BoxRec

kikibalt wrote:

The way the old timers ran it by me at the Arizona was that Murphy when sober was one of the gentlest,modest guys around. Problem was he wasn't sober often. Had a grudge against Italians. The Irish and Italians were always fighting each other I remember when I was a little kid in Chicago. Add the fact that the cops were Irish and didn't shy away of practicing a swing or two on some of the dago kids' heads in the neighborhood didn't exactly improve relations. But I don't think it was a hate thing. The Irish and Italians are connected different. The italian kids with the slick black hair. Open collar shirt showing the chest hair. Walking that cock of the walk way like women would throw themsel;ves at them. Not all were that way. Marciano? Naw. oh he loved the ladies,but he was a man's man out of the ring. Not a pretty boy. He may have liked Frankie Valli,but he was the Rock. take my word,he had a lust for women and got more than all the Frankie Valli's put together.

So Earl Anderson is telling me one day that him and Murphy are back East in some posh joint. These two have assaulting the bar all afternoon. So who walks in? Marciano and his pals. Murphy sees him,goes over to his table and grabs his shirt. Good thing cooler heads prevailed. Wonder what Murphy had against Italians? Maybe he didn't like Frankie Valli's singing.

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

The way the old timers ran it by me at the Arizona was that Murphy when sober was one of the gentlest,modest guys around. Problem was he wasn't sober often. Had a grudge against Italians. The Irish and Italians were always fighting each other I remember when I was a little kid in Chicago. Add the fact that the cops were Irish and didn't shy away of practicing a swing or two on some of the dago kids' heads in the neighborhood didn't exactly improve relations. But I don't think it was a hate thing. The Irish and Italians are connected different. The italian kids with the slick black hair. Open collar shirt showing the chest hair. Walking that cock of the walk way like women would throw themsel;ves at them. Not all were that way. Marciano? Naw. oh he loved the ladies,but he was a man's man out of the ring. Not a pretty boy. He may have liked Frankie Valli,but he was the Rock. take my word,he had a lust for women and got more than all the Frankie Valli's put together.

So Earl Anderson is telling me one day that him and Murphy are back East in some posh joint. These two have assaulting the bar all afternoon. So who walks in? Marciano and his pals. Murphy sees him,goes over to his table and grabs his shirt. Good thing cooler heads prevailed. Wonder what Murphy had against Italians? Maybe he didn't like Frankie Valli's singing.

Your right about the Irish and Italians Dagos.
Fighting with each other all the time here in Chicago growing up.
But , like alot of things, that rivalry I believe may be a thing of the past.
I think it was just a matter of two nationalities/cultures who pride themselves on being tough.
And , dont forget, being Catholics, we spend alot of time together , social functions, Schools , Church,
Weddings, etc, etc. The eyeballing starts, rumors start, a girl dumps one for the other, next thing ya know theres a donnybrook.Some Irishmen , turn into Yeats when they drink . Most turn into "Irish "Bob Murphy.
Ive known a hundred Irish Bob Murphys .

Expug wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

The way the old timers ran it by me at the Arizona was that Murphy when sober was one of the gentlest,modest guys around. Problem was he wasn't sober often. Had a grudge against Italians. The Irish and Italians were always fighting each other I remember when I was a little kid in Chicago. Add the fact that the cops were Irish and didn't shy away of practicing a swing or two on some of the dago kids' heads in the neighborhood didn't exactly improve relations. But I don't think it was a hate thing. The Irish and Italians are connected different. The italian kids with the slick black hair. Open collar shirt showing the chest hair. Walking that cock of the walk way like women would throw themsel;ves at them. Not all were that way. Marciano? Naw. oh he loved the ladies,but he was a man's man out of the ring. Not a pretty boy. He may have liked Frankie Valli,but he was the Rock. take my word,he had a lust for women and got more than all the Frankie Valli's put together.

So Earl Anderson is telling me one day that him and Murphy are back East in some posh joint. These two have assaulting the bar all afternoon. So who walks in? Marciano and his pals. Murphy sees him,goes over to his table and grabs his shirt. Good thing cooler heads prevailed. Wonder what Murphy had against Italians? Maybe he didn't like Frankie Valli's singing.

Your right about the Irish and Italians Dagos.
Fighting with each other all the time here in Chicago growing up.
But , like alot of things, that rivalry I believe may be a thing of the past.
I think it was just a matter of two nationalities/cultures who pride themselves on being tough.
And , dont forget, being Catholics, we spend alot of time together , social functions, Schools , Church,
Weddings, etc, etc. The eyeballing starts, rumors start, a girl dumps one for the other, next thing ya know theres a donnybrook.Some Irishmen , turn into Yeats when they drink . Most turn into "Irish "Bob Murphy.
Ive known a hundred Irish Bob Murphys .

You're right about it being a thing in the past. I think what did it was inter marrying. I knew a lot of Italian girls who went for Irish boys. Figured Irish men had more fidelity. Wouldn't jump the fence.However when these Italian gals tied the knot,they found themselves with more freedom . That's another reason. Italian men,I hate to say,scare their wives. Even by not saying anything. When I went to Italy,I saw this trait with the Italian men. They thought nothing of blowing their stacks at women in front of everyone. Here's a great example of the Italian code with men. I put it up before.

In DeSica's movie "The Bicycle Thief",the Italian father lands a job after the war putting up paper sign posters. But he needs a bicycle to get around. Well he finally gets one,but it gets stolen on the first day on the job. The father is upset and determined to find the bicycle and the thief. He takes his young son Bruno with him to look.

They walk all over Rome with no luck. Finally the father says to his son,"Let's get something to eat."

They go to a restaurant. The father doesn't have much money to order something nice,so they settle on oil and vinegar and tomatos.Mozzarella on the side with bread. Very basic and traditional. Italian name is "Capresi". The father then says to his son that he has enough money to buy a bottle of wine. The son,Bruno,says,"Papa,mother will get mad if she knows I drank wine."
The father laughs and says to his son,"Bruno,we're a couple of men. We can do whatever we want."

I'm tellin' ya' Irish I'm crying as I write this to you.

I like that story Dagos.
The way it would go down for the Irish guy would be,( and Ive seen this),
The Turkey would be in the Tavern with half a snoot full yucking it up with his pals when the bartender gives him the phone.The wife is on the line.She is pissed and giving it to him good".Where the hell are you?You said you were coming home right after work and not drinkin with those freakin bums you call friends".
Well , after a little while of this, the Mick starts screamin into the phone at her . Really puttin on a show for the boys. He dont take no shit from the old lady.
Problem is, hes screamin at a dial tone.

Benny,got one for you. I took the family on a side trip to London a few years back. We stayed at a nice hotel a half block down from St. Paul's. We had a great time. One day I'll get with you on what is English food besides fish and chips. Please educate me on this sometime.

Well here's the story. I really got off on going to the pubs. I found one about three blocks down from the hotel. The twisting brick paths that winded their way past stores and all the pubs. i guess after work you guys like to stop off and have a drink. Saw lots of people dressed in shirts and ties. Shedded the coats. Really a lively group. Many drinking outside,but you know all that.

I found a little place,a pub called the "Cock Pit." Small,intimate. Said it was built on an old site where they fought gamecocks. Nice mural on a wall of a Cock Pit. The same local people were in there every evening. The owner had his Scotty dog resting outside the door. Had to walk over him to get in. I liked the layout. Different size tables and chairs. Papers spread out to read. There was one little group that I liked to eaves drop on. An elderly English lady chaired the discussion. She could really go on. She commanded the attention of a few of the older gentlemen. She was harmless. She would always talk about her daughter. One evening she was talking about how her daughter had gone to the music conservatory and now had an audition with the London Philharmonic. I've always been strong on that music. I believe London has 6 major symphony orchestras. Amazing! Well I hope the old gal's daughter landed a chair.

The thing about those pubs is they shut down early. Around ten. Figure maybe people have to go to work the next day. One night I told the owner that I loved his place and if he would do me a favor and let me take his picture drawing an ale behind the bar.
"Why not you go behind the bar and I'll take your picture."
Man that floored me. Love that picture. Say Bennie ,every body in the Cock Pit had them red noses with all the veins that had exploded. Yeah,they liked that place.

One night before closing,I asked the owner if there were any pubs around that stayed open late. He told me there were places like that in Covent Garden. Well that was a little out of my range. So I decided i'd explore around the neighborhood.That area,the City,got dark fast when those pubs closed. But I was intrigued. Now my history of London areas like that I got from watching Basil Rathbone and Nigel Brice chase after Professor Moriarity.

i meandered through the narrow streets like I was in a dream. The streets were empty. At a corner I saw a little storefront. The sign on the window written in Old English read,"Ye Olde City Barber Shoppe." I peered through the window. A barber chair, old and beautifull. A clean neatly folded towel over an arm . The leather strop hung straight down. On the shelf, the different thick mugs with the barber brushes. A chrome dispenser that cotained shaving soap. . I wanted it to be cold and foggy outside,but London was experiencing a heat wave that summer. Oh well maybe Sherlock Holmes would tap me on the shoulder.

I stared and saw a picture.It looked like a painting on the wall behind the barber chair. At first it was hard to figure. Maybe it was Churchill or Lord Nelson. My eyes adjusted. I made out the image. My heart skipped. It was John Wayne wearing a cowboy hat.I turned on my heal .I wanted to get back to the hotel. The heat was suffocating me.

Expug wrote:I like that story Dagos.
The way it would go down for the Irish guy would be,( and Ive seen this),
The Turkey would be in the Tavern with half a snoot full yucking it up with his pals when the bartender gives him the phone.The wife is on the line.She is pissed and giving it to him good".Where the hell are you?You said you were coming home right after work and not drinkin with those freakin bums you call friends".
Well , after a little while of this, the Mick starts screamin into the phone at her . Really puttin on a show for the boys. He dont take no shit from the old lady.
Problem is, hes screamin at a dial tone.

Hey Pug

Remember that cartoon strip "Andy Capp?" Andy would always be sleeping on the couch with his face to the back of the sofa with his shoes off and just the socks left on. Everyday him and the wife at the pub with the half full glass of beer.

Hey buddy. I just thought of somethin'. This will make you laugh. One night when I was on vacation way down in Mexaco,I was driving through this terrible thunder storm. I got the radio on and the wiper blades on after burners.

Well I ain't getting nothing on the radio. I keep hitting the "scan" button and all it keeps doing is the numbers going around in a circle. Finally after a few minutes of nothing,it stops on a station. I could barely make it out,but it was music. Fading in and out and staticy. But it cleared a little. I swear, it was a band playing Irish Jigs. I burst out laughin'. I thought about you right away. How did you find me?

kikibalt wrote:

Guys . . . If you really love boxing history, read the fine print on this page. The real name of Jack Dempsey's manager, Jack "Doc" Kerns, was Leo McKernan! Now this may not be earth sahttering info, but to me, it's priceless! Thanks again Frank. This page contains names that are at the heart of boxing history!!!!!!!! Ray Robinson, Del Flanagan, etc. Of course, today we have Vlad Klitschko, the youngest of the "Lurch" brothers, and of course, the greatest light fighter ever, "Pretty Boy" Floyd Mayweather. Lucky for guys like Henry Armstrong that Mayweather wasn't around. After all, who the Hell was Henry Armstrong???? Just because he held three undisputed world titles when there were only eight weight classes, and defended the Welterweright title (while also holding the feather and lightweight title) eighteen times in less than two years (five times in a three week period in 1935), and also fought a lot of non-title bouts in all weight classes during his title reigns, and also beat the crap out of a middleweight champ (Ceferino Garcia) but given only a "draw" preventing him from holding half the world titles available (having already beaten Garcia in a welter title defense), and never weighing more than 132 lbs. for ANY of his welter title fights, and . . . oh well, what the Hell. He probably fought a bunch of prehistoric bums, right? I mean, in those days we didn't have guys like De La Hoya, or Margarito, or Cotto, or Prince Naseem Hamed. Speaking of the Prince, could you imagine Hamed facing Armstrong in a feather title fight? He'd ride into the ring on a magic carpet, and then leave the ring on a stretcher. And how would todays lightweight talents do if matched with a Enrique Bolanos? Well, let's face it, todays fighters are stronger and healthier. Their careers are backed by big budgets, which kinda makes up for smaller hearts, right? Today's guys have personal fitness trainers who control their diets, and kiss their asses, etc. Fighters today have internet managers, conditioning trainers, technique analysts, fitness chef's, and so many more advantages than the old guys who were to one dimensional to run from punches. You know, todays guys are too smart to learn how to stay in front of their opposition and slip and duck punches, they just get on their bike and run like a bitch. I think I better stop here, I wouldn't want to sound "prejudiced, or anything like that. Let's face it guys, we are not living in a real world when we think for a minute that today's guys aren't the best ever.

-Rick :(

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

Guys . . . If you really love boxing history, read the fine print on this page. The real name of Jack Dempsey's manager, Jack "Doc" Kerns, was Leo McKernan! Now this may not be earth sahttering info, but to me, it's priceless! Thanks again Frank. This page contains names that are at the heart of boxing history!!!!!!!! Ray Robinson, Del Flanagan, etc. Of course, today we have Vlad Klitschko, the youngest of the "Lurch" brothers, and of course, the greatest light fighter ever, "Pretty Boy" Floyd Mayweather. Lucky for guys like Henry Armstrong that Mayweather wasn't around. After all, who the Hell was Henry Armstrong???? Just because he held three undisputed world titles when there were only eight weight classes, and defended the Welterweright title (while also holding the feather and lightweight title) eighteen times in less than two years (five times in a three week period in 1935), and also fought a lot of non-title bouts in all weight classes during his title reigns, and also beat the crap out of a middleweight champ (Ceferino Garcia) but given only a "draw" preventing him from holding half the world titles available (having already beaten Garcia in a welter title defense), and never weighing more than 132 lbs. for ANY of his welter title fights, and . . . oh well, what the Hell. He probably fought a bunch of prehistoric bums, right? I mean, in those days we didn't have guys like De La Hoya, or Margarito, or Cotto, or Prince Naseem Hamed. Speaking of the Prince, could you imagine Hamed facing Armstrong in a feather title fight? He'd ride into the ring on a magic carpet, and then leave the ring on a stretcher. And how would todays lightweight talents do if matched with a Enrique Bolanos? Well, let's face it, todays fighters are stronger and healthier. Their careers are backed by big budgets, which kinda makes up for smaller hearts, right? Today's guys have personal fitness trainers who control their diets, and kiss their asses, etc. Fighters today have internet managers, conditioning trainers, technique analysts, fitness chef's, and so many more advantages than the old guys who were to one dimensional to run from punches. You know, todays guys are too smart to learn how to stay in front of their opposition and slip and duck punches, they just get on their bike and run like a bitch. I think I better stop here, I wouldn't want to sound "prejudiced, or anything like that. Let's face it guys, we are not living in a real world when we think for a minute that today's guys aren't the best ever.

-Rick :(

Rick
read you loud and clear. Was watching the replay of Moore and Marciano. In the Polo Grounds to hold more people.That was a big fight. There's Moore spending 50 grand to work the Rock to fight him. All the big shots in the Apple are there to see this. Christ, I was 6 years old at the time. But at the end I got to know Archie a little. Told you guys he waved me over to talk about jazz at a local Bar B Q joint here in San Diego. And I'm watching him fight Marciano in the Polo grounds last night.

There's a fella who owns a beer joint in National city. Bobby Rodriguez. Pretty laid up with heart disease. Told this before. Bobby told me when he was a kid ,he caught TB. They put him in a ward at the County Hospital. Said the Mongoose visited the kids on that ward and said after the Marciano fight he'd return to see how things were goin'. Well Bobby tells me all the kids on the ward were crying when Archie started to take his lumps from Rocky.They were down. But as the Old Man said,he came back to visit those kids the next day. Bobby said his face looked terrible,but Archie was just glad to see those sick kids. bobby told me that everyone's health got better.

Archie told me once he didn't like being disrespected by Clay before their fight. Ali was an Olympic Champ. A main eventer from the start. Even in that movie,Requiem For A Heavyweight. Where was Arch for all his years in the beginning? Fighting in tank towns for bum pay. Clay became the Champ in 22 fights. Moore? Still trying to fight a contender who didn't draw the color line. Finally beats Maxim when he's 39.

As you say, look at these guys today. How do they rate? Because if it was you and me Rick that had to pay to watch them fight ,they'd be like Archie was at the beginning. Fighting for peanuts against guys with names like Piano Mover Jones.

kikibalt wrote:

Jackie McCoy fought Dade twice in the 40's.

-Rick

dagosd2000 wrote:

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

Guys . . . If you really love boxing history, read the fine print on this page. The real name of Jack Dempsey's manager, Jack "Doc" Kerns, was Leo McKernan! Now this may not be earth sahttering info, but to me, it's priceless! Thanks again Frank. This page contains names that are at the heart of boxing history!!!!!!!! Ray Robinson, Del Flanagan, etc. Of course, today we have Vlad Klitschko, the youngest of the "Lurch" brothers, and of course, the greatest light fighter ever, "Pretty Boy" Floyd Mayweather. Lucky for guys like Henry Armstrong that Mayweather wasn't around. After all, who the Hell was Henry Armstrong???? Just because he held three undisputed world titles when there were only eight weight classes, and defended the Welterweright title (while also holding the feather and lightweight title) eighteen times in less than two years (five times in a three week period in 1935), and also fought a lot of non-title bouts in all weight classes during his title reigns, and also beat the crap out of a middleweight champ (Ceferino Garcia) but given only a "draw" preventing him from holding half the world titles available (having already beaten Garcia in a welter title defense), and never weighing more than 132 lbs. for ANY of his welter title fights, and . . . oh well, what the Hell. He probably fought a bunch of prehistoric bums, right? I mean, in those days we didn't have guys like De La Hoya, or Margarito, or Cotto, or Prince Naseem Hamed. Speaking of the Prince, could you imagine Hamed facing Armstrong in a feather title fight? He'd ride into the ring on a magic carpet, and then leave the ring on a stretcher. And how would todays lightweight talents do if matched with a Enrique Bolanos? Well, let's face it, todays fighters are stronger and healthier. Their careers are backed by big budgets, which kinda makes up for smaller hearts, right? Today's guys have personal fitness trainers who control their diets, and kiss their asses, etc. Fighters today have internet managers, conditioning trainers, technique analysts, fitness chef's, and so many more advantages than the old guys who were to one dimensional to run from punches. You know, todays guys are too smart to learn how to stay in front of their opposition and slip and duck punches, they just get on their bike and run like a bitch. I think I better stop here, I wouldn't want to sound "prejudiced, or anything like that. Let's face it guys, we are not living in a real world when we think for a minute that today's guys aren't the best ever.

-Rick :(

Rick
read you loud and clear. Was watching the replay of Moore and Marciano. In the Polo Grounds to hold more people.That was a big fight. There's Moore spending 50 grand to work the Rock to fight him. All the big shots in the Apple are there to see this. Christ, I was 6 years old at the time. But at the end I got to know Archie a little. Told you guys he waved me over to talk about jazz at a local Bar B Q joint here in San Diego. And I'm watching him fight Marciano in the Polo grounds last night.

There's a fella who owns a beer joint in National city. Bobby Rodriguez. Pretty laid up with heart disease. Told this before. Bobby told me when he was a kid ,he caught TB. They put him in a ward at the County Hospital. Said the Mongoose visited the kids on that ward and said after the Marciano fight he'd return to see how things were goin'. Well Bobby tells me all the kids on the ward were crying when Archie started to take his lumps from Rocky.They were down. But as the Old Man said,he came back to visit those kids the next day. Bobby said his face looked terrible,but Archie was just glad to see those sick kids. bobby told me that everyone's health got better.

Archie told me once he didn't like being disrespected by Clay before their fight. Ali was an Olympic Champ. A main eventer from the start. Even in that movie,Requiem For A Heavyweight. Where was Arch for all his years in the beginning? Fighting in tank towns for bum pay. Clay became the Champ in 22 fights. Moore? Still trying to fight a contender who didn't draw the color line. Finally beats Maxim when he's 39.

As you say, look at these guys today. How do they rate? Because if it was you and me Rick that had to pay to watch them fight ,they'd be like Archie was at the beginning. Fighting for peanuts against guys with names like Piano Mover Jones.

Roger, how lucky for you to have had that interaction with Archie Moore. You know, this guy KOed more opponents than any other boxer in history! I was introduced to him briefly, in 1995 at the Olympic. He was sitting next to Jackie McCoy, Don Chargin and Bennie Georgino in one of the last boxing matches ever held at the 18th & Grand arena. We didn't speak, I just shook his hand, and was honored to have had that opportunity. My dad and I had gone to the Olympic to watch Yori Boy Campas, and we stopped by to say "Hi" to Benny, Don and Jackie. Shortly afterwards, both Archie and Jackie were gone. He still looked good, Rog. He was wearing a multi-colored knit cap, looked sharp out of the eye. Hell, he was in his eighties then. Jackie, well, he looked tired. I had no idea he had cancer. He was also sufering from the death of his wife, Shirley, who had passed shortly beforehand. I enjoy your stories, and your memories of boxers that you crossed paths with. I also look forward to all of us getting together in November.

-Rick

dagosd2000 wrote:Benny,got one for you. I took the family on a side trip to London a few years back. We stayed at a nice hotel a half block down from St. Paul's. We had a great time. One day I'll get with you on what is English food besides fish and chips. Please educate me on this sometime.

Well here's the story. I really got off on going to the pubs. I found one about three blocks down from the hotel. The twisting brick paths that winded their way past stores and all the pubs. i guess after work you guys like to stop off and have a drink. Saw lots of people dressed in shirts and ties. Shedded the coats. Really a lively group. Many drinking outside,but you know all that.

I found a little place,a pub called the "Cock Pit." Small,intimate. Said it was built on an old site where they fought gamecocks. Nice mural on a wall of a Cock Pit. The same local people were in there every evening. The owner had his Scotty dog resting outside the door. Had to walk over him to get in. I liked the layout. Different size tables and chairs. Papers spread out to read. There was one little group that I liked to eaves drop on. An elderly English lady chaired the discussion. She could really go on. She commanded the attention of a few of the older gentlemen. She was harmless. She would always talk about her daughter. One evening she was talking about how her daughter had gone to the music conservatory and now had an audition with the London Philharmonic. I've always been strong on that music. I believe London has 6 major symphony orchestras. Amazing! Well I hope the old gal's daughter landed a chair.

The thing about those pubs is they shut down early. Around ten. Figure maybe people have to go to work the next day. One night I told the owner that I loved his place and if he would do me a favor and let me take his picture drawing an ale behind the bar.
"Why not you go behind the bar and I'll take your picture."
Man that floored me. Love that picture. Say Bennie ,every body in the Cock Pit had them red noses with all the veins that had exploded. Yeah,they liked that place.

One night before closing,I asked the owner if there were any pubs around that stayed open late. He told me there were places like that in Covent Garden. Well that was a little out of my range. So I decided i'd explore around the neighborhood.That area,the City,got dark fast when those pubs closed. But I was intrigued. Now my history of London areas like that I got from watching Basil Rathbone and Nigel Brice chase after Professor Moriarity.

i meandered through the narrow streets like I was in a dream. The streets were empty. At a corner I saw a little storefront. The sign on the window written in Old English read,"Ye Olde City Barber Shoppe." I peered through the window. A barber chair, old and beautifull. A clean neatly folded towel over an arm . The leather strop hung straight down. On the shelf, the different thick mugs with the barber brushes. A chrome dispenser that cotained shaving soap. . I wanted it to be cold and foggy outside,but London was experiencing a heat wave that summer. Oh well maybe Sherlock Holmes would tap me on the shoulder.

I stared and saw a picture.It looked like a painting on the wall behind the barber chair. At first it was hard to figure. Maybe it was Churchill or Lord Nelson. My eyes adjusted. I made out the image. My heart skipped. It was John Wayne wearing a cowboy hat.I turned on my heal .I wanted to get back to the hotel. The heat was suffocating me.

Basil Rathbone! You know, England doesn't even get that much fog, just a few mornings per year and the fog usually symbolizes a really nice day, once it lifts. I will say one thing about London in the city: the pubs are great and, yes, there are cracking little barber shops. Many men seem to go to the trendier salons where women with large mammary glands cut hair, but women never do a good job. In fact, I guarantee those same men make their way to a conventional barber's shop afterwards to allow a man to finish the job.

Expug wrote:I like that story Dagos.
The way it would go down for the Irish guy would be,( and Ive seen this),
The Turkey would be in the Tavern with half a snoot full yucking it up with his pals when the bartender gives him the phone.The wife is on the line.She is pissed and giving it to him good".Where the hell are you?You said you were coming home right after work and not drinkin with those freakin bums you call friends".
Well , after a little while of this, the Mick starts screamin into the phone at her . Really puttin on a show for the boys. He dont take no shit from the old lady.
Problem is, hes screamin at a dial tone.

This reminds me of the Chris Eubank story in Brighton when he swanned into a restuarant chatting loudly on his mobile phone - next thing, the phone started ringing.
Everyone burst out laughing.

Expug wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

The way the old timers ran it by me at the Arizona was that Murphy when sober was one of the gentlest,modest guys around. Problem was he wasn't sober often. Had a grudge against Italians. The Irish and Italians were always fighting each other I remember when I was a little kid in Chicago. Add the fact that the cops were Irish and didn't shy away of practicing a swing or two on some of the dago kids' heads in the neighborhood didn't exactly improve relations. But I don't think it was a hate thing. The Irish and Italians are connected different. The italian kids with the slick black hair. Open collar shirt showing the chest hair. Walking that cock of the walk way like women would throw themsel;ves at them. Not all were that way. Marciano? Naw. oh he loved the ladies,but he was a man's man out of the ring. Not a pretty boy. He may have liked Frankie Valli,but he was the Rock. take my word,he had a lust for women and got more than all the Frankie Valli's put together.

So Earl Anderson is telling me one day that him and Murphy are back East in some posh joint. These two have assaulting the bar all afternoon. So who walks in? Marciano and his pals. Murphy sees him,goes over to his table and grabs his shirt. Good thing cooler heads prevailed. Wonder what Murphy had against Italians? Maybe he didn't like Frankie Valli's singing.

Your right about the Irish and Italians Dagos.
Fighting with each other all the time here in Chicago growing up.
But , like alot of things, that rivalry I believe may be a thing of the past.
I think it was just a matter of two nationalities/cultures who pride themselves on being tough.
And , dont forget, being Catholics, we spend alot of time together , social functions, Schools , Church,
Weddings, etc, etc. The eyeballing starts, rumors start, a girl dumps one for the other, next thing ya know theres a donnybrook.Some Irishmen , turn into Yeats when they drink . Most turn into "Irish "Bob Murphy.
Ive known a hundred Irish Bob Murphys .

I swear, the Irish are nuts. Fiery.

Us Chicanos, when we drink and get a little drunk turn into lovers.
We leave the fighting to the women....

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

Guys . . . If you really love boxing history, read the fine print on this page. The real name of Jack Dempsey's manager, Jack "Doc" Kerns, was Leo McKernan! Now this may not be earth sahttering info, but to me, it's priceless! Thanks again Frank. This page contains names that are at the heart of boxing history!!!!!!!! Ray Robinson, Del Flanagan, etc. Of course, today we have Vlad Klitschko, the youngest of the "Lurch" brothers, and of course, the greatest light fighter ever, "Pretty Boy" Floyd Mayweather. Lucky for guys like Henry Armstrong that Mayweather wasn't around. After all, who the Hell was Henry Armstrong???? Just because he held three undisputed world titles when there were only eight weight classes, and defended the Welterweright title (while also holding the feather and lightweight title) eighteen times in less than two years (five times in a three week period in 1935), and also fought a lot of non-title bouts in all weight classes during his title reigns, and also beat the crap out of a middleweight champ (Ceferino Garcia) but given only a "draw" preventing him from holding half the world titles available (having already beaten Garcia in a welter title defense), and never weighing more than 132 lbs. for ANY of his welter title fights, and . . . oh well, what the Hell. He probably fought a bunch of prehistoric bums, right? I mean, in those days we didn't have guys like De La Hoya, or Margarito, or Cotto, or Prince Naseem Hamed. Speaking of the Prince, could you imagine Hamed facing Armstrong in a feather title fight? He'd ride into the ring on a magic carpet, and then leave the ring on a stretcher. And how would todays lightweight talents do if matched with a Enrique Bolanos? Well, let's face it, todays fighters are stronger and healthier. Their careers are backed by big budgets, which kinda makes up for smaller hearts, right? Today's guys have personal fitness trainers who control their diets, and kiss their asses, etc. Fighters today have internet managers, conditioning trainers, technique analysts, fitness chef's, and so many more advantages than the old guys who were to one dimensional to run from punches. You know, todays guys are too smart to learn how to stay in front of their opposition and slip and duck punches, they just get on their bike and run like a bitch. I think I better stop here, I wouldn't want to sound "prejudiced, or anything like that. Let's face it guys, we are not living in a real world when we think for a minute that today's guys aren't the best ever.

-Rick :(

Naz copied Chris Eubank's over-the-top ring entries, including the leap over the top rope, although he is undoubtedly a flash little git and not well liked. I have a funny story about Naz. Back in 1990, Naz must have been 14 or 15 and was already wiping the floor with kids in the amateurs. I was going to a show in Telford and, as I was parking the car, Brendan Ingle rolled up next to me with Chesterfield's Lee Fox, who was fighting on the show, and cocky little Naz. Anyway, we all kind of got out of the cars at the same time and I wished Lee Fox good luck - and Lee is someone Naz must have been destroying in the gym - and I could sense Naz was waiting for me to say something to him. There was just something about his attitude that flashed a warning with me, like he was offended that I was chatting to an honest little pro like Lee before him.
I deliberately avoided eye contact and walked off into the venue.

Rick
Just about everyone who grew up in South East San Diego when Archie was alive has a personal story to tell about him. He'd walk through the neighborhood. Shop and eat at the local spots. Get his hair cut ,I remember at Gary's Barber Shop, on Ocean View Boulevard. He was natural with everyone and that attitude was reciprocated by the community. Downtown, his stomping grounds would be Market Street where he'd go the Jewish Deli and eat breakfast. He liked roaming through the Army Surplus Stores near the waterfront. He blended in,he was casual,a gentleman,wise, and we miss him dearly.

kikibalt wrote:Us Chicanos, when we drink and get a little drunk turn into lovers.
We leave the fighting to the women....

Hey Frank
Think of all the Mexicans you know that drink. That's a whole lot of lovin' goin' on.

dagosd2000 wrote:

kikibalt wrote:Us Chicanos, when we drink and get a little drunk turn into lovers.
We leave the fighting to the women....

Hey Frank
Think of all the Mexicans you know that drink. That's a whole lot of lovin' goin' on.

Yes, and thats why we're call f#cking Mexicans.....