BoxRec

raylawpc wrote:I have to tell you, scrolling through this forum looking at pixs of Rick, Mando, Carlos, the Chicago Stadium, and then - SUDDENLY - there's Eva Mendes . . . its a real shock to the system.

As you know, my wife works with me in the office and, when I came upon that picture, I let out an involuntary 'WHOA!! MOMMA!! - WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!!" I had to do some pretty quick thinking when my wife called out from her office, "What happened?" . . .

My system don't shock anymore, to old...... ...

bennie wrote:

kikibalt wrote:
Jake & Vickie LaMotta

Jake is trying to enjoy breakfast, and his bimbo wife is showing him pics of the St Valentine's Day Massacre he suffered the night before against Sugar Ray!

"Oh, look honey, Ray knocked the [expletive deleted] out of you in that one. . ."

raylawpc wrote:

bennie wrote:

kikibalt wrote:
Jake & Vickie LaMotta

Jake is trying to enjoy breakfast, and his bimbo wife is showing him pics of the St Valentine's Day Massacre he suffered the night before against Sugar Ray!

"Oh, look honey, Ray knocked the [expletive deleted] out of you in that one. . ."

Something tells me she didn't say stuff like that too often.

Vicki LaMotta

Birth: Jan. 23, 1930
Death: Jan. 25, 2005

Subject of the film "Raging Bull" and Cosmetic Initiator. Born Beverly "Vicki" Thailer in the Bronx, New York. She met boxer husband Jake LaMotta at a community pool and they married while she was still a teenager. Their turbulent often abusive relationship was depicted in the 1980 Martin Scorsese film "Raging Bull". Vicki was potrayed by then 17-year old Actress Cathy Moriarty and earned her an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress. Over the years the film has been ranked by critics as one of the Greatest Films In History. The film generated great publicity for Vicki who posed for Playboy in November 1981 and proved that she was still a beauty at age 51. Four years later came a self-named successful cosmetics company that marketed what she called "the 60-second facelift." She moved back to New York City from North Miami Beach, where she had lived with her second husband Tony Foster, to lend her name to a cosmetics line and make commercials and personal appearances on local television and at fight arenas. In 1992, after divorcing from Foster she returned to South Florida, eventually moving into Port de Mer, where she lived with two cats. And to the end she remained friends with her first ex-husband Jake LaMotta. LaMotta, 83, who was in Manhattan at a 25th anniversary screening of Raging Bull, mentioned her death to The New York Times. "I spoke to her a few months ago," he said. "I used to speak to her a lot, but as time went by we would only speak on special occasions. But we made up a long time ago." Vicki died after spending a month at a hospital where she was recovering from open-heart surgery.

Sugar’s sweet sorrow.
Vicki LaMotta cradles her husband, boxer Jake LaMotta, after he was knocked out by Sugar Ray Robinson. LaMotta lost the world middleweight title in the Chicago Stadium fight on February 14, 1951. (Photo by Bob Kotalik.)

Vickie LaMotta
Detroit, Michigan, June 1949

The Bronx Bull, Jake LaMotta, receives a congratulatory smooch from his loving wife Vicki
after his successful Middleweight title defense against Laurent Dauthille (1950)

kikibalt wrote:
Sugar’s sweet sorrow.
Vicki LaMotta cradles her husband, boxer Jake LaMotta, after he was knocked out by Sugar Ray Robinson. LaMotta lost the world middleweight title in the Chicago Stadium fight on February 14, 1951. (Photo by Bob Kotalik.)

Jake LaMotta
"They call me an animal. I'm not an animal."
Naw "goombadil",you're not an animal.We kid with ya'. You know how to poke fun at yourself. Your boys are gone. One from cancer,the other in a plane crash. Your wife passed. I hope someone is in your corner. You've always been a pretty tough guy.You hold up pretty good. Hard to knock you down.

The last scene of Raging Bull with Jake in front of the mirror in his dressing room. It's 1964. He's waiting to do his act on stage. He starts to shadow box moving in front of the mirror. He's getting psyched up.
"I'm the champ ,I'm the champ."

We know.

Sugar Ray Robinson

"The Sugar Man"

Wesley Ramey & Manual Villa
10 December 1932

kikibalt wrote:
The Bronx Bull, Jake LaMotta, receives a congratulatory smooch from his loving wife Vicki
after his successful Middleweight title defense against Laurent Dauthille (1950)

A few years ago there's Jake gettin' interviewed on TV. All of a sudden he looks up .
"Rocky,Sugar Ray,how you guys doin' up der'? You guys must like it up der' cause yas' never come down for a visit. Pretty soon I'll be up der wit' yas."

Go ahead put your order in. Let me guess. Your mother's gonna' have waitn' for ya' a nice sausage and pepper sandwich with maybe some egg plant parmasain on the side? Am I close/

kikibalt wrote:
"The Sugar Man"

A young Cassius Clay wanted Ray to be his trainer. Ray Robinson,a trainer? I don't think so. Nothing against being a trainer,but when the fighter wins,they're not raising the hand and taking a picture the fighter's trainer. Ray,I guess,didn't want to play second fiddle to any fighter. Even Muhammad Ali.

Just about everytime i cross the border i like to get Chinese food. Sometimes i eat Mexican,but i get a lot of that at home. Probably more Chinese restaurants in Tijuana than San Diego. I'd bet on that. It's funny though because the Chinese down there speak Spanish and ,of course, Chinese. I like to order my food in those places in Spanish just to hear a Chinese speak Spanish.

If you don't know the story,the Chinese came over to help build the railroads in the U.S. and Mexico. Southern Pacific hired a lot of Chinese. Many of them were discrimminated against here and Mexico. But they stayed and wound up opening mostly restaurants and laundries. In Mexico, it was restaurants. I'd say Chinese food is the most popular foreign food in Mexico. More than Italian. Not real fancy places. The basic Cantonese stuff. Chow Mein and Chop Suey.

One day I'm with a bunch of fighters at the CREA Gym that's located in the Rio. It's part of a state facility I think. They have a soccer field,tennis courts,and a swimming pool ,all open for the public. Not state of the art,but it will suffice considering on how much of the money that should go for public services goes into the hands of the politicians.

I'm with Jibaro's brother in law and another kid who's playing American football for me, but also is a professional fighter. Since he was going to school,his nickname was "El Estudiante".The aficianados didn't like him much because he was going to school. That's not macho when you're a fighter. This kid was pretty good. Clean,in shape, and undefeated. He was in Jibaro's stable.

Well we're all dyin' of starvation,so we make up our minds to find a place to do some damage at the dinner table. The choice. Chinese. The guys pile in my van and we work our way through Tijuana traffic to downtown. I park in the lot so no one messes with my car,and then head towards the King Wah Chinese Buffet. The place is pretty full inside. The food is good so the King Wah has a solid clientele. We're piling stuff on so high on our plates that our arms are aching. I'm chompin' away with the rest when I remembered something. In the U.S. every big city has a Chinese neighborhood. Now there's a lot of Chinese in TJ,but I've never seen their community. No ghetto. Nothing. The Chinese waiter comes by to fill up the water glasses so I pose my question.
"Amigo,donde esta el barrio de tu gente? El barrio de los Chinos?
The rest of the guys stopped eating and looked at me kind of funny.
"No tenemos," answers the waiter, and he walked away.
I turned to "El Estudiante" and asked him if there was a particular reason for that. He said in Mexico,at least in Tijuana,they would never let Chinese group together to live. That would consolodate their stregnth. A show of power.
"No way," the young fighter said to me."We want to keep them apart. Together they might start thinking big.Then we'd have to kick their asses."

kikibalt wrote:Vicki LaMotta

Birth: Jan. 23, 1930
Death: Jan. 25, 2005

Subject of the film "Raging Bull" and Cosmetic Initiator. Born Beverly "Vicki" Thailer in the Bronx, New York. She met boxer husband Jake LaMotta at a community pool and they married while she was still a teenager. Their turbulent often abusive relationship was depicted in the 1980 Martin Scorsese film "Raging Bull". Vicki was potrayed by then 17-year old Actress Cathy Moriarty and earned her an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress. Over the years the film has been ranked by critics as one of the Greatest Films In History. The film generated great publicity for Vicki who posed for Playboy in November 1981 and proved that she was still a beauty at age 51. Four years later came a self-named successful cosmetics company that marketed what she called "the 60-second facelift." She moved back to New York City from North Miami Beach, where she had lived with her second husband Tony Foster, to lend her name to a cosmetics line and make commercials and personal appearances on local television and at fight arenas. In 1992, after divorcing from Foster she returned to South Florida, eventually moving into Port de Mer, where she lived with two cats. And to the end she remained friends with her first ex-husband Jake LaMotta. LaMotta, 83, who was in Manhattan at a 25th anniversary screening of Raging Bull, mentioned her death to The New York Times. "I spoke to her a few months ago," he said. "I used to speak to her a lot, but as time went by we would only speak on special occasions. But we made up a long time ago." Vicki died after spending a month at a hospital where she was recovering from open-heart surgery.

What a beautuiful woman. Her layout in Playboy Magazine, taken in her 50's, was stunning. She was a natural beauty, by any standard, and a champ like LaMotta deserved nothing less.

-Rick

dagosd2000 wrote:Just about everytime i cross the border i like to get Chinese food. Sometimes i eat Mexican,but i get a lot of that at home. Probably more Chinese restaurants in Tijuana than San Diego. I'd bet on that. It's funny though because the Chinese down there speak Spanish and ,of course, Chinese. I like to order my food in those places in Spanish just to hear a Chinese speak Spanish.

If you don't know the story,the Chinese came over to help build the railroads in the U.S. and Mexico. Southern Pacific hired a lot of Chinese. Many of them were discrimminated against here and Mexico. But they stayed and wound up opening mostly restaurants and laundries. In Mexico, it was restaurants. I'd say Chinese food is the most popular foreign food in Mexico. More than Italian. Not real fancy places. The basic Cantonese stuff. Chow Mein and Chop Suey.

One day I'm with a bunch of fighters at the CREA Gym that's located in the Rio. It's part of a state facility I think. They have a soccer field,tennis courts,and a swimming pool ,all open for the public. Not state of the art,but it will suffice considering on how much of the money that should go for public services goes into the hands of the politicians.

I'm with Jibaro's brother in law and another kid who's playing American football for me, but also is a professional fighter. Since he was going to school,his nickname was "El Estudiante".The aficianados didn't like him much because he was going to school. That's not macho when you're a fighter. This kid was pretty good. Clean,in shape, and undefeated. He was in Jibaro's stable.

Well we're all dyin' of starvation,so we make up our minds to find a place to do some damage at the dinner table. The choice. Chinese. The guys pile in my van and we work our way through Tijuana traffic to downtown. I park in the lot so no one messes with my car,and then head towards the King Wah Chinese Buffet. The place is pretty full inside. The food is good so the King Wah has a solid clientele. We're piling stuff on so high on our plates that our arms are aching. I'm chompin' away with the rest when I remembered something. In the U.S. every big city has a Chinese neighborhood. Now there's a lot of Chinese in TJ,but I've never seen their community. No ghetto. Nothing. The Chinese waiter comes by to fill up the water glasses so I pose my question.
"Amigo,donde esta el barrio de tu gente? El barrio de los Chinos?
The rest of the guys stopped eating and looked at me kind of funny.
"No tenemos," answers the waiter, and he walked away.
I turned to "El Estudiante" and asked him if there was a particular reason for that. He said in Mexico,at least in Tijuana,they would never let Chinese group together to live. That would consolodate their stregnth. A show of power.
"No way," the young fighter said to me."We want to keep them apart. Together they might start thinking big.Then we'd have to kick their asses."

Great story!

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:
"The Sugar Man"

A young Cassius Clay wanted Ray to be his trainer. Ray Robinson,a trainer? I don't think so. Nothing against being a trainer,but when the fighter wins,they're not raising the hand and taking a picture the fighter's trainer. Ray,I guess,didn't want to play second fiddle to any fighter. Even Muhammad Ali.

Can't blame him. No disrespect to Cassius Clay (Ali) intended, he had great charactor, heart, charisma, etc. However, Sugar Ray Robinson was, well, Sugar Ray Robinson. What more need be said?

-Rick

I wonder if a guy like Robinson would have been a good trainer.

I recall a number of years ago, when Ozzie Smith was active, the Cardinals at Spring training had a number of young infielders in for evaluation. A reporter mentioned to Whitey Herzog that he was lucky to have Smith in camp to work with the youngsters. Herzog replied, "Are you kidding? I don't let him near those guys. He'd ruin them." I suspect Robinson would have been the same to young fighters. Robinson did so many things by instinct and pure talent. How could he pass that along to a young guy? Would he have the patience to deal with a young fellow who couldn't do the things Robinson did without thinking?

I recall reading somewhere that Einstein was a research professor at Princeton - they couldn't let him in the classroom because he was so far above his students that he couldn't relate to them as a teacher. He left the poor students completely confused.

kikibalt wrote:
Sugar Ray Robinson

I'll never forget the day I walked into the Main Street Gym, early one weekday afternoon. I was 17, had just skipped school to catch an early workout and spar with a pro I worked with occasionally. When I arrived, the gym was virtually empty. As I walked up the stairway leading up to the gym, I heard the sound of a fighter skipping rope, and the empty gym echoed the wap-wap-wap of the rope brushing over the gym floor. Howie Steindler was in his office, smoking a cigar, cussing out somebody over the phone. Steindler looked up as I passed by his office door, I waved, he nodded, and I walked thru the door to the gym floor.

There were two men in the gym. The first I saw was Duke Holloway, sitting on the bleachers against the wall near the entrance, smoking a cigar. The other, his back to me as he skipped rope, was wearing a plastic sweat suit. This guy could jump rope, he made a dance of it, it was artful, like nothing I'd seen before. A moment later the bell rang, ending the round, and the fighter, pouring sweat turned on the gas for ten seconds, before dropping the rope. He even let the rope go with style, and it seemed to coil like a snake when it hit the creeky old gym floor. The man turned with a big grin on his face, sweat dripping off his nose. It took me all of half a second to recognize the face. It was the great Sugar Ray Robinson. The man regarded by most "experts" as the greatest boxer to ever step into a ring.

Duke stood up slowly, went over to Robinson and wiped a towel over Sugar Ray's face. Robinson noticed me standing, open mouthed and in awe, just staring at him. He approched me, actually on his way to the locker room, and when he passed he smiled and nodded. Suddenly, I realized I was being acknowledged by the greatest ever, and I think I said "Hi, Sugar Ray", or something like that.

A couple days later, I'd actually have a chance to speak with the great Sugar Ray Robinson, and he even gave me a couple pointers on how to throw a hook, as I pounded a heavy bag next to one that he had just folded with a hook, while again working out, four years after retiring from the ring.

This photo brought back a special memory. Thanks for posting it, Kiki!


-Rick Farris

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:Vicki LaMotta

Birth: Jan. 23, 1930
Death: Jan. 25, 2005

Subject of the film "Raging Bull" and Cosmetic Initiator. Born Beverly "Vicki" Thailer in the Bronx, New York. She met boxer husband Jake LaMotta at a community pool and they married while she was still a teenager. Their turbulent often abusive relationship was depicted in the 1980 Martin Scorsese film "Raging Bull". Vicki was potrayed by then 17-year old Actress Cathy Moriarty and earned her an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress. Over the years the film has been ranked by critics as one of the Greatest Films In History. The film generated great publicity for Vicki who posed for Playboy in November 1981 and proved that she was still a beauty at age 51. Four years later came a self-named successful cosmetics company that marketed what she called "the 60-second facelift." She moved back to New York City from North Miami Beach, where she had lived with her second husband Tony Foster, to lend her name to a cosmetics line and make commercials and personal appearances on local television and at fight arenas. In 1992, after divorcing from Foster she returned to South Florida, eventually moving into Port de Mer, where she lived with two cats. And to the end she remained friends with her first ex-husband Jake LaMotta. LaMotta, 83, who was in Manhattan at a 25th anniversary screening of Raging Bull, mentioned her death to The New York Times. "I spoke to her a few months ago," he said. "I used to speak to her a lot, but as time went by we would only speak on special occasions. But we made up a long time ago." Vicki died after spending a month at a hospital where she was recovering from open-heart surgery.

What a beautuiful woman. Her layout in Playboy Magazine, taken in her 50's, was stunning. She was a natural beauty, by any standard, and a champ like LaMotta deserved nothing less.

-Rick

Rick
I mentioned this once before. Vicky LaMotta and Edna Robinson were on a talk show with Bonecrusher Smith's young wife. This must have been around 25 years ago. Go figure this. We know that at times when Sugar and Jake would be upset with their wives,the girls became sparring partners. A busted lip. A black eye.Some loose teeth. After years of putting up with philandering and getting knocked around they left.

Well on this show Vicky and Edna are runnin' this by Mrs. Bonecrusher. A very pretty and modest girl. If memory serves me,I think The Bonecrusher graduated from college. He might have met his wife there. Anyway Mrs. Bonecrusher is getting nervous from listening to these two recall their former husbands chaotic treatment of them.. Edna and Vicky are getting more and more turned on as they tell of their husbands abuses.
"When being married to a fighter,they'll let you know who's boss,"said Vicky.
"That's right. And if you make a fuss,you'll get belted a good one,"said Edna full of excitement.
"Yes," a energized Vicky said. "I remember Jake letting me have it if I got him upset."
By this time the young bride is almost in tears.
"Oh don't worry honey,"said Edna. "That won't happen to you."
By now both Vicky and Edna had come down to Earth to see that they had upset the girl.

The point to all of this is that women who go for fighters,at least some of them,are turned on by the violence. Even if sometimes if it's at their expense. Fighting turns them on. It turns me on to think that it turns them on.

Amen.

kikibalt wrote:
Sugar’s sweet sorrow.
Vicki LaMotta cradles her husband, boxer Jake LaMotta, after he was knocked out by Sugar Ray Robinson. LaMotta lost the world middleweight title in the Chicago Stadium fight on February 14, 1951. (Photo by Bob Kotalik.)

Mrs LaMotta has one eye on the camera. Oh well.

kikibalt wrote:

The night Camacho lost his nerve.

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:
Sugar Ray Robinson

I'll never forget the day I walked into the Main Street Gym, early one weekday afternoon. I was 17, had just skipped school to catch an early workout and spar with a pro I worked with occasionally. When I arrived, the gym was virtually empty. As I walked up the stairway leading up to the gym, I heard the sound of a fighter skipping rope, and the empty gym echoed the wap-wap-wap of the rope brushing over the gym floor. Howie Steindler was in his office, smoking a cigar, cussing out somebody over the phone. Steindler looked up as I passed by his office door, I waved, he nodded, and I walked thru the door to the gym floor.

There were two men in the gym. The first I saw was Duke Holloway, sitting on the bleachers against the wall near the entrance, smoking a cigar. The other, his back to me as he skipped rope, was wearing a plastic sweat suit. This guy could jump rope, he made a dance of it, it was artful, like nothing I'd seen before. A moment later the bell rang, ending the round, and the fighter, pouring sweat turned on the gas for ten seconds, before dropping the rope. He even let the rope go with style, and it seemed to coil like a snake when it hit the creeky old gym floor. The man turned with a big grin on his face, sweat dripping off his nose. It took me all of half a second to recognize the face. It was the great Sugar Ray Robinson. The man regarded by most "experts" as the greatest boxer to ever step into a ring.

Duke stood up slowly, went over to Robinson and wiped a towel over Sugar Ray's face. Robinson noticed me standing, open mouthed and in awe, just staring at him. He approched me, actually on his way to the locker room, and when he passed he smiled and nodded. Suddenly, I realized I was being acknowledged by the greatest ever, and I think I said "Hi, Sugar Ray", or something like that.

A couple days later, I'd actually have a chance to speak with the great Sugar Ray Robinson, and he even gave me a couple pointers on how to throw a hook, as I pounded a heavy bag next to one that he had just folded with a hook, while again working out, four years after retiring from the ring.

This photo brought back a special memory. Thanks for posting it, Kiki!


-Rick Farris

NICE.