BoxRec

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑31 May 2023, 03:51 Two Revolutionaries

When the famous west coast entrepreneur and boxing promoter Jack Curley approached heavyweight champion Jack Johnson in 1915 about a proposed defense of his title against the White Hope ,Jess Willard,Curley was thinking of having the affair take place in Ciudad Juarez,Mexico. The bankroll was to be provided by the Mexican revolutionary ,Pancho Villa- 100 thousand dollars in gold bars. But there was a problem.

In 1915 the Mexican Revolution was still going great guns. Venustiano Carranza was the president of the republic,though hanging by a string, and his forces led by his brilliant general Alvaro Obregon were engaged in a hammer and tong slugfest with Villa's Division Of The North in northern Mexico. Carranza, when hearing of the proposed fight, told Johnson that if he set foot foot anywhere on Mexican soil he'd be immediately arrested and handed over pronto to U.S. authorities.

There was also the threat of Johnson getting caught in a hail of lead in some crossfire or maybe kidnapped by Villa and held for ransom.Ciudad Juarez was right across the line from El Paso,Texas.It didn't take Curley and Johnson long to decide to put the fight in another venue and in another country.

Johnson was tired of globetrotting to avoid going to jail on his Mann Act conviction and wanted to return to U.S. soil.His mother was ill and was asking for him.Johnson believed he'd get a retrial and be forgiven in a sense and he could then continue with his old lifestyle of doing what he wanted to do when he felt like it.But it didn't work out that way. He lost his title to Willard in Havana(he said it was part of the bargain but then again Jack was known to stretch the truth)He didn't get back in time to be with his mother when she passed nor did he get a second look from the U.S. government when he finally turned himself in after crossing the border into San Diego and giving himself up. He was immediately whisked away to Leavenworth to serve a year in the stir. But the warden took a liking to the ex champ(he was the gov of the state of Nevada when Johnson fought Jeff) and put him in charge of an exercise program where Johnson spent most of his time boxing exhibitions with imported heavyweight lugs.In eight months Jack was back out on the street commingling back to his old Bon vivant ways sans the heavyweight championship. No one wanted to see that again.

Pancho Villa on the other hand didn't fare as well. When he and his Dorados finally had had enough of ducking bullets he was granted, by the interim president De La Huerta, a ranch and a pension where he could take his wives and kids and 50 of his most loyal men to start a fresh life. The ranch was in the state of Durango where Villa was raised .He named the property Canutillo.He was getting along peacefully for the most part taking an interest in farming and cattle raising.But the government always kept an eye on him. One day he decided to take himself and seven of his pals to Parral,a town south of his ranch ,to celebrate a friend's wedding.Villa also was going to spend quality time to see his girlfriend, Manuela, who was running his hotel in town.One morning ,as Villa and his compadres riding in Pancho's big Dodge,they stopped at the railroad tracks before proceeding. Assassins opened up with a fusillade of lead killing all inside the car.Villa was practically cut in half.

Pancho Villa and Jack Johnson almost crossed paths.You could say they threw the mold away when they made those two guys.They were similar in tone. They never looked over their shoulders and second guessed themselves.They did what their instincts dictated, and though they came up from the bottom they always believed that beyond the stars was within their grasps.


Jack Johnson


Pancho Villa laid out in the hotel across the street from where he was shot

Do you still feel comfortable hanging out in Mexico? Word is the place, including the regions abutting the US border, have become increasingly dangerous over the past ten or 20 years.

Joson wrote: ↑04 Jun 2023, 11:51

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑31 May 2023, 03:51 Two Revolutionaries

When the famous west coast entrepreneur and boxing promoter Jack Curley approached heavyweight champion Jack Johnson in 1915 about a proposed defense of his title against the White Hope ,Jess Willard,Curley was thinking of having the affair take place in Ciudad Juarez,Mexico. The bankroll was to be provided by the Mexican revolutionary ,Pancho Villa- 100 thousand dollars in gold bars. But there was a problem.

In 1915 the Mexican Revolution was still going great guns. Venustiano Carranza was the president of the republic,though hanging by a string, and his forces led by his brilliant general Alvaro Obregon were engaged in a hammer and tong slugfest with Villa's Division Of The North in northern Mexico. Carranza, when hearing of the proposed fight, told Johnson that if he set foot foot anywhere on Mexican soil he'd be immediately arrested and handed over pronto to U.S. authorities.

There was also the threat of Johnson getting caught in a hail of lead in some crossfire or maybe kidnapped by Villa and held for ransom.Ciudad Juarez was right across the line from El Paso,Texas.It didn't take Curley and Johnson long to decide to put the fight in another venue and in another country.

Johnson was tired of globetrotting to avoid going to jail on his Mann Act conviction and wanted to return to U.S. soil.His mother was ill and was asking for him.Johnson believed he'd get a retrial and be forgiven in a sense and he could then continue with his old lifestyle of doing what he wanted to do when he felt like it.But it didn't work out that way. He lost his title to Willard in Havana(he said it was part of the bargain but then again Jack was known to stretch the truth)He didn't get back in time to be with his mother when she passed nor did he get a second look from the U.S. government when he finally turned himself in after crossing the border into San Diego and giving himself up. He was immediately whisked away to Leavenworth to serve a year in the stir. But the warden took a liking to the ex champ(he was the gov of the state of Nevada when Johnson fought Jeff) and put him in charge of an exercise program where Johnson spent most of his time boxing exhibitions with imported heavyweight lugs.In eight months Jack was back out on the street commingling back to his old Bon vivant ways sans the heavyweight championship. No one wanted to see that again.

Pancho Villa on the other hand didn't fare as well. When he and his Dorados finally had had enough of ducking bullets he was granted, by the interim president De La Huerta, a ranch and a pension where he could take his wives and kids and 50 of his most loyal men to start a fresh life. The ranch was in the state of Durango where Villa was raised .He named the property Canutillo.He was getting along peacefully for the most part taking an interest in farming and cattle raising.But the government always kept an eye on him. One day he decided to take himself and seven of his pals to Parral,a town south of his ranch ,to celebrate a friend's wedding.Villa also was going to spend quality time to see his girlfriend, Manuela, who was running his hotel in town.One morning ,as Villa and his compadres riding in Pancho's big Dodge,they stopped at the railroad tracks before proceeding. Assassins opened up with a fusillade of lead killing all inside the car.Villa was practically cut in half.

Pancho Villa and Jack Johnson almost crossed paths.You could say they threw the mold away when they made those two guys.They were similar in tone. They never looked over their shoulders and second guessed themselves.They did what their instincts dictated, and though they came up from the bottom they always believed that beyond the stars was within their grasps.


Jack Johnson


Pancho Villa laid out in the hotel across the street from where he was shot

Do you still feel comfortable hanging out in Mexico? Word is the place, including the regions abutting the US border, have become increasingly dangerous over the past ten or 20 years.

I get asked this all the time.It's usually by people that don't go down there. But by this time I feel like a native.I worry more about if I'm going to fall over dead from a stroke.

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑04 Jun 2023, 12:49

Joson wrote: ↑04 Jun 2023, 11:51

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑31 May 2023, 03:51 Two Revolutionaries

When the famous west coast entrepreneur and boxing promoter Jack Curley approached heavyweight champion Jack Johnson in 1915 about a proposed defense of his title against the White Hope ,Jess Willard,Curley was thinking of having the affair take place in Ciudad Juarez,Mexico. The bankroll was to be provided by the Mexican revolutionary ,Pancho Villa- 100 thousand dollars in gold bars. But there was a problem.

In 1915 the Mexican Revolution was still going great guns. Venustiano Carranza was the president of the republic,though hanging by a string, and his forces led by his brilliant general Alvaro Obregon were engaged in a hammer and tong slugfest with Villa's Division Of The North in northern Mexico. Carranza, when hearing of the proposed fight, told Johnson that if he set foot foot anywhere on Mexican soil he'd be immediately arrested and handed over pronto to U.S. authorities.

There was also the threat of Johnson getting caught in a hail of lead in some crossfire or maybe kidnapped by Villa and held for ransom.Ciudad Juarez was right across the line from El Paso,Texas.It didn't take Curley and Johnson long to decide to put the fight in another venue and in another country.

Johnson was tired of globetrotting to avoid going to jail on his Mann Act conviction and wanted to return to U.S. soil.His mother was ill and was asking for him.Johnson believed he'd get a retrial and be forgiven in a sense and he could then continue with his old lifestyle of doing what he wanted to do when he felt like it.But it didn't work out that way. He lost his title to Willard in Havana(he said it was part of the bargain but then again Jack was known to stretch the truth)He didn't get back in time to be with his mother when she passed nor did he get a second look from the U.S. government when he finally turned himself in after crossing the border into San Diego and giving himself up. He was immediately whisked away to Leavenworth to serve a year in the stir. But the warden took a liking to the ex champ(he was the gov of the state of Nevada when Johnson fought Jeff) and put him in charge of an exercise program where Johnson spent most of his time boxing exhibitions with imported heavyweight lugs.In eight months Jack was back out on the street commingling back to his old Bon vivant ways sans the heavyweight championship. No one wanted to see that again.

Pancho Villa on the other hand didn't fare as well. When he and his Dorados finally had had enough of ducking bullets he was granted, by the interim president De La Huerta, a ranch and a pension where he could take his wives and kids and 50 of his most loyal men to start a fresh life. The ranch was in the state of Durango where Villa was raised .He named the property Canutillo.He was getting along peacefully for the most part taking an interest in farming and cattle raising.But the government always kept an eye on him. One day he decided to take himself and seven of his pals to Parral,a town south of his ranch ,to celebrate a friend's wedding.Villa also was going to spend quality time to see his girlfriend, Manuela, who was running his hotel in town.One morning ,as Villa and his compadres riding in Pancho's big Dodge,they stopped at the railroad tracks before proceeding. Assassins opened up with a fusillade of lead killing all inside the car.Villa was practically cut in half.

Pancho Villa and Jack Johnson almost crossed paths.You could say they threw the mold away when they made those two guys.They were similar in tone. They never looked over their shoulders and second guessed themselves.They did what their instincts dictated, and though they came up from the bottom they always believed that beyond the stars was within their grasps.


Jack Johnson


Pancho Villa laid out in the hotel across the street from where he was shot

Do you still feel comfortable hanging out in Mexico? Word is the place, including the regions abutting the US border, have become increasingly dangerous over the past ten or 20 years.

I get asked this all the time.It's usually by people that don't go down there. But by this time I feel like a native.I worry more about if I'm going to fall over dead from a stroke.

I've never been there, but have always wanted to visit. I'd like to arrange a situation where I spend a month at a Mexican hostel, two or three times per year. Just to get a feel for the place, and to check out the Mexican boxing scene.

I've never been there, but have always wanted to visit. I'd like to arrange a situation where I spend a month at a Mexican hostel, two or three times per year. Just to get a feel for the place, and to check out the Mexican boxing scene.
[/quote]

I've never heard of a Mexican hostel.I wouldn't stay in a flea bag hotel by myself being an Anglo.There is a Mexican boxing scene but not like it used to be.Weekly fight cards are a thing of the past.Tijuana used to be red hot but today there's just about nothing.And what's left is pretty bad. The kids down there today would rather hook up with a cartel than sweat it out in a gym.Then if they do show a sign of making it they move, or at least fight in the U.S. So much for the Mexican boxing scene.

Brave ,Courageous,And Bold

When Wyatt Earp finally put his pistol back into his holster he looked back on his life and said he had two regrets.One was the Gunfight At The OK Corral. The second rue was the time he referred the first fight between Bob Fitzsimmons nd Tom Sharkey.

I'll cut to the chase to the fight.Earp's shootout at The OK Corral is a story for another forum and my typing finger ain't up to the task right now.

When Jim Corbett beat the Great John L. Sullivan, to inaugurate the modern era of boxing, he didn't exactly take on all comers. After a defense against Charlie Mitchell,Gentleman Jim didn't put his title on the line legitimately for over three years.The public was getting antsy. So was Bob Fitzsimmons. All Corbet had to say about the matter was to shout insults in Ruby Robert's direction and go back to saying his lines on the stage. That was the big thing back then-a non thespian celebrity getting paid to perform in a play or sing a ditty in a theater.Well John Q. Public had had just about enough.

The powers to be decided to take matters into their own hands by staging a fight with Fitsimmons(the number one pug in the eyee of the fans) against the big sailor who had gone the distance with Corbett earlier,Tom Sharkey.They advertised the bout as for the World's Heavyweight Championship even though Corbett was quoting Shakespeare in front of standing room only crowds.

The fight was to be held at The Mechanics Pavilion in San Francisco.FItz was the big favorite at the start.But this match was loaded with glitches-salary arguments,time and place,but most of all who was gonna' be the third man in the ring. After a long tug of war Fitsimmons people relented with going with Wyatt Earp.

Earp was no stranger to reffing fights.He had had 60 or so experiences but they were of the bare knuckle ilk.But the primary worry coming from Fitz was could Earp be trusted.

People know of Earp as a lawman but he didn't wear a badge much during his lifetime.In fact he was never really a marshal,only a deputy.He worked a year in Wichita ,Kansas bashing drunks over the head with his shootin' iron but his main weapon was his two fists.He never killed any varmints in Wichita.He then moved to Dodge City and was a deputy there for a couple years but only managed to carve one notch in his gun, Some drunken cowboy was shot off his horse by Wyatt as he was hurrahing the town.The wound got infected and he died a month later. Later Earp found himself in Tombstone,AZ and it was there that The Gunfight At The OK Corral didn't turn out to be OK for Ike Clanton and his gang. But that's another story.

So now we have Earp as the referee.Like i said there was a lot of anxiety prior. Just before fight time the betting odds were heavy on Fitsimmons side suddenly shifted over to favor Sharkey. Something was up.The city constable thought it might be a good idea to frisk Earp before he stepped into the ring.Sure enough Wyatt was fixed.He had a revolver hidden in his jacket(I must have forgot to leave it at home)

At the opening bell Fitz was tearing into Sharkey and had him bouncing off the ropes.It would just be a matter of time before The Sailor would drop his anchor. In the eigth round both men got in close and were banging away. Fitz went upstairs and when Tom put his gloves up Fitzsimmons clobbered him with is trademark Solar Plexus punch.Sharkey went down with a thud and immediately Earp stepped in and grabbed Sharkey's glove and announced him the victor on a DQ.There was an immediate uproar. Earp swore Fitzsimmon's punch was below the belt and that he had made the right call.

A doctor was brought into Tom's dressing room.He examined The Sailor and said that The Sailor's family jewels were the color of the deep blue sea evident from a low blow. But there was no one from the outside who witnessed this examination.

There was a court inquiry and all bets were on hold.After weeks of testimony the judge said the circumstantial evidence was not enough for an overturn,He ruled in favor of Earp and now the wagers could be collected.

Years later one of Sharkey's handlers said that Earp was approached by gamblers with 25 hundred in cold cash to see to it that Sharkey would come out smellin' like roses.The first time Fitz went downstairs Sharkey would flop and Earp would make the all.BIW:that so called doctor wasn't a saw bones

Wyatt Earp went down in history as being one of the toughest hombres in the West. He was glorified as a a man with a ten gallon silver shining cowboy hat.That may have been true but Earp at heart was a gambler. He never worked a 9 to 5 job in his life. He owned saloons,race horses,tried to strike gold where he thought he could find it,operated whorehouses ,and played more hands of Keno than any man on earth.And was also known to deal from the bottom of the deck at times




Wyatt Earp may have been brave,courageous, and bold but I wouldn't play cards with him.



Tom Sharkey

So What Do You Know?

It was once suggested to me that I should write a book about Jose Napoles because I write about him so much on the forum and he's my favorite fighter.

I've only spoken to Jose Napoles once and that was that time i tracked him down in Ciudad Juarez where he was living on that backstreet in that poor neighborhood and he was sitting out front of the house he was renting smoking a cigar.The cabdriver drove me there after me and the cabdriver asked around where he lived. The first day I tried t find him with the same cabdriver we came up dry.

I talked to Napoles a couple of hours.I didn't have anything really planned to say to him. i could tell right off that he had the dementia creeping in.One thing he said is that he had gone back to Cuba last year to visit his mother. i knew then that anything I had penetrating to say to him would fruitless.

I saw Napoles fight two times in person.One time in Tijuana before he came up to the states to win the title from Cokes.He fought a no name fighter Herbie lee in the bullring and had fun with him. I saw him train one day in TJ at the gym that was between the jail on 8th Street that they called "Calle Ocho" and the fire station.I saw i fight again at The Forum in LA against Hedgemon Lewis.It was kind of a lousy fight because Lewis stayed away from him mostly.

After Napoles had hung 'em up I saw him with his Latino Band at a club on Revolution Street called The Rancho Grande..The place was crowded.His wife at that time was the singer, She was pretty good.A fight broke out, I don't know what about, but that's typical when you go to something like that.

So that's what I know about Jose Napoles. If I wanted to write a bio about the guy I'd have to ask people who had personal contact with him-family,friends,wives,boxing people- but then I'd be getting their take on Naploes and there'd be some that liked him and didn't.I could compile all that but i wouldn't have any personal feeling.Just what they had to say.it would be like reading some guy's biography of Abraham Lincoln. He had to get all his information second hand. But what else is there to do?I'm not so much against that but if I had run with someone for a long period of time I'd feel easier about writing about him,.

Now I could write volumes about the times I grew up on the Southwest Side of Chicago as a kid with all those greaseball kids and hanging out with all those lowlifes at the beach in San Diego and then all my experiences going to Tijuana in all those bars and other parts of Mexico doing similar ,but who wants to read about that?There's those fighters I came in contact with in San Diego.Of course there was the two months I spent helping Archie Moore out from time to time at his boys club after I got off from the school I worked at. We had some conversations about jazz music mostly.

But a biography? Like i said it would be second hand information and then I'd have to give my personal slant on it. And he better hope I liked the guy.I'll stick to the forum to get it off my chest.


A brief encounter

Hi Roger: Have you ever met Ruben Navarro ? Does he ever show up at the Hall's induction ceremony ?

This I can tell you for sure.Jose Napoles loved Mexico. When he won the title he had himself a Mexican wife and the president Ordaz, for the first time in Mexican history a president intervened to get a foreigner Mexican citizenship through their state department. I think Jose was more Cuban than Mexican,at least in heart.

.

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑05 Jun 2023, 11:58
Now I could write volumes about the times I grew up on the Southwest Side of Chicago as a kid with all those greaseball kids and hanging out with all those lowlifes at the beach in San Diego and then all my experiences going to Tijuana in all those bars and other parts of Mexico doing similar ,but who wants to read about that?There's those fighters I came in contact with in San Diego.Of course there was the two months I spent helping Archie Moore out from time to time at his boys club after I got off from the school I worked at. We had some conversations about jazz music mostly.

A you a big jazz fan? Sophisticated about the mid-20th century greats?

I'm trying to expand my jazz appreciation horizons. I'm looking for stuff that strongly resembles this:

Herbie Hancock
Takin' Off (1962)

Duke Jordan
Les Liasons Dangereuses (1962)

I don't know how to describe this sound. Don't know the music vernacular. But I want more.

Joson wrote: ↑05 Jun 2023, 19:59

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑05 Jun 2023, 11:58
Now I could write volumes about the times I grew up on the Southwest Side of Chicago as a kid with all those greaseball kids and hanging out with all those lowlifes at the beach in San Diego and then all my experiences going to Tijuana in all those bars and other parts of Mexico doing similar ,but who wants to read about that?There's those fighters I came in contact with in San Diego.Of course there was the two months I spent helping Archie Moore out from time to time at his boys club after I got off from the school I worked at. We had some conversations about jazz music mostly.

A you a big jazz fan? Sophisticated about the mid-20th century greats?

I'm trying to expand my jazz appreciation horizons. I'm looking for stuff that strongly resembles this:

Herbie Hancock
Takin' Off (1962)

Duke Jordan
Les Liasons Dangereuses (1962)

I don't know how to describe this sound. Don't know the music vernacular. But I want more.

That's a lot of territory But i you're talking Duke Jordan and Herbie Hancock They were influenced by the Bop musicians-Parker,Gillespie ,Monk etc. The live recordings are the best for jazz. The musicians will tell you that.Here's a live recording in 1950 recorded at a joint called The Hula Hut on Sunset Boulevard.Wardell Gray,Clark Terry,Dexter Gordon ,and Sonny Criss on horns in that order. Everyone is gassed.

And if yo like the piano Art Tatum was the instrument's gift from God

Pointing To The Hills

When I said that Jose Napoles was living in that a place in that tired neighborhood in Ciudad Juarez on that little street in the back he wasn't paying the rent. Jose Sulaiman was fronting him they say around 300 dollars a month.I'm not sure how much that was in pesos back in 2014 but the rent was probably a lot less.

Napoles seemed always to be taken care of.When he was inducted into the IBHOF on the first ballot it was either Sulaiman or the billionaire Carlos Slim that made sure that Jose had a nice new pair of clothes to show up in and all expenses paid to Canastota.

When I saw him he said he still had his gym in the Colonia Roma section of Ciudad Juarez. I went there first with the cab- driver who said that Napoles also lived around the corner. The cabdriver said that he got to know Napoles when he had his bar and he and Napoles would shoot pool.But when we got to the the gym it was closed,had a padlock on it. The building it was in was kind of decrepit-paint peeling off the walls,the linoleum floor chipping off, The place smelled of mold.There was a nicked up wooden desk with some gal sitting there with one of those old metal typewriters in front of her.I asked her if she could open the door and let me look inside the gym.She said she couldn't.She made it sound like it wasn't Naples' gym anymore.She was nice about it and I didn't press it further.

We asked if she knew where Napoles lived and she said to ask around outside. Last she knew it was close by. When me and the cabdriver walked outside we started asking around but no one knew except this one guy who was working on his truck in street.
"Oh,you mean Manteca?,he said laughing(the Mexican word for 'lard' "?)"He used to walk up and down the street smoking a cigar.He doesn't live here anymore",he continued still chuckling.
Well,me and the cabdriver gave up but he said that we could try again tomorrow.

We went back to the gym and there was a kid outside sitting on a bicycle.He looked like he was around 14,15 years old. We asked him about where Napoles lived and he said he knew.The kid gave the cabdriver the directions and we were off in his cab.The kid didn't want to go.

It wasn't that far away from the gym where Napoles was living.He was sitting outside his place as big as life smoking a cigar. Me and the cabdriver got out.Though the cabdriver used to play pool with him he didn't know much about his boxing career except that he was a champ once.Napoles waved and kept puffing on the cigar.He would wave at anyone who walked by.No one waved back.It wasn't out of rudeness I think.They just seemed to have their minds on something else.

It was funny.It seemed like Napoles was expecting us.He wasn't taken aback by our intrusion. The first words out of his mouth moved me.
"You see those hills out there,"he said pointing with the cigar in his hand at the hills silhouetted in back of the city."I used to run on those hills everyday.I wanted to be the champion of the world."


Jose puffing away on his Cuban puro

THe poster on the wall outside of Jose Napoles' gym

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑06 Jun 2023, 11:29
When I saw him he said he still had his gym in the Colonia Roma section of Ciudad Juarez. I went there first with the cab- driver who said that Napoles also lived around the corner. The cabdriver said that he got to know Napoles when he had his bar and he and Napoles would shoot pool.But when we got to the the gym it was closed,had a padlock on it. The building it was in was kind of decrepit-paint peeling off the walls,the linoleum floor chipping off, The place smelled of mold.There was a nicked up wooden desk with some gal sitting there with one of those old metal typewriters in front of her.I asked her if she could open the door and let me look inside the gym.She said she couldn't.She made it sound like it wasn't Naples' gym anymore.She was nice about it and I didn't press it further.

I assume your trip wasn't too, too many years ago. Conditions you describe are similar to today in Ciudad Juarez? Or at least not much more degraded?

You mention cab-drivers.

I would like to check the place out for a few days. How much extra cash should I bring to buy off a cab-driver for a day or two, so he's my fixer (even though I'm a tourist, not a journalist).

I'll bet you had to do that yourself.

Joson wrote: ↑06 Jun 2023, 17:02

dagosd2000 wrote: ↑06 Jun 2023, 11:29
When I saw him he said he still had his gym in the Colonia Roma section of Ciudad Juarez. I went there first with the cab- driver who said that Napoles also lived around the corner. The cabdriver said that he got to know Napoles when he had his bar and he and Napoles would shoot pool.But when we got to the the gym it was closed,had a padlock on it. The building it was in was kind of decrepit-paint peeling off the walls,the linoleum floor chipping off, The place smelled of mold.There was a nicked up wooden desk with some gal sitting there with one of those old metal typewriters in front of her.I asked her if she could open the door and let me look inside the gym.She said she couldn't.She made it sound like it wasn't Naples' gym anymore.She was nice about it and I didn't press it further.

I assume your trip wasn't too, too many years ago. Conditions you describe are similar to today in Ciudad Juarez? Or at least not much more degraded?

You mention cab-drivers.

I would like to check the place out for a few days. How much extra cash should I bring to buy off a cab-driver for a day or two, so he's my fixer (even though I'm a tourist, not a journalist).

I'll bet you had to do that yourself.

In 2014 he drove me around for half a day for 20 dollars. Ciudad Juarez is kind of an empty city. .El Paso though across the line doesn't offer much employment for the Mexicans that live in Ciudad Juarez. And most of the migrants that come up from the south and other countries around the world wind up at the fence at Ciudad Juarez. It's a mess.The crossing at San Ysidro(into San Diego) is the busiest international crossing in the world that's because San Diego has a lot of jobs that employs Mexicans that live in TJ(60 thousand automobiles daily and 20 thousand pedestrians)Julio Cesar Chavez lives in Tijuana.Erik Morales has a gym there.Antonio Margarito ,Jibaro Perez,Travieso Arce,Jackie Nava all live in TJ.I could have drive my car into Ciudad Juarez but I didn't know my way around.When I go to TJ I drive.


Erik Morales' gym in the Zona Norte

The taxista who drove me around Ciudad Juarez that day posing with Jose Napoles. I've forgotten the fellas' name. If I dig back in the thread when I first wrote about my encounter I knew his name. Nice guy. Had a wife and three kids. Believe it or not at the end of the day I asked him what it cost. He asked me how much.I gave him 20 dollars.He seemed satisfied with that. .

When The Going Gets Tough You Get A Kick In The Head

I don't know if it's Spanish thing or a Mexican trait but since it's a race of both bloods it might be inherent to both. What I'm saying is that if you get to be top dog in Mexico you better not trip yourself up because they're just waiting to pounce on you.

I've seen it happen to so many Mexican fighters. I remember when Ricardo Moreno was going great guns knocking everybody out.Then he got his shot at the featherweight title against Kid Bassey up in LA in front of a crowd that was all for their carnal.I don't know what happened to him.Maybe the pressure got to him and he froze. Bassey dumped Pajarito in 3 rounds and Moreno could never right himself after that.Davey Moore KO'd him in the first round later.Shortly after Moreno returned to Mexico to post a string of wins over some cab drivers but when he returned to the big time in the States he fell back on hard times.It only took Raul Rojas a combined 5 rounds in two fights to finally say adios to Moreno.The aficianados by that time couldn't see any reason to cheer for him.

Battling Torres was another KO artist who got his opportunity against Carlos Ortiz for the lightweight title.He was getting picked apart by Ortiz until Ortiz decided to end it in the 10th round. Torres never got back on track again. I remember that mega championship event at Dodger Stadium (the night Davey Moore got killed ).Torres fought Roberto Cruz for the super lightweight title. The fight didn't last a round with Torres headed to the locker room for an early shower. Again the aficiandos had plenty to make fun of.

I recently told you of the time I saw Pipino Cuevas fight his last fight against Lupe Aquino in Tijuana. Here was a guy who looked like he just got out of the hospital ward.Aquino sent him back there when it was over. As he was departing the ring the aficiandos were using him for target practice throwing anything they could pick off the floor .

And then there was the send off for Ruben Olivares at the Coliseo in Mexico City.I was there for that one too. Instead of the "soft touch"caving in to Ruben in front of the mayor,Senorita Mexico,and the mariachis the "set up" smoked the legend knocking him out.The aficianados didn't like their faith betrayed so to speak and let Rockin' Ruben hear it as he licked his wounds.

For an aside Christopher Columbus returned to Spain after his third trip to the New World they put him in irons.It was no more an act of jealousy.

So if you're a Latino and a success you're damned if you and damned if you don't. They'll find something to tear you down for.Just ask any ex president of Mexico. Or you can read my posts like the one I just wrote.


Ruben Olivares

The Lookalike

That school I worked at in Tijuana,CETYs,where I coached American football that was back in 1988, was an eye opener for me.That was the first time i was immersed in what what you'd call the Mexican aristocracy.My wife's family was poor.And the neighborhood in TJ where my grandkids grew up,Canon Jhonson, was also below the watermark so to speak, so when I got the job at CETYs I got a different perspective.

The school seemed kind of grown up compared to the regular government schools.CETYs was a private school It was founded by a guy who owned the largest chain of supermarkets in Baja Cilifornia,Calimax.The students dressed real smart.No grubby lookers walking around.They all drove late model cars.They lived in the few upscale neighborhoods around town and their parents owned businesses in Tijuana and some in the United States. There was no separation between student and teacher, and even clerical and custodial. There was no ":faculty" lounge or restrooms. Everybody co mingled .The teachers at lunch would play chess or cards with the students in the cafeteria.They smoked cigarettes and called each other by their last names. There was no grafitti.The campus was kept clean..No gangs.No cholos. It seemed like the atmosphere was more like a university.

Sometimes before practice I'd have coffee with some of the coaches at a little spot down the hill from the school on the Boulevard. The place was called Christies.One afternoon before practice I was sitting at a table with two of my coaches sipping coffee when something caught my eye.Across from us at a table was a man also drinking coffee sitting by himself. He looked exactly like Ruben Olivares. It was a remarkable resemblance.But after studying him for awhile I knew it wasn't Olivares because his body structure wasn't a match.But the face was a clone. I turned to one of the coaches.He was a scrawny, wiry guy with a pocked marked face and a sparky disposition.
"See that guy across from us?"I said tapping the coach's shoulder,"Doesn't he look like Ruben Olivares?"
The scrawny coach looked a little startled.He stretched across the table and squinted at the guy I was asking him about.
"No,"he replied with a smirk."I bet this guy can at least read and write."
I was taken aback by his comment.The other coach sitting beside him, who was much bigger and fatter and wearing a knit shirt that was a size too small, laughed.
"That guy can probably count to ten without using his fingers,chuckled the fat coach."
I was at a loss of what to say.I knew where they stood with Olivares.I picked up the check and we went back to the school to get ready for practice.

While I was in the coaching office gathering my things to take out to the field the phone rang. It was the younger sister of the scrawny coach.She was a student at CETYs.Her name was Dora but she like to be called Dory.
"My car won't start,"she whined."I need someone to come over and give me a ride."
I told her we were just about to go ut to practice and that she could take the Calafia, which is is a one of the many small public buses that comb though the colonias.
"I won't get into one of those things and sit with those dirty, smelly people,"she hot back.
I could hear her slam down the phone.Her brother then walked in.
"Your sister just called and needs a ride to school.Her car won't start."
"Did you tell her to take the Calafia."
"I did,She said she wouldn't ride with those people ."
"You know my sister thinks she's better than everyone else,"he remarked."I don't know where she gets that from?"
The scrawny coach then picked up his things and we walked out to practice.


Ruben Olivares

As Told To

I think about it all the time;writing a biograohy of a fighter,or someone else. I'm lazy at times,but that's not my excuse for not doing it. Like I said before I don't know anyone that famous. Most most biographers never knew their subjects or not at all.They have to dig,and that's a lot of work grant you,but in the end they have to find people who knew the guy they're writing about.The the author quotes them and those words wind up being the pearls of wisdom.The authors also rely on written accounts from news articles and they're also included in the pages. To me the writer is on the outside looking in.

Jake La Motta didn't write Raging Bull though his name is on the cover.The tape recorder was on when he told his story to his childhood pal ,Peter Savage,who also was a screenwriter. A boxing biography usually comes out as the main character's story "as told to..."I figure that's Ok but what sometimes bother's me is that these scribblers who have the tape recorder on,ghost writers and biographers,share the accolades too much. They get to feel they're in the fratenity.It makes me wince they get inducted into a Hall Of Fame when they never got into the ring.

For instance awhile back Dick Enberg,who did his first TV sports gig as a broadcaster on boxing from the Olympic auditorium, was inducted into the West Coast Boxing Hall Of Fame. He was in that category the "other." In short it is something beside the actual fighting. Enberg went on to say that he had been inducted into Cooperstown,the baseball Hall Of Fame. He added that Johnny Bench came up to him and said,"Well Dick you finally made it." I'm sure when Enberg went around afterwards he'd say,"I'm in the Baseball Of Fame as an announcer." The clarification is a pertinent.

Or how about when they hand out World Series rings and everyone gets one from the bat boy to the owner of the team. Their rings might be the same as the players but if they go on he auction block they buyers want o know if it's a real players ring or one that was on the finger of the secretaries.

Then there was the time Sylvester Stallone got voted into the Interntional Boxing Hall Of Fame. There he is,an actor,being inducted with all those fighters.Yeah,there were others who never laced on a glove too but all those punches Rocky threw were faked.

But actors and writers have their own institutions for recognition-The Academy Awards and the Pulitzer Prize for example. Maxie Rosenbloom never won an Oscar. Oscar.Muhammad Ali will never get the Nobel Prize for any of his poems.

I'm re reading an anthology of interviews with people that knew the great jazz musician Charlie Parker.The inteviews were compiled by Rob Reisner the jazz impresario.That cuts to the chase and eliminates any feeling a biographer may have one way or another about his subject.

Then there's the fiction writer.He just makes stuff up but if his story is a good one and his style locks you in then they make a movie of it. Sylvester Stallone wrote the "Rocky" screenplay. But he got into the IBHOF because of his acting not his writing.

Hemingway is my favorite fiction writer about boxing.He earned the Nobel Prize for literature for The Old Man And The Sea. I don't think that will get him into The International Boxing Hall Of Fame though.


Ernest Hemingway


Sylvester Stallone in the fraternity

Papa's Bag Wasn't New

After reading what I had to say yesterday about Ernest Hemingway being my favorite fiction writer of fighters you might be scratching your head thinking what did he write regarding the sweet science. There three stories,all short,where he alluded to three fighters that he held in esteem and represented them in characters in his writings. The short stories are Fifty Grand,The Battler,and The Light Of The World.

First of all let me say that Hemingway's best stuff is found in his short stories.Not all of them.To tell the truth most of his short stories seem rushed.But when he hit the mark he scored the KO. I don't want to belabor this post by trying to describe his style or his symbolism,and what it meant to be a man;the grace under pressure,the dying with dignity. To tell the truth there was something wrong with the guy. But I guess all "great" artists have their quirks and phobias.Besides, trying to describe a story or a song or a painting is impossible. You have to read,hear or see it by your lonesome.

In the story Fifty Grand the main character ,Jack Brennan who is going to defend his title is a resemblance of Jack Britton,.In The Battler the old ex pug hobo is supposed to be Ad Wolgast.In The Light At The End Of The World the whores are talking about the late Stanley Ketchel.

Hemingway said that a stranger can write more convincingly about something than someone who was there. That's when fiction has taken over.It's the world we live in.People believe the hype.They watch the news and they're fed the hype. But grudgingly things are starting to change.Makes me think that The Garden Of Eden was hype.But then everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die.

Bobby Kennedy said that one day he woke up and realized that the world he was living in wasn't the real world. Takes a lot to see things for what they are.


Hemingway with the gloves on.He didn't write bout other sports,just boxing.It was more important to be able to take it with dignity than to dish it out.That was easy.


Jack Britton.My favorite work of boxing fiction is Hemingway's Fifty Grand

Who's Your Teacher?

It's hard to figure where a trainer sits in when it comes to a fighter. I saw Ali in town training for Kenny Norton.Dundee had arrived for the winddown.While Ali was sparring I didn't see Angelo hanging on the ring ropes studying his man. There was no verbal communication.It didn't appear that Dundee was the chief second. He didn't say much. Ali did all the talking and that was yakking aimed to entertain the fans who came to see him workout. But I know they left they were dissapointed.They wanted to see Ali float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.Instead Ali let his sparing partners pound on him.I'm thinking that in back of Dundee's mind he didn't want Ali to do that.So who's giving orders?

And who taught Ali the ABC's of the art anyway? Was it one man in particular or did he pick it up on his own.Joe Martin, who was the cop that ran the police gym in Louisville and was Cassius' first trainer, gave a lot of lip service that he was the man who taught the 12 year old kid how to box.But Ali said that wasn't so.Fred Stoner ,the the black trainer who had his own gym in Louiville,was credited by Ali that that's where he got his primary boxing knowledge.

Then there's the story of Angelo Dundee blowing into Louisville with his first world champ Willie Pastrano in tow and inviting the young Clay to spar a little with the champ. Cassius more than held his own but the word was that Clay was impressed the way Pastrano moved his feet.It was something that rubbed off on the kid?

And then Clay finally hooked up with Angelo at his brother's 5 th Street Gym in Miami. All those fresh Cuban fighters were electric,.Luis Rodriguez,Jose Legra-they had those moves before The Lip but borrowing is a form of flattery.

But the bottom line is I don't care what kind of fancy credentials a trainer has on his resume. He ain't gonna' make chicken salad out of what comes out of the bird's ass.If the fighter doesn't have the goods the trainer is just a towel boy.


Willie Pastrano

The Indian In The Apple

In the 50's through mid 60's New York and all its boxing venues was still the center of the world of boxing. Madison Square Garden and its Friday night attractions were watched on TV religiously. The make up of the fighters was catholic-all breeds of cat. One fighter however broke the mold in the sense that he was born in a dusty desert pueblo called San Luis Rio Colorado in the sand of Northern Baja California.His name was Gaspar Ortega.

They nicknamed him "Indio" because of his native blood and how he looked like a bronze skinned Apache warrior..He began fighting in Mexico but made the grade plying his trade back east fighting in the big time against the cream of the top.Since Friday nights was the time to listen to the Gillette blue blades song that kicked off the fights from the Mecca, Madison Square Garden,the fighter from Apache territory was a familiar face on the tube.

Ortega's manager,Nick Corby, kept Ortega active.Between matches at MSG Indio would cross back to the smoke filled little arenas were he got his start in the desert to stay sharp and pick up a paycheck. But then he'd hop back on the plane and he'd again become that TV celebrity so to speak fighting contenders like Federico Thompson,Benny Paret,Rudell Stitch,Florentino Fernandez,Emile Griffith,and Carmen Basilio. I was waiting for him to be a guest on that Gotham panel show What's My Line.There was a scribe that even wrote a book, Friday Night Fighter:Gaspar "Indio" Ortega And The Golden Age Of Television Boxing. His name was right up there with Geronimo's.

I knew "Indio" a little .I'd see him at the World Boxing Hall Of Fame bashes out on the coast.He'd attend with his wife and friend the great Carlos Ortiz and his better half.It was easy to corner the amiable guy. I'd be there with my wife,Maria who's as Mexican as can be-born on the ranch on top of a mountain that had no electricity or running water and the family's mode of transportation was their reliable horse named Colorado in the middle of the republic in Michoacan. My wife and Gaspar could have passed as kinfolk.Maria was the icebreaker. But like I said Gaspar was such a friendly approachable sort there was nothing really to fear.

Most of the conversation was about Mexico and where Gaspar had lived in Tijuana like my wife for many years. I saw him once with my old man in Colonia Morelos at the park in TJ after me and my father got haircuts for a quarter.It was after Gaspar lost his only title shot-a drubbing at the hands of Griffith.He pulled up to the park in a lemon colored convertible with a blond on his arm.He hopped out of his car and bought everyone ice cream from the pushcart. It was like their hero had come home.I talked about that day to Indio and if he remembered, and he smiled.I guess he didn't want to go into details because his wife was sitting next to him.

Indio Ortga passed away not too long ago.He had lived in Connecticut.He became a local figure of the community.. His son ,Mike,was a well known referee. The family was on solid ground.But what I reget was that I never got down to picking his brain about how he was a regular attender at Stillman's Gym or how Whitey Bimstein worked his corner and what it was like to fight in boxing's legendary arena-The Garden.

I should have brought it up.But he wasn't a boaster.If you wanted to talk about the ranch or that time in the park in TJ he was fine with that.Imagine, being trained by Whitey Bimstein. :TU:


Two "good" Indians-Gaspar Ortega and my wife,Maria

The Second No Mas

In 1953 Ray Arcel decided to promote fights on the television on the ABC network on Saturday nights.This put him in competition with the International Boxing Club's menu of matches that were on the tube Monday and Friday nights.Arcel wasn't trying to muscle Jim Norris,the president of the IBC and his crew of underworld enforcers who had their claws in fighters,managers,,and ran the arenas back east.Ray just wanted to make a little scratch. But the crooks wanted all of the pie. Arcel couldn't see why their appetites were so famished.

Arcel started to get phone calls in the middle of the night warning him to cease and desist with his venture. Ray sluffed it off and went on to advance his dream. After things got rolling, one day as Arcel was leaving a synagogue in Boston and standing on a street corner, some guy snuck up on him and bashed him on the head with a pipe fracturing his skull.Arcel was in the hospital for 19 days.Early on the docs thought he might not survive.Well,that was enough to make Arcel throw in the towel.Not only did he quit his new enterprise but didn't want to train nor see another fighter in the ring. He didn't even follow the fights anymore. The episode soured the man.

Ray Arcel then became a sales rep for a steel manufacturer,a friend that he had met in the boxing world. Arcel was content.to live his Golden Years outside the game.But 18 years later he got a phone call from an old friend who had the corner on boxing in Panama..His name was Carlos Eleta.Eleta said a he had young charge that had the goods but the kid was giving his trainers a rough time in the discipline department. Would you come down and take a look at him.I'll bankroll your stay.

At first Arcel wanted to back off.But since Eleta was such a pal and he didn't have it him in him to say no,Ray decided that if he could take his wife down with him he'd at least get a vacation under his belt.

Well, when Ray first laid eyes upon this kid named Duran he swallowed hook ,line,and sinker. The symbiosis was almost innate. Roberto Duran saw Ray Arcel as a father and in turn Arcel became Bobby's daddy. The old guy's juices were flowing again.Arcel asked his longtime Stillman buddy Freddie Brown to do the day to day training.Ray would come in before the fight and do the fine tuning.

It must be remembered that as many great fighters Ray Arcel worked in the corner he never had the limelight as when he hooked up with Robrto Duran. It's often assumed that Arcel was Benny Leonard's main trainer, but that was when Leonard was making his comeback to fighting after losing his shirt in the stock market crash.Benny was just a shell of himself.Now in his retirement years Arcel had his greatest fighter.It was an unexpectant dream come true.

Next to Muhammad Ali, Roberto Duran was boxing's nova,a star that was seen by everybody. But then a new comet came streaking across the sky,an Olympic champion that was U.S. bred and was crowding Duran's place on the stage. It was just a matter of time that things would have to be settled.

After the first fight,Duran looked unbeatable. He not only hung Sugar Ray Leonard with his first loss but had him cringing.Duran had wiped the smile was off that handsome, cute face.

But when the rematch was signed Duran let himself get caught up on his own glory.He let himself go.He lived like a pig,and looked like one.Though he struggled to get down to weight and was in shape physically,mentally he was shot.With rival trainer Angelo Dundee in Leonard's corner he devised a plan to play hit and run with the aggressive Roberto. But it wasn't like Liston and Foreman who got tired chasing around Ali.Roberto was tried between the ears. He uttered the most infamous words ever spewed in a boxing ring,"No Mas."Ray Arcel was stunned.

He couldn't fathom why Duran did what he did.The "father" lost his "son" like he'd gone off to war and died in battle.Arcel never got over it.

When Ray Arcel died in !994 the boxing's names came out of the woodwork to be there for the last rites. Roberto Duran wasn't one of them. He had quit again.He wasn't the Prodigal Son. It was "No Mas" the second time around.



Roberto Duran

The Undefeated Can't Win

I'll stick with Rocky Marciano with this. He left the fight game with no losses. I know there's Mayweather but he gets the same rap. Even though Rocky never lost nor was tied there were flaws.These back and forth barroom arguments about who was the best I don't have much time for.

In the case of Marciano wanting to put him at the top of all time,it's the usual.He was too small.He never fought a worthy contender. He made his living fighting washed up former greats. Today's heavyweight are much bigger and taller,not to mentioned more skilled.They'd eat him alive.A "big " man back then didn't stack up to the big guys of today.And so on.

The arguers debate measurements and pedigrees like neurotic dog breeders. Go to the forum and it's topic after topic,page after page,of pseudo scientific genetics.It's like fighting analogies out of a test tube. Jump into that banter and you'll drown to death. I don't have time for it. They should put those paragraphs into a new category and title it -Mythical Logic.

Getting back to Marciano. Now before I do a quick wrap, just because I'm a dago I don't want to sound biased.So useyur imagination abut where I'd rank him. But this is pretty close to the truth as it gets. If Charley Goldman hadn't taken Marciano under his wing he probably would have tasted defeat and then he wouldn't get a call when it came to that question that makes me cringe-Who Was The Best?

Marciano was as crude a specimen as any who walked into a fight gym to begin his quest. But Goldman,a man of countless fights,and having trained multitudes of pugs, saw things in Marciano that he believed he could develop. Rocky had the power in his right hand. He was tough.And most of all, he had the passion. But being 24 years of age if he was to go to the top there couldn't be any lollygagging.

Later,Goldman said that Marciano was the easiest fighter he ever trained.He never second guessed him.He soaked everything in like a sponge.And he had it in his mind he could wup everyone. He was fearless.

Charley Goldman got lucky.And so did Marciano. Any other combination wouldn't have had the results like it did. If the arguers want to nitpick there's nothing I can do about that but not click on to their talk.



Charley Goldman

The Blind Leading The Blind

Take it from me.Your average high school football coach knows more about football than Vince Lombardi ever did.So where am I going? OK.They talk about today's athletes being better than the ones of the past,at least in the 20th century. For example there's no way those teams of yesteryear like the '27 Yankees,the Lombardi Packers,or the Boston Celtics of the 60's could match up with even the contenders in their respected leagues let alone the champions in today's world.Call it evolution on the physical end but even the old timers will concede the point.Today's athletes are better. But who should get the credit for this growth?To me it's simple-the coaching today is better. Except there's one sport that's gone south.Boxing is in reverse gear.

Without adequate trainers how van you have the progression like the other sports?Granted,I mentioned team sports, but the individual sports are also comprised of better athletes.

Boxing's demise started with television.Beginning in the 50's you could see big fights on the TV three nights a week. Why go down to your neighborhood arena when you sit in your easy chair in your living room and watch a fighter like Sugar Ray Robinson or Kid Gavilan instead of being entertained by the local prospect? That's when arenas started to go dark,the boxing gyms closed their doors,and the kid who thought of taking up the sweet science had nowhere to go.But also the trainer was left standing in the unemployment line.How can you have good fighters if there's no one to teach and them? That's the job of the trainer.

Back before the big war there were fight cards and fighters filing up arenas.Boxing gyms were as common as the corner candy store.There was no Little League baseball.Pop Warner Football didn't exist.If you went to the rec center the basketball floor was empty but the ring had kids waiting in line wanting spar.And the trainers were there to grab them.They were looking for that one hot prospect.

Trainers never made as much money nor basked in the limelight as the fighters and the managers not to mention the promoters. But the sport would have been nothing without the trainers..

What would Joe Louis have been without Jack Blackburn's guidance?Without Charley Goldman Rocky Marciano wouldn't have never won the title. I don't care how much natural ability a fighter has in the beginning he needs a mentior.He needs that trainer who not only teaches the fundamentals and the tricks of the trade but becomes a surrogate parent.

I admit that many black fighters were thrown to the wolves but but it wasn't because of a lack of ability.They just never got their shot.

Most fighters back in the day reached their potentials.Today, fighters don't reach their peaks like they ones before.Marciano for example was 100 percent developed by the time Charley Goldman was done with him,Today's champions I wonder. A 100 percent Marciano and a 50 percent Deontay Wilder.It's a waste.

When the Arcels,Goldmans,Blackburns,and Freddie Browns passed boxing's foundation showed cracks,In my era I saw Dundee ,Futch,Jackie McCoy,Emmanuel Stewart,and Gil Clancy.They're gone too. But those guys were in demand and knew their stuff.So were a lot of trainers we didn't see.Now it's a lot different.

I walk into what's left of a boxing gym(most f them are combinations of other martial arts)and I don't see the heads up bvoxing trsner.Oh,he''l show you something about boxing that he pulled out of thin air but it's a sham for the most part. These guys never were fighters.When this happens you don't get good fighters.

Today I see kids inside a ring at the gym left unattended.They don't wear a headgear.They don't have a mouthpiece.There's no one watching them spar.There's no teaching.It's nowhere land.

When you think of a trainer today you might offer Freddie Roach.(and he's on his last legs)Yeah,he had Pacquiao and he was a good one. But when I saw Manny come out of his corner in the 1st round against Mayweather and stand in the center of the ring trying to outbox Floyd I said to myself,"What's Roach thinking? His boy is going to lose this fight."

Boxing will never get its legs under it again without good trainers. The other sports are evolving.It's become complex. Like I said if Vince Lombardi was alive today he'd have to go back to school. He'd only have to go to a high school football clinic to pick up the new stuff.

As far as a trainers today it is the blind leading the blind.


Eddie Futch.He forgot more about boxing than the guys trying to teach fighters today