Lauro Salas
Classic American West Coast Boxing
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dagosd2000
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Lauro Salas
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Congratulations to my friends Frankie Santillan, Tiger Smalls, Harold Lederman and Jose Protillo Lopez on their 2013 induction into the California Boxing Hall of Fame. These were my picks for inductions, and I'm happy that Don Fraser is honoring them as planned. I will be sitting upfront at the table of Gwen Adair for the event. I wouldn't miss my friends induction for anything!
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Did they officially announce the inductees Rick ? and if so where can I find a list of ALL the inductees if you know ? Thanks my friend.El Gallo wrote:Congratulations to my friends Frankie Santillan, Tiger Smalls, Harold Lederman and Jose Protillo Lopez on their 2013 induction into the California Boxing Hall of Fame. These were my picks for inductions, and I'm happy that Don Fraser is honoring them as planned. I will be sitting upfront at the table of Gwen Adair for the event. I wouldn't miss my friends induction for anything!
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
The Fix
"I know they're doing it . I just figure how,"said my cousin Joey sitting in the living room.
"Doing what?"asked my father.
"Fixing the races at the track."
Joey was out here in San Diego to visit his favorite uncle,my father . My aunt named him after my father. They were both a couple of characters who symbolised what the Italian neighborhood was all about. Or at least a big part of it.
"What in the hell are you going to figure out? asked my father.
I was going to the kitchen to make a sandwich,but thought I'd pause to hear this discussion.
"I can't get a handle on it,"said my cousin.
"You've got to be a made guy.A boss to know that kind of thing. They put it together and tell no one."
"But you work for Giancana,"
"So I work for him. He wouldn't share anything like that with me."
"Don't you ever ask?"
"You're dumber than I think."
"I thought you said they fixed the fights at the Chicago Stadium."
"Some of them,but that was never discussed.That was Carbo and Norris .The Outfit knew about it.Ask too many questions is not good for your health."
"Ever go to Del Mar?"
"I used to go to Washington Park,but i couldn't control my gambling."
"I know they've got a way of doing it,"said my cousin.
"I'll let you in on something. Mickey Cohen feeds J Edgar Hoover the winners when he comes out here to the Del Charro."
"Is that so?"
"It's a given secret. Why do you think Hoover never puts heat on the Mob. Besides they they know Hoover sleeps with Clyde Tolson."
"I guess I don't have that kind of clout,"said my cousin.
"You never will,"said my father.
"I know they're doing it . I just figure how,"said my cousin Joey sitting in the living room.
"Doing what?"asked my father.
"Fixing the races at the track."
Joey was out here in San Diego to visit his favorite uncle,my father . My aunt named him after my father. They were both a couple of characters who symbolised what the Italian neighborhood was all about. Or at least a big part of it.
"What in the hell are you going to figure out? asked my father.
I was going to the kitchen to make a sandwich,but thought I'd pause to hear this discussion.
"I can't get a handle on it,"said my cousin.
"You've got to be a made guy.A boss to know that kind of thing. They put it together and tell no one."
"But you work for Giancana,"
"So I work for him. He wouldn't share anything like that with me."
"Don't you ever ask?"
"You're dumber than I think."
"I thought you said they fixed the fights at the Chicago Stadium."
"Some of them,but that was never discussed.That was Carbo and Norris .The Outfit knew about it.Ask too many questions is not good for your health."
"Ever go to Del Mar?"
"I used to go to Washington Park,but i couldn't control my gambling."
"I know they've got a way of doing it,"said my cousin.
"I'll let you in on something. Mickey Cohen feeds J Edgar Hoover the winners when he comes out here to the Del Charro."
"Is that so?"
"It's a given secret. Why do you think Hoover never puts heat on the Mob. Besides they they know Hoover sleeps with Clyde Tolson."
"I guess I don't have that kind of clout,"said my cousin.
"You never will,"said my father.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Don Jordan
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Hi guys. I've been following the thread daily. We are on an excelerated schedule following the lockout. Ten of our first twelve games were on the road. We are off to the best start in NHL history at 17-0-3. We haven't lost in regulation yet this season. Our streak hit 20 games tonight in ST Louis. The previous record was 16 games. Again,thanks for the great stuff here guys. I check in daily on the road.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Rog,do you think all of the stuff Jordan talked about in the book "in this corner"by Peter Heller was true?dagosd2000 wrote:
Don Jordan
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Brian,I never read the book,but I did read excerpts from it. Especially about all the guys he supposed to have killed. The guy was a little off in the head. You have to have it together to be a "hit man." I don't think he would have been that carefull.Evidence of that is he talked about it. Besides Heller knew the more outragious the story the more copies you sell.Expug wrote:Rog,do you think all of the stuff Jordan talked about in the book "in this corner"by Peter Heller was true?dagosd2000 wrote:
Don Jordan
Go Blackhawks!!!
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Into The Shade
Victor trained at the gym at the corner of 10th and Broadway in Nat City after he drove the delivery truck. After working out he'd walk a block up the street and have a drink with Sergio the bartender. His apartment where he lived with his wife and two daighters was around the corner from the bar.
"The usual?" asked Sergio.
"Bourbon with a water chaser,"said the fighter.
"When's your next fight?"
"I've got one coming up next week. There'll be a couple of tickets waiting for you at the door."
"Thanks,"said Sergio as he put the glasses down."Who are you fighting?"
"They're bringing some guy out from Oklahoma."
"Ever see him fight?"
"No. Never."
Victor took a drink from the shot glass. His hands were gnarled . His skin rough and dark.
"Ever been to Mexicali Sergio?"
"No I haven't."
"It's the hottest place on earth in the summertime. Right in the desert. They put the place there when the Americans made the railroad."
"Didn't you used to work in the fields?"
"My whole family did."
"How'd you start fighting?"
"Believe it or not the gym was the coolest place in town. I could get into the shade."
"That's a new one."
"Fought amateur there and then turned pro."
Sergio poured himself a drink.
"You know Sergio,I won my first six fights and then lost my next six."
Sergio took a drink from his glass.
"I 've been in with some good ones.I helped Louie Rodriguez get ready for his fight down here. I was on the under card on that one."
"I remember,"said the bartender. "You won ."
Victor looked at himself in the mirror behind the bar. He put his hands across the scars above his eyes.
"Sergio,I'm fighting for all the wrong reasons."
"How's that?"
"If you're going to do this you've got to want to shoot for the top. Want to be a champion. I'll never be one. I don't have the ability."
"Then why do it? Need the money?"
"I'm not making enough fighting to make it worth my while."
"How's the wife feel about it?"
"She lets me do what I want. She'll let me know when it's time to stop."
Victor lightly rubbed his fingers over the scartissue.
"Marciano once said the thing that made him quit was he couldn't stand the smell of the gym anymore. Funny,I like the way the gym smells. That dank closed in smell of the canvas and leather. It's old.I can smell the sweat of all the years."
Victor finished his bourbon and followed it with the glass of water.
"Have another?"asked Sergio.
"No," said the fighter still looking in the mirror. "The wife has dinner waiting. Besides I have a fight next week."
Victor trained at the gym at the corner of 10th and Broadway in Nat City after he drove the delivery truck. After working out he'd walk a block up the street and have a drink with Sergio the bartender. His apartment where he lived with his wife and two daighters was around the corner from the bar.
"The usual?" asked Sergio.
"Bourbon with a water chaser,"said the fighter.
"When's your next fight?"
"I've got one coming up next week. There'll be a couple of tickets waiting for you at the door."
"Thanks,"said Sergio as he put the glasses down."Who are you fighting?"
"They're bringing some guy out from Oklahoma."
"Ever see him fight?"
"No. Never."
Victor took a drink from the shot glass. His hands were gnarled . His skin rough and dark.
"Ever been to Mexicali Sergio?"
"No I haven't."
"It's the hottest place on earth in the summertime. Right in the desert. They put the place there when the Americans made the railroad."
"Didn't you used to work in the fields?"
"My whole family did."
"How'd you start fighting?"
"Believe it or not the gym was the coolest place in town. I could get into the shade."
"That's a new one."
"Fought amateur there and then turned pro."
Sergio poured himself a drink.
"You know Sergio,I won my first six fights and then lost my next six."
Sergio took a drink from his glass.
"I 've been in with some good ones.I helped Louie Rodriguez get ready for his fight down here. I was on the under card on that one."
"I remember,"said the bartender. "You won ."
Victor looked at himself in the mirror behind the bar. He put his hands across the scars above his eyes.
"Sergio,I'm fighting for all the wrong reasons."
"How's that?"
"If you're going to do this you've got to want to shoot for the top. Want to be a champion. I'll never be one. I don't have the ability."
"Then why do it? Need the money?"
"I'm not making enough fighting to make it worth my while."
"How's the wife feel about it?"
"She lets me do what I want. She'll let me know when it's time to stop."
Victor lightly rubbed his fingers over the scartissue.
"Marciano once said the thing that made him quit was he couldn't stand the smell of the gym anymore. Funny,I like the way the gym smells. That dank closed in smell of the canvas and leather. It's old.I can smell the sweat of all the years."
Victor finished his bourbon and followed it with the glass of water.
"Have another?"asked Sergio.
"No," said the fighter still looking in the mirror. "The wife has dinner waiting. Besides I have a fight next week."
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
The Knockout
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Word from the West Coast is trickling out in pieces here- California Boxing HOF has slated George Foreman, Andre Ward, [Chris Arreola ??] as going in so far.along with those mentioned by Rick above.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Joe Brazil
Joe Brazil was the name my father used when he'd call the FBI. He wasn't a snitch or anything like that,but years ago when Hoover was still in charge and mobs like the Outfit in Chicago had pretty much carte blanche,some of those made guys would come out to San Diego to see my father.I remember Frank LaPorte and Jackie Cerone. Real nice happy go lucky Italians. After they'd leave,the FBI would drop in.
There was never any ill feelings, and after a while it became more or less social calls. The Special Agent In Charge in San Diego was a man named Jack Armstrong. (I ain't making that up). After he retired and Hoover was dead,Jack Armstrong and my father would often have lunch. Jack wanted to hear stories about Prohibition days and what was the Outfit like after that.
You know the story of my grand father Diamond Joe,my dad's dad. He was the Don back then in the early 20's. Capone,Giancana,Accardo,and Ricca were young guys that worked for him. It wasn't like going out and killing people,though a lot of Italians got filled with lead in those days,but they learned how to operate on the inside from Diamond Joe.
After Diamond Joe got gunned down walking home from a union meeting,my father lived in Al Capone's house. It was the "honoroble"thing to do to have the next boss take care of the previously deceased boss's son. Well it was stories like this that intrigued Jack Armstrong. And you better believe my father loved sharing them. My father grew up under the patronage of the guys who worked for my grandfather. Sam Giancana was who he took orders from. I know they talked on the phone a lot when we were out here in San Diego.
But as time went on there were less and less phone calls. The Giancanas,the Riccas,and the Frankie LaPortes were dying off. Some with lead in them.
It was better off that my father moved to San Diego. Less trouble to get into ,and besides the Outfit wasn't much interested in the West Coast. My mother was the one though that pushed my father to come out here. She knew there wasn't any future in the rackets. So my father would call Chicago. He made a visit once. At the end things were quiet, except when Joe Brazil would call Jack Armstrong on the phone.
Joe Brazil was the name my father used when he'd call the FBI. He wasn't a snitch or anything like that,but years ago when Hoover was still in charge and mobs like the Outfit in Chicago had pretty much carte blanche,some of those made guys would come out to San Diego to see my father.I remember Frank LaPorte and Jackie Cerone. Real nice happy go lucky Italians. After they'd leave,the FBI would drop in.
There was never any ill feelings, and after a while it became more or less social calls. The Special Agent In Charge in San Diego was a man named Jack Armstrong. (I ain't making that up). After he retired and Hoover was dead,Jack Armstrong and my father would often have lunch. Jack wanted to hear stories about Prohibition days and what was the Outfit like after that.
You know the story of my grand father Diamond Joe,my dad's dad. He was the Don back then in the early 20's. Capone,Giancana,Accardo,and Ricca were young guys that worked for him. It wasn't like going out and killing people,though a lot of Italians got filled with lead in those days,but they learned how to operate on the inside from Diamond Joe.
After Diamond Joe got gunned down walking home from a union meeting,my father lived in Al Capone's house. It was the "honoroble"thing to do to have the next boss take care of the previously deceased boss's son. Well it was stories like this that intrigued Jack Armstrong. And you better believe my father loved sharing them. My father grew up under the patronage of the guys who worked for my grandfather. Sam Giancana was who he took orders from. I know they talked on the phone a lot when we were out here in San Diego.
But as time went on there were less and less phone calls. The Giancanas,the Riccas,and the Frankie LaPortes were dying off. Some with lead in them.
It was better off that my father moved to San Diego. Less trouble to get into ,and besides the Outfit wasn't much interested in the West Coast. My mother was the one though that pushed my father to come out here. She knew there wasn't any future in the rackets. So my father would call Chicago. He made a visit once. At the end things were quiet, except when Joe Brazil would call Jack Armstrong on the phone.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Al Capone with my father at Wrigley Field. Capone is talking to Gabby Hartnet. Behind Capone is his body guard Machine Gun Jack McGurn. Some historions got my father confused with Al's son "Sonny" in this picture. I wonder what my father did with the ball?
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Good stuff there Roger !!! I'm sure you got a treasure trove of writing material there and the picture is a one-of-a-kind classic. Thanks for sharing.dagosd2000 wrote:
Al Capone with my father at Wrigley Field. Capone is talking to Gabby Hartnet. Behind Capone is his body guard Machine Gun Jack McGurn. Some historions got my father confused with Al's son "Sonny" in this picture. I wonder what my father did with the ball?
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
A Song For Brian
You work. Do your job. Some people enjoy it. Some not. Some wouldn't change it for anything. It's their passion. But there's the time when work doesn't have it's place in the day. For most, this time is at night. For many it's a time to spend with the family. Sometimes the family is not there. One is away.Perhaps working somewhere else.
Some call this space down time. Slack time. What to do? There's the TV. The Late Show. A Bible on the nightstand. Read the papers. Go to a boxing forum and catch up. There's always a bar around. Many go to the bar. Some stay too long.
A story to read is better. Time to reflect and relax, and then go to sleep.A lot prefer it that way. Besides, when you wake up in the morning you don't have a headache.
You work. Do your job. Some people enjoy it. Some not. Some wouldn't change it for anything. It's their passion. But there's the time when work doesn't have it's place in the day. For most, this time is at night. For many it's a time to spend with the family. Sometimes the family is not there. One is away.Perhaps working somewhere else.
Some call this space down time. Slack time. What to do? There's the TV. The Late Show. A Bible on the nightstand. Read the papers. Go to a boxing forum and catch up. There's always a bar around. Many go to the bar. Some stay too long.
A story to read is better. Time to reflect and relax, and then go to sleep.A lot prefer it that way. Besides, when you wake up in the morning you don't have a headache.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Joey Lopes
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Feet Of Clay
San Diego back in the mid 60's and 70's was a reflection of how popular the sport was in the So Cal /Tijuana region.It was, to use the old cliche,"a hot bed". San Diego backed their local fighters,but knew eventually if they started to make good, would move on to bigger venues. Often, when their careers hit the downslide they'd wind up trading leather at the old Coliseum again.
Fighters who were discharged from the service or had gone through boot camp in San Diego were always a good draw.Kenny Norton was an example. I remember another guy around the same time. His name was Clay Sanders.
He was a Marine who was stationed at Camp Pendleton and had fought amateur fights while serving his country. He had an impressive amateur record and even had a win over Jerry Quarry.
I remember his pro debut at the Coliseum. A 4 round prelim.
Sanders was tall and gangly ,blonde hair,fair skinned. I can't remember the name of the guy he was fighting except he was a black fighter from somewhere back East. Sanders was about a head taller and I figured it wouldn't last too long. But after the the first round Sanders didn't show anything. He was slow,awkward,slapped with his punches,and waved his jab. This, and not to mention he stood right in front of his guy.
But the black fighter from back East didn't seem intersted in mounting an attack and after 4 rounds the ref raised Sanders hand. He won because he at least moved forward.
The crowd was satisfied,but I thought this Sanders doesn't have it. He wasn't blessed with any power or speed that a trainer could mold into anything.
Sanders fought a couple of more 4 round prelims at the Coliseum. He was as big a draw as the main eventers. The last time I saw him fight he was in there with another black kid from back East. This time Sanders though found himself on his back twice in the first minute. I said to the guy next to me that now was the time Sanders would be exposed. The guy next to me was an older guy with a loud sport jacket and was chain smoking.
"I'll bet you 20 bucks Sanders beats this guy,"he said.
Well I'm smart enough to know this fight won't go another round so I said,"Your on old man."
The bell rings for frame two and the black kid from back East must have gotten an attack of Polio in his arms between rounds. He doesn't throw a punch for the next nine minutes. Again Sanders hand is raised. I shook my head and reached for my wallet. The old man sitting next to me laughed.
"Keep you money son. I knew he'd win."
After that they moved Sanders up in competition for a 6 rounder at the Olympic in Los Angeles. Some fighter broke his jaw and Sanders never fought again.Not even back to the Coliseum. Got me thinking though. How did this Sanders ever beat Jerry Quarry? Maybe if I ran into that old man wearing the loud sport jacket,he could tell me.
San Diego back in the mid 60's and 70's was a reflection of how popular the sport was in the So Cal /Tijuana region.It was, to use the old cliche,"a hot bed". San Diego backed their local fighters,but knew eventually if they started to make good, would move on to bigger venues. Often, when their careers hit the downslide they'd wind up trading leather at the old Coliseum again.
Fighters who were discharged from the service or had gone through boot camp in San Diego were always a good draw.Kenny Norton was an example. I remember another guy around the same time. His name was Clay Sanders.
He was a Marine who was stationed at Camp Pendleton and had fought amateur fights while serving his country. He had an impressive amateur record and even had a win over Jerry Quarry.
I remember his pro debut at the Coliseum. A 4 round prelim.
Sanders was tall and gangly ,blonde hair,fair skinned. I can't remember the name of the guy he was fighting except he was a black fighter from somewhere back East. Sanders was about a head taller and I figured it wouldn't last too long. But after the the first round Sanders didn't show anything. He was slow,awkward,slapped with his punches,and waved his jab. This, and not to mention he stood right in front of his guy.
But the black fighter from back East didn't seem intersted in mounting an attack and after 4 rounds the ref raised Sanders hand. He won because he at least moved forward.
The crowd was satisfied,but I thought this Sanders doesn't have it. He wasn't blessed with any power or speed that a trainer could mold into anything.
Sanders fought a couple of more 4 round prelims at the Coliseum. He was as big a draw as the main eventers. The last time I saw him fight he was in there with another black kid from back East. This time Sanders though found himself on his back twice in the first minute. I said to the guy next to me that now was the time Sanders would be exposed. The guy next to me was an older guy with a loud sport jacket and was chain smoking.
"I'll bet you 20 bucks Sanders beats this guy,"he said.
Well I'm smart enough to know this fight won't go another round so I said,"Your on old man."
The bell rings for frame two and the black kid from back East must have gotten an attack of Polio in his arms between rounds. He doesn't throw a punch for the next nine minutes. Again Sanders hand is raised. I shook my head and reached for my wallet. The old man sitting next to me laughed.
"Keep you money son. I knew he'd win."
After that they moved Sanders up in competition for a 6 rounder at the Olympic in Los Angeles. Some fighter broke his jaw and Sanders never fought again.Not even back to the Coliseum. Got me thinking though. How did this Sanders ever beat Jerry Quarry? Maybe if I ran into that old man wearing the loud sport jacket,he could tell me.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Bobby Pacho
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Beautiful Rog, thanks.dagosd2000 wrote:A Song For Brian
You work. Do your job. Some people enjoy it. Some not. Some wouldn't change it for anything. It's their passion. But there's the time when work doesn't have it's place in the day. For most, this time is at night. For many it's a time to spend with the family. Sometimes the family is not there. One is away.Perhaps working somewhere else.
Some call this space down time. Slack time. What to do? There's the TV. The Late Show. A Bible on the nightstand. Read the papers. Go to a boxing forum and catch up. There's always a bar around. Many go to the bar. Some stay too long.
A story to read is better. Time to reflect and relax, and then go to sleep.A lot prefer it that way. Besides, when you wake up in the morning you don't have a headache.
Life on the road can be lonely for sure. I love my job,and the people Im with are wonderful so things are great. the down time as you mentioned though have to be navigated properly. in transient situations traveling around, there are places and folks who need to be avoided at all costs...
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Dan is the best friend a man can have. He is my brother.dagosd2000 wrote:
Father and Son
I believed that we were going to miss Pops at this past year's Hall of Fame event, but we could feel his presence. He was with us.
Dan and I have a lot to do together with regard to Veteran boxers, events, interviews on camera and in print.
And Pops will always be with us.
And Thank you to Roger for posting these great pics from a few years back.
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
dagosd2000 wrote:Feet Of Clay
San Diego back in the mid 60's and 70's was a reflection of how popular the sport was in the So Cal /Tijuana region.It was, to use the old cliche,"a hot bed". San Diego backed their local fighters,but knew eventually if they started to make good, would move on to bigger venues. Often, when their careers hit the downslide they'd wind up trading leather at the old Coliseum again.
Fighters who were discharged from the service or had gone through boot camp in San Diego were always a good draw.Kenny Norton was an example. I remember another guy around the same time. His name was Clay Sanders.
He was a Marine who was stationed at Camp Pendleton and had fought amateur fights while serving his country. He had an impressive amateur record and even had a win over Jerry Quarry.
I remember his pro debut at the Coliseum. A 4 round prelim.
Sanders was tall and gangly ,blonde hair,fair skinned. I can't remember the name of the guy he was fighting except he was a black fighter from somewhere back East. Sanders was about a head taller and I figured it wouldn't last too long. But after the the first round Sanders didn't show anything. He was slow,awkward,slapped with his punches,and waved his jab. This, and not to mention he stood right in front of his guy.
But the black fighter from back East didn't seem intersted in mounting an attack and after 4 rounds the ref raised Sanders hand. He won because he at least moved forward.
The crowd was satisfied,but I thought this Sanders doesn't have it. He wasn't blessed with any power or speed that a trainer could mold into anything.
Sanders fought a couple of more 4 round prelims at the Coliseum. He was as big a draw as the main eventers. The last time I saw him fight he was in there with another black kid from back East. This time Sanders though found himself on his back twice in the first minute. I said to the guy next to me that now was the time Sanders would be exposed. The guy next to me was an older guy with a loud sport jacket and was chain smoking.
"I'll bet you 20 bucks Sanders beats this guy,"he said.
Well I'm smart enough to know this fight won't go another round so I said,"Your on old man."
The bell rings for frame two and the black kid from back East must have gotten an attack of Polio in his arms between rounds. He doesn't throw a punch for the next nine minutes. Again Sanders hand is raised. I shook my head and reached for my wallet. The old man sitting next to me laughed.
"Keep you money son. I knew he'd win."
After that they moved Sanders up in competition for a 6 rounder at the Olympic in Los Angeles. Some fighter broke his jaw and Sanders never fought again.Not even back to the Coliseum. Got me thinking though. How did this Sanders ever beat Jerry Quarry? Maybe if I ran into that old man wearing the loud sport jacket,he could tell me.
Clay beat Jerry Quarry, George Foreman twice right before the '68 Olympics, gave Joe Frazier hell in the '64 Olympic trials, and at a very late age turned pro, defeating Jimmy Young in a very short career that ended after a serious injury to his eye. He stood 6'4", had a deadly left jab and hit hard enough to floor Jerry Quarry twice, before being robbed of a decision that would have sent him, not Jerry, to the '65 Golden gloves Championships Nationals. Jerry KOed five straight in Kansas City to win the National title. Clay would come back and win the National title in '67 He was described as a career amateur, but he could fight!
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
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- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
La Curandera
For years I could see her house in the bosque below the mountain. As I drove by I could see people sitting on her porch waiting to tell her their problems and if she had an answer for them.She was a mystic. A seer. Someone,they said, who was given powers to see things the normal were blind to.
My sister in law in Jiquilpan was having difficulty with her husband. They had been married for many years and had seven children,but he had grown tired of her and ignored her. He was seen in town with another woman and sometimes he would not come home at night.
My wife's sister asked if I would drive her to the bosque to see the Curandera. What always got me is that the Catholic religion forbade worhipping false prophets. My sister in law was very Catholic,but like so many poor they were also superstitious.
The Curandera has different names in Latin America and their religious ties go far back to the indigenous tribes. But the Church had a powerfull impact in Latin America and though the Indians did not want to completely lose their beliefs,the Curanderas bonded Catholicism into their way of thinking.
I drove my wife and her sister on the winding bumpy dirt road to the Curandera's house. There were old and sick people sitting on chairs on the porch. Some women held babies in blankets.Some held rosaries. A woman came outside and told us to wait. After waiting on the porch with the others for about a half hour,the woman came outside again and said we could see the Curandera.
The Curandera was heavy and old and her iron gray hair was braided down her back. She was drinking something out of a tiny cup.Around the room on tables were lit candles and statues of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Above the Curandera hanging on the wall was a large wooden crucifix. The woman who was with the Curandera said that my sister in law should make her offering. My sister in law put a 100 peso note in a basket beside the Curandera.
"I see you have come to ask me about someone close to you. Very close. You have know this person a long time,"said the Curandera looking slightly up.
The Curandera slowly picked up the cup and drank. Her tiny hands were adorned with big rings.
"It is my husband,"said my sister in law."I can't understand why he doesn't love me anymore."
The Curandera put down the cup and looked at my sister in law.
"You have let yourself go. You need to be more presentable. A man like your husband still has the urge. You must want him to have the urge with you.But maybe that time is gone."
The Curandera looked away and whispered something to the other woman.
"The senora is very tired,"she said."She says to you all not to forsake God and through his work prayers will be answered."
Then they both walked out of the room.
Back in the car my sister in law looked worried and apprehensive as before.
"Rogelio,"she said to me."Do you think you could drive me and Maria to the salon?"
"Sure.Whatever you want,"I said.
For years I could see her house in the bosque below the mountain. As I drove by I could see people sitting on her porch waiting to tell her their problems and if she had an answer for them.She was a mystic. A seer. Someone,they said, who was given powers to see things the normal were blind to.
My sister in law in Jiquilpan was having difficulty with her husband. They had been married for many years and had seven children,but he had grown tired of her and ignored her. He was seen in town with another woman and sometimes he would not come home at night.
My wife's sister asked if I would drive her to the bosque to see the Curandera. What always got me is that the Catholic religion forbade worhipping false prophets. My sister in law was very Catholic,but like so many poor they were also superstitious.
The Curandera has different names in Latin America and their religious ties go far back to the indigenous tribes. But the Church had a powerfull impact in Latin America and though the Indians did not want to completely lose their beliefs,the Curanderas bonded Catholicism into their way of thinking.
I drove my wife and her sister on the winding bumpy dirt road to the Curandera's house. There were old and sick people sitting on chairs on the porch. Some women held babies in blankets.Some held rosaries. A woman came outside and told us to wait. After waiting on the porch with the others for about a half hour,the woman came outside again and said we could see the Curandera.
The Curandera was heavy and old and her iron gray hair was braided down her back. She was drinking something out of a tiny cup.Around the room on tables were lit candles and statues of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Above the Curandera hanging on the wall was a large wooden crucifix. The woman who was with the Curandera said that my sister in law should make her offering. My sister in law put a 100 peso note in a basket beside the Curandera.
"I see you have come to ask me about someone close to you. Very close. You have know this person a long time,"said the Curandera looking slightly up.
The Curandera slowly picked up the cup and drank. Her tiny hands were adorned with big rings.
"It is my husband,"said my sister in law."I can't understand why he doesn't love me anymore."
The Curandera put down the cup and looked at my sister in law.
"You have let yourself go. You need to be more presentable. A man like your husband still has the urge. You must want him to have the urge with you.But maybe that time is gone."
The Curandera looked away and whispered something to the other woman.
"The senora is very tired,"she said."She says to you all not to forsake God and through his work prayers will be answered."
Then they both walked out of the room.
Back in the car my sister in law looked worried and apprehensive as before.
"Rogelio,"she said to me."Do you think you could drive me and Maria to the salon?"
"Sure.Whatever you want,"I said.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Chango Carmona
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
I Can't Remember
Before picking up my grand daughter from school,I take my two dogs to the dog park so that they can run around and play and chase the ball. As I pulled up to the gate I could see Jesse sitting on the bench with his Scottish Terrier.The sign on the gate read,"Nobel Neighborhood Park." I pushed open the gate and shouted to Jesse.
"Hey,old man how's it going?"
"Pretty good if it don't rain."
"They say a storm is coming up from Mexico."
I unleashed my dogs and sat next to him.
"What kind of dogs are those?"he asked.
"Some kind of poodle mix."
"They look alike."
"They're sisters from different litters.They're rescue dogs."
"Still puppies I can see."
"The smaller one is one years old. The other is a year and a half."
"What's their names?"
"Sol and Estrella."
"So you've got the sun and a star,"said the old Mexican.
Jesse was an ex fighter. I used to watch him fight a lot at the Coliseum.
"Isn't the sun and a star the same thing? ,"he asked.
"Yes it is."
We watched our dogs playing with each other.
"I see you're writing everday on the forum,"he said.
"So far."
"Do you ever get writer's block?"
"I don't look at it that way. It's not blocked. Just nothing comes out."
"Worry about that?"
"Sometimes,but what can I do?"
The old fighter picked up the tennis ball and threw it. All three dogs chased it.
"You know Roger I had close to 70 fights and I hardly remember any of them."
"I can't remember sometimes what I've written."
"I wonder if that's a sign of old age?"
"I don't think so. There's just more things going on now that you have to think about."
The dogs tongues' were hanging. They went to the water bowl.
"Well ,I think they're tired out,"I said.
""Me too,"saidJesse."I think I'll go home."
"I might see you tomorrow then."
"Yes,if it doesn't rain."
Before picking up my grand daughter from school,I take my two dogs to the dog park so that they can run around and play and chase the ball. As I pulled up to the gate I could see Jesse sitting on the bench with his Scottish Terrier.The sign on the gate read,"Nobel Neighborhood Park." I pushed open the gate and shouted to Jesse.
"Hey,old man how's it going?"
"Pretty good if it don't rain."
"They say a storm is coming up from Mexico."
I unleashed my dogs and sat next to him.
"What kind of dogs are those?"he asked.
"Some kind of poodle mix."
"They look alike."
"They're sisters from different litters.They're rescue dogs."
"Still puppies I can see."
"The smaller one is one years old. The other is a year and a half."
"What's their names?"
"Sol and Estrella."
"So you've got the sun and a star,"said the old Mexican.
Jesse was an ex fighter. I used to watch him fight a lot at the Coliseum.
"Isn't the sun and a star the same thing? ,"he asked.
"Yes it is."
We watched our dogs playing with each other.
"I see you're writing everday on the forum,"he said.
"So far."
"Do you ever get writer's block?"
"I don't look at it that way. It's not blocked. Just nothing comes out."
"Worry about that?"
"Sometimes,but what can I do?"
The old fighter picked up the tennis ball and threw it. All three dogs chased it.
"You know Roger I had close to 70 fights and I hardly remember any of them."
"I can't remember sometimes what I've written."
"I wonder if that's a sign of old age?"
"I don't think so. There's just more things going on now that you have to think about."
The dogs tongues' were hanging. They went to the water bowl.
"Well ,I think they're tired out,"I said.
""Me too,"saidJesse."I think I'll go home."
"I might see you tomorrow then."
"Yes,if it doesn't rain."
Last edited by dagosd2000 on 06 Mar 2013, 12:49, edited 1 time in total.
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dagosd2000
- Heavyweight
- Posts: 8638
- Joined: 01 Sep 2007, 03:31
Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing
Carlos Ortiz in later years.