BoxRec

Alejando Lavorante vs Zora Folley

Where the hell is everybody?

[quote="kikibalt"][quote="bennie"]
As I write this, I do with a heavy heart.



I was aware of Tony's sccident, and his sentence. Today, I heard the facts. I have shed my share of tears in the past, and today, it's something that I rarely do, I guess we learn to block emotion, at least to the outside world. However, today, I can't stop crying, I'm crying like a bitch. Frank, let me say this, GOD BLESS TONY BALTAZAR, I respect him, regadless of his mistakes, God knows I have made mine.

I hope we have a chance to see Tony this June, at the next Calif. HOF banquet. I want to shake his hand. And I want to do a story, and for the record, a BOXING story- nothin else!

-Rick

with 11,337 and counting, viewings of this thread to this moment I would say that most folks who are dropping into this site are reading this thread. It's a record for this forum for the amount of time this thread has been up

. And most people will tell you that I'm not shy about speaking up, but to be honest there has been so much great content here that I have spent a lot of time just reading......and re reading. I'm sure there are many who are thankful for my respectful silence.....lol.

So don't take the occasional silence to mean no one his here, at any one time there are probably up to a half dozen people reading and taking in what has been written here. for every talker there are better than 10 readers.

Rick Farris wrote:

kikibalt wrote:

bennie wrote: As I write this, I do with a heavy heart.



I was aware of Tony's sccident, and his sentence. Today, I heard the facts. I have shed my share of tears in the past, and today, it's something that I rarely do, I guess we learn to block emotion, at least to the outside world. However, today, I can't stop crying, I'm crying like a bitch. Frank, let me say this, GOD BLESS TONY BALTAZAR, I respect him, regadless of his mistakes, God knows I have made mine.

I hope we have a chance to see Tony this June, at the next Calif. HOF banquet. I want to shake his hand. And I want to do a story, and for the record, a BOXING story- nothin else!

-Rick

Thanks Rick.

Mr.D.

Back in the late 1960's I would say, in your neck of the woods there was a kid whom's last was Murphy,
he was train by his father whom's name I think was Spud Murphy, anyway the kid fought a few pro fights, and in one of his fights suffer a brain injury and his boxing licenses were pull by the commish, but his father would still let him box in the gym, one day after sparring as he was a taking a shower he fell dead in the shower.

Did you hear anything about that and is it true?


I remember seeing the kid fight at the Olympic, and you could tell by the way he fought he was likely to get hurt.

kikibalt wrote:Mr.D.

Back in the late 1960's I would say, in your neck of the woods there was a kid whom's last was Murphy,
he was train by his father whom's name I think was Spud Murphy, anyway the kid fought a few pro fights, and in one of his fights suffer a brain injury and his boxing licenses were pull by the commish, but his father would still let him box in the gym, one day after sparring as he was a taking a shower he fell dead in the shower.

Did you hear anything about that and is it true?


I remember seeing the kid fight at the Olympic, and you could tell by the way he fought he was likely to get hurt.

I will respond my friend. This event blew my mind.

kikibalt wrote:Where the hell is everybody?

Whatever is going on with your family,this Dago from San Diego is thinking about you 24/7 I ain't going anywhere.

kikibalt wrote:Where the hell is everybody?

I've been here the whole time listening

Broncano wrote:

kikibalt wrote:Where the hell is everybody?

I've been here the whole time listening

Thanks Broncano.

BoxBuzz wrote:with 11,337 and counting, viewings of this thread to this moment I would say that most folks who are dropping into this site are reading this thread. It's a record for this forum for the amount of time this thread has been up

. And most people will tell you that I'm not shy about speaking up, but to be honest there has been so much great content here that I have spent a lot of time just reading......and re reading. I'm sure there are many who are thankful for my respectful silence.....lol.

So don't take the occasional silence to mean no one his here, at any one time there are probably up to a half dozen people reading and taking in what has been written here. for every talker there are better than 10 readers.

Thanks Boxs

I knew this guy I used to work with at Juvenile Hall,Gilbert Baptist. A real polite guy. Had a son I called Little Champ. Gilbert had won some sort of North American title at one time and he was proud of that. That's why i called his son Little Champ. The little boy looked to be around 5 years of age.

Gilbert was in the same stable with Terry Norris. Terry was getting ready to fight Sugar Ray Leonard. Norris was very sharp then,probably at his peak. Me and Gilbert knew despite Leonard's experience that Terry was too good for him. Ray had slowed down,but he still thought he had enough in him to regain the title. Me and Gilbert knew he wasn't going to win no title if he had to get through Terry. Terry knew it too.

Before work one day at the Hall,Gilbert asked me if I wanted to see him and Norris spar at Spud Murphy's gym downtown. I asked him if it was the same Spud Murphy that used to fight as a featherweight at the Coliseum.
"Naw",it's his father's gym."
I was supposed to meet them around six in the evening. I get there a little early. Spud Murphy's Gym was upstairs above a pool hall on upper Broadway. It was a small gym,but layed out real nice. There was a couple of rings,4 or 5 heavy bags,speed bags,reaction bags(that's what I called them),and the weights. Just as you got to the top of the stairs,there was a wall on the right of Spud Murphy's press clippings. Spud Murphy was sort of a frail kid who couldn't punch,and to make matters worse,was a bleeder. I saw him fight against a kid named David Madrid who had won only 1 fight. Madrid gave Murphy a terrible beating. There weren't many press clippings on that wall.

Spud Murphy's father used to train his son,and the word around was that his father should let him go. But I think his father was living a dream with the boy,and like all dreams you wake up to reality. To make a long story short,Irish Spud Murphy wasn't cut out to be a fighter.

I waited around for Norris and Gilbert. I was watching the other boys working out and hoped that none of them had any aspirations to make a living with the sport. In the middle of the gym was a counter with the father and Spud's mother selling refreshments:bottled water,sodas,candy bars,and even beer. The old man was a talkative guy. Gray hair, rosy cheeks, and fair skinned. You could guess he was Irish. He resembled his son. He was talking to one of the fighters who came over to the counter to buy a water.
"Now there was no one who was in better condition than Spud," said the father to the guy buying the water.
His wife who was heavy, and had gray hair like his ,was storing candy behind the counter. They looked like the man and wife in the old black and white movie "The Grapes of Wrath."
"Spud could skip rope better than any one I ever seen," continued the father. The guy with the water went in front of a mirror to shadow box.
Norris and Gilbert were now more than 30 minutes late and I was beginning to wonder. I went up to the counter to buy a candy bar.

Right away the old man starts up again.
"No one hit the speed bag better than Spud."
"Give me a Baby Ruth."
I pretended to ignore him . I saw his son fight. He wasn't very good.
"Anything else,?"said the father. I felt he wanted to talk some more about his son.
"No,I'm fine."
I waited 15 more minutes and figured maybe I got the time or the day mixed up so I headed for the exit. As I was about to make my way down,I heard the father say,"Spud could run 10 miles a day and not even get winded."
At the bottom of the stairs I saw Norris and Gilbert.
"Sorry we're late," said Gilbert. "Got a flat. Aren't you gonna stay?"
"Naw,I gotta' get back. The wife has dinner waiting."
Norris and Gilbert started for the stairs.
"Hey does Murphy's old man always talk like that about his son?"
They stopped and turned around.
"The old fella can't get him out of his mind since he died," said Gilbert.
I just looked at them without responding. I guess they figured I wanted some sort of explanation.
"After his last fight,he went home and died," said Gilbert.
"Oh,I didn't know," I murmered.
"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the Hall."
Just as they were to go up ,I said,"Wait,I'll go up with you. I might as well watch you spar a few rounds."

dagosd2000 wrote:I knew this guy I used to work with at Juvenile Hall,Gilbert Baptist. A real polite guy. Had a son I called Little Champ. Gilbert had won some sort of North American title at one time and he was proud of that. That's why i called his son Little Champ. The little boy looked to be around 5 years of age.

Gilbert was in the same stable with Terry Norris. Terry was getting ready to fight Sugar Ray Leonard. Norris was very sharp then,probably at his peak. Me and Gilbert knew despite Leonard's experience that Terry was too good for him. Ray had slowed down,but he still thought he had enough in him to regain the title. Me and Gilbert knew he wasn't going to win no title if he had to get through Terry. Terry knew it too.

Before work one day at the Hall,Gilbert asked me if I wanted to see him and Norris spar at Spud Murphy's gym downtown. I asked him if it was the same Spud Murphy that used to fight as a featherweight at the Coliseum.
"Naw",it's his father's gym."
I was supposed to meet them around six in the evening. I get there a little early. Spud Murphy's Gym was upstairs above a pool hall on upper Broadway. It was a small gym,but layed out real nice. There was a couple of rings,4 or 5 heavy bags,speed bags,reaction bags(that's what I called them),and the weights. Just as you got to the top of the stairs,there was a wall on the right of Spud Murphy's press clippings. Spud Murphy was sort of a frail kid who couldn't punch,and to make matters worse,was a bleeder. I saw him fight against a kid named David Madrid who had won only 1 fight. Madrid gave Murphy a terrible beating. There weren't many press clippings on that wall.

Spud Murphy's father used to train his son,and the word around was that his father should let him go. But I think his father was living a dream with the boy,and like all dreams you wake up to reality. To make a long story short,Irish Spud Murphy wasn't cut out to be a fighter.

I waited around for Norris and Gilbert. I was watching the other boys working out and hoped that none of them had any aspirations to make a living with the sport. In the middle of the gym was counter with the father and Spud's mother selling refreshments:bottled water,sodas,candy bars,and even beer. The old man was a talkative guy. Gray hair, rosy cheeks, and fair skinned. You could guess he was Irish. He resembled his son. He was talking to one of the fighters who came over to the counter to buy a water.
"Now there was no one who was in better condition than Spud," said the father to the guy buying the water.
His wife who was heavy, and had gray hair like his ,was storing candy behind the counter. They looked like the man and wife in the old black and white movie "The Grapes of Wrath."
"Spud could skip rope better than any one I ever seen," continued the father. The guy with the water went in front of a mirror to shadow box.
Norris and Gilbert were now more than 30 minutes late and I was beginning to wonder. I went up to the counter to buy a candy bar.

Right away the old man starts up again.
"No one hit the speed bag better than Spud."
"Give me a Baby Ruth."
I pretended to ignore him . I saw his son fight. He wasn't very good.
"Anything else,?"said the father. I felt he wanted to talk some more about his son.
"No,I'm fine."
I waited 15 more minutes and figured maybe I got the time or the day mixed up so I headed for the exit. As I was about to make my way down,I heard the father say,"Spud could run 10 miles a day and not even be winded."
At the bottom of the stairs I saw Norris and Gilbert.
"Sorry we're late," said Gilbert. "Got a flat. Aren't you gonna stay?"
"Naw,I gotta' get back. The wife has dinner waiting."
Norris and Gilbert started for the stairs.
"Hey does Murphy's old man always talk like that about his son?"
They stopped and turned around.
"The old fella can't get him out of his mind since he died," said Gilbert.
I just looked at them without responding. I guess they figured I wanted some sort of explanation.
"After his last fight,he went home and died," said Gilbert.
"Oh,I didn't know," I murmered.
"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the Hall."
Just as they were to go up ,I said,"Wait,I'll go up with you. I might as well watch you spar a few rounds."

All I can say is WOW!!!!!!!!!

Its writings like this that makes this thread so special.

Two great writers, Mr. D and Rick, let give'em a big hand!!

When I thought of writing this,it was funny,I wanted to look up the winner of this fight in the BoxRec records. I remembered the guy that lost. He had stuck in my mind.

There was a fight arena called "Arena 72" just about a mile before you got to the track.I figured they built it in 1972,cause I never saw it before that. The big fights were either in the bullring or the auditorium,but that's when the fights were goin' strong in Tijuana and you put 'em wherever they'd fit. The "Arena 72" usually featured local talent that was moving up in the division. Instead of putting the "up and comer" on an undercard at the bullring,he'd be in the main eventer at the "Arena 72."

I'm not sure if they built the place in 1972 or just turned the building into a boxing arena bacause everything inside the place looked old. But it had the right feel for a boxing arena. Aisles that slanted down to the ring. Wooden seats, and the place wasn't too big inside. You could see all the action just as good in the cheap seats as ringside. It had a low ceiling so when the crowd got goin',there was plenty of noise.

The main event featured a young local talent named Felipe Urquiza. I remember he hadn't lost. He was a bantamweight so he had a tough road ahead 'cause just about all the talent in that division was Mexican. Both fighters came down from opposite sides from their dressing rooms almost at the same time. I looked at the program to see if I recognized who the local boy was fighting. A black kid from the U.S.,Ronnie Furlow. It didn't surprise me that the name didn't ring a bell.

As Furlow is making his way to the ring,I notice on the back of his robe the words "Joe's Place". Right away I figure when the bell rings ,I better not get up to buy a beer. The fighters are prancing up and down in their corners and the bell rings. They turn,come to center,touch gloves,and the Mexican kid lets fly a left hook that originated somewhere near Guadalajara. Furlow is is tracking it in on his "chin radar" and like that it's over. The crowd ,at first, was annoyed. But let's face it,their guy won. Urquiza gets a hearty hand from the fans while I see Furlow's corner putting his robe back on. I see him walking up the aisle with"Joe's Place" on his back. I figured Furlow had a beer waiting for him there when he got back.

kikibalt wrote:

Frank,Rick,You guys must have somrthing to say about this guy.

Mr.D,

I can't say that I know much about Jordon, I seen him fight a few times and met him at the gym, when he would work-out at the teamsters Gym, but I knew his then manager Felix Villareal real good, all that stuff about Jordon been a hit man is b...s, so say Villareal, and I believe Villareal.

Speaking of Terry Norris . . .

In the early 90's, shortly after Michael Nunn left the management of the Goossen Family, Terry Norris contacted Joe Goossen, about training him. Norris wanted to make a change, and Goossen was asked if he would work him.

Goossen agreed to train Terry, and asked when would be moving up to L.A. where Joe would work with him at his gym in Van Nuys. Norris told Goossen he "couldn't move to Los Angeles for personal reasons, and expected Goossen to move his entire operation down to San Diego.

Joe was amazed, and told Norris he had two world champions and a gym full of prospects, he wasn't going anywhere. "What is keeping you from coming up here?", Goossen asked.

Norris reluctantly confessed to Goossen, "I can't leave town, I'm afraid my wife might cheat on me. She messes with my head when I'm outta town".

Goossen shook his head, and told Norris, he had a decision to make regarding his future in boxing. The Jr. Middleweight champ asked Goossen for his advice. "What should I do?, he asked.

Goossen's answer was short and simple, "Get rid of the bitch".

Norris stayed in San Diego, Goossen stayed in the San Fernando Valley. I wonder how long that marriage lasted?


-Rick

kikibalt wrote:

bennie wrote:Frankie, just looking at Tony's record after he got past Mayweather and presumably was on the verge of a major world title shot - how come he boxed only once in the next four years?

As I write this, I do it with a heavy heart.

Tony fought Roger Mayweather with one bad hand (right), I have already address that in another post, he had surgery on the hand after the R.M. fight, after the surgery he had lots of time with nothing to do but hang out with his friends and drink and god know what else they were doing.
The hand was taking a long time to heal, so that gave him more time to hang out and drink, sometime in 1984-85, he was involved in a auto accident while drinking, Tony's best friend Roger and a little boy, Timmy Duran, in the other car were killed, Tony was arrested and charged and later on convicted of vehicular manslanghter, he was sentence to 3 years in prison, he did 2 1/2 years.
The fight with Darrell Cottrell was between the accident and going to prison.

It gives me no particularly pleasure to address this chapter of Tony's life, but the chapter has been written and we (Tony, his siblings, my wife and I) have to deal with it.
Tony carries a heavy burden, and its a burden that he will carry for the rest of his life, we, his family, try to help and make that burden a little lighter.
Tony is having a hard time dealing with all this, though he has made peace with Roger's and Timmy Duran's parents and with his god, Tony is not a happy man, he just can't make peace with himself and get over it, its that and the death of his son Kody (5 years old) that sometimes gets to be too much for him and he'll start crying like a baby.

Bennie,

Do not feel bad for asking the question, it a fair question and you're entitled to an answer.

Very sorry about this Frank.
I had no idea.
I sent up a prayer for you when I heard you were not feeling well.
I will send one up for Tony and the famalies here.
Tommorow on the way to work I will stop by my Church and light a candle.
Your friend Brian.

kikibalt wrote:

dagosd2000 wrote:I knew this guy I used to work with at Juvenile Hall,Gilbert Baptist. A real polite guy. Had a son I called Little Champ. Gilbert had won some sort of North American title at one time and he was proud of that. That's why i called his son Little Champ. The little boy looked to be around 5 years of age.

Gilbert was in the same stable with Terry Norris. Terry was getting ready to fight Sugar Ray Leonard. Norris was very sharp then,probably at his peak. Me and Gilbert knew despite Leonard's experience that Terry was too good for him. Ray had slowed down,but he still thought he had enough in him to regain the title. Me and Gilbert knew he wasn't going to win no title if he had to get through Terry. Terry knew it too.

Before work one day at the Hall,Gilbert asked me if I wanted to see him and Norris spar at Spud Murphy's gym downtown. I asked him if it was the same Spud Murphy that used to fight as a featherweight at the Coliseum.
"Naw",it's his father's gym."
I was supposed to meet them around six in the evening. I get there a little early. Spud Murphy's Gym was upstairs above a pool hall on upper Broadway. It was a small gym,but layed out real nice. There was a couple of rings,4 or 5 heavy bags,speed bags,reaction bags(that's what I called them),and the weights. Just as you got to the top of the stairs,there was a wall on the right of Spud Murphy's press clippings. Spud Murphy was sort of a frail kid who couldn't punch,and to make matters worse,was a bleeder. I saw him fight against a kid named David Madrid who had won only 1 fight. Madrid gave Murphy a terrible beating. There weren't many press clippings on that wall.

Spud Murphy's father used to train his son,and the word around was that his father should let him go. But I think his father was living a dream with the boy,and like all dreams you wake up to reality. To make a long story short,Irish Spud Murphy wasn't cut out to be a fighter.

I waited around for Norris and Gilbert. I was watching the other boys working out and hoped that none of them had any aspirations to make a living with the sport. In the middle of the gym was counter with the father and Spud's mother selling refreshments:bottled water,sodas,candy bars,and even beer. The old man was a talkative guy. Gray hair, rosy cheeks, and fair skinned. You could guess he was Irish. He resembled his son. He was talking to one of the fighters who came over to the counter to buy a water.
"Now there was no one who was in better condition than Spud," said the father to the guy buying the water.
His wife who was heavy, and had gray hair like his ,was storing candy behind the counter. They looked like the man and wife in the old black and white movie "The Grapes of Wrath."
"Spud could skip rope better than any one I ever seen," continued the father. The guy with the water went in front of a mirror to shadow box.
Norris and Gilbert were now more than 30 minutes late and I was beginning to wonder. I went up to the counter to buy a candy bar.

Right away the old man starts up again.
"No one hit the speed bag better than Spud."
"Give me a Baby Ruth."
I pretended to ignore him . I saw his son fight. He wasn't very good.
"Anything else,?"said the father. I felt he wanted to talk some more about his son.
"No,I'm fine."
I waited 15 more minutes and figured maybe I got the time or the day mixed up so I headed for the exit. As I was about to make my way down,I heard the father say,"Spud could run 10 miles a day and not even be winded."
At the bottom of the stairs I saw Norris and Gilbert.
"Sorry we're late," said Gilbert. "Got a flat. Aren't you gonna stay?"
"Naw,I gotta' get back. The wife has dinner waiting."
Norris and Gilbert started for the stairs.
"Hey does Murphy's old man always talk like that about his son?"
They stopped and turned around.
"The old fella can't get him out of his mind since he died," said Gilbert.
I just looked at them without responding. I guess they figured I wanted some sort of explanation.
"After his last fight,he went home and died," said Gilbert.
"Oh,I didn't know," I murmered.
"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the Hall."
Just as they were to go up ,I said,"Wait,I'll go up with you. I might as well watch you spar a few rounds."

All I can say is WOW!!!!!!!!!

Its writings like this that makes this thread so special.

Two great writers, Mr. D and Rick, let give'em a big hand!!

Fantastic writing Dagos.
A very sad story.

Yes, I remember now, Frankie. Thank you for your honesty.

kikibalt wrote:
Alejando Lavorante vs Zora Folley

Fantastic shot. Lavorante could obviously fight.

Very sorry about this Frank.
I had no idea.
I sent up a prayer for you when I heard you were not feeling well.
I will send one up for Tony and the famalies here.
Tommorow on the way to work I will stop by my Church and light a candle.
Your friend Brian.

Thanks Brian for your kind words and prayers.

bennie wrote:Yes, I remember now, Frankie. Thank you for your honesty.

Thanks Bennie, I try to be honest in what ever I do, though sometime I haven't been, like when I tell my wife "no!no! I wasn't lookin' at that girl"

bennie wrote:

kikibalt wrote:
Alejando Lavorante vs Zora Folley

Fantastic shot. Lavorante could obviously fight.

Always stunned at that one. Folley had so much talent but his chin was very questionable. Lavorante, Young Jack Johnson and Doug Jones in their rematch simply got to him. But when he was really 'on', he could hold a Bonavena, Chuvalo and Bob Foster at bay. Very talented dude...except for the jaw part.

Scartissue

Young Jack Johnson