BoxRec

Two posters from the original Indian Lopez thread that still contribute

http://imgur.com/b1V5Hnj

Dan Hanley with his dad,Pops


http://imgur.com/S0ix6FQ


Chuck Johnston

Oh, my God! Has it been 10 years? Damn, west coast boxing gets under the skin, doesn't it?

scartissue wrote:Oh, my God! Has it been 10 years? Damn, west coast boxing gets under the skin, doesn't it?

Dan,I think the fight game that was out here was ahead of what was going on in New York and back east. Now with the decline of American heavyweights,the boxing activity in the Southland and Mexico is still ahead of what's going on elsewhere in the US even though across the board everything has gone to cable TV and PayPerView. The arenas are just about gone,the weekly cards.I remember the fights were on national TV three nights a week and they had some good boys going at it. The eastern bloc countries have shown some good talent along with the Brits,but I don't know if Americans will get behind them that much. I know they draw big in Europe and their homes are in Western and Eastern Europe. Sometimes I look at a guy like Armando Muniz for instance. He must have a ton of stories,but fighters very seldom put it out there unless they have help with a ghostwriter. Most of the bios and auto bios I've read about fighters are pretty pedestrian.With me,it's not so much about the fights,but what I see underneath,the subtleties,the ironies that breathe a humanity into a sport that is often brutal and unforgiving. Take care pal.

Rewrite

That's a little smug for me to be saying that most writing about boxing is "pedestrian" so now I'll give you a few of my personal opinions about who put their pens to good use when it came to describing the sport. First of all, just about any sportswriter would swap his typewriter to be wearing that championship belt around his waist.Boxing is probably the sport that most sportswriters wish they could have successfully made their reputations at. But a lot of scribes train on cigarettes and booze , eat greasy food, and don't get enough sleep.But they gleam in giving us episodes as possible with bad intentions. Men wish they could be that virile and women take them up on it.

Here's my list of penners who get my attention:Barney Nagler,Dan Parker,W.C. Heinz,Hank Kaplan,Bud Furillo,Allan Malamud,and we had a good one down in San Diego by the name of Jack Murphy.When they put it on paper they new how to keep their distance,not pretending that they were on the inside with all the chummy antecdotes.They were aware that often the fighter was winking at them once in awhile.Yet they had that rough vernacular, laced with a bit of poetry in their speech, that after a reading,we'd put down the paper feeling well nourished.Then there were the fact/fiction combo writers that wrote a story with the poetic license,but we knew alluded to someone real.It was not a fact finding mission,but a tale about a personality.Data was unimportant. It was what the character was made of.So off the top of my head those writers are Hype Igoe,Ring Lardner,Rod Serling,Budd Shulberg,Paul Schrader,and Papa Hemingway.I'll focus a little on 'ol Ernest.

When Hemingway as on ,you couldn't lay a glove on him. However,he wrote a lot of stuff hurriedly and his phony side would emerge. He would even allude to it sometimes between the lines in some of his writings. Two of his boxing tales that are peerless are "The Battler" from his "On Our Time" anthology,and the short story "Fifty Grand."

Hemingway liked the tough guy,maybe not necessarily the guy with the big wallop(though he certainly admired Charley White's left hook),but the fighter who could take it fight after fight because that was his metaphor of what it was to go through life,probably for Ernest.Ad Francis,the expug who rides the rails with his black friend Bugs is a reference to Ad Wolgast the guy who threw caution to the wind so he could break his hands on the other guy's frame. Finally,his style reduced him to a tragic figure who lived his final days in a sanitarium "training" for his rematch with "Battling" Nelson. So we can all look up Wogast's record,but we want to "feel" this man.His behavior tells us more than what the numbers read or even what transpired inside the ring.Hemingway's description of Ad Francis:

"The man looked at Nick and smiled in the firelight.Nick saw that his face was misshapen.His nose was sunken.His eyes were slits.He had queer shaped lips.Nick did not perceive this all at once.He only saw that the man's face was queerly formed at mutilated.It was like putty in color.Dead looking in the firelight."

When Ad Francis tells Nick that he's crazy,He then asks Nick if he's the same way.Nick says he isn't crazy. When Ad tells Bugs that Nick told him he wasn't crazy,Bugs replies"Well he's got a lot comin' to him."Personal references come to mind.

Dialogue that jump starts the imagination. Imagery painted in dreams.

Jack Brennan the old champ in Fifty Grand was the ghost of Jack Britton,the welter champ with over 300 fights.Here's a taste of what his makeup was.

"Jack started training over at Danny Hogan's health Farm in Jersey.It was nice out there but Jack didn't like it much.He didn't like it being away from his wife and kids,and he was sore and grouchy most of the time.He liked me and we got along fine together,and he liked Hogan,but after awhile Soldier Bartlett(Soldier Bartfield) commenced to get on his nerves.A kidder gets to be an awful thing around camp especially if his stuff goes kind of sour.It wasn't very funny and it wasn't very good and it began to get to Jack.It was sort of stuff like this.Jack would finish with the weights and the bags and then pull on the gloves. 'You want to work?' he'd say to Soldier.'Sure how you want me to work?'Soldier would ask.'You want me to treat you rough like Walcott? Want me to knock you down a few times?''That's it,' Jack would say but he didn't like it though.After going on like that ,Jack finally had had enough of Soldier Bartlett.'You better go back to town and stay there' was the last command to the kidder.

When Hemingway paints us the image of Jack wearing a sweater and an old pair of pants and boxing shoes,needing a shave looking "Irish and tough" ,we see a fighter.We get it right away.

Nothing pedestrian here,and no phony hyperbole with gaudy adjectives that don't make sense.Fighters may not be the erudite types with a bunch of degrees hanging on their walls,but they can see things in a truer light than most folks. You don't want to try to bullshit them or clown around ,especially if it's laced with sarcasm.If you lead with that stuff, you're lucky if you get the cold shoulder. Most of the time it's just a quick smirk. So I keep most of my opinions to myself when I'm around fighters.But I know I've made some headway when a fighter starts talking to me about my artwork. I belong,kinda'.

http://imgur.com/u6LYzhn

Papa Hemingway

He Saw 'Em and I Didn't

When I was growing up watching the weekly menu of fights on the television,sating my appetites on pugilistic bill o fares like ,Kid Gavilan,Emile Griffith,Sugar Ray Robinson, and Carmen Basilio,I would always wonder why Nat Fleischer,the editor of his "Bible Of Boxing",The Ring Magazine, would list the contemporary boxers near or at the bottom(within their weight categories) of his all time top ten rankings. More than often you couldn't find a name like Kid Gavilan or Archie Moore printed on the inside page of Fleischer's "All Time Ranking Of World Boxers".As I'm typing away right now I have the 1974 edition of The Ring Record book in front of me. Nope... I don't see Moore nor Gavilan in the top ten. No Sandy Saddler.I don't see Bob Foster.Ezzaed Charles ain't on there.Where's Ali? Fleischer was a funny guy with Ali.Though all the commissions stripped Ali of his title because he wouldn't go into the Army,Fleischer and his magazine,The Ring,wouldn't remove Clay(Fleischer insisted to still call him Cassius Clay)from his championship pedestal.

But when fledgling fans like myself would petition for the current fighter to break in to Nat's list,he would always say something like,"Sonny,you weren't around in the days when I saw Ruby Robert or The Boilermaker.Lil' Arthur and Sam Langford.Joe Gans. No you never saw those guys."No,I hadn't. What little there was of the aforementioned on grainy film was all that I could make a judgement on.But Nat would go on about back in his day fighters fought 40 rounders or to the bloody bitter end with no mouthpieces and stood over a fallen opponent ready to pounce on him if he quivered.Fighters were tougher then Nat surmised.Looking at Nat's list I guess he thought Fitzsimmons could wup Joe Louis and Clay and Foreman.Stanley Ketchel would have Ray Robinson's number.Archie Moore would be no match for Kid McCoy.And Bob Foster better not get in there with Jack Root if he knew what was good for him.Sandy Saddler would surely get a thumpin' from Jem Driscoll.

Am I saying that Nat Fleischer was blowing smoke?Remember I'm the guy who's not into making lists or asking the hypothetical question of who could have beaten who. I read somewhere that some sportswriter told Jake LaMotta that he was the best middleweight since Stanley Ketchel.Jake said to himself,"This guy never even saw Stanley Ketchel and neither have I. How the hell does he draw that conclusion?"(something like that).

The other day a young fighter, who was training in Tiger Smalls new gym, I overheard say that Mayweather was the best fighter there ever was.I just sat on the bench continuing to watch the lad work up a sweat. I know I sure wasn't going to refute his statement.The kid is in the ring getting pumched in the head.If I would of had Nat Fleischer's phone number, I would have given it to him.

http://imgur.com/08VpfGv

Stanley Ketchel

Whitey's Old Man

I liked Whitey's old man. He was kind of different from the other fathers.We called him Bert which was short for Bertolino.Most of our dads were in World War II.Whitey's dad was in the first one with General Pershing over in France.Whitey's dad was born in Modena in Italy and came over here with his parents when he was just a kid. His parents bought a farm in the Panhandle of Texas and raised mostly chickens. Whitey's dad said he didn't learn how to speak English until he got in the Army.He was what you'd call a scrawny type,bony looking.He showed his years.He had a beak of a nose.i think all that hot sun and hard work on that chicken farm took its toll. He said he rode the rails in the Depression like it was no big deal. After awhile he lost all his teeth and never bothered to get something like dentures to fill up the hole, He walked a slow gait coming up from the bus stop on the corner to his place.He was always wearing his beret wherever he went.He worked all his life at Frost's Lumber Yard at the foot of Broadway by the rail road tracks where the line ends. He never had a car. Before he moved into the duplex, that his wife had bought with her inheritance,the family lived in a little two bedroom wood house across the street from the grammar school.After Whitey's mom died,Whitey and his father lived in one side of the duplex while Whitey's brother and wife and their three kids lived on the other side. Whitey and his older brother and sister when they were kids would cry at Christmas time because they wouldn't get any presents or have a tree.You see Bert was a horse racing degenerate.He spent just about every nickel he made at the track or the off track betting parlor that was on Revolution Street.(Those were the times when there wasn't all the computer screens. Aside from the tote board in the middle of the infield,all the horses' names, results,pay offs, and odds were hand written in different color chalks by men who could draw beautifully on the slate boards that adorned the walls inside the race track and at the off book)Bert wanted to get his hands on his wife's inheritance money,but to her credit she put her foot down.She wanted something to go to the kids. By Monday he was broke and would tell his crying kids and wife that "I felt lucky,that's all."And they were supposed to buy that because if they put up a stink they'd all get a beating.

Whitey's dad stuck to certain things he liked and wouldn't waver.He rolled his own Bull Durhams,ate mostly soft food because he had a bad stomach,and didn't drink unless it was real hot and he'd have one beer.He subscribed to The Sporting News when all they reported on was baseball,horse racing,and boxing.He liked those three sports and was very knowledgeable except when it came to the ponies I guess because almost every weekend he just kept feeding the horses. Bert was also an authority on jazz,the Bix Beiderbeck,Armstrong and that New Orleans Dixieland sound was what he went for.He could talk with confidence and drawing on first hand experience on all those topics.

One day while at Bert was ready to take off for the track,he sat with me while I was watching a football game.
"I don't understand this sport,"said Bert with his hand rubbing his chin.
"You came from an era when football wasn't that popular yet,"I said.
"Never cared for it and never will,"said Bert.
"You said you were at Toledo when Dempsey fought Willard?"
"I thought I told you about that."
Bert made himself comfortable in the chair.
"Damnest thing I ever saw,"said Bert."Dempsey jumped out of the ring after the first round. I was sitting right there at his feet when he jumped out of the ring."
Bert got up from the chair and began wringing his hands.
"Dempsey then takes off his gloves and all the hand wraps and throws all that stuff under the ring. They had to put a new pair of gloves him so he could continue to fight.The referee is yelling at him to get back in the ring or he's gonna' get disqualified. Willard wanted to keep on fighting.Damnest thing I ever saw,"said the old timer.
"They say that Dempsey's gloves we loaded,"I said.
"Dempsey had Doc Kearns with him. He'd been probably doing that all the while when he fighting out West.Dempsey went a long way with Doc Kearns calling the shots."
Bert asked me what time it was.
"Roger,I got to get to the bus stop.Going to Caliente.I feel lucky,"he said.

Well ,there's a guy who saw it. I never told Bert about that time when I was kid of around ten years old and my old man takes me down on lower Market Street to Bob Johnstons Sports Palace Bar and there in the back room is Bob and his brother Charley, who was handling Archie Moore, and an old Doc Kearns who was the middle of all that. I remember Kearns repeating the story about Dempsey and how Kearns put the plaster of Paris on the wraps like it was nothing at all.Sitting in that dingy back room of that honky tonk saloon, with winos and bums occupying the stools and worn out booths with the padding sticking out from the holes, being there in a smoky room with the Johnston brothers,Doc Kearns and my old man, I was thinking of the story of Daniel in the LIon's Den.


http://imgur.com/SMoYDll

Jack Dempsey

All I Know Is What I read In The Papers

I think it was Mark Twain or Teddy Roosevelt who came up with that quote,"All I know is what I read in the papers." Back then, if you weren't there to see it,taste it,or smell it,you had to either take someone else's word or read about it in the papers. I can tell you what it's like to get slapped in the face,but words just try to elicit some sort of conception I have about getting smacked in the kisser. So when we read history,we can either put our faith with the author,doubt what he says to be true,or find another source of information.There's been a lot written about what happened in boxing a long time ago before there was radio or television.Silent pictures were around and once in awhile they'd film a fight. I think Edison's first venture with celluloid was of a boxing match.

Words ,whether they come out of one's mouth or are printed out on paper, are used to persuade,mold,and shape opinions.There's always a personal agenda behind the verbalizing,It can't be helped. Some people might call it propaganda.Some say it's lying.It could be construed as a mind control tool.But what the hell!Who's going to go around not saying anything all day long? On the forum I give my two cents without anyone asking to watch what I have to talk about. In public,I try not to meddle,but too often my cockiness will lend me to boast.I get caught up in myself. That's why the writers who have the job to do to editorializing every day of the week can stray off their paths to the Pulitzer Prize. Sportswriters can really get down and dirty when they are trying to "scoop" their rivals for a story. "Fake news" has been around in sports longer than when Teddy Roosevelt charged up San Juan Hill.

When I was first reading about boxing lore, my primary reference was Ring Magazine. I was led to believe that the great Benny Leonard ,when he fought for Jack Britton's welterweight crown,purposely fouled Britton when Jack was on one knee after he was hit below the belt in the 13th round. The Ring scribes said that Benny "didn't want" the welterweight crown so he just walked up to Jack ,while Jack was trying to get his breath back, and swatted the Irishman on the noggin'.DQ'd quicker than if he'd bitten his ear off.But I always wondered about Ring Magazine's take on that fight. Fleischer was the editor in chief,Nat Loubet(his son in law) was in line inherit the throne,and then there was ol' Sam Taub who would "walk up and down old Broadway" and spin a yarn or two. Now these fellas' were all Jewish and I believe they were protecting their guy.I'm sure it was sad enough for those Ring writers to see Leonard forced to make comeback and witness Jimmy McLarnin put Benny on his back for good. So I got this doubt in my mind about Leonard"not wanting" a championship. It don't sound right. So I get on the computer and go back in time to search for the New York papers reporting that fight at the Velodrome in the Bronx. The round by round accounts that I found had Jack ahead by three or four rounds. They said Leonard looked sluggish.Maybe it was moving up in weight.Maybe he knew with two more rounds to go that he would drop the decision.But I ain't buying that "not wanting it" baloney(Kosher beef for sure). So I'm glad those round by round perceptions were there in the achives,So now I'll make my belief that Benny was getting wupped that night and instead of saying"No mas",he fouls Jack and for good measure bops him on the head when he's taking a knee.

One other of those old famous bouts that we don't have much to go on:Stanley Ketchel and Sam Langford .Was it a fight?An exhibition? Where both boys holding back? Was there some pre agreement? First of all,the contest was held in Philadelphia. Didn't Philadelphia Jack O'Brien say all his fights in that town were ordained by devilish sorts? So we go again to the writers who were there that night at ringside. The tally was 7 for Sam,4 thought Stanley had the best of it,2 said it was dead even after six. Everybody wanted to see them in the ring for a second time,maybe somewhere out West where fights were scheluded longer distances,but Stanley was murdered by a jealous husband and all we can do now is battle with conjecture.

But even being right up there in front,either at ringside or in front of the television set,the mind often "sees" things in peculiar ways. What determines a judges decision?Does the fan, who lives vicariously through a fighter have his judgement, kicked askew? I often think if Ali and Jimmy Young would have been fighting both in their first fights,I don't think anyone would have disagreed with a draw of Young getting the nod. Ali grabbing the back of Frazier's head in Manila every round and not even getting a point taken away!If it would have been the first fight for both of them,Ali would have been sent to his corner per Marquis of Queensburry.

But then everything is perceived in the eye of the beholder. Two guys can look at the same fight in High definition and you'll get two different takes on what just transpired.So if you're one of those people who are always sitting on a fence,can't make up your minds if you have to go to the bathroom or not,or might feel that you'll offend somebody if they express a conflicting opinion,you can always read about it in the papers.

Oh, and before I finish,I was just pulling your leg about who originated that quote about "All I know is what I read in the papers."I know it was Jake LaMotta.


http://imgur.com/0DHixL9

Sam Langford

Rest Stop

"Are any of you guys going to Vegas and watch Prince fight?",i asked the three young fighters who were standing next to the ring wrapping their hands getting ready to do some sparring.
"I can't go,"said one of the boys. He was a Mexican kid,swarthy complexion,thick wavy hair,sporting the effects of a prior busted nose."But my brother is going to drive up there after he gets his GED tomorrow."
"I got a room for only 30 dollars a night,"said the brother. You could tell that he was a physical match to his brother,maybe a little lighter in weight,a bit more gaunt in the face,but you wouldn't doubt that they were brothers.
The third kid was much bigger than the other two boys.He was a Mexican kid also,but looked older,maybe in his twenties.Like I said he was bigger than the brothers,maybe a middleweight.His skin was lighter and his shoulders rolled up his back. The boys were talking to each other about an amateur tournament they had entered north of San Diego in the small town of Menefee.They were all carefully wrapping their hands while they were talking.
"That black kid was giving me the mad dog look before we fought the last time,"said the oldest kid."I was going to toy with him,but when he did that,I put a hurt on him,"he was telling his friends."I'll see him up there next week. I bet he keeps his mouth shut this time."
The boys were now pulling on their gloves.
"Who wants to work first,?"asked the oldest kid.
The gaunt kid bounced up the ring steps ,through the ropes ,and then pranced around the ring shaking out his arms.The big kid took his time getting into the ring. It appeared that he was more of a veteran than the other two.He leaned back against the ropes until the gaunt kid was through prancing around. The three round timer on the wall beeped and the two kids touched gloves and went to work.They sparred without headgear.Right off the bat I could see that they had skills. Their footwork was fluid.I didn't see them cross their feet once. They set a good pace,tucked in their chins,jabbed and worked punches off their jabs.They moved their heads.They worked fast,but both boys didn't let it out all the way either.The big kid held back more,but when the gaunt kid landed a decent shot,the big kid would back the gaunt kid against the ropes and throw a stiff combination.After three rounds of work,the gaunt kid's brother anxiously stepped through the ropes. The big kid was waiting with his back against the ropes,his arms extended over the top strand. The other brother was almost a carbon copy of his sibling,on the balls of his feet,loose,probing to get inside the bigger boy's reach.Again, the big kid held back. After three fast rounds,the big kid stepped down and went to work hitting the heavy bag. The two brothers then got together and worked three more rounds. The sweat soaked through their T shirts. When they finished up,the brothers went to the heavy bags and worked on hooking off the jab.

I had a nice seat on a bench that was beside the ring.Tiger Smalls was in the process of teaching a beginner's boxing class. There were some fellas' grappling on a mat with their trainer schooling them on the basics of wrestling. Some girls in the far corner were practicing their kicks against each other. They parried the kicks with big padded mitts. The three fighters ,when finished with the bags, then skipped rope for 15 minutes walked over to where I was sitting.they looked very happy.When they got to where I was sitting they shook my hand and called me,"Boss."They always call me "Boss." Then they asked how my grandson Adam was doing with his high school wrestling.They always asked me about how Adam was doing.
"You guys looked pretty good in there,"addressing all three.
"Thanks",said the big kid with a friendly smile."So are you going to watch Prince fight?"
"Yeah. I got one of those package deals.Flight and hotel. I'll be staying at Sam's Town where they're going to have the fight."
"I'd like to go,"said the smaller brother.
"Why don't you ride up with your brother?"I asked.
"I've got to meet with my probation officer the next morning."
The big kid interjected.
"The fight is going to be on TV."
"What channel?"asked the smaller brother.
The three young men looked at each other.
"It's on Fox Sports 1," I said.
"Which channel is that?"asked the big kid.
"I've got Spectrum,"I said. "That's channel 61."
"I don't have cable,"said the big kid.
"Neither do I,"said the smaller brother.
The gaunt looking brother, who was going up to the fight, put his boxing shoes,mouth guard, and wraps in his bag.
"I have to follow Tiger in his car. I've never been to Las Vegas."

Tiger had finished up with his class and walked over to where we were.
"How many times do I have to tell you guys not to put your gear on the ring apron? Someone is going to twist an ankle."
Tiger was a little steamed up.With his hand, he swept the gear off the ring apron onto the floor. The three boys didn't give notice.Tiger walked away. I saw him go into the office. As the boys were still talking with each other,two more young fighters came up to the ring. They stowed their gear on the ring apron and began wrapping their hands.

I got up to leave and shook hands again with the three boys.I saw Tiger in the office. He was sitting at a table talking on the phone with a car rental agency lining up a van for the trip. He caught me out of the corner of his eye.He told the guy on the other end to wait a minute.
"Roger.I'll see you up there then."he said.
"I'll give you a call when I get to the hotel."
Tiger got up from the table.
"Roger. I want to thank you for everything."
I put my arm around his shoulder.
"Remember.Prince needs to see you cool,calm,collected,and confident."
"Yes.Yes,"he said softly.
As I walked out the door,I heard him say again,"Thank you.Thank you for everything."
I usually feel I don't deserve compliments,but if what I said about being "cool and confident" can somehow assist in a Prince Small's victory,I'll be happy.

http://imgur.com/ccs4kLI

Prince Smalls

The Wager

In a few hours my son in law is coming over to take me to the airport .I'll be flying up to Las Vegas to watch Tiger Small's son,Prince,fight Xavier Martinez at Sam" Town Hotel and Casino.It'll be a semi main eight rounder.Both boys are undefeated.The fight will be on TV(Fox Sports 1).I don't need to say that it's the biggest fight for both kids.

In the mean time I see where this match between MacGregor and Mayweather has been contacted.In a way I'm surprised it's going to come off. You guys are surer on the details,but I guess the 25 million has a lot to do with it.The way I saw it,it was MacGregor who came out and pushed for this fight,a boxing match! I began reading the reasons MacGregor and Dana White(the UFC guru)think that they are going to hand Pretty Boy his first loss.

1.MacGregor is 27,Mayweather is 40.
2.Mayweather hasn't fought in 2 years.
3.Mayweather doesn't do well against southpaws.
4.MacGregor has a fierce determination.
5. They'll be wearing 10 ounce gloves.

As the fight draws near,the odds with MacGregor will bubble up a little. People will be analyzing the possibilities of MacGregor winning. MacGregor and White knew there was no way Mayweather was going to fight a UFC match with MacGregor.It was a boxing match or no deal. So Mayweather is going to train,(I guess) for a month and a half to be ready when he steps into the ring. The people on the inside,the UFC guys and the fighters, know that MacGregor can't beat Mayweather in a boxing match,but you bet your jockstrap that this one will be hyped up beyond anything in recent history. The spin will run shoulder to shoulder with all the "fake news" that's spitted out there on all the TV stations,tabloids,and websites.

So does Conor MacGregor have any chance of winning? There's always a way it can happen,but unless Mayweather has a paralytic stroke in the ring,he goes 50 and zero. But I can't believe Conor MacGragor and Dana White would let the image of the UFC be set up for embarrassment. MacGregor can come out of this maybe not smelling like a rose,but he could stick a few thorns in the Pretty Boy before the action ceases. Here's how I see it.

I figure MacGregor comes out at the bell and bulrushes Floyd.Floyd parries everthing off,steps to the side,maybe ties him up,counters a little. Floyd ain't gonna' go right after him,but in a round or two Floyd knows and MacGregor understands that this is going to be a farce,so why not make it one? Conor is a nut case.He gets frustrated and pissed off,Floyd is dancing around pecking at him,so what does Conor do?What he knows best.He grabs Mayweather,throws him down,and starts head butting him. The ref rushes in.It's a DQ win for Floyd. He's lyng on his back lucky that the ref made a fast move or you could erase "Pretty" from the "Boy" in Mayweather's moniker.Floyd wins,but everyone knows that MacGregor is crazy and what he did had a better lasting impression than biting an ear off or saying "no mas."The rep of the UFC is upheld. We'll all understand that if Floyd and Conor got in a bar fight,Floyd would be taking him away in an ambulance. All the boxing enthusiasts would settle down. Mayweather gets number 50.Both boys make their money. It will all be forgotten in a few days, and life will go on.

So if I find a sports book,I'll wager that Floyd wins on the DQ.I don't see Vegas getting a lot of action on this fight unless you bet "differently".So I should get a better's chance if I go with the disqualification. Make sense?It's worth the gamble.

http://imgur.com/jpHcSre

Pretty Boy Floyd

Out Of Focus

When I was unpacking my grip after arriving at Sam's Town Hotel preparing to see Tiger Smalls' son,Prince,fight the next night,I realized that I had forgotten to pack my camera.I don't believe much in omens,but always in the back of my mind,I think about fate having some say in what's going on. I went to he gift shop and asked the girl if they had those "throwaway" cameras. She said they didn't sell any kind of cameras at the hotel but that I might try the Walgreens across the street. Of course! Walgreens would have something I could take a picture with. So I walked out the front entrance and scanned the horizon looking for Walgreens. For you fellows that haven't been to Las Vegas,distance is like a mirage. The width of the streets and the footsteps it takes to get to one hotel to another is a like traveling on a camel.Things look close,but if you start heading towards something it takes forever to get there. With my arthritis and the outside temperature sizzling at 115 degrees,I decided very quickly that I'd try my best to describe the events of my two day stay at Sam's Town on the computer.

I arrived at about 2 in the afternoon. After checking in and getting to my air conditioned room,I donned my bathing suit to plunge into the swimming pool. I enjoy the water whether it's the pool or the ocean. Funny,where I live by the beach in San Diego,I bet 99% of the people in this town never get into the water,at least the ocean. After wading around for about an hour,I dried off in a lounge chair and then made my way back to my room.I had to go through part of the casino and pass the restaurant to find my way back. As I approached the dining room,I heard an unmistakable voice.Tiger Smalls was going off on someone. I didn't see him at first,but all I had to do is follow my sonar to find out what all the raucous was all about.There was TIger,dressed in what looked like a green satin jacket that had inscribed on the back "Flashy Warrior". Prince was with his dad and was wearing the same model jacket. Tiger caught me out of the corner of his eye and shouted,"This punk wants to talk trash! Well so can I !" I looked to see who Tiger was going off on and it was the guy he was fighting and I guess his dad.They were both just grinning this stupid like grin.I didn't catch what had precipitated Tiger's wrath.

The next afternoon was the fight card. Not a bad little venue at Sam's Town for taking in the fight.A small but intimate room that looked like it held maybe a thousand people.I asked the box office girl if there were any ringside seats left and she told me that they had sold out and that only the GM's were left and that was seating on a first come first serve basis.So I bought a general admission ticket and got to the line a half hour before they opened the doors. My arthritis was killing me,but I wasn't about to go back and sit in the casino. If you ever want to see the most glamorous collection of ladies,Las Vegas would win first prize every time. I'm standing there looking at all these "Play Boy Centerfold" types and I say to myself,I can't wimp out and lose my place in line to find a chair.But I'm in such agony that if one of these sequined bombshells gave me the key to her room,I don't know if even Viagra would turn the trick with some of these babes that make their living turning tricks.

Anyway,the doors finally open and I get me a nice comfortable seat about 40 feet from one of the ring corners. The crowd gathered in at a good pace and most everybody was feeling no pain.Floyd Mayweather was showing off some of his young talent.Floyd wasn't there,but I saw his uncle Roger. The poor guy is really going through some rough times. I first saw him by accident.I saw this old guy get up from his ringside seat and storm up to this other guy sitting a couple of chairs from him. The old guy that rose,started grabbing the other guy's shirt and began cussing him a blue streak.Now the old guy was sitting next to a younger fellow and the younger fellow quickly went over and separated the old guy from his attackee. The guy sitting down didn't make a stink.It was like he understood what had happened. As the younger fellow was escorting the old guy back to his seat and trying to calm him down,that's when I realized it was Roger Mayweather. The younger fellow had his arm around him most the night. Roger Mayweather just kind of sat there stooped shouldered and sulking. A few people wanted their pictures taken with him. The younger fellow made sure that the people who wanted to have their pictures taken with Roger Mayweather weren't too intrusive.

Prince Smalls was in the semi main. His opponent was a 19 year old kid that now fights out of Stockton ,California. Xavier Martuinez is the kid's name. Like Prince,he's a featherweight. I saw Prince and Martinez fight on the same card in Tijuana at that bar called the"Perro Salado."Quite a move up for both boys fighting in Las Vegas,and to boot Martinez is a part of Mayweather's team.

Prince entered the ring first with his dad and his corner men.Then the mariachi music blasted out of the sound system ,and prancing down the aisle leading Martinez to the ring must have been his dad. He was the guy Tiger was having the beef with. The father is wearing one of those butcher's caps and a shirt that has "Team Martinez" on the back.But the old man is doing this funky shuffle wearing a pair of running shoes that have those lights that flash off and on when you pick your feet.The father then stands in the corner of the ring throwing up goofy hand signs and laughing.I wanted to see his son get tatooed by Prince.

The opening gong sounds and Prince comes out fast. He's jumping his left hand into Martinez's face keeping a good distance. Prince is tall and has a long reach for a featherweight and early he was using his physical advantage to the max.For the first two rounds Prince kept working his left hand and Martinez had no answer, in the mean time his old man is doing the funky shuffle in the ring corner and waving to the crowd.Man,didn't I want Prince to take his foot off the gas.

But then in the 3rd,I saw it happening.Prince wasn't using the jab as much. Martinez was getting inside Prince's stuff.Instead of the fight being in the middle of the ring,Martinez had Prince backing up.I was yelling like a maniac the first two frames telling Prince to "keep it going just like that",but in the 3rd round things began to wane for Prince. I could see it on his face. I kept shouting it up once in awhile,but the vigor was dwindling from Prince's attack. It was an 8 round fight. Prince locked up the first two rounds,but afer that,he was shut out.The crowd,which was mostly Mexican,was going for Martinez, He was plodding ahead catching Prince with some good shots.Martinez staggered Prince in the 7th pretty good. Jay Nagy was watching closely. That was the round that sealed it. After the unanimous decision,the father was still doing his King of the Mambo routine. I had to get ot of there.I didn't stick around for the main event.

I was thinking of going to the dressing room to say something,but I didn't.Maybe I should have. I went to the casino and found a video poker machine that ate up 40 dollars that I couldn't have cared less to lose. After an hour or so,I saw the crowd spilling through the doors.I didn't see Prince nor his dad.I then walked over to a side of the casino that was kind of quiet. It had a few machines with no one playing on them. There was a little ice cream parlor near a rear exit.I felt like an ice cream sundae.I ordered a three scoop with the hot fudge,nuts,whipped cream,and a cherry on top.I was the only guy at the counter. I took the ice cream to a small table with one chair and made myself comfortable.As I was dipping my plastic fork in the whipped cream,I looked up and saw two figures slowly approaching the ice cream parlor. It was Roger Mayweather and the young man he was sitting with. The young man was holding his hand and had his arm around his back.He was carefully walking him in my direction.Then I heard the young man say,
"Uncle Roger,do you want some Ice cream/"
"Yes,that would be nice,"answered Roger Mayweather very slowly looking down to the floor.

After finishing my sundae,I went up to my room. I thought about not having my camera.It was nothing anyway. There was nothing worthwhile taking a picture of.
http://imgur.com/2RxlCIN

Tiger Smalls

Dream Unfulfilled

When I was teaching at the high school down in the South Bay,the class for the" at risk" kids,there was a toe head scruffy looking boy,I can't remember his name, who told me one day that he was going to be a fighter.Not only was he going to be a fighter,but he was going to be the champ.Why not? If a young fella' is going to start off with a boxing career,he might as well set his sights as high as vision can see...be the champ.But this kid did more yakking about how he was going to take on all comers and surge to the top of the division and then finally win the title.From what I could gather,his effort mostly spewed from his vocal chords.
"So where are you training?"I inquired to him one afternoon as he was sitting by my desk explaining how he was going to make mince meat out of Julio Cesar Chavez.
"Oh,I haven't started yet,"he began reasoning."Once we complete building the new ball park,I'll get in the gym."
"You're 18 years old now and you've never trained or even had an amateur fight. That ball park is going to take another two years to complete."
"Don't worry,"said the kid beaming with a big toothy smile."You'll see,I'll be the champ one day."
"There's a pretty good boxing gym near your work site. It's called Spud Murphy's. A lot of good fighters train there.You'll get some good instruction also."
"Naw,"said Mr. Confidence."I'll find my own place to go and train. You just watch me."
I didn't want to continue going on with this any longer. If he thought he was going to kick Chavez's ass,so let him dream on.But this kid wasn't that unusual,at least the ones that I came in contact with. Most of the time it was"I'm going to win the lottery." A lot of tough ones wanted to get in with the narcos,and there was plenty of that action just across the border.Any way you sliced it,they all wanted to make money the "easy way" and be a macho character to boot.

Well this kid lasted in my class about three months.He had that time to make up the credits he was lacking because he goofed off when he should have been attending and studying.After the three months,he got a pass to the office. The state of California wasn't going to spend any more money to help him along to earni his diploma.He was on the street. We said good by to each other. I liked him. He was just dreaming that's all.I wished him well on his future career as a fighter.He winked at me with that confident smile of his.
"You just wait and see."he boasted."You just wait."

Well,I waited without giving it much thought. That was over twenty years ago. I never saw in the record books that Julio Cesar Chavez ever defended his title against the kid.One night about several months later I was watching Terry Norris train at Murphy's Gym and just for curiosity's sake asked the onlookers if that kid ever made an appearance. Everyone shrugged their shoulders.

So what are the odds of someone making it to the top and being the champ? Probably a thousand to one.I wondered what went through that kid's mind when he realized that all he was doing was blowing wind and smoke.I don't think it deflated him at all when he knew that boxing was just an illusion. As long as he could dream on to something else,that was the fuel that got him through life. He probably just took a different turn.We dream in our sleep most every night. He dreams when he's awake.It doesn't matter if the dream never comes true. I guess you could say it's kind of a faith.Amen

http://imgur.com/M6t0M6T

Dwight Hawkins,a fighter who should get more recognition.Holds a KO win over Jose Becerra


http://imgur.com/P9M0LuA

Here's Dwight with my pal,Rick Farris,president of the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame. Dwight was one of the fighters Rick admired growing up with the sport.

http://imgur.com/05P1N1z

Just got off the horn with Rick Farris,the mastermind of the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame. The annual banquet is coming up in October. I've attended all of Rick's banquets.He puts on the best show in LA.His focus is on the fighters.If you're in the area or not,this will be something special.

dagosd2000 wrote:http://imgur.com/M6t0M6T

Dwight Hawkins,a fighter who should get more recognition.Holds a KO win over Jose Becerra


http://imgur.com/P9M0LuA

Here's Dwight with my pal,Rick Farris,president of the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame. Dwight was one of the fighters Rick admired growing up with the sport.

Always heard you guys talk of Dwight. I hear he was quite the body-banger. Would have loved to have seen him in action.

dagosd2000 wrote:http://imgur.com/05P1N1z

Just got off the horn with Rick Farris,the mastermind of the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame. The annual banquet is coming up in October. I've attended all of Rick's banquets.He puts on the best show in LA.His focus is on the fighters.If you're in the area or not,this will be something special.

Wouldn't miss it, Rog. Looking forward to doing a shot of tequila with you afterwards too, or whatever it was that you had me drinking. The company was outstanding.

Hands

My favorite kind of fighter is the guy who makes it look easy,not wasting any energy,in control of his movements,has a command and vision of what's in front of him,a predictability that keeps him a step ahead. He's not the frenetic fighter who is the embodiment of perpetual motion like a Pep.He's certainly not the big bomber like a Liston or a Foreman.But my guy moves in the ring efficiently,has all the weapons in his arsenal so when his opponent makes a mistake, the repercussions are costly.He can attack and defend when the situation presents itself, take a punch even though his skill level usually has him dispatching the telling blows.My guy is seldom outsmarted, and if there's an opponent's style or a plan that necessitates a different strategy,my guy can draw from his deep knowledge and the perplexity is now tossed back onto his foe.

I was watching Sugar Ray Robinson's quest to a third championship in a different weight division,ths time for the light heavyweight crown against Joey Maxim. Robinson was winning that fight.Maxim,who was considered a pretty slick boy, was out schooled from the opening bell. Robby looked like he was on his way for the win and then he got the heat stroke.Maxim escaped with that one.Robinson retired after that fight.He would come back into the ring more than two years later,but he was never the same. Ralph "Tiger" Jones pushed Ray around and bullied him at will.This was going to be,more or less the Ray Robinson we would have to live with. Ray was fighting for the money. He liked to live in rarified air and found out early that he wasn't going to run Gene Kelly off the stage,be a movie star,or have his own TV show. Prior to the Maxim fainting spell, the only other blots on his record, in more than a hundred and twenty fights, were to LaMotta and Randy Turpin .After Ray took off his pants in 1955, he would be in the loss column 16 times.It was during that period, until his retirement ten years later,that we have the largest collection on film of Sugar Ray.He showed flashes of what he once was at his best.He ran a very long prime period,a very active fighter who fought many great fighters(often more than once),but for we baby boomers ,the only recollections were the times Ray was fighting in places like Norfolk,Savannah,and a bull ring in Tijuana.During that ten year span Ray won the middleweight championship twice,but he absorbed a lot of punishment. When Joey Archer put Ray on the canvass winning going away,Ray finally called an end to it. He was 45 years old.He didn't keep it running with PED's like some of these fellows do today. We saw all that too.

Ali wanted Robinson to be his trainer,but Robby wasn't going to put on and take off Ali's robe .Ali called himself the "Greatest",but even Muhammad admitted that Sugar Ray Robinson,pound for pound, had no equal.Ray relocated to California,remarried,and again found himself broke. A combination of diabetes and dementia was eroding the great champion. He'd frequent the Main Street Gym in LA.He'd don the rubber suit,skip rope(It was worth it just to see him skip rope),and hit the heavy bag and finish with gusto with the peanut bladder. He was once heard to say in the gym that he needed to get down to weight to fight his upcoming match with Jake LaMotta.

My father knew Sugar Ray from the time my dad was running with the Outfit. The mob ran a dairy in Chicago named Meadowmoor.Capone started it up. The wise guys were trying to get Robinson to put his name on some kind of drink that Robby would get a percentage on. It fell through. However,one afternoon Robinson was standing on the sidewalk outside the dairy when a car drove by with a crew of" button men" inside. They were to perform a hit on a lawyer named Moe Greenburg. Greenburg never got to practice law again after that day,but Robby was standing on the corner thinking that the slugs had his name on them.

Robinson came down to San Diego to watch Luis Rodriguez train for his fight with Rafael Gutierrez.i was with my dad. My dad spotted the champ. He quick strided it over to Robinson.
"Hey Sugar,"shouted my dad smothering Ray in a big bear hug.
"Joe.It's been a long time,"returned a smiling Ray Robinson.
"Remember that day when they whacked Moe Greeburg?,"laughed my dad.
"Joe,I thought they wanted to shoot me. I always co operated with you guys.".
"We made a bundle with you.How you doing anyway?"
When Robinson won the welterweight title,everytime he fought in Chicago he'd carry his opponent. He wouldn't go in the tank,but that was OK with the Outfit just so Robby would hold the other guy up for the limit.

So what I'm trying to get at is Sugar Ray Robinson was (in my mind) the greatest fighter who ever lived. The few fights we have of him on film prior to his hiatus show the total package of what the complete fighter should be. If you had to genetically make the perfect fighter,Sugar Ray Robinson would be the model for the blueprint.

Many years ago I had an issue of the Ring Magazine. They profiled an up and coming middleweight by the name of Garnet "Sugar" Hart. For a nanosecond Garnet "Sugar" Hart resembled Sugar Ray Robinson. I remember the story on Hart had some pictures of him posing side by side with Robinson.They were wearing boxing trunks. There was a back profile,a reach comparision,and then they laid their hands together on a table.I didn't understand the rational for these physical comparisions,but what struck me were the hands of the two fighters. Ray Robinson always held his hands very loose and relaxed.His hands personified him. Ray Robinson transcended himself through his hands.The hands that struck over 200 opponents, and though they were the instruments for his legacy,his hands were very beautiful.Duran was "Hands of Stone."Robinson had DaVinci hands. Ray Robinson was a poet of boxing. He didn't write rhymes like Ali,but his grace and style in the ring were Shakespearean. The way he strode to the ring with his white terry cloth robe,the Spartan white trunks with the black piping. The slicked back hair that would came apart wild and frenzied after a six punch combination.And when the referee would raise his arm after his recital concluded,there would be Ray with the happy sad face,the hair recombed,his hands still beautiful to the eye.

http://imgur.com/oc2Untq
Sugar Ray Robinson

Escarole

Italians have an expression if something or somebody is worth mentioning...has some merit, in other words,noteworthy.
"That ain't scardol"-(schu dAl)."Scardal" is the slang word when Italians are referring to "escarole."Italians eat a lot of escarole.They like to put it in soup with cannellini (white beans) and throw in some garlic,parmesean cheese,some vegetables,maybe a little wine. No Italian household makes it the same. Pasta fagioli(pasta fazool) is how all the goombas refer to this dish...a peasant dish.A common southern Italian meal you won't find in an Italian restaurant,even in Italy. I've asked for it over there and the waiter always gives me a shrug,a short laugh,and then shakes his head no. Maybe they think by serving escarole and beans is demeaning to their eating establishment.But it's cheap to throw together and it's more popular in the south of Italy than spaghetti. Remember though,if you make the escarole and the beans adding pasta,then it's pasta fazool. The best Italian dishes are inexpensive to prepare. Sophia Loren will still opt for a bowl of escarole and beans(go ahead throw in the pasta) over all the gourmet dishes in all the high end eateries on the planet. So if it ain't "scardal",it's pretty good. If it's "scardal" as the metaphor,it's pretty bad.

Now I'm going to try to work" scardal" as an adjective for a fighter. Don't laugh. Growing up on the corner of Polk and Oakley in Chicago,"scardal" was a word that described a variety of subjects. I said I'd bring "scadal" into the realm of Italian stallions.How 'bout Two Ton Tony Galento?.Now remember,Italians thought all Italian fighters were NOT "scadal". It was like Trump said that he could" shoot someone in the middle of the street and they'd still love me." Well.I never heard a discouraging word about Two Ton Tony on Taylor Street. The "dagos" still talk about the time Tony dropped Joe Louis on the seat of his trunks. If you never heard about the fight in that neighborhood,you would have thought Tony won the title.Before the fight Tony called Louis a" bum" and after Louis pummeled him(the only time Joe said he really hated an opponent),Galento blamed his corner for telling him to "box" after knocking Louis off his feet. Well,Tony called Joe Louis a "bum" and Joe was brown and Tony got his ass kicked and Tony was still not "scardal" in the southwest side of Chicago.

Tony was a dirty fighter,but that didn't spill the escarole and beans on the floor with the paisans. The Italians thought Tony was "colorful." Tony was a character. The cherub once said that "I don't think there's anything wrong with sticking your thumb in a guy's eye.Just a little."Every time that quote was spouted off in the pool room,it sank the eight ball in the corner pocket.

Tony didn't exactly train like another italian fighter,an ex Marine veteran of WW 2,Carmen Basilio.Tony wanted to give up nothing. He owned a bar in Orange ,NJ and was living the dream.On a diet of booze and plenty of meat balls,exercising more with the B girls than thinking about doing road work,Tony got respect from the minions that rested their elbows in his joint.

I saw Jackie Gleason as a guest once on Rocky Marciano's show (It's on YouTube). Marciano would show a fight and showcase his guest talking about his show career.Gleason told a story about how he began his career working in the small clubs back east. He said that one night he was doing a stand up in a room in New Jersey when this guy in the audience began heckling him. The heckler wouldn't let Gleason off the hook. Gleason finally said that he'd like to meet take the guy outside in the alley after the last joke,but this guy had the last laugh on Jackie. Gleason said that when he woke up,they told him that Tony Galento was the guy that made Gleason's face look funny. As Jackie was telling this to the "Rock" ,he wasn't grinning. He then asked Marciano if he had ever fought Galento. Rocky laughed.
"No I didn't. But you we in there with the toughest streetfighter around."
I believe even Rocky didn't think that Tony was "scardal."

http://imgur.com/iDPefeK

Two Ton Tony Galento

Stairway To Heaven

The fight is on YouTube,the fight between the challenger from Wales,Johnny Owen and the world champ,Lupe Pintor.I remember seeing the replay on Mexican TV.Owen had walked into the lion's den,the den being the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles. It was tough enough for a non Mexican national or a white fighter,especially one from a foreign country, to step into the ring and take on "un hombre puro Mexicano."And this "hombre" was the champion. Didn't matter that the fight was in the United States.They could have had the showdown in the Arena Coliseo in Mexico City or on the sacred grounds of the Aztec Empire at Tenochtitlan,the" aficianados " at the Grand Olympic Auditorium wanted a blood sacrifice on the frail looking Welshman on the altar of the Aztec gods.Tragically,that fight ended with Johnny Owen ,struggling to withstand the attacks of Pintor, lying on his back with 25 seconds still on the clock in the 12th round. He had given everything inside his substance to bring back the crown to his hometown in Merthyr Tydfil,Wales. Johnny Owen never regained consciousness.He died seven weeks later.

As Owen was frantically being worked on by doctors and attendants,the pandemonium inside the arena didn't abate one decibel.This sacrificial metaphor,a human being, prone with eyes shut,with the the signals of his life signs ebbing, that this was a sporting contest had morphed into something ugly ,wasn't going to compose the mob that had wanted blood. As Johnny Owen was being carried away up the ramp on a stretcher,one of the blood thirsty picked the pocket of one of the bearers. The firecrackers were still being set off as Owen was being put in the ambulance.

Owen's nickname was the "Merthyr Matchstick". He was lanky and his skin was milky white and he had a school boy face.And who could not forget those funny looking ears that stuck out? They say he was a nice mannered boy outside the ring(most fighters are).His hometown,his family and his friends knew that even if their hero was exposing himself to risk,that despite the outward appearance,Johnny Owen was a kid with guts. He might have looked weak,but you can't always judge a fighter by his looks. Owen had earned his title shot.He was in more than 100 amateur duels,was the champion of the bantams in Europe,his only pro defeat was at the hands of the Spaniard Rodriguez ,the contest in Spain(in the Spaniard's hometown) where maybe the most unfair decisions are rendered. Owen sampled that experience. A year later Owen got his revenge against Rodriguez back in the land of the Celts.

Johnny Owen's family understood what had happened in Los Angeles.They encouraged Lupe to go on. Later,Pintor would go to Merthyr to visit Owen's family and friends. That risk of a fatal consequence is a constant factor in the sport where the object of the game is to hit the other guy with force and dispatch,to avoid ,when possible, to make the other guy miss,but sometimes you have to take one to give one.The Owen family knew that it could have been Lupe Pintor being carried away on a stretcher up that ramp of the Olympic Auditorium.But you can take this to the bank,that stretcher bearer would have been missing his wallet just the same.

http://imgur.com/ZEI9Bib

Johnny Owen

The Other Pancho Villa

I see where Pancho Villa is going to be inducted into the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame. That's Pancho Villa the Filipino fighter,one of the greatest of flyweights who ever laced them up. Pancho Villa the fighter who beat another great fighter,Jimmy Wilde to win the title. Living in San Diego near the border of Mexico,if I were to ask anyone who Pancho Villa was,the avalanche of responses would answer the Pancho Villa of Mexican revolutionary lore.

Aside from the large Mexican community in the communities south of San Diego,the Filipino population is well represented. Most of that population is connected with the Navy bases.But even if I probed this representative group,I'd bet I'd get the same similar answers.
"You mean the Mexican bandit?"
or
"You mean the guy who was the president of Mexico?"(even most millennial Mexicans believe Pancho Villa was president of Mexico).

The Filipinos who might have some recall that Pancho Villa was a huge figure, not only in boxing,but was the most significant person in their sport's history,are probably my age... older than dirt. After Pancho Villa(christened Francisco Guilledo)died on the operating table,another real good Filipino fighter surfaced during the 50's,Flash Elorde,the junior lightweight champ. There are still a lot of Filipinos around that grew up with Elorde as their living legend.

However,today there aren't any blank expressions when you ask any Filipino,Mexican,boxing fan,or international sports enthusiasts about Manny Pacquiao. He's eclipsed Villa and Elorde.Pacman is as recognizable as any sports hero on the globe. He's still at it. He might have lost a tic off his reflexes,but until the roof caves in he's still running with the best pound for pounders.

When I was teaching U.S. History at the schools I was at near the border,every year I'd have a lesson on Cesar Chavez,the eminent union organizer and civil rights leader.When I'd set up the lecture and film about Chavez,the kids would gripe that they thought I was going to show them fight films of JULIO Cesar Chavez.Cesar Chavez they never heard of. When I'd show them the film about how the labor leader worked to protect the field workers from entering the vinyards just after the planes released the pesticide,I remember some of them smirking,"They were dumb enough to go in there,so that's what happens."

Maybe it all has to do with air time. Julio Cesar Chavez was high profile because he was marketed like all dickens. Granted,he was a tremendous fighter,maybe the best around in any weight category at that time. In Mexico,he's still considered their best ever. But Cesar Chavez,the non violent union leader?The Chicano/American? No,Julio the fighter beat guys up.He beat up black guys and white guys and his own countrymen.It really wasn't hard to figure out.Cesar Chavez I don't think was much with his fists.

But a Filipino fighter like a Pancho Villa came along at a time when the Philippines was still struggling to be an independent nation.He was bigger than life to his countrymen.Not until the end of World War 2,did independence grace their country.Unfortunately because of European and American domination,Filipino culture does not have the depth as some of their Pan Asian neighbors. I guess boxing is the biggest and most popular sport in the Pearl of The Orient. I can't think of any famous Filipino baseball players.They don't have the weight to play football,the height to make an impact on basketball. I've never seen their international team in a FIFA tournament. Tennis,ping pong,track and field,swimming?I'm drawing a blank. So I guess it's boxing that fills their arenas and the fighters who become the icons.So I'm glad Pancho Villa,the fighter,will get his kudos at the West Coast Boxing Hall of Fame event.

I bet if I went to the Philippines and asked who was Pancho Villa,they wouldn't say it was the other one.


http://imgur.com/SKdpsO4

Pancho Villa,the fighter

Like Pancho Villa, the boxer; Les Darcy, the tremendous Australian middleweight of the 1910s, died after coping with dental issues in the United States. Darcy had complications due to a dental implant. I have a close relative who went to a Mexican border town to get dental work done at a far lower cost than if he got it done in the United States. Reading about what happened to Villa and Darcy compelled me to get dental done from only American dentists.

Earlier in his boxing career, Pancho Villa's real name was listed as Francisco Tingson. He had a half-brother named Little Pancho (Real Name- Eulogio Tingson), a contender in the flyweight and bantamweight divisions during the 1930s, much of the time on the mainland in the U.S. Little Pancho later served in the United States Army during World War II.

There is some doubt about the origin of Pancho Villa's ring name. It was thought by some that Villa got his name from the Mexican guerrilla leader, but it was pointed out that an early figure in his boxing career was Paquito Villa, a Filipino ice plant executive and boxing manager.

- Chuck Johnston

Chuck1052 wrote:Like Pancho Villa, the boxer; Les Darcy, the tremendous Australian middleweight of the 1910s, died after coping with dental issues in the United States. Darcy had complications due to a dental implant. I have a close relative who went to a Mexican border town to get dental work done at a far lower cost than if he got it done in the United States. Reading about what happened to Villa and Darcy compelled me to get dental done from only American dentists.

Earlier in his boxing career, Pancho Villa's real name was listed as Francisco Tingson. He had a half-brother named Little Pancho (Real Name- Eulogio Tingson), a contender in the flyweight and bantamweight divisions during the 1930s, much of the time on the mainland in the U.S. Little Pancho later served in the United States Army during World War II.

There is some doubt about the origin of Pancho Villa's ring name. It was thought by some that Villa got his name from the Mexican guerrilla leader, but it was pointed out that an early figure in his boxing career was Paquito Villa, a Filipino ice plant executive and boxing manager.

- Chuck Johnston

Chuck,
Interesting comment about getting dental work done in Mexico. My dentist is in Mexico.Been with her for years.I have a full upper bridge(the result of blocking too many punches with my face) .She had it done for me for 200 dollars. Her hubby runs the factory that makes the molds down the street. All done in 4 hours. I cracked it once.Went back to her. She had it molded back together for 40 bucks. I never have to make an appointment.Takes me right in.I had dental coverage with the schools in my health plan.Decided to drop it because it was still cheaper and faster to go down to TJ.Thousands of people north of the border go to dentists in TJ.I've never heard of a complaint.

Also optometrists do pretty good down there.Example:A pair of glasses.Examination,lenses(Bausch & Lomb),and frame-24.75,done in one day. That's the standard price wherever you go. Also the best deals on contacts.Many Americans go down there.

Farmacies kick ass too. You can get drugs down there that you need to go through a doc up here to get.You see a lot of Americans at the registers in drug stores in TJ.Often,even with insurance on this side,it's cheaper to get your meds down there. Many U.S pharmas sell their products in Mexico.

However, anything major like a hip implant or if they have to cut you open,I'd stay with a U.S. doc. The docs and the hospitals here are light years ahead of what's goes on in Mexico.

BTW.Villa's wife always thought that her husband was deliberately killed (given an overdose of ether)because the gamblers lost a ton of dough on him when he was outpointed by McLarnin. Who knows?

http://imgur.com/lvCsKHz
Jimmy McLarnin

Bully Pulpit

I had it 155 to 112 for Pacquiao. I'm sure just about everyone, with the exception of the island continent, saw it that way too.So you can make a case that Manny Pacquiao got burglarized in Brisbane. I don't think it was a felony.Just a misdemeanor. I don't think there'll be a public outcry. I don't think anyone is pushing hard for a rematch...including Manny. I haven't read the papers about what his thoughts are,but after the decision was announced I noticed Manny had a little smile on his face. So should Manny Pacquiao go on fighting? Watching the pre fight hype on the TV,there was talk of bringing together Mayweather with Pacquiao again after the supposedly easy time PacMan was going to have with Mr. Jeff Horn. Horn was tough.Obviously a bigger man.He was crude,but kept coming forward with wild swings, determined not to let his fellow Aussies down. He didn't disappoint.But you could see that Pacquiao's ring generalship enabled him to pile up more points as the bout progressed.Manny hit the target more often.He was in great condition. So was Horn. It was a good fight.

When the bell rang for the 1st round,I really had no preference about who I was rooting for. But this green kid Horn came out like a bull in a China shop. His method took hold of me. I said to myself,
"Go ahead kid.Beat the old man.It's time for a change."

Don't get me wrong.Manny looked good.Better than what I might have thought.At 38 years of age, and all those wars,he could have come out of his corner looking staler than poor house cake. But he had a snap.He was moving and countering.His prowess was still evident.What wasn't there was the "killer" Manny Pacquiao. The Pacquiao that crushed Morales,broke down Cotto,that made Oscar give up,sent Ricky Hatton into virtual retirement,the Manny that went through Margarito and Mosley. Then there were the four search and destroy missions with Marquez.No,I didn't see that kind of vengeance in the Manny Pacquiao who fought in his 68th pro fight in Australia. He was still good,but not sensational. He hadn't been for some time.He hadn't scored a stoppage in more than seven years.Manny couldn't put a hurt on Mayweather,The Bradley fights were capable of causing sleeping sickness.


Manny Pacquiao has transgressed into something more altruistic than a human dynamo that put "L's" into his opponents boxing records. Manny Pacquiao is a symbol of the more than 7000 islands in the Pacific Ocean known as the Philippines. He's not only the Philippines' greatest sports hero...but their greatest national hero period. The Phillipines doesn't have much to put up on the dais if you look at their history. They've always been conquered by some European power,the U.S. or Japan.Many Asians consider the Pinoy as bottom feeders lacking an identity and a culture. Still answering to the United States,the Philippines is trying to rid themselves of foreign influence and poverty.Manny Pacquiao is focused on that mission to establish his country as a working democracy that puts all its citizenry on an even playing field.He's the right man to work for those goals. He could have separated himself from the struggling masses a long time ago. He could have moved to LA,ran with the starlets and jet setters,formed a habit,put on a vulgar show,even got himself arrested and thrown in jail.Manny hasn't gone that route. He's married to the same gal and has five kids. He's sincerely religious.He's a politician who's not on the take. He reaches out to the impoverished,the gangs,the rebels,and the youth that are at that fork in the road.He's spent millions out of his own pocket to try to remedy problems.He's devoted himself to being a senator in the island republic. When he runs for office he tallies 70% of the vote. Who in the Philippines would want to turn against him?This question bothers me.


I remember when Benigno Aquino Jr.returned from exile to compete with the "dictatorship" of Ferdinand Marcos. He never made it out of the airport. Aquino was a decent man,maybe naïve,but a man whose heart was with the Philippino people as they shared that same sentiment. Manny Pacquiao has the passion of a nation with him.Forget this fight with Jeff Horn.In a way it will enhance his legacy. Everyone knows that Manny got clipped. He returns to his homeland,not in disgrace like "No Mas" Duran,but still the "champion".The champion of his people.

But tragically, many noble figures have become martyrs.They are a threat to the psychopathic strongmen. These villains play by no rules.They perform without guilt. To eliminate a threat to their position is like swatting a fly. Manny Pacquiao knows this.But does he know who the betrayers are? Often the most dangerous are the ones closest to their prospective victim.

Manny Pacquiao wanted to give this fight to the American public free of charge. He's a guy who' feels he's been blessed. He wants to give back. He didn't give back to Jeff Horn like the old Manny we remember,Like that little smile that was on Manny's face after the fight might have been telling us,
"Congatulations kid. Have fun with the title. You put up a heck of a fight. Now I have to go back to the my country and be in a bigger one."

http://imgur.com/U54B9fH

Day Of The Dead

I read where they killed the brother of Julio Cesar Chavez. Bandits broke into the back of the home of Rafael Chavez in Culiacan,Sinaloa and demanded money. Rafael Chavez gave one of the robbers money,but it appears that the amount didn't satisfy the thieves. They demanded more, and when Rafael resisted,he was shot three times in the head. He was murdered in front of his family.This information was gleaned from the police report in Culiacan,the hometown of the Chavez family.Rafael Chavez ran a clinic in Culiacan for drug and alcohol abusers.The clinic serves around 250 addicts.Julio Cesar Chavez said that everyone knew that his brother was dedicated to helping people suffering from substance problems.Julio Cesar Chavez has battled with drug and alcohol abuse during his life.

Julio Cesar Chavez has now been informed by the FBI that there are individuals in Mexico who are threatening to kidnap him and his daughter. This information was relayed to the FBI by government officials in Tijuana.Chavez says he has made overtures to Mexican state authorities,but the responses have been inconclusive. They have told Chavez that one of the men who made the threats was recently released from prison.Chavez says that he is being virtually "ignored" by the Mexican government.He is angry and upset and afraid.

This story may or may not shock the reader.As far as I'm concerned it does not make me gasp for breath. We all know that Julio Cesar Chavez was Mexico's greatest boxing icon. That means something to some people,but to the ruthless, it says that Chavez and his family are targets.Being a hero in Mexico doesn't insure that you'll walk the streets with adulation. With fame and glory, wealth accompanies,and that will necessitate to looking over your shoulder.It will also require employment of an entourage of bodyguards.

The famous ranchera singer Vicente Fernandez had to finally relocate to San Antonio ,Texas to escape the wrath of the monsters who had kidnapped his son,Vicente Jr. He was held captive for four months. The kidnappers chopped off two of the son's finger.The ransom was paid.Fortunately, they released the son,but the father then gathered his clan and moved to the United States.

Adrian Gonzalez who now plays first base for the Los Angeles Dodgers ,had to take similar action to protect his family. Gonzalez grew up in Tijuana,but wanted to play high school ball in San Diego.He knew that he had the goods to get drafted into the Majors.A fellow teacher and friend of mine in the district by the name of Dave Gonzalez coached the baseball team at Eastlake high School in Chula Vista.Adrian played on that CIF Championship team. He was drafted by the Padres for the big money. Coach Gonzalez told me that when Adrian signed his contract,the cartels in Tijuana were making threatening phone calls . KIdnapping for ransom money was the message. Adrian had to relocate his family north.

There are very wealthy people living in Mexico.So what goes on with them?They pay and they pay big time to the cartels for protection.They also travel surrounded by bodyguards.When they have to be driven somewhere,the bulletproof vehicles are fortified by men with automatic weapons and shotguns. Sometimes I'll drive through a rich neighborhood in Tijuana and I can always tell where someone lives who needs to be on his guard.A half dozen or so button men carrying AR 15's stand outside the door.Carlos Slim,not only the richest man in Mexico but in the world,has to bend to this kind of lifestyle.

I've often heard that Mexico "needs a revolution."Well,they had one. It was a covert, slow work in progress,but they had one.It used to be that the Spaniards,the aristocrats,the old political families,the highly educated,and the wealthy businessmen controlled the fortunes on Mexico.On the surface it may still seem that way,but in reality it's a country ruled by the cartels.And now they fight between themselves to be the boss. There will never be just one cartlel that runs things. There'll always be wars going on for that power.The killings will never cease.

So who are the men that compose these gangs?They weren't elitists.They were never the chosen few. They were born in abject poverty at the lowest rungs of the Mexican social strata. They lived in broken homes rife with violence and abuse. They walked on dirt floors.They had no money.From their environment they learned violence.I'll use the cliché "law of the jungle" to make my analogy. They seperated themselves from their fellow downtrodden with a sociopathic tenacity that was the only way to rid themselves from despair.The Chapos,the Quinteros,the ex cops who were run out for overstepping their authority.The ones who were once on the bottom are now at the mountain top and that mountain is a volcano. They've moved in on law enforcement and the politicos. Their bedrock was controlling the drugs. Now they control everything:big business,politics,the entertainment industry,tourism. They even have their "own' music bands that glorify them in song.Patron saints are blessed by the church to protect them.It's a way of life now that the country learns to live with. It's fruitless to worry about it unless you're in a situation like Julio Cesar Chavez.Just leave well enough alone.

What's sad about all this is that the guys running the show now ,who have that history of what it was like to have nothing, are now in a position to straighten things out,but they won't.Oh,they may build a bridge in town or a little park here and there,but that's mostly wind and smoke.A night club with glamorous women and plenty of action is more to their liking.

Julio Cesar Chavez wants action to find the culprits and havethem pay the penalty for his brother's death.To make it look good, they may arrest someone,perhaps some patsy who they say did the shooting .It's really out of Julio Cesar Chavez's hands. His fame will only work against him.

The day of The Dead in celebrated on November 1st in Mexico.All the adult spirits come to the cemetery to visit their families. The families will put on the graves what their beloved deceased cherished the most in life .I'm sure Julio Cesar Chavez , with his family,will be at his brother's gravesite. I don't know what they'll put there.Probably something simple.Something innocent maybe that reflected the heart of a brother whose mission in life was to help people.


http://imgur.com/fEPGm7k

Julio Cesar Chavez

I am in the process of getting my condo sold in Ventura, California and moving to my brother's home in Arizona City, Arizona. Since my brother and his wife work in a bee operation located in Montana eight or nine months out of the year, I will have the home to myself much of the time. It is going to be quite a change moving from a city with terrific weather almost the entire year to an area with a tremendous amount of heat during the summer months.

- Chuck Johnston

I just read where Manny Pacquiao has criticized the referee for letting Jeff Horn fight "dirty." I guess Manny has gotten around to thinking about it and now has sour grapes about the result.At one point the ref wanted to halt the contest giving Manny the win,but Horn's people coaxed the third man in the ring to let the fight continue.I wouldn't watch Manny fight again even if it was on TV for free like this fight in Australia the other day. It's time to get on with new blood.Manny has had his day in the sun. We'll see how far Jeff Horn goes.As for Manny Pacquiao,we'll remember the good times,even when he lost .He lost in Brisbane fair and square.If Manny throws in the towel,he'll retire as close to finishing on top as it comes.We don't want to see him go the path of Roy Jones.So don't make excuses Manny. Return to your country and fight a greater fight. What you're up against trying to fix a political system in the Philippines,you'll need a lot more than a referee that's going to hold your opponents' feet to the fire to fight cleanly.I wish you the best. Your people are all pulling for you.But you're up against something a hell of a lot tougher than fighting Jeff Horn.

http://imgur.com/O6KcUvX

Roy Jones