BoxRec

A Recipe For Disaster

Every time Rodolfo Gonzalez would bring up one of his fights he'd never leave out that he had dispatched his foe with "my liver punch" or "my punch to the liver." That was his signature blow that spelled doom for his adversary.But thinking back on it,just about all the Mexican fighters specialized with a left hook to the liver. Ruben Olivares's left hook to the body was probably the most notable during his time.Of course that left hook had to be delivered by a fighter with an orthodox stance because the liver is located on the right side of the body.But sometimes I 'd see a lefty like Vicente Saldivar shift his stance to the right side in order to throw a left hook to his opponent's liver.

Sometimes however these Mexican fighters wouldn't have much else in their arsenal worth mentioning. I remember once I saw Julio Guerrero fight the Thai, Venice Borkhorsor in the Tijuana bullring. Julio loaded up with his left hook,but couldn't get through Borkhorsor's right elbow that he kept at his side. Borkhorsor was a lefty,a "surdo",and being a southpaw made it easier to shield his right side from the left hook. Guerrero's left hook kept bouncing off the Thai's elbow like a bb off a suit of armor. I don't know if the Mexican's corner told him to try something different. Maybe that's all Guerrero knew how to do. Anyway, between Borkhorsor's offense and Guerrero growing tired from throwing an ineffectual left,the outcome became apparent after a few rounds.

When Jose Napoles lost his title to Billy Backus in Syracuse,Jose optioned immediately for a rematch. But Napoles wanted a fight before he and Billy did an encore in Los Angeles. Napoles signed for a fight with the tough journeyman fighter Manual Gonzalez at the Arena Coliseo in Mexico City.The loss to Backus was kind of a freak thing. Jose's eyes were becoming a problem. Ever since L.C. Morgan gashed open Napoles's paper thin skin around his eye in Reynosa ,Mexico,his cuts were opening up in just about all his subsequent fights. He tried some kind of skin graft to stop the problem from recurring,but it just seemed to make the problem worse. When Jose got sliced open in Syracuse,the ring doc ,when he went over to examine the cut,said he could see all the way down to the bone. Jose wasn't fighting in Mexico like when he got a gift from referee Ramon Berumen and his uncle Jose Sulaiman in Acapulco when the unfortunate Armando Muniz got the shaft and was left with a stocking full of coal under his Christmas tree.When Jose got on the plane to go back to Mexico after his fight with Backus,all he had to declare at Mexican customs was a sack of charcoal.,He had to do some smart regrouping to set himself straight again.The fight he had with Gonzalez was shown on Mexican TV. I figured that instead of Jose getting off to a fast start.like he'd usually do to establish who was the boss,Jose would take his time.He worked his way slowly around Gonzalez. He wanted to get some work in instead of the quick KO. It was one of the rare times the aficianados displayed displeasure with a Mantquilla performance. As the fight progressed you could hear the build up of more and more "chifles",that obscene whistling..But Jose was just biding his time. Finally.I think it was in the 8th round Jose threw a liver shot. Gonzalex went down like a sack of frijoles..But anytime a fighter gets hit on the "button" like that from the left hook,the deja vu is all over again. There are no synonyms.It all looks te same.


For a time there was so much reliance from the Mexican's fighter with the left hook,there wasn't much the other guy had to prepare for. You knew what was coming. Marco Antonio Barrera had to develop more of an array of punches in his attack to become more successful in the ring. The Mexican fighters today are better schooled. Canelo's attack has a bill of fare that fills up his menu.Luis Nery has a left hook(and a right) that can fracture ribs.i saw Leo Santa Cruz the other night on TV. Very nice body shot combinations to both sides. I like watching a fighter that goes to the body.Let's face it,no one likes it down there.

I asked Rodolfo Gonzalez once why Mexican fighters specialized so much with the left hook to the liver.
"Well,it's like this,"he answered."We eat a lot of manteca in Mexico.You know, with everything. We cook everything with manteca,lard,the fat of the pig. That's not good for the liver.We know that every Mexican eats with manteca so we fighters want to go below. Hit the guy in the liver."
"Tell me. Do you eat food cooked with manteca?"
"Why sure.It gives the tacos more flavor."


Rodolfo Gonzalez

I Won't Bend Over

When I was watching Floyd Mayweather and Conor McGregor go at each other,I figured it would be a matter of time before Mayweather would come on and end things. I won't pay to watch a fight or any sporting event on television. Across the border they show it for free so I sat with plate of rolled tacos and a bottle of Tecate beer in front of me in the Burro Bar in Tijuana. I gave McGregor credit for lasting as long as he did. I thought Mayweather might have him out of there in round one. It used to be that fighters would have contests with wrestlers with the boxer doing his thing and the grappler grappling. These events were at most curiosity pieces. But now the promoters know that the public will buy into anything if marketed right.

Early in the match during a clinch,I thought that if McGregor was allowed to do his thing he could have got Floyd in a headlock,slammed him to the mat,and then stomp his guts out. But the rules were the laws of boxing,entirely in Mayweather's corner. So Floyd breaks Marciano's streak getting 50 wins without a loss at the expense of a Mixed Martial Artist who is a bad boxer. I couldn't see shelling out a hundred bucks to wach that.

Dempsey used to tangle with Strangler Lewis with both boys participating with the tools of their trade. Lou Thesz and Jersey Joe put on a similar show. But the public didn't take these ventures too seriously. The only kind of like battle that I saw on TV,and it was a replay, where the boxer had on the gloves and the wrestler wore his bun huggers was when Chuck Wepner tried to see what he could do with Mount Andre the Giant. I think the prize was a new Harley. i thought it had all the makings of a circus act. The Floyd and Conor show was real too like the the aforementioned ,but didn't leave me shaking my head laughing a little.

What bothered me was how the public(sports and all the rest)are so susceptible to the hype.Call it Madison Avenue. Call it the barker on the midway. It's like the media has turned into a sort of shopping channel. People can't think for themselves anymore. They get their information,in whaever form,from the tube or the internet. People think they have a mind of their own and it's got to be the biggest lie going around. They think they are free ,but they behave like cattle. Try introducing them to something that isn't in the mainstream and they'll walk away from you.

I can say it all started with my generation,The Baby Boomers. My prents didn't sit infront of a television set when they were kids because it hadn't been invented yet.When I was little I had no idea that the Sylvania was a new contraption. They were never transfixed for hours in front a picture screen. Gee,why is mom and dad looking over my shoulder while I'm watching Davey Crocket? Well,me and my baby booming buddies were soaking up everything on all those three channels seven days a week. Then Elvis came along and mom and dad could say adios to their parental input. Later, the Vietnam War kicked the door down.Marijuana and LSD sealed it for good.Everyone who was 18 knew more than mom and dad. The media and their advertisers swooped in for the kill. After a ten year war in Southeast Asia it was anything goes. Mom and Dad didn't have the drive anymore to try to stem the tide.

Today it's my grandkids and great grandkids that know more than me. The pendulum has swung in their favor. Millennials,I think that's what they're called, are in the media's crosshairs. If grandpa and grandma want to watch anything on TV there's Nick At Night and The Antique Road Show with all the pharmaceutical commercials. But it's a free country,in a way.I can watch Survivor or Naked Dating. I do have to say that I can still get it up. I still like to screw,but I'll be damned if I'm going to pay a hundred dollars and get it stuck in my arse by Bob Arum.After I sign off,I believe Naked Dating comes on at 6.


Rocky Marciano

Postscript

"You left out Alexis Arguello",said Jeff the bartender as he put the glass of draft on the counter in front of me.
"It must have slipped my mind,"I said
Champs had just opened.it was 10 o'clock.The place was empty. Champs never had much of a morning crowd during the week.
"I liked your story the other day on the forum but when you mentioned the great featherweights you left off Arguello."
"Like I said it must have slipped my mind."
"And you didn't mention Jose Legra or Little Red Lopez."
"Well,the story was about Davey Moore.I didn't want to put too many names down."
"You could have gone back and mentioned Freddie Miller."
"Freddie Miller? Boy,not many people remember him,"I said."For a younger guy you know a lot about the history of boxing.How old are you anyway?"
"42."
"Not many guys your age can go back that far."
"My dad and my uncle were fighters. When I wasn't watching them fight they'd take me to the boxing matchesThey were the ones that schooled me on the subject of boxing."
"Where was this?"
"Back in Ohio.Cleveland."
Jeff put a case of beer on the counter and slit open the top. He then started putting the bottles in the cooler that was underneath the bar.
"Tell me Jeff. Do many people that come in here talk about the fights anymore?"
"No one. They're all interested in the MMA."
"When Burke was in here there were more people that could talk boxing."
"I hate to say it but those fellas are all dead now."
"I noticed they still have Burke's news clippings on the wall and some pictures of when he was fighting."
"When Burke was in the home Shirley's son decided to keep every thing the same inside."
"But I see they put up a new sign out front."
"They didn't change the name from Champs but they took off the image of the fighter."
"Ever show the fights in here when they're on ESPN?"
"We'll put it on one of the screens but most everyone is watching something else."
"I have to admit that I don't follow boxing much anymore,"I said.
"Why's that?"
"I remember in the 50's.The white fighters were dwindling down. I know a lot of the old timers like my dad began losing interest."
"How 'bout you?"
"No. Guys like Patterson and Liston I followed. Then came Ali."
"I arrived here around 20 years ago. Burke told me that most of the fighters around here were Hispanic,"
"Still is that way."
"The only decent white guys who are fighting today are from Europe," said Jeff.
"They're a pretty tough bunch. The American white fighter is pretty much history,"
"The last good white American fighter I can think of was Kelly Pavlik and he didn't last long."
"I don't think the younger generation today cares one way or another,"I said.
"Yeah,this MMA has got everyone's attention."
"Look at all the gyms around. It's mostly MMA.Today if you get into a beef with guy and say "put 'em up" you get kicked in the balls."
"Or shot with a gun."
Jeff had put the last bottle of beer in the cooler.
"Well ,I've got to get going,"I said. "Just came by to check in."
As I got off the barstool and began heading for the door,Jeff caught up to me before I made my exit.
"You know another guy you left out was Johnny Dundee."
As I walked outside I thought to myself that this kid really knows his stuff.


Alexis Arguello

Backstage

Charley Johnston ,besides handling Archie Moore ,also had Sandy Saddler under contract. Charley's brother Bob owned the last burlesque house in the states,the Hollywood Theater next door. Bob also had the place next door to the Hollywood,The Sport Palace.By the time both establishments had turned the lights out,I think it was somewhere in the 1980's,that lower block of Market Street ,where Johnston made his headquarters, was in need of a facelift.The Vietnam War was long gone. The sailors who roamed the downtown area of San Diego wanted to see girls now that danced on the stage baring it all. The Hollywood strippers didn't go that far.They kept the pasties on and twirled the tassels that dangled from them like pros. They were strip tease artists.They'd come out on stage in a fancy gown with the white gloves to their bare shoulders,and slowly remove with temptress motions everything down to those pasties and a G string. They kept the spiked heels on however.They knew what they were doing.

The girls weren't the skinny types. I can say they had meat on their bones,built to the hilt.When they swiveled their hips their posterior flesh would wiggle and waggle like a lusty lure.Long wavy hair draping over their shoulders and down the backs. Big batty eyelashes and thick lipstick on mouths that purred like hot kitty cats.They all had bosoms as big as your head,no boobies. They had walking down to a swagger and could shift stance that would make your hair stand on end.

It was old burlesque that hadn't changed since Tin Pan alley was around. Eddie Ware was the comic who'd pop out with one of the dancers that was a head taller . She's be blushing and giggling at his sultry barbs. After each punchline the drummer would give it the standard rim shot. Eddie's derby was too small for his Pinky Lee face and head.But enough of that. The sailors and street people wanted to see Texas Bobbie Roberts all 6 feet and more in those spiked heels strut out onto the runway to the old piano player's comping on that well played upright.Then the cornet player would slide and smear his way into something like "I'm In The Mood For Love" with Texas Bobbie in step jerking and gyrating every part of her alabaster body in sync with the band's reverberations.


I was underage when I sat slouched down in those frayed cloth seats gaping at the most beautiful women I'd ever laid my eyes on. in my life. I bet they could have taught me everything I dreamed about in their perfumed boudoirs.

I got to go backstage once.The Hollywood was something that stayed in the past.You couldn't get the honkytonk out of it.I saw a few of the mat men from the Coliseum donning their Hawaiian shirts with the collars overlapping their sport coats.Freddie Blassie was cutting it up with girls and Eddie Ware. Jack O'Halloran was holding court along with with Blassie and between the two of them they had everyone going.

That old B house was a hangout. A place for the generation that got their laughs from the slapstick and one liners of an age that was still glimmering on lower Market Street.. The straight men and the punchlines,the old jokes that you knew were coming.But everything was above board. Nothing dirty. Vulgarity was off limits. It was OK to be naughty but you'd get tossed out on your ear if you turned the air blue.The dancers might have suggested something further,but that was for the customer to dream about..

All that is gone now. The Hollywood Theater and The Sports Palace were demolished to make space for cramped condominiums.Lower Market Street is trendy and touristy now.There are no footprints left. But sometimes when I drive by and take a look at where all the jokes and long sleeve gloves were left on the runway,I still wish that Texas Bobbie would have given me a key to her boudoir.


Lou Costello backstage at The Hollywood Theater

No Nonsense

I was watching on my DVD player an old episode of the series Omnibus hosted by Alistair Cooke. Cooke emigrated from England to America in 1932.Cooke fell in love with America becoming a citizen in 1937. He immersed himself in many endeavors relating to the United States. A journalist by trade ,he is probably most remembered for his radio broadcasts from the U.S. titled "American Letter" which he renamed later to" Letter From America." Cooke traversed across every nook and cranny of the U.S. wanting to explore the vast complexities of American life. His "Letter From America" radio airings to England and the rest of the continent entailed more than 2500 broadcasts. But what I remember most about Cooke's romance with America was his weekly television program during the 50's,"Omnibus." The show was aimed at the cultural side of America. I remember interviews with celebrities like Pearl Buck,William Faulkner,and Leonard Bernstein.But Cooke also wanted to capture the ilk of the common man in America-a new England lobster fisherman,a farmer in Iowa,a barkeep in San Francisco. The episode I was watching last night was when the Omnibus cameras were sent inside Stillmans Gym in New York City.

Cooke thought it wise to send the young sports caster Bud Palmer to Stillmans instead of bringing his English accent and tweed suit, vest and all inside the legendary sweat box..They coaxed Sugar Ray Robinson to take Palmer on a cook's tour of the old landmark.The episode looked to be somewhere in 1953 after Robinson re won the middleweight title from Bobo Olson. Palmer was remarking to Robby,calling him champ,about the how "easy" Sugar made the it look.

The focus was not so much on Robinson but what it was like day to day inside Stillmans Gym open six days a week(closed on Sundays).Robby was there primarily to explain what was going on. That afternoon there were the typical slew of fighters ranging from the man from the high rise office building that wanted to get some exercise learning the art of self defense through to a few contenders that were on the docket for an upcoming main event at St. Nicks or The Garden. Lou Stillman had his arms on the ring ropes as he told about how he opened up his place in 1917. Then he named dropped a few legends who honed their skills working up a sweat inside his gym that was up a flight of stairs on the 900 block of 8th Avenue:Dempsey,Tunney,Baer,Graziano,Marciano,and for sure, Sugar Ray.

Stillmans was the big time gym in Manhattan were the fighters could come in and practice on a daily basis to keep sharp. Stillman explained when a big title match was in the works then the boys would go to the Catskills to breathe in the fresh air.Trainer. Dan Florio was on hand to demonstrate how a he taped a fighter's hands.Matchmaker Jack Curley gave us a run down on his take when he was looking for two fighters to give the people their money's worth:basically ,the boxer against the slugger.Sugar then displayed his talents punching the speed bag and then the heavy bag. He demonstrated his array of punches:jabs,hooks, the straight right hand,and combinations.Shadow boxing,rope skipping,and calesthentics rounded out the quick course.

But I got to tell ya'.This is what made the biggest impression with me.There was no "bigness' intended to be conveyed by the our guides that afternoon..Lou Stillman.Dan Florio,Jack Curley,and even the charming presence of The Sugar Man were going along at a pedestrian pace. Bud Palmer,wearing a light sweater,looked like a guy that just wanted a few straightforward answers to his quench his curiosity.There was no upstaging. No loud noise. No Know It Alls.Nothing was pre staged or rehearsed.Like Jack Webb always said,"just the facts."

Filmed in black and white,the tape dimming in and out along with the voices. The camera man struggling at times to get everyone in focus trying to keep with the spontaneity. Palmer wasn't star struck.No one tried to step on the other guy's lines..But that's the way things went back then.The freneticism, pushing the microphone in a guy's face and wanting to hear some dirt on somebody.No baiting. No embarrassing or trick questions.No saying you were going to kill your opponent's wife and children or he looked like an ape or was a fag. No lighting a Zippo on a foreigner's flag.No F words.No threats of any kind.

Lou Stillman went on to say that anyone was welcome to his gym. Fighters dues were 6 bucks a month.A little more if he needed a locker.If you just walked in from the street and wanted watch the boys workout it cost you two bits.

Just think.I ain't got nothing going today. I think I'll go over to Stillmans and watch Sugar Ray Robinson skip rope and work on the speed bag and maybe spar a little. I'm sure I've got a quarter on me somewhere.



Sugar Ray Robinson




Ella Fitzgerald-Manhattan

Eating baloney on a roll.Can't get that out here in San Diego

No Contest

"You don't say.Boom Boom Mancini is going to be here>"I asked.
"Next Saturday between 2 and 4 in the afternoon,"said Carl.
Carl owned the neighborhood sports trading card store in the neighborhood. That was when the business of sports memorabilia was beginning to lose steam .Carl was behind the counter moving some displays around. There were a couple of older guys in the store looking around.

Obama had just got elected and he inherited a mess with the economy.The housing market ,which is a standard indicator,was taking a beating.People were losing their homes not being able to pay on the mortgages.They jumped on those adjustable mortgages because at first they were low,but then the rate began moving up and people were getting foreclosed on.The sports hobby enthusiasts didn't have the mad money to blow on Mickey Mantle cards anymore,although the Mick still held its value somewhat. But Carl ,was seeing the handwriting on the wall.
"I hope Mancini can bring in some business,"said Carl."If I can't get things going again I'll have to find a buyer or close the doors and walk away and take it in the shorts."
Carl was always on pins and needles.A lean guy with sandy hair and light skin.His eyes could size you up right away.He knew the business.The guys in that line reminded me of hucksters,fast talkers,trying to ooze out every cent on all those old baseball cards that our mothers threw away when we were kids when we weren't looking.There also was a demand for "graded" cards. Outfits like Beckett and PSA would examine the cards you sent to them and then determine what grade they were worth. The nicer the card the higher the grade. A grade of 1 meant the card was in bad shape. A grade of 10 meant the card was in mint condition. But it became a racket. Other grading sources popped up that would grade the cards too high and give them a false value. Beckett and PSA were the so called reputable sources.But then they started publishing their sports card magazines that noted what the different brands of cards were worth. There was a flood of cards in the market printed by dozens of companies with different trademarks. There were refractor cards,Chrome cards,Uniform patch cards. But like anything else these grading establishments had their hands out. If a manufacturer of ,let's say,a Mark McGwire rookie card, greased the proper palms then that card would have a higher value,according to the publication,than the other maker's Mark McGwire rookie card. Then came the greed of counterfeiting to make a buck.Autographs couldn't be trusted. San Diego,my burgh,was a center for bogus signatures. Carl was drowning and he wanted up for air.
"Yeah,Mancini is looking for something now that he's not fighting anymore,"said Carl.
"I notice you don't have any boxing cards in the store,"I said.
"I couldn't give them away. This business revolves around baseball."
"I don't think the kids are interested in collecting."
"PokeMan was a fad but that's all.The kids?No, it's the adults who want to recapture their youth with those old cards that are the thing that keeps it alive anymore."
"So what's Mancini going to do when he gets here?"
"I paid him to sign autographs,but I think I'm going to take a bath with this."
"You should have gotten one of the Padres like Tony Gwynn."
"I tried but his price was too high.Besides, his wife handles the financial end and she's hard to deal with."
The two guys who were looking around started for the door.
"Can I help you guys find something?"asked Carl as he saw them near the exit. One of them turned around.
"Just looking."
They then went out to the sidewalk.
"I get these guys in the store that are looking for a Babe Ruth rookie card and think they're going to take advantage of me.I don't have anything like that. I could tell them to go over to that store in LaJolla. That guy has everything and if he doesn't he'll tell you to come back tomorrow and then go in the back room and make a counterfeit."
"I know what your talking about. I went in there one day and he brought out a baseball with a Babe Ruth signature and tried to sell it to me for 7 thousand dollars.Problem was that the ball was made in 1983 with Bowie Kuhn's name stamped on it."
"He'll get caught up with. I hear the FBI is on the prowl.A lot of that phony stuff is coming out of Escondido in North County."
Another customer walked in.An older guy.
"Say Carl.I've got some autographs of Jack Dempsey and Henry Armstrong."
"Where did you get those?"
"In a used bookstore downtown."
"Bring them in one day.I'd like to see them."
"I don't want to sell them unless it was an offer I couldn't refuse."
"No one that comes in here would buy them."
"So do you think there's many people in the neighborhood that are interested in a Ray Mancini autograph?"
"Like I said.I think I'm going to take a bath with this one."


Ray Mancini

That episode of Omnibus sounds wonderful! A lot of the professionalism has gone out of the sport.

goose 5 wrote: ↑24 Feb 2019, 02:36 That episode of Omnibus sounds wonderful! A lot of the professionalism has gone out of the sport.

Goose
The normal everyday interaction with people,at least back then,was more civilized,straightforward,and not pretentious. The conversation was monotone,even mundane.Today,everyone feels they have to be over the top.They want life to be on adrenaline 24 hrs a day. I blame Hollywood. People can't be satisfied with just being themselves.Andy Warhol once said everyone gets their 15 minutes of fame. That isn't enough anymore.

Here ya' go Goose. This is what I mean. Floyd Patterson at Stillmans Gym 1956

Thanks much,Roger. Have you read The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science ? If not, I'm sure you would appreciate it a lot.

goose 5 wrote: ↑24 Feb 2019, 13:34 Thanks much,Roger. Have you read The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science ? If not, I'm sure you would appreciate it a lot.

No I haven't Goose,but I see I can get it on Kindle.When I'm done I'll get back to you.thanks Roger

Those Were The Days

I'm in the habit of always saying to my grandchildren,"Well back in my day..." I try to check myself,but often I can't hold it in any longer.
"I remember when gasoline was 25 cents a gallon." or
"I remember when it cost a quarter to go to the movies and see a double feature." or
"You could rent a house for 50 dollars a month."
Usually the comparisons have to do with money. You made less back then ,but you could make it stretch a lot farther. I think of some of things that were in my possession:my 57 Chevy Bel Air,my Mickey Mantle baseball cards, my Lionel 1950 train set with the steam locomotive. I guess they' might as well be scattered to the wind. I think if I had all that stuff now now I wouldn't sell any of it. What would it get me? Not enough money to live the rest of my life on the Riviera. I'd probably do what Goose Gossage used to say,"Spend it on booze and broads and blow the rest of it." But at my age I don't drink much anymore. I get sick before I get drunk and that's no fun. As far as women are concerned I feel I've spent a day inside a washing machine after I finally reach the happy moment. Then its time for R&R for the rest of the week.

Goose replied to one of my posts regarding that Omnibus episode I was watching on my DVD player.The compare and contrast of what it was like then to what it's like now.I guess the older generation is always spouting about what it was like in "their" day.99% of the time the old days were better than what you young whippersnappers are doing today. Well,for ione thing we have them at a disadvantage. They weren't alive back then or they were too young to remember. So what do we do?We tell them just the good stuff.

Goose asked me if I had read Mike Silver's book on boxing,The Arc Of Boxing-The Rise And Decline Of The Sweet Science.I ordered the book because I haven't read it I saw some of the comments when I went on line at Amazon. I always make sure to look at the people who give something a "1 Star" rating. Since I haven't read the book yet,I'll try not to pre judge. What I saw from the raters was that the old timers that Silver interviewed believe the "old days" of boxing( before 1955) were better than what ensued .That's where I'll leave off with the book.

I remember watching on television Tony Zale and Rocky Graziano sitting with Curt Gowdy talking about their trilogy of slaughter. Only the third fight was filmed. After discerning the nuances,Tony and Rocky were asked about "today's" fighters.Now remember this program aired somewhere in the early 70's.Well, both ex pugs got a laugh out of that inquiry.
"Naw.Naw,"exclaimed Rocky looking away and shaking his head."Today's fighters ain't nothing like we were."
Zale backed up his old adversary in so many similar words.

Well,what's the point of going on? Ali,Foreman,Frazier,Duran,Hagler,Hearns,Leonard,,Monzon,Napoles,Sanchez,Zarate,Olivares,Arguello,Jofre(the fighters of my era)I guess wouldn't hold up. Then there's Tyson,Evander,,Lewis,Mayweather,Chavez,Manny,Marquez,Canelo,Joshua,GGG,Lomachenko,Ward(fellas that came down the road later)I imagine if Zale and Graziano were still around those boys wouldn't get any kudos either.

I'll leave off with this though. Too bad there was no internet boxing forums around when Zale and Graziano were alive.How could they leave out Wilt The Stilt?Could you see a guy like Kalan raking them over the coals?Where is he when you need him?


Tony Zale

What Are The Odds?

I was following up on one of the ;posters who responded to my comment on the "Post Your Scorecards" thread. He was right about only one Vegas casino taking any action on the Douglas/Tyson fight,the Mirage. The oddsmaker,Jimmy Vaccaro, opened the betting at 27 to 1.The rest of the bookies just had the over and under round betting.His first bet was a guy who laid out 80 thousand to win 3 grand.So then he moved the odds up to 32 to 1 to win 3 g's.Eventually it got up to 42 to 1 however you had to take Tyson.You could have bet Douglas at 37 to 1. Vaccaro said one guy bet a grand on Douglas and won 37 thousand.Vaccaro also said that he took in thousands of small bets on Douglas(5,10,20 dollars.)Allowing for two way betting the bookmaker wins either way.Vaccaro said he made sure his handle was balanced enough where he turned a small profit of $104,000 after Douglas won.Been even smaller if Mike would have been on top."Onetimeonly",the poster who commented,was right about not much casino action on that fight.

But now the question of illegal bookmaking with off shore betting places like in the Caribbean where there's no paper trail.Sometimes with the right connections there's no down payment or just a fraction of the wager.Then there's the incentive of not paying taxes too. When I think of high rollers,I think of guys who are looking for anyway to get an edge.

My uncle Joe was a bookie many years ago. He won a 5/10 bet(picking the winners in races 5 through 10) at the Caliente Race Track in Tijuana for 16,000.Next thing you know he opens up a produce market in the east county of San Diego way off in the boondocks. Here's a greaseball who was a goon for the mob most of his life.The only real job he ever had was tending bar in one of the Outfit joints.He don't know nothing about fruits and vegetables unless he saw them on a slot machine. So out front of the store he's got the fruits and vegetables rotting away and in the back room he's taking bets on the telephone.Funny thing,everybody around knew what he was doing, Even the sheriffs. But I think those sheriffs were placing bets with my uncle too.

My uncle Joe finally got thrown out of coming to Caliente. He and an ex jockey ,who had his license revoked because he was throwing races, had smuggled in a telephone inside the track. Back in those days there weren't no telephones inside the track because of the stunts like my uncle and his pal were pulling. Their scam was the same one that was in that movie The Sting.They bribed a guy working at the Western Union office to delay the running of the races for a few seconds. if a horse in a certain race was way out front(according to the Western Union plant) coming down the stretch, then my uncle would go to the seller's window and place a bet on the horse.I don't think they caught him red handed but they knew something wasn't right. I think they busted the guy working the teletape at the Western Union.My uncle didn't wind up in the Tijuana jail so that's how I know. But he did go to the Tijuana jail when the Rosarito Beach Hotel was operating a casino in the back premises and the federales one night raided the place. I'm sure the hotel was either skimming off the take that was part of the bribe that went the Mexican government or the federales wanted another guy to take over the operation.

With all the money my uncle made gambling over the years, he lost even more.He never had a car.He lived in a rundown apartment near his produce market. He was married for a year when he went overseas to Europe during the war fighting with Patton. When the war was over he came back to Chicago and found out his wife was shacking up with every serviceman walking up and down State Street.. He proceeded to throw her down a flight of stairs.

My uncle Joe died pretty much alone.He came out to San Diego and lived with us. My father didn't care for him much. They had grown up in the same neighborhood. My mother,his sister,was the only one in the family that worried for him.But he wanted to stay by himself. He was the black sheep of the family.Just give him a spread sheet and telephone in the back room and he was satisfied. What are the odds of that happening?



The old Tijuana jail on Calle Ocho. The Mexicans use to call the place Calle Ocho(Eighth Street).They tore it down years ago. I spent a few hours in there. A cop caught me pissing in the street one after a night of bar hopping.That was one thing you couldn't bribe a cop with,pissing in the street. They had their pride. A gringo pissing in the street was a few hours in jail and a 24 dollar fine.

Taking Aim

Sugar Ray Robinson was asked very often if he liked boxing.Edward R. Murrow,on his program See It Now, asked Robinson,who was with his wife Edna,that question if he liked boxing Robinson who was about as easy to figure out as The Sphynx,gave his standard reply,"No Ed I really don't like boxing..."Bud Palmer in that Omnibus episode at Stillmans Gym asked the same question to his tour guide Sugar Ray. Ditto for Palmer,"No Bud I really don't like boxing..."The reasons Robinson gave were a hodge podge of excuses that varied as often as a woman restyling her hairdo.
"I needed to box to support my family."
"I always wanted to be the best at something."
" I fell in love with boxing because where I was from in Detroit Joe Louis was my hero."
With the "making it look so easy "way, Robinson had rung up 123 victories against the one loss to LaMotta.Made fans wonder why the best pound for pound fighter who ever stepped inside the ring could not like his trade.I'm not going to try to tell you why Robinson always answered that question with the same negativity nor would I try to analyze his reasons.

If a fighter with little skill who loses a lot more than he wins,gets counted out by the referee bout after bout,and doesn't merit being in a main event says "No I don't really like boxing..." you get up to go to the kitchen to make a sandwich. But when the great Sugar Ray Robinson frowns and looks down muttering that boxing isn't for him,then you break out the tape recorder or today, your I Phone

I met Robinson a couple of times with my father. They knew each other somewhat from back in Chicago.My father never gave the impression to anyone that he was star struck by their presence. If Rocky Marciano had walked into the room my father would draw the attention upon himself."Hey Rocky.Tell your mother not to put any onions in her gravy." I think that's the way most of those mob guys thought.If your weren't in The Outfit: you were just a nobody.If you want a parallel think of Joe Pesci in that movie Goodfellas sitting with all his mob friends at that restaurant. Those guys thought that they were the cock of the walk.Everybody else was a big joke.
"Sugar Ray Robinson?Just another moolie" to the greaseballs sitting around that table.
But I hate to say it,but that arrogance will get more of a humbling response from Sugar Ray Robinson than if you were to fawn all over him.

When I met Robinson with my father my father treated him like he would have done with me.I'm You're just my son.You don't know nothing.I'm not going to take you seriously.Ha Ha. I remember my father joking around with him about the time some mob hitmen whacked some guy who was a rat with a shotgun blast from a drive by automobile. Robinson was standing at the curb and thought the shooting was aimed at him. Robinson relived the incident in his mind and blushed and giggled like a little kid in front of my father who had his arm around his shoulder.

Carmen Basilio told the story of how when he was working his way up the ladder he saw Robinson on the street with his entourage. Basilio was with his wife and wanted to introduce himself and his wife to the champ.Basilio said he made his approach with words to the effect that he was a great admirer of Robinson and it was an honor to meet him.Carmen had his hand out while complementing Sugar. Basilio said that Robinsion just gave him the brush off.Basilio then went on to say that if it was the last thing he ever did he was going to kick Robinson's ass someday. When Robinson died they asked Basilio how he felt.
"I didn't give a damn about the SOB.He was the most arrogant guy on the face of the earth."RIP Sugar.

So now I think I did something I said I wouldn't do.Try to get into Sugar Ray Robinson's head. I guess if you didn't take him seriously,he'd open up to you.but if you held him high regard...well you might have wanted to be one of those button men that day when they were blasting away at that guy who was standing near Ray Robinson in Chicago.You could have said your hand slipped on the trigger and you accidently blew away the great Sugar Ray Robinson. I'm sure something like that might have crossed Carme Basilio's mind.


Carmen Basilio

Honk Honk

When Raimundo"Battling" Torres signed to fight the new junior welterweight champion Carlos Oritz I had a bad feeling-a bad feeling for Torres. The aficianados up here were all on his bandwagon. Torres had never lost a pro fight. He went into the ring that night with 31 straight victories with 24 KO's.The venue was the biggest in LA-The Memorial Coliseum. Ortiz also sported an impressive record:30 victories against 2 losses. Johnny Busso snapped Carlos's undefeated streak with a split decision win at the Garden and Kenny Lane won a MD in Miami.A little later the two would be matched again for the vacant junior welterweight title in at MSG.This time Carlos got to Kenny early cutting him up pretty bad around the eyes.Harry Kessler and the ringside doc stopped Lane from any further damage after round two

Ortiz was very popular in New York. He was Puerto Rican and the growing PR community was 100% in his corner. He had honed his skills with gurus like Teddy Bentham,Whitey Bimstein,and Charley Goldman.He slugged it out on his way up to the title shot with veteran fighters like Lane,Busso,Joey Lopes ,and Dave Charnley. The arenas included names like the Boston Garden ,the Syracuse War Memorial,St, Nicks,and of course The Apple's boxing Mecca,Madison Square Garden.

Torres was born in Reynosa,Mexico which is a tough town located on the other side of the Texas border just across the Rio Grande in northern Mexico .That's where Torres got his start-Reynosa,Matamoros,Monterrey,a few fights at the Arena Coliseo in DF(Day Efay-Districto Federal).The names of his opponents didn't ring a bell with me.He took his win streak to Los Angeles were the multitude was waiting to see their "killer" in action.At the Olympic Auditorium he beat Paulie Armstead via decision and then made short work of Busso and Frankie Ryff. During his time in Los Angeles Torres was being handled by Norman Lockwood.

About the bad feeling I had:I'd seen Torres's fight with Armstead on the replay. Armstead was a pretty slick fighter,but that night he looked lie he was just giving Torres a workout. Torres was a wild swinger who was never taught a jab and how to work off it. His balance was bad.His footwork was crude. He didn't slip punches and left himself open.I was thinking to myself how he did he get to be an unbeaten fighter?

The fight wasn't close. From the start Ortiz knew he could control Torres and set him up for what he wanted to do to him.Ortiz could outbox him ,make him miss so he could counter.He even could out slug Torres when he got the urge.Mushy Callahan could have stopped the fight earlier but I think he wanted to make sure that Torres had had enough before the finish in round 10.Later on Billy Conn, who refereed one of Ortiz's defenses against Sugar Ramos ln Mexico City,almost got himself Dobe Walled..The aficianados thought that Billy was giving the advantage to Carlos before the fight ended in Ortiz's favor. No,Torres took a thumping that night in the LA Coliseum. Torres looked like a rank amateur. Not even a worthwhile contender.

I look back on it now and think about the candid words of cocky Greg Haugen before his showdown with Chavez,""all those wins were against Tijuana cab drivers." Well,it works that way when you're from Reynosa ,Mexico. You're not going to find any Whitey Bimsteins or Charley Goldmans in the gyms down there. A fighter would have to travel hundreds of miles to wet his whistle in a reputable arena like in Mexico City or even Tijuana. As far as the opposition?Well,I'm sure that a lot of Torres's victims moonlighted driving a taxi cab in the barrios when they weren't in the gym. Any way to make ends meet.You got to eat.



Carlos Ortiz at the World Boxing Hall Of Fame


The cab driver song, CERO 39-Mike Laure y sus Cometas

Great analysis of Sugar Ray, Roger. Did you ever see anybody wear clothes better than Robinson? This guy was tailored to perfection.

I Was The Greatest

If there's a more sumptuous chunk of fodder to feed into the cannon of controversy of who were better fighters,the old timers or the fellas we have around today,Mike Silver's book "The Arc Of Boxing-the Rise And Decline Of the Sweet Science' is made to order to exalt or exterminate on the media's multitude of boxing forums. Silver attacks hitting the boards running about what's going on today with the world of boxing. The fighters,the trainers,the commissions,the promoters,all their efforts are either amateurish, misguided or down right exploitative. Silver's backups include gentlemen from the era of Gentleman Jim to the present day pundits.Teddy Atlas,Freddie Roach,,Ray Arcel,Mike Capriano Jr.,Manny Steward representing the trainer's corner. Carlos Ortiz,Bill Goodman,Hank Kaplan,Tony Arnold,and Ted Liskey comprising a partial list of ex fighters and historians. None of the above mentioned pulled any punches with their assessments and criticisms of the pugilistic picture that has morphed from a sport that was once drenched with top quality fighters into a smokescreen of over hyped mediocracy. Silver and his entourage spell it that boxing is not only declining but on the verge of a deserved extinction.

But I'm not here to dismantle the claims of Mike and his pals,and I'm not going to put their opinions into the burning bush.Like most books that take a hardline stance hammering away page after page to make you a convert,there's wisdom to look at the other side of the coin.

The arguments that bring myself into their camp are the quotes about the lack of skills fighters possess today. That shortcoming is blamed because of a lack of reputable trainers that are out there. I won't argue with that.If the punches were just being thrown by Silver then I think the armchair boxing critics like myself would think "who in the hell is he to talk?"But when you get guys like Roach and Atlas and Steward laying down the law,you listen because if you call them a jerk off,then you get countered with "who in the hell are you to talk?"

Silver's boys backhand the modern day champs like Duran,Hagler,Leonard,Hopkins,DeLaHoya,Jones,Lewis,Mayweather,and Tyson.
"They were good because they didn't have the competition like the fighters did in the old days(pre 1955)"
And then of course most of the fighters before 1955(lets use the lightweight division)could have beaten Roberto Duran.,and those old timers wouldn't necessarily had to have been title holders.

But after finishing the book I have to agree with most of the slams against the plethora of champs we have today with their array of belts and millions in the bank(at least for now).I think it would be boring for you to read why I think Silver's book is credible or not so.. His interviewees are astute and knowledgeable,Their insights on technique are very enlightning.It made me feel good because a lot of what they had to say was the stuff I was seeing with my eyes.

I'll only go into one specific,and it has nothing to do with skills or lack of. Teddy Atlas was expounding on what fighters need to do today.Atlas was commenting on the hum drum performance between Jermain Taylor and Winky Wright's sleeping pill of a boxing exhibition. Atlas knocked it out of the park with this line.
"Wright and Taylor did not possess what the old time fighters did.in the old days there was a consistency born out of an urgency that never went away."
I'll carry that thought with me.Call it more heart. Label it has having more guts.

Mike Silver dissed the Gatti/Ward trilogy as a "monotonous display of mindless brutality."
Hey Mike.Who in the hell are you to talk?



Arturo Gatti

goose 5 wrote: ↑28 Feb 2019, 20:55 Great analysis of Sugar Ray, Roger. Did you ever see anybody wear clothes better than Robinson? This guy was tailored to perfection.

Goose
I saw an HBO documentary on Robinson. It showed him leaning on his pink Cadillac on the block where he had all his enterprises.Priceless. Then there was a brief cut of him walking down the stairs from his apartment in Brooklyn. He looked like a cross between Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly ,a glow in his eye, donned in a blood red sweater ,pressed dark slacks,and patent leather shoes.Hair all straightened out and slicked back,pencil thin mustache,and a smile the ate up the front sidewalk.I said I'd pay to see him work out at Stillmans Gym.Hell,I'd pay to see him walk up and down those stairs.

Hey Goose
Nice little piece on Robinson. Shows him walking down those stairs of his house.

Terrific footage.

Teddy Atlas

Loss

Nowadays if you tune in to a fight on ESPN,let's say,you can bet that the featured fighter in the main event has an undefeated record. I can't remember a time when more main event fighters show no defeats in the loss column. The different boxing associations have their champions displaying their unblemished records atop their divisions like paragons in the halls of fistic conquers.A problem then arises when these different sanctioning bodies overly protect their perfect records. You'll see 2 or 3 undefeated champions in a particular division wondering if there's ever going to be some unification to settle things. Often these unsoiled fighters are pitted in a title bout against a foe(usually ranked as the number one contender) , maybe harboring a loss or two, but when examining the opponent his name draws a blank. Sometimes the adversary is from far off land where the promoter advertises that he's the champ of Timbuktu. Usually these temporary emigres exhibit skills no more than best of the worst prelim fighter. But the fight is built up to be the second coming of Ali/Frazier I. If Sherlock Holmes were to investigate these fighters' backrounds he could submit in court that what the promoter had put on the fight poster was the result of hiring Pinocchio to do the print job.It takes years for these undefeated champions to finally square off against each other,if it ever does happen.

Back in the days(Hey Mike Silver,I'm with you on this one) there were eight divisions with the National Boxing Association and Ring Magazine 99% of the time in lockstep as for who was the champ. That held pretty much the same for the top ten contenders in each division. So today with a multitude of sanctioning bodies from every corner of the globe, and to go along with that,the additions confusing sub divisions, the palms are out there to be greased.

A friend of mine who manages a fighter that has been fighting mostly south of the border will call me time from time.
"Hey,Rog. My guy needs to come up with 5 grand so he can fight for the super lightweight title of Baja California."
"Well,where is that money goin'?"I ask wanting to drop the phone.
"To the sanctioning body."
"You mean to tell me you have to scrape up 5 thousand so your fighter gets a shot?"
"If my guy wins then he'll be in line to fight so and so who's ranked number 30 in the world and the purse will be for 50 thousand and I'll double your money back."
By this time I want to tell him he's up a big creek without a paddle,but instead I just say."I'll ask around and get back with you later."

So now these boxing associations are in the extortion racket. I think it's the main reason they're in this endeavor in the first place. You've got protected champions who have built their pristine records over the outstretched bodies of fighters who have begged Peter to pay Paul so they can get a shot and then become fodder and hopefully clear a few thousand dollars before flying back to Togo Land.. But the fight was on ESPN so it had to be significant.That's what they want us to think anyway.

Now I want to get to this point of the fabricated importance of an undefeated record. With the world spinning out of control for so many,perfection becomes a quest. Control accompanies this search. Because the nature of things is imperfect ,this adoration for purity has become an unnatural perception,and when defeat rears its ugly head eventually the world comes crumbling down for many Breakout the Prozac. To the fan, he just shifts his attention to another Superman until he gets hit with a chunk of kryptonite. For the fighter tasting the reality of losing for the first time,the event can have devastating consequences.

When intimidators like Iron Mike and Big George were seen gasping for air lying prone on the ring mat hearing "ten and out",many in their entourages were left at the altar. But for Mike and George they had the monumental task of restructuring their house of cards. Their vulnerabilities that was witnessed by millions put their endorphins into the rabbit hole. Ali,who claimed to be The Greatest,had tasted defeat. Buster Douglas, who was the 42 to 1 underdog, deserved those odds by losing to fellas like David Bey ,Mike White,and Jesse Ferguson. After those first losses,Mike later went to jail and never won another heavyweight title unless you considered Frank Bruno the real champ.(Still there Mike?)

As for George,he thought if he could KO five fighters in one night,the wotld would think of him again pre Zaire. Instead George was thinking of putting a permanent solution to a temporary problem.He said after the Jimmy Young fight that he got religion.To his credit he re invented himself into one of the friendliest guys on the planet,and to put icing on the cake ,won a heavyweight championship.

Ali,Louis,and Robinson,when they got knocked off the pedestal for the first time,picked themselves up and went back to business. When their careers ended their records would show more losses. But back then(Hey Mike you still with me?) a loss was just a part of life,not the end of the world. If Mayweather would have got the wrong end of the split against Oscar,he'd still be talked about as being a great fighter. Sometimes I think his undefeated record has worked against him with the critics.Just finishing the Silver book there's paragraph after paragraph about how overrated the Money Man was. To hear some of the pundits analyze it Floyd couldn't have beaten the routine club fighter back in the day.If he had no one would have lost any sleep over it.



Floyd Mayweather

Spinning The Truth

When Arnold Raymond Cream wanted to change his name before entering boxing's stage he could draw from a good list of great colored fighters.His adopted moniker became Joe Walcott. He slapped "Jersey" in front of the "Joe" because that was from The Garden State and also because there was another black fighter who also was born with the name of Joe Walcott. Later, when Jersey Joe Walcott was hammering his way up the ladder to finally the win the heavyweight title from Ezzard Charles,(You can put that left hook right alongside Sugar Rays' left that flattened Fullmer).The former Joe Walcott and world welterweight champion,to distinct himself from the bigger Jersey Joe, was given the nickname "Barbados" in front of his Joe Walcott.He was born in that neck of the woods. Arnold Cream didn't make an unsystematic choice when he made the switch of names. Jersey Joe revered the old ex welter champ..

I heard Jersey Joe talk about his idol once in a televised interview. He said that Barbados Joe was one of the craftiest boxers who ever stepped into the ring. He won the welterweight title way back in 1901 from "Rube" Ferns in a day when colored fighters were mostly fighting each other in everlasting round robin fashion. They were also used by the unscrupulous promoters to sell out matches so the insiders could cash in after the final act was over in the ring. I'm sure mixed in with the 32 losses and 27 draws on his record Barbados didn't perform on the up and up in most of those bouts. Jersey Joe would talk about how Barbados Joe would spin an opponent to get him position so he could land punches or to move off the ropes.Jersey Joe made famous his "turn and walk away " posture often in a fight.It was something taken from a page in the Barbados' menu. Jersey used that shift often with Joe Louis when he fought the first time for Louis's title. Jersey Joe got robbed that night even though he dumped Louis twice on his rear. It was the first time Joe Louis had heard the crowd boo him at the Garden. Archie Moore echoed the same observations about Barbados' fighting style.
"You don't see fighters today using those tricks anymore,"quoted Archie
. When we think of Jersey Joe and The Mongoose we think of guile and ring savvy. You can hand Barbados Joe a lot of that credit.

Both Jersey Joe and Moore were born after Barbados Joe had finally called it a career. He was 40 years old when he stepped out of the rung for the last time in 1911. There's no film footage of any of his fights. We can only assess by looking at his record,the newspaper reports,and of course the observations by the people that saw him in the ring.Nat Fleischer,the editor of Ring Magazine and an old school advocate,rated Barbados Joe Walcott the best welterweight ever.I'm sure if Nat was still breathing he'd make the same judgement.

But thinking back when guys like Jersey Joe and Archie Moore were kids growing up hearing their fathers and uncles talk about the black fighters of the turn of the century,the history lessons they gleaned from those talks about Jack Johnson,Sam Langford,Joe Gans,Dixie Kid,Peter Jackson,Sam McVey,Joe Jeanette,Jack Blackburn,and Barbados Joe Walcott were mostly on the mark. Oh I'm sure there was a some hyperbole,but that was stemming from cherishment Ask a black man about a black fighter and there's a certain underlying appreciation that you won't hear in the bars along Main Street USA. Oh maybe guys like Nat Fleischer,Lou Stillman,and Ray Arcel could shed proper light also,but today if we want their takes on those black fighter of yesteryear we have to dig in the annals.That's all that's left anymore.At least that's my spin on it.


Barbados Joe Walcott

A Gum Wrapper

Teddy Atlas says that when a fighter uses PED's he admitting that he can't depend on himself. Fighters ,being athletes,would be included I assume. The question arises if steroids don't do the job does the fighter hit the panic button? The chemicals build muscle and strength in the body,but with that added physical presence is there an accompaniment of confidence? Take the case of Fernando Vargas with his fight with Oscar DeLaHoya. The edge Vargas wanted by taking the steroids wasn't there,or at least Fernando didn't get the benefit like he thought was going to happen.

The argument is that PED's don't make you a better boxer,maybe stronger in body,but regarding the skill factor there's no real evidence. Many trainers will keep their fighters away from the weight room because the bigger the muscles, the fibers become slower to utilize and less flexible .The added heaviness tires a fighter out more than being a component that vanquishes an opponent more quickly..

Jake Lamotta's wife,Vicky,said that when her husband was training for the St. Valentines fight in Chicago,that Jake was supplementing steroids for food in order to get down to the 160 limit. Evander Holyfield hooked up with Mr. Universe Lee Haney in order for the bodybuilder to give him some "tips" on getting bigger. Evander wanted more weight and muscle mass so he could hang in there with Lennox Lewis,Mike Tyson,and Riddock Bowe. In short time Holyfield rises from being a trim 175 pound light heavyweight to a muscle massed 215 pound real deal. His forehead protruded,his pecs ballooned, his muscles retained fluid-telltale signs of steroid use. When law enforcement was investigating the actions of a company named Applied Pharmacy Services that was providing PED's to athletes they discovered in their documents a patient who called himself "Evan Fields" who had the same birthdate as Evander. The address was 794 Evander,Fairfield ,Georgia.When investigators dialed the phone number of "Even Fields" Holyfield answered. During the three fight series with Riddick Bowe,Holyfield fell into states of fatigue that made onlookers think that there was something wrong with his heart.In 2007 Holyfield was linked to a Human Growth operation in Orlando,Florida.

Unlike Fernando Vargas,Evander Holyfield won various heavyweight titles and beat some world class competitors-Dokes,Douglas,Foreman,Holmes,Bowe,and The Ear Chewer. So can we say that PED's helped Evander? Yes and no. He needed the chemicals to gain the weight. His movements slowed down,but then the bigger men he was fighting were in his speed limit. I never thought that Evander Holyfield used drugs to procure a confidence that he thought needed reinforcing. The edge he wanted,or at least being level,was on the scales.

When Teddy Atlas says that there's a psychological wanting by a fighter who turns to steroids,that "he can't depend on himself",he's right. Charles Darwin,if Chuck was still around,would likely be in Teddy's corner. .But do only the strong survive without something else that keeps them from being frightened or at least worried? Who or what is with them in their corner? A faith?A loved one?Money in the bank?Sound health? A gun tucked in a pocket? A marijuana joint? A needle full of HGH?

I had this weird dream one night. I was alone on the moon and got so lonely that I had a nightmare panic attack.In this dream I was crawling on the ground when I saw a gum wrapper.I clenched my hand around it with everything I had and brought to my chest. Then I woke up in a cold sweat.Somehow that dream I had has something to do with what I just wrote.



Evander Holyfield

Fumble Fingers

Some people have mental blocks about things that to someone else seem trivial. The day I realized I wasn't going to pursue a boxing career,I thought maybe there was another avenue related to the sport that would prevent me from getting punched in the head yet I could still be in the game.I think I have an aptitude for what a boxer should be doing in the ring-adapt a style that's apropos to the man's physicality and talents. After showing minimal promise working out at various gyms in San Diego,I wanted to show that I could contribute by doing something else. I dreamt of being a trainer.If I couldn't be Rocky Marciano,the image of myself being the next Charley Goldman was rewarding enough.I got close to Burke Emery who was handling a stable of fighters in San Diego. Burke had his own gym in North Park,but couldn't keep it together so he moved operations to the San Diego Coliseum.

I was showing up,and although Burke saw that I didn't have my heart in fighting,he liked me enough not to toss any insults in my direction. In fact he didn't do that with anyone.He could see pretty early on if someone didn't have it. Usually the lack had nothing much to do with talent,but like in my case, there was no fire in the belly. One thing I had on my resume was a dead give away-I had graduated from college. Fighters for the most part ain't Phi Beta Kappas and never cared much for schools..Most fighters come from poor back rounds and families that are in mostly chaos.They don't want to pump gas or swing a pick for a living.But that said they need a vital ingredient-they've got to like fighting,or at least get into a lot of fights growing up as a kid.They figure they might as well get paid for giving and taking.

Well,while I was fulfilling my English major in college reading Shakespeare and "learning" about real life by reading Norman Mailer,the guys in the gym were enrolled in the school of hard knocks.I used to work in the local reform school when I was doing my student teaching.For a lot of those kids that was as far as they went in school. I made sure my lesson plans didn't include works by Shelley or Yeats. There were plenty of fights at Juvenile Hall usually over something that the average person would think as inconsequential.("I didn't like the way that guy was looking at me" or "He was wearing 'red' and that was why I shanked him.") I guess that's why so many juveniles delinquents find an "out" in the lock up.But nowadays they don't have a lot of boxing programs in jails. They've started to take away the weights too.. They want the kids to indulge in more civilized endeavors like basketball.

Burke Emery gave me a foot in the door one day when he asked me to tape one of the fighter's hands. I'd watch guys like Burke and Doyle Millsap tape hands hundreds of times in the gym.I got my beginning wrapping hands with Ace bandages-simple beginner stuff.I remember when I broke my cherry. Burke asked me to wrap this black kid's hands before a sparring session. The kid was sitting in a chair opposite where I was seated. I had the Ace bandage roll in my hand. The kid offered his right hand. I began my rolling. I started at the wrists and was rolling at a pretty good pace,all the while wanting the black kid to think I could do this in my sleep. But when I reached the kid's hands I began to fumble. Between the kid's fingers and the thumb I was haphazardly going down the rabbit hole. The wrap was loose and lumpy.I got lost.The kid gave me a funny look.
"How's that feel?"I despairingly asked.
"Yeah,"he mumbled.
The kid then got up from the chair without letting me finish wrapping his other hand.Then he walked over to Burke unwrapping the bungled job I did on his right hand,and let Burke show him how hands should be wrapped.

Burke gave me a few more chances but the outcomes had similar endings. After a awhile Burke wasn't sending anymore bodies in my direction..I think the fighters told him that I was a lousy wrapper.Burke never said anything about it. As far as I was concerned after that I just kind of watched what was going on.. I thought less of being Charley Goldman and began focusing my attention at a sport where I had experienced more success.-football. When I got my credential I went into teaching right away. with the main purpose to be a football coach. I've got to say I did a lot better coaching football than I did inside the boxing arena .Now I was thinking maybe Vince Lombardi should make room for me. We had some pretty teams. We won 3 county championships and though I never made it past the high school level I was satisfied with how everything turned out.

But before I log off I've got to leave you off with this caveat. Before one of our games one of the kids asked me if I could tape his ankles.Sure.I've got this football thing down to a science. The kid was sitting on a bench in the locker room. He pointed his toes upward,his foot at an 90 degree angle. I had the gauze in my hand and began wrapping smooth and sure. Then it was time for the tape. I went around the ankles but when I arrived at the feet and toes it was de ja vu all over again.I fell into the rabbit hole.. But this time I was open about it.
"Look,I was never any good wrapping ankles.Go over to one of the trainers and have them do it. Besides I've got to go over our first 15 plays from scrimmage."
Hell,that was telling him..But I bet Vince Lombardi could have wrapped an ankle or two if he was still around.


Vince Lombardi