I did know that my grandmother sold Diamond Joe's house as part of the deal when they built the University of Illinois at Chicago.

As I groped around the streets I put the back seat out of my mind thinking about when I was kid playing with my cousins Frankie and Joey in the old heighborhood. The store on the corner,when you walked in you could smell the baclava, and look up at the thick skinned provolones tied in twine hanging down from the ceiling and the ladies in front of the meat counter buying the salamis and proscuittos. The cracked olives. The ricotta in the quart buckets. Next door was the bakery that put the hot Italian bread in the big bins twice a day. You always wanted to get there as soon as they filled up those bins. The bread was hot and fresh and smelled wonderfull.

It was a place where a woman could walk down the street even at night and was safe from being bothered. No one would get out of line.No one dared to. Sometimes they'd find a gangster dead in an alley,but that was between those guys.

Sometimes we'd walk down the street by the knife sharpener, who honed the knives with the stone grinding wheel he peddled with his feet,to the Greeks and buy the fried bolony sandwiches.Afterwards we'd go to the guy with cart making the shaved ices with the sweet thick syrups.My favorie was the tamarindo.

My dad would sometimes take us to Maxwell Street and we'd see all the people milling around looking for a deal from all the pitchmen who sold everything from shoes to silverware to suntan lotions. One time my father bought me one of those gyroscopes. I thought it was the greatest scientific invention of the century. We'd listen to the gospel singers and the blues musicians with their harmonicas and guitars and singing in those Southern raspy voices. My father would always stop at a Kosher Deli and buy a slab of hot pastrami with just enough fat wrapped in butcher paper.

After driving around which seemed like forever I found the university. The corner of Polk and Oakley wasn't even there anymore let alone the old house. It had dissolved into a section of the school parking lot. I could see a bum warming his hands over a fire in a rusty oil drum. That was the spot where I think Diamond Joe's house was. Empty wine bottles and trash were everywhere. It was not a well lit area. I stopped the car.
"Why we stop here?" asked my wife in that tone of hers.
"This was once the neighborhood I grew up in."
"I no like this place,"she said. "And you make fun where my sister lives."
.

[dagosd2000]

It absolutely amazes me that this guy, who never met a camera he didn't like, does not appear to be in any two contiguous frames of film of him in motion in the ring.

By the way...Kudo's to the artist....very nicely done.

Thanks Boxbuzz. It's been me all the time. If you want to see more fighters search under Roger Esty Gallery on Randy De La O's boxing blog site.

[CNorkusJr]

It absolutely amazes me that this guy, who never met a camera he didn't like, does not appear to be in any two contiguous frames of film of him in motion in the ring.

By the way...Kudo's to the artist....very nicely done.

Thanks Boxbuzz. It's been me all the time. If you want to see more fighters search under Roger Esty Gallery on Randy De La O's boxing blog site.

[dagosd2000]

Read where Stan Musial and Earl Weaver passed away. Two old timers with opposite personalities.
Saw Musial in Dodger Stadium in his last playing year. Pinch hit in the top of the 8th. Cards down by a run two out.Runners at the corners. Drysdale throwin' for the Dodgers. First pitch Drysdale moves Musial back. He gets back in the box with that goofy stance with the feet together. Next pitch he slashes a double in the left center gap. Brings home two. Turns out to be the winning runs.

Yeah I can say I saw Stan the Man play.

Have fun fellas' playing ball in the biggest of all ball parks. ByI-Earl if you have too many run ins with the umps up there they might be sent down to you know where.