Alex Ramos

Alex Ramos

Alex "The Bronx Bomber" Ramos
Founder and President
Retired Boxers Foundation, Inc.

Front row on left a young Alex Ramos
1976 St. Nobert's College, Green Bay-Depere, WI

Tony Baltazar, Alex Ramos and Jerry Cheatham

Frank Baltazar Sr., Alex Ramos and Tony Baltazar

From Jacquie Richardson, a very close friend of Alex Ramos

Dear friends, I am writing this to people who I know love and care about Alex Ramos.He is in the hospital in critical condition. He is on a respirator. After several hours in the Emergency Room, he has just been transferred to the IntensiveCare Unit. He has nor regained consciousness, and now, he is in a drug induced coma to rest his brain. The best guess at this time, per the physician, is that he suffered from brain seizures and possibly an asthma attack. His vital signs are stable, finally. The worked on him for over an hour this morning to resuscitate him in the ER and performed many tests. He had a CT scan and his brain shows no sign of bleeding or anuerysm. Histox screens came back negative --no alcohol or drugs.Since I had not heard from Alex since yesterday at 5:30 PM, and sincehe had not checked his email for 15 hours, I became worried (If youknow Alex, you know he calls me frequently!). I called his apartmentmanager, Vicky, and told her that I had a bad feeling and if she sawAlex, would she call me and tell me he was alive. As we talked, Itold her that I did not want to impose on his right to privacy, but Iwas concerned that he might have fallen or that he was sick. Vickycalled her manager and made the brave decision to go into theapartment. Without going into details, Alex was unconscious, withshallow breathing and probably near death. Vicky called 9-1-1 andthey attempted to stabilize him and took him to the Emergency Room.ER Staff worked for another hour to stabilize him, using a handrespirator. He had a CT scan that revealed no bleeding or anuerysm.As I said, Tox screens came back negative. Based on the descriptionof how he was found (body and neck rigid/stiff), there is a strongsuspician that he suffered a seizure, and complications from asthma.I will keep you posted. Please, if you have a prayer in your heart,use if for Alex. He will be slowly weaned from the respirator whichwill leave us with some answers about how much damage has been doneearly tomorrow morning. Alex is loved by many people through outthe world and he needs you to pray for his recovery.As he always says...."God Bless!"JacquieRETIRED BOXERS FOUNDATIONLets all pray for his 100% recovery,

Courtesy of Rick Farris

Dear Rick,

I very much appreciated the recounting of your boxing experiences during your days in the sun and particularly when you fought at the Olympic. It brought back so many memories to myself, not as a prize fighter, but as a devoted fan and budding historian, watching televised fights with Dad, many of which took place at the Olympic Auditorium. Invariably, he would say, upon hearing that the fight was taking place at the Olympic in Los Angeles, he would tell my brother and myself, "I remember fighting at the Olympic." We have a taped conversation of him describing some wars that took place during his fights at the Olympic, the impression it made upon him, and a description of sparing with heavyweight Dynamite Jackson.

I've taken the liberty to follow-up on your recollections to provide you with the following newspaper account of a fight which took place in January of 1929 between Young Firpo and Marvin Rife. To set the stage somewhat, Young Firpo began his career in 1924 up to the Los Angeles venture he had fought the vast majority of his fights in the Coeur d'Alene Mining District, the Spokane area, Montana, Seattle and Tacoma. He knew the importance of fighting in the Olympic and the need to make an impression upon the Californian crowd. Going into the Rife fight, Firpo had engage in 44 fights and recorded 24 knockouts. And did he ever! Rife became KO victory No. 25. Here's the fight coverage:

Young Firpo Makes a Hit With California Ring Fans

Young Firpo, the Wild Bull of Burke and idol of the Coeur d'Alene district's ring fans has won favor in southern California as a result of his two round knockout of Marvin Rife, Los Angeles light-heavyweight in a bout last Tuesday at the Olympic auditorium, Los Angeles. California sport writers who saw the fracas have nothing but praise for the squat Italian boy from the Burke canyon.

There facts are show in four newspaper clippings received from Los Angeles today by Wallace friends of Young Firpo.

Stub Nelson, writing in the Los Angeles Record, compares the Firpo-Rife bout to the historic Luis Angel Firpo-Jack Dempsey bout of several years ago, and praises the Burke battler as follows in a story headed "Firpo Scores Hit a la Dempsey:

"The thrill is the thing --- especially in boxing. The story of why Dempsey has always had such a hold on the public was pictured --- in a smaller way --- at the Olympic auditorium last night.

"It happened in the special. Young firpo, a squat-built powerful Italian, with barrel chest and bowed legs, started out fast in his bout with Marvin Rife.

"Just when he looked a sure winner, he ran into a right hand and was flattened out in the slag. He barely got up at nine.

"The young Italian --- with his pawing gorilla-like arms, got off the canvas and floored Rife --- knocked him staff as the bell rang.

"Firpo staggered toward the wrong corner and Rife was carried to his.

"There you had a replica of the Dempsey-Firpo fight.

"The crowd didn't care about classy boxers then. Men stood on their seats and yelled --- throwing programs and hats in the air. That action is a fight always grips a human being.

"The world remembers how Dempsey bounced Willard down seven times in one round at Toledo. And they also know that Jack climbed back into a New York ring and felled the huge ox, Firpo.

"Such stuff made Dempsey a million dollar attraction.

"There was more yelling after one round of the Firpo-Rife preliminary bout than there has been in dozen of classy main events.

Young Firpo means something here now. He can come back as soon as he chooses."

In another section of the Record, Stub Nelson also wrote on the Firpo-Rife bout as follows:

"Young Firpo and Marvin rife, light heavies, put on the big thrill of the night. They met in the six-round special. Firpo was out cold near the end of the first session but got up and floored rife. The bell saved the latter.

"He didn't recover and Firpo floored him three times in the second round."

Another Los Angeles sport writer saw the Firpo-Rife bout as follows, and headed his write up with the heading above: Rip-Snorting Bout ---

"Young Firpo and Marvin Rife put on a rip-snorter. Both were down in the first round. Firpo was flat on his back and looked dead as a pickled mackerel. At nine he was up and planted Rife just as the bell rang. In the second round he had Rife on the floor twice for nine counts and the referee halted the battle."

Still another writer saw the bout this way:

"The main event was all but over shadowed by the special event involving a couple of sluggers known to the annals of the racket as Young Firpo and Marvin Rife. Firpo was forcing the issue and pummeling Rife all over the ring when suddenly a right hand shot to the chin and down went Firpo, stretched flat on his back. Up at nine, Firpo went after his man in the second and finally got him, knocking him through the ropes for count of eight, and finally slapping Rife silly --- so silly that the engagement was stopped. The customers stood on the hind legs and howled. You'd have thought it was a football game."

And finally, yet another writer captured the excitement in this manner:

"In a knockdown drag-out affair, Young Firpo managed to score a technical kayo over Marvin Rife after a short period of the second round had witnessed plenty of action. In the first canto, Rife landed a hard right to the chin that sent Firpo to the floor for a nine count.

"The fallen fighter arose, shook his head and tossed his fists into the face of Rife, who got in the way of a heavy right hand --- Marvin fell like a log and only the round bell saved him.

"Coming out for the second canto, Firpo piled in again and soon had his opponent down on the floor, where the fight was stopped. Marvin was in no shape to continue.

For the record, Firpo did return for other engagements in California. Shortly after the slugfest with Rife, Young Firpo decisioned Jimmy Barry at the Hollywood American Legion, and then beat Joe Woods at the Olympic Auditorium. The fights were broadcast over KFWB, Los Angeles. The announcer in the Barry fight, as heard in the greater Spokane and Wallace, Idaho, area yelled to an excited group of listeners within the Coeur d'Alene Mining District: "Whoever named Young Firpo the Wild Bull of Burke was way off. The way that boy punched could not be called wild in any sense of the word!"

Firpo then went on to fight at the Olympic Auditorium again garnering a decision over Tom Patrick. Despite countless invitations to move to the Los Angeles area to pursue his career, Firpo was a product of the rugged mountains of Burke, Idaho and his temperament would not allow him to move away from the environment that gave him strength and solitude and he would be on the road back to his northern Idaho haunts immediately following any out of the area encounter ... be it Los Angeles, San Francisco, Denver, Portland, or Seattle.

Sincerely yours,John A. BardelliAttorney at Law606 North Pines Road, Suite 201Spokane, WA 99206(509)926-9566(509)926-1564 faxJABARDELLI@AOl.COM

Outside The Lines: Still Standing - George Chuvalo

Howievision: USA Boxing Needs Changes

What it was like, FIGHTING AT THE OLYMPIC . . . By Rick Farris

Courtesy of Rick Farris

What it was like, FIGHTING AT THE OLYMPIC . . . I'll never forget the first time I went to the Olympic to watch a fight. It was the mid 60's and I was a kid with my dad. The place was like a magic kingdom to me. The smell of beer and cigar smoke, the roar of the crowd, the powder blue ring canvas, the TV lights shining down from the edge of the balcony. The ring lights glaring straight down from above, the beam of light shrouding the ring in smoke that wafted up from ringside.I dreamed of fighting there one day. Just a kid's dream, but I made it come true. How? I don't know, but I did!I remember the excitment of the crowd as I watched as a kid. The fighters would come bouncing down the aisle to the ring, the crowd would greet them with a thunderous ovation, especially for the big fights. You'd never forget the excitement of Mando Ramos, his ring entrance would send a shock wave of energy thru the crowd. So would Jerry Quarry, Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez, and so on. I rememebr Mando when he would enter the ring, it was so different than what you see today. No rap music, no entourage, no dancing, no magic carpet entrance, just Mando bounding down the ring behind Jackie McCoy, holding a bucket. When Mando would step thru the ropes the crowd would explode. When he was introduced by the late Jimmy Lennon Sr. there were no histerics, no stare downs, no false bravado. Mando would just calmly nod to his fans. He'd do his fighting in the ring. He was the coming of a new "Golden Boy".I dreamed of fighting in that ring, and I would one day do just that, and I would do it quite a few times. The first time in the 1967 Jr. Golden Gloves Championship finals, in a bout that Frank Baltazar was matchmaker. Frank's boys were there too, Frankie Jr. Tony and Bobby. Later I would appear there as an amateur, in the Golden Gloves, and the Diamond Belt tournaments, and before the thursday night pro cards on a few occasions, and then as a pro. The first nine pro fights of my career were held at the Olympic. I was never a great fighter like the guys I named above, but I fought at the Olympic, and Jimmy Lennon introduced me to the crowd quite a few times. That is something that NOBODY can take away from me. I had a dream, and made it happen!I sat in those underground dressing rooms, watched the guy fighting before me leave our dressing room and hear him introduced to the crowd from deep below the arena. Then, as I nervously tried to rest, hear the crowd roar. I knew something was happening, as I nervously anticipated my bout, which was next up. Johnny Flores would warm me up, lace on the gloves, apply a thin layer of Vaseline and then pull my robe over my shoulders. The bout would end, a decision was announced and a few moments later the guy who shared the dressing room with me would return, sometimes smiling in victory or not, sometimes battered and bloody, sometimes not. Then the athletic commssion rep would step in and say "It's time Ricky, your on . . ." Johnny Flores would slap my back and say, "Let's go champ", and we were off. Out the door of the room, down to the exit tunnel, thru the opening, turn left and up a short flight of stairs to the top, turn left, past the concessions stands, turn right and down the aisle to the ring. I then move slowly behind Flores as the fans reach out to touch me, we pass from under the balcony and as I come into view of the crowd I hear a roar and I begin to jog the rest of the way to the ring, up the steps, thru the ropes and suddenly all the butter flies disapear. Jimmy Lennon flips a large disk to determine which corner will be mine, then we move to that corner. I walk to the rosen box and see my opponent climb thru the ropes. The perspective from the ring is much different from that outside the ring. Frank will tell you, no matter how many times you've sat ringside, nothing looks quite the same at the Olympic as it does from inside that powder blue ring. Things are suddenly much smaller inside the ropes. There is an unexplaneable intimacy, excitement, energy. Suddenly, the microphone drops down from the rafters into Jimmy Lennon's hands."Ladies and gentleman this is the semi-main event of the evening, six rounds of boxing between two outstanding banatmweights. Calling the bout from ringside will be TV announcer Jim Healy, keeping account of the knockdowns will be our timekeeper Jack Smith at the bell, and physician in attendence will be Dr. Bernhart Schwartz. Judging from ringside will be George Latka and Dick Young, and the referee in charge of this bout will be John Thomas. Allright fans here we go . . ."Sorry guys, I just got caught up in the greatest memory I posess. . . I FOUGHT AT THE OLYMPIC!-Rick Farris

The Baltazars

This photo of the Baltazars, some of them at least, was too good not to post. A great photo Frank, especially of your father.

Four Generations of Baltazars
L to R, ..Rocky, Frankie Jr., Frank Sr. and Frank's Father Aurelio

Oscar De la Hoya vs Manny Pacquiao

As you know, this is not the fight I wanted to see as Oscar's farewell fight (whether it really is a farewell fight remains to be seen). I would have preferred he went out against Antonio Margarito. I'm not being critical of Oscar but I just feel with this fight he puts himself between a rock and a hard place. Though Oscar is certainly not the first fighter to take on a smaller opponent, he has, at the very least, been the most criticized, and wrongly so.

A loss to Manny Paquiao, would not keep him out of the Hall of Fame but it would certainly tarnish his legacy, and for what? A win would produce jeers, no matter how the fight turns out. An easy win over Paquiao would seem like a foregone conclusion and produce a collective "So what". A hard fought narrow victory would justify (at least in perception) all the criticism.

However, since they are going to fight, my hope is that De La Hoya will whip himself into the best shape of his life and fight as if he means it. Don't let it become a battle of attrition, because Manny will be there fighting, swinging and trying his damnedest to win, from the first bell to the last. It's what he does. If Paquiao wins this fight he won't just be the national hero of the Philippines, he'll be their god.

Photo by Alex Cruz

Bill Dwyre:
De La Hoya-Pacquiao fight is set

Oscar De La Hoya has agreed to a December 6 boxing match with rising superstar Manny Pacquiao.
The biggest bout in years, supposedly called off 10 days ago, will take place in Las Vegas on Dec. 6.

The biggest boxing match in years will, indeed, take place. Oscar De La Hoya has agreed to a Dec. 6 match with rising superstar Manny Pacquiao.The official announcement, barring last-minute reversals, will be made in a conference call Thursday morning.The match, the grand finale of 35-year-old De La Hoya's unprecedented career as the box-office king in a sport that has survived on his back for more than 10 years without a dominant heavyweight, will be held at the MGM Grand Hotel Garden in Las Vegas. The pay-per-view will be available on HBO.Ten days ago, Richard Schaefer, De La Hoya's partner in the operation of Golden Boy Promotions, and Pacquiao's promoter Bob Arum of Top Rank had announced that negotiations for the much-anticipated fight had broken down and it would not take place. Schaefer and De La Hoya wanted a 70-30% split of receipts, which would include a projected 2-million-plus pay-per-view buys. Arum and Pacquiao had balked and the deal was off.In the interim, as recently as two days ago, stories had appeared that the front-runner to replace Pacquiao on De La Hoya's farewell card was promoter Dan Goossen's Paul Williams, who had a victory over Antonio Margarito. Margarito, who is from Mexico, was the recent surprise winner over Miguel Cotto in a fight that was to set up De La Hoya's next opponent.But when Margarito won, that took the Puerto Rican Cotto out of the picture and De La Hoya had said all along that he did not want his farewell fight to be against a fellow Mexican. De La Hoya, of Mexican heritage, was raised in East Los Angeles and won an Olympic gold medal for the United States.But the Williams talks apparently were mostly wishful thinking, and De La Hoya agreed to drop his percentage of the take in a Pacquiao bout to a two-thirds/one-third arrangement.They will fight at 147 pounds.Pacquiao, 29, the most celebrated and recognized athlete in the Philippines, has won titles at five lower weights and is more comfortable around 136-140 pounds. De La Hoya has won multiple titles and is more comfortable around 154.The largest pay-per-view fight in boxing history was the 2007 match between De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather Jr., won by the now-retired Mayweather. That drew 2.4 million buys. De La Hoya previously was involved in the largest non-heavyweight pay-per-view fight when he suffered his first loss, in 1999, against Felix Trinidad.De La Hoya will take a record of 39-5 with 30 knockouts into the fight. Pacquiao's record is 47-3-2, with 35 knockouts.bill.dwyre@latimes.com

Muhammad Ali's manager Herbert Muhammad Dies

Chicago, 1964: Ali with Elijah Muhammad and Elijah's son Herbert Muhammad

Article By Kevin Iole

posted by ScottG

By Kevin Iole
Herbert Muhammad, one of the most powerful figures in boxing in the 1960s and 1970s when he was managing heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali's career, died Monday in Chicago.
He never recovered after undergoing triple heart bypass surgery. He was 78.
Muhammad, whose father, Elijah Muhammad, was the leader of the Nation of Islam, began managing Ali's career in 1964, shortly after Ali defeated Sonny Liston to win the heavyweight title.
Muhammad negotiated a $10 million purse for Ali to fight Joe Frazier on March 8, 1971, in a bout many consider the biggest event in the sport's history. It was known as "The Fight of the Century."
His negotiating skill on Ali's behalf helped to drive up salaries for athletes in all sports, said Gene Kilroy, Ali's longtime friend and his former business manager.
"He was a good guy and he never got his just due," Kilroy said. "He did a lot for Muhammad and he was a very, very sharp guy. Back in those days, (NFL Hall of Famer) Jim Brown was making something like $60,000 a year. The top baseball players were making around $50,000 or so.
"Ali started making those huge purses because of Herbert and that helped raised salaries for all athletes."
In a brilliant April 25, 1988, piece about Ali's entourage in Sports Illustrated, Gary Smith wrote of Muhammad's negotiating brilliance.
"The Manager had ushered in the era of million-dollar sports contract, brilliantly playing promoters Don King and Bob Arum off against each other," Smith wrote.
Smith later quoted Ali saying that Muhammad would be the only non-family member he'd take with him if he could take five people on a trip to the moon.
Muhammad also worked with Ali in his post-fighting career and estimated Ali could have been making as much as $30 million a year in the late 1980s had he been interesting in pursuing endorsement deals, which he was not.
Kilroy said Ali, who rarely speaks because of the effects of Parkinson's disease and who did not release a statement regarding Muhammad's death, was aware of how important his manager was in his career.
"Herbert did so much for Muhammad that people don't know about, it's a crime," Kilroy said. "He deserves to be remembered for what he did for Ali."

Is Boxing Going to the Dogs?

I've heard of a fighter having a bit of the dog in him but this is ridiculous!

A Different Place by Roger Esty

Courtesy of Roger Esty

A DIFFERENT PLACE

Look at a boxing ring. Go to an empty gym and look at the ring. Simple structure. Strands of rope attached to ring posts and a canvas mat. A work place and theater for the sport of boxing. Inside the ring is the most unforgiving place in the world. Once you are inside the ring you are expected to accept what comes at you. It is not friendly. Sympathy is a vacuum. If you can't take what's going on in there,there's no law saying you have to go back in. But if you make the decision to get inside the ring,you are on your own. You have to find something inside yourself to survive in there. Don't look at your corner to help you. You have to punch. Protect yourself. You are on your own. When the work inside the ring is over,you leave with a satisfaction that you were tested when you had no one with you. Alone, you withstood the test. If you can do it alone,you know you can do anything.

More on Jerry Quarry

Speaking of Jerry Quarry. In 1993 I took my son Andrew to a card show at the Long Beach Convention Center. Jerry Quarry was going to be there. I wanted Andrew to meet him. He was scheduled to be there at a certain time so we waited around, walked around, bought a few things and by the time we came back he was all set up and ready to meet his fans.

He had a spot that was isolated and separated from all the other celebrity guests, which included Willie Stargell of the Pittsburgh Pirates. The lines for these guys formed fast. The crowd was excited to meet these guys. All except Quarry. I would like to say that I waited in a long line to meet him but the truth is not one person besides myself wanted to meet him. It was awkward at first, like when a comic screws up the punchline and no one laughs. Then I thought "Screw'em". Andrew and I have him all to ourselves.

We ended up spending about an hour talking to him. He was genuinely grateful that we wanted to meet him and get his autograph. As we talked he said he was making a comeback. Well, not knowing at the time about his failing mental health, I was excited for him, wishing him luck and so forth. The guy that was sitting next to him made eye contact with me and just shook his head ever so slightly, cluing me in on Jerry. He was letting me know not to pay to much attention to what he was saying. Suddenly the light bulb went on and my heart was suddenly broken. I mean it was broken. Here was this big strapping man with arms like oak. Strong and eager but in a few minutes it became obvious to me. My son didn't see it. He was only eleven at the time. It didn't change how I felt about him. He was still Jerry Quarry. He signed two photos for my son and I. I still have them.

In a way, I was glad that no one else spoke with him. People can be cruel. There is a difference between an all around sports fan and a true boxing fan. I think they would have laughed at him. I don't think I would have tolerated that.

Boxing Stamps

I have had these stamps for about fifeteen years. I bought them at a card show at the Long Beach convention center in 1993. I thought they were just too interesting and unique to pass up. I have no idea what the current value is and to be honest, I can't remember what I paid. I have no idea how rare or common they are but I have yet to see any other since I bought these.

Budweiser Clydesdale Team Commercial

I love this Budweiser commercial. Yeah, there's the beer, and that's always a good thing. There's the Rocky theme and you gotta like that too, but what really grabs me is the bottom line message in this commercial. All things being equal, fights are won and lost in the gym, that is an indisputable truth, and you can't do it alone. It probably holds true for most sports. Great commercial. Who knew a Budweiser commercial could be so profound?

The Roger Esty Gallery

The Roger Esty Gallery is now up and running and available for viewing. As some of you already know, Roger, originally from the "Windy City" of Chicago, Illinois and now a resident of San Diego is a painter of great and popular boxing stars, as well as other pop culture celebrities. He has agreed to allow this site to display his work. We are honored. Below are two samples of his artwork. To reach his gallery go here: The Roger Esty Gallery.

The gallery website is still new and is for the moment, incomplete. Once on the site you can control how you view the photos by clicking between the two small boxes on the upper right hand corner of the web page. Feel free to leave a comment on the site.

The "Brown Bomber" Joe Louis

The Original "Golden Boy" Art Aragon

ME ‘n ELVIS by Bill O'neill

This article reprinted here with the expressed permission of author Bill O'Neill

ME ‘n ELVIS

by Bill O’Neill

Did I ever tell ya’ll about my momentous, in-person meeting with Elvis Presley—the King of Rock ‘n Roll, himself?

Well, it happened at an arena called The Forum, in Inglewood, CA, on either Feb.15, 1970, or Feb. 28, 1973. Those were the dates of the two meetings between the great welterweight champion, Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles, and a crowd-pleasing battler from the Los Angeles area, Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez. I was there in the capacity of boxing writer, covering the fight for a couple of local newspapers. And Elvis was there as a spectator and fan, surrounded by his retinue of four or five good-ole-boy "bodyguards" known jokingly as the Memphis Mafia.

It appeared that Elvis may have been going incognito that evening, in that he was wearing spectacular, wrap-around dark glasses. However, the white "ice cream suit" he was wearing, combined with the presence of his phalanx of yes-man cronies, was a dead giveaway that he was somebody special.

Shortly after the bout ended, I walked into the dressing room area to gather post-fight comments. I jotted down a few quotes, then stepped into the "water closet" to take care of some business. And when I turned to leave, there he was, the Great Man himself, waiting his turn at the urinal. We came within inches of bumping into each other. I nodded, and so did he. My first impression was that he was a much larger man than I had previously thought. He probably went about six-foot-three, to begin with; and the high-heeled boots he was wearing sent him right on up into the altitude of the Los Angeles Lakers, who claimed the Forum as their home court in those days.

But that wasn’t the extent of our impromptu meeting. Ever the inquiring reporter, I spotted Promoter Don Fraser standing nearby and asked him to introduce me to Mr. Presley. And he did so, somewhat reluctantly.

I’m not sure exactly what I said to Elvis; but I think I probably blurted out that he and I were almost exactly the same age, that I was also a Southern boy, that I was a fan of his, and considered him to be a good American.

Elvis looked me briefly in the eye, gave me that lop-sided, one-corner-of-the-mouth smile, and uttered those immortal words for which he was justifiably famous.

He said, or at least mumbled those famous words:

"Thankyouverymuch."

Oscar De La Hoya vs Antonio Margarito?

Who should Oscar De La Hoya fight next? To my way of thinking there is only one fighter out there for Oscar to face and that is Antonio Margarito. Forget Manny Paquiao, forget Sergio Mora, and please, forget Felix Trinidad, whom Oscar has already beaten once fair and square. Trinidad is just a shell of his former self. He should fight Antonio Margarito. It’s the only real win -win fight out there for him and, just as importantly, for boxing fans.

It has to be tempting for Oscar to think about going out with a win over Manny, but that’s the business side of Oscar. This fight is a no win situation for Oscar, though I doubt he would lose this fight, it would really mar his career if he did and a win over Manny would produce more yawns than a George Bush State of the Union address. Because of the size difference Oscar has been criticized for even considering this fight. Personally, I don’t see the problem, especially when you consider that Sugar Ray Leonard, Marvin Hagler, and especially Tommy Hearns, all made a good living fighting Roberto Duran and were all naturally bigger men than Duran, who began his career as a 118 lb fighter and was the lightweight champ for seven years before moving up to the welterweights and then ultimately, the middleweights, where at the age of 38, he beat a much larger and younger Iran Barkley in 1989 to win the WBC Middleweight title. The truth is he was just a blown up light weight. As far as I’m concerned that cancels out any criticism of De La Hoya.

Again, with all that being said, Oscar should fight Margarito. Call me crazy, but It’s not inconceivable to me that Oscar, even at the age of 35, could win against Margarito, though the odds would certainly be stacked against him. Miguel Cotto has already laid out the blue print for beating him, but even if he had not, Oscar possesses the skills to out box Margarito. Style wise, and you can disagree with me if you want, Margarito is tailor made for Oscar but that is not what Oscar has to concern himself with. The bottom line with Margarito is heart and chin but he is not unbeatable, despite how unbeatable he looked against Cotto.

There is no trickery or dishonesty about the way Margarito fights, he just fights. Again, you can disagree with me if you want but Oscar De La Hoya is also an honest fighter, though his style is different than Margarito. When he has lost, he never made excuses , he took it like a man and when he has won, he did so with grace and he never ducked anyone. What more can we ask of him? My hope is that Oscar will think with the fighter side and not the business side of him, his heart not his brain and decide to fight Margarito. This would be a classic Chicano vs. Mexican fight. I’m starting to feel like one of the last of the Mohicans in my support of Oscar De La Hoya but I would like to see this fight and I would like to see Oscar win. Win, lose or draw this is the way to go out.

Oscar De La Hoya's Career Record

Antonio Margarito's Career Record

Aurelio Baltazar

Aurelio Baltazar
Born: November 12, 1913, Mexico - Died: May 11, 2000, Whittier, California.

Aurelio Baltazar, former boxer and the father of Frank Baltazar Sr.

This classic paintiing was done by Frank's cousin Marty Arriola

Olympic Boxing Follies

By Scottg

I have been watching the Olympic boxing on one of the offshoot NBC cable channels and when I saw the scoring I was amazed. First let's look at how it's done. Per About.com it goes some thing like this:
The fighters fight four two minute rounds using 10 ounce gloves with the white main hitting area.
An electronic scoring system registers a point whenever three or more judges press the button for one boxer within a second of each other. No point is awarded for a hit unless three of the five judges agree. When two boxers trade blows in a flurry of infighting, where no full-force punches can land, the judges wait until the end of the exchange and award a point to the boxer who got the better of it.At the end of the bout, when each judge's points have been totaled, the boxer awarded the most points by a majority of the judges is declared the winner.
If two boxers end up with the same number of points, the judges decide a winner by assessing such factors as which of the two took the lead and showed better style.
If the judges determine those factors to be even, they turn to which competitor showed better defense. Punches to an opponent's arms do not score points. Punches that are judged to have no force behind them do not score points.
Now I know we had problems in the past with the eastern block countries always voting for an eastern block boxer etc. but, after watching no less than six fights today I can honestly say that the system that they came up with to "fix" the bias problem is really lacking. The results of the scoring are fights that ended up 8-3, 6-2, 8-2 and even 3-1 in a fight between a Chinese fighter and Tunisian fighter. Now these are the low end but I can't imagine fighting for 4 rounds and scoring just 3 or even 1 punch. I saw fighters land beautiful combinations and counter punches but the scoring wouldn't change because 3 of the 5 judges didn't hit their button at the same time. And yes I saw better fighters that landed more effective punches lose more than once. If you get a chance to watch any Olympic boxing this time around do so, it is a treat to see young talented fighters give it their all in a win or go home style tourney for their country. But, as you watch the scoring unfold keep in mind it amateur boxing.

Broadway Boxing Gym a positive outlet for South L.A.

Courtesy of robert.lopez@latimes.com

Photographs courtesy of Michael Robinson Chavez / Los Angeles Times

By Robert J. Lopez, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
August 11, 2008

Like an aging prizefighter with an iron jaw, the Broadway Boxing Gym has taken its share of punches over the last three decades.

The gritty, no-frills South Los Angeles gym, once a beacon for world-class fighters, fell into decay in the late 1990s. Its membership declined, and transients and substance abusers often gathered outside the two-story building near Broadway and 108th Street.

In late 2003, with its longtime owner, Bill Slayton, losing a battle to bone cancer, the gym nearly closed. Sauchsee Larkins and her father, Melvin, bought it a few months later. It's been holding its own ever since, providing a sweaty sanctuary from the streets.

On a recent afternoon, as she showed a visitor the gym, Larkins said her goal was to provide a positive environment for young people in a community long scarred by poverty and crime.

"They can blow off steam when they come in here," she said. "They learn social skills and discipline."

The building buzzed with energy as boxers, some accompanied by their trainers, sparred in two rings, pounded on heavy leather bags and jumped rope to improve stamina and coordination. Sunlight streaked through open windows. And the sounds of buses and sirens mixed with thumps and grunts as hip-hop music blared from a radio.

Larkins, 53, shuffled between boxers, patting them on the back like a proud mother. She was never trained in the sport but has picked up the lingo of the ring.

"Show me some uppercuts, baby," she said to a 17-year-old. He was hitting a bag that weighed about 100 pounds and was wrapped in a thick leather ring to absorb the upward blows.

The gym has about 140 members, up from about 50 a decade earlier. They pay up to $40 a month to use the facilities, Larkins said.

The members include families who come to work out, up-and-coming amateur fighters who dream of glory and weathered professionals who hope for one more chance. Many live in South L.A., but some come from as far as Hemet.

Marquice Bruce, 17, who lives near Hoover and 105th streets, credited the gym with helping him stay away from the gangs that run in his neighborhood.

"This place is cool because it gets you away from the gangs and all the violence," Marquice said after punching the speed bag, a small balloon-shaped bag that hangs on a swivel and helps boxers improve eye and hand coordination.

"When you get in here," he said, "you just let go of all the anger you have."

Marquice will be a senior at the Sheriff's Leadership Academy, an alternative high school in Watts. He said he had an amateur record of 10 wins and two losses and that his goal was to make the 2012 Olympic team.

Los Angeles Police Department Deputy Chief Kenneth O. Garner worked out at the gym 20 years ago, when he was a patrol officer. He said it offers a place where young people can learn the value of hard work and channel their energy into something positive.

"The community needs that gym to flourish," said Garner, who was raised in South L.A.

Larkins said she and her father, a longtime South L.A. businessman and real estate agent, had been interested in buying a church down the street when another real estate agent showed them the brick building that housed the gym.

"We purchased it for the kids in the community," said Melvin Larkins, 75.

Sauchsee Larkins said they turned the place around by investing nearly $50,000. They bought new equipment, she said, and built shower facilities and a bathroom for women.

"They came here and put a lot of love into this place," said Derrick "Papa Bear" Harris, 43, a trainer who has used the gym for years. "They're definitely here for the community."

With its old wooden floor and fading plaster walls, the gym is a throwback to an era of cigar-chomping managers and boxers who had few resources but plenty of heart. For a while it helped make Los Angeles one of the world's boxing capitals. Yellowed pictures of greats such as Joe Louis, Sugar Ray Leonard and Ken Norton hang on a wall.

Norton was trained by Slayton, the gym's previous owner, who died of cancer in 2003.

"We've had a lot of good boxers come through here," Larkins said.

The gym was home to heavyweight amateur champion Henry Tillman, who won a gold medal at the 1984 Olympics. Another champ who trained there was Lamon Brewster, who won the World Boxing Organization heavyweight belt in 2004. He dedicated the victory to Slayton.

"You never know who might be the next champ," Larkins said, looking at two boxers battling in the ring.

The gym's boxers, she said, are like her family.

"It's like being a mother. All men need mothers. All children need mothers," she said. "Everyone wants someone who cares."

robert.lopez@latimes.com
Original Article can be found here

ESPN Ringside Remembers: Foreman Vs. Chuvalo

Bert Sugar looks back Foreman vs. Chuvalo

Check out George Foreman's sledgehammer punches. It's unbelievable that George Chuvalo never went down. One boxing's toughest men to ever step into the ring. Chuvalo's personal life has to be one of boxing's toughest story as well, losing three sons, two to drug overdoses and one to suicide, and then losing his wife to suicide as well. It doesn't get any more tragic or tougher than that.

Ray "Wild Red" Robles

The above two photos are of my uncle, Ray “Wild Red” Robles, I don’t know what weight he fought at but he was about 5’9” or 5’10”.Judging from his photos he could have been a welterweight or possibly a lightweight. He fought in or around Merced, Stockton and possibly Fresno. He was born in Kansas but was raised in El Paso, Texas until he was about sixteen or seventeen years old. He hopped freight trains and hitchhiked to Northern California, somewhere around Sacramento. He got a job picking fruit and because he spoke both Spanish and English, he ended up with a foreman’s position. He worked alongside the Filipinos, Okies and Mexican American fruitpickers. He eventually sent for his family; mother, siblings, etc. At some point they moved to a two bedroom cabin in Sonora and he found work as a lumberjack.

I don’t know what year he started fighting but according to his son, my cousin David Robles, he fought in Los Angeles a few times and believes it was at the Olympic, according to what his mother and some other family members recall, but it’s vague at best. He may have had a dozen or so fights.

In the late 1940's and early 1950’s , my grandmother owned a cafe/bar and this is where he met my aunt Beatrice (Bea). They lived in an apartment on Macy Street, with their two sons, Ray and David, in the area that is now the Los Angeles County jail facilities. “Wild Red” eventually became one of the regulars at a local bar. He would eventually get into a fight with a Russian immigrant at the bar and was stabbed to death with a butcher knife. According to witnesses he was dead before he hit the ground. A quick thinking bar patron wrote down the license number of the car, as it sped away, using the cue chalk to write on the sidewalk. "Wild Red" Robles died on his son Davids's birhday, November 6 1953 or 54.

This is about all that is known about Ray “Wild Red” Robles. Perhaps someone will remember the name, or remember seeing him fight. If you have any information please contact me.

Tony "The Tiger" Baltazar vs Danny Vargas

Popular Los Angeles area fighter and former contender Tony "The Tiger" Baltazar vs Danny Vargas at the Convention Center in Albuquerque, New Mexico March 10, 1990

A Retired Sportswriter Remembers Jerry Quarry by William O'Neill

This article reproduced with the expressed permission of Author Bill O'Neill

I met Jerry Quarry in the spring of 1965, a few days after he had turned pro by decisioning a veteran trial horse named Gene Hamilton on the Vicente Saldivar-Raul Rojas featherweight title card in Los Angeles. Jerry didn't look particularly devastating against Hamilton‹but just a few weeks earlier, he had stood the boxing world on its cauliflower ear by scoring five consecutive, ten-count knockouts in winning the National Golden Gloves heavyweight title in Kansas City.

To tell the truth, Jerry was responsible for getting me back into sportswriting, and back into boxing, after a ten-year hiatus during which time I did my best to give up journalism and go straight. I was living in Whittier, earning an honest living as a supervisor in a household products manufacturing company--and then along came the most exciting white heavyweight since Rocky Marciano.

I first saw Jerry in an amateur bout against All-Navy Lightheavyweight Champion Jimmy Rosette, in 1964. He won, against a very skilled southpaw, but failed to impress. Then I saw him beat a really tough kid named Clay Hodges, for the right to represent Los Angeles in the National Golden Gloves, early in 1965. It was a tumultuous brawl, with Jerry winning by the narrowest of margins. It was perhaps the most exciting amateur heavyweight fight ever seen in L.A., with both young men displaying tremendous heart; but, truth to tell, neither looked like a future world title contender.

Thus it came as a shock to me, along with just about everyone else, when the strapping 185-pounder who had been changing tires at the Greyhound Bus Depot went to Kansas City and devastated everything in sight. A few weeks of intense training and instruction from new trainer Bill Slayton had transformed him, somewhat mystically, from a free-swinging amateur into a deadly fighting machine.

So here was a kid with an Irish name, suddenly the hottest prospect in Southern California boxing--and he lived less than a mile from where I was raised, in South Downey. It occurred to to me that Jerry Quarry just might be the second coming of Jack Dempsey; and if he was, I wanted to be there to witness it. And I wanted to make his acquaintance, to follow his journey first-hand. But how? No problem. Through journalism, of course.

And so it was that I called my friend Mickey Davies at the Olympic Boxing Club, got Jerry's phone number, and made an appointment to interview him for a free lance magazine story. I found Jerry living with his wife, the former Mary Kathleen Casey, in a small apartment just off Downey Avenue, in Paramount. They were a happy, enthusiastic couple, soon to become parents for the first time. (That first son, Jerry Lyn Quarry, is a slightly-smaller replica of his father, and is today a knowledgeable boxing historian and a friend of mine.) But let's get back to 1965:

The young man who answered the door at that little apartment in Paramount didn't look all that imposing, for a heavyweight boxer. It was his first magazine interview, and he might have been a bit nervous about it; but he exuded confidence. He had the ruggedly handsome features of a matinee idol, with the only negative in his appearance being a slight overlap of his two upper front teeth. (A fighter named Memphis Al Jones would take care of that little problem two years, later, in San Francisco--knocking out those two teeth and almost de-railing the Quarry Express, before himself being rendered unconscious in five rounds.)

Anyway, the free-lance article sold, to a miserable publication known as Boxing International. Much to my dismay, they turned my beautiful prose around, changing "Last of the Irish Heavyweights" into "At Last! An Irish Heavyweight!" But I was back into journalism, and within a few months had established a "syndicated" boxing column in the Huntington Park Daily Signal and the Whittier Daily News. And I was writing and selling other magazine stories, and sitting ringside at the fights and other athletic events--and, of course, swilling a lot of free booze, just like a regular sportswriter--all thanks, in a way, to Jerry Quarry!

I followed Jerry's rise to fistic prominence, doing my best to conceal my partisanship for him behind a screen of journalistic objectivity. I wanted to jump up and down and cheer for him--but such behavior would be very unbecoming of a sportswriter. So I cheered silently, while doing my best to give the outward appearance of a Jim Murray.

It was during Jerry's first year as a pro that I became acquainted with the rest of what became known as the "Fighting Quarry Clan." Jerry was the second-eldest of eight children (four boys, four girls) in a poor but proud, very rambunctious working-class family. Actually, the Quarrys were not all that different from other large young families in that place and time--except that their boxing connection brought them frequent media attention.

Jerry's parents, Jack and Arwanda, became known as "Ma and Pa Quarry," and their family was dubbed "The Quarrelsome Quarrys." Jack co-managed Jerry along with friend and former neighbor Johnny Flores, while Arwanda was the long-suffering earth mother whose love and compassion held the family together through good times and bad.

The four Quarry sisters and Jerry's little wife were all knockouts, which added to the family's high profile.

Jack wanted his sons to be boxers, as he himself had been in his youth. He was openly disappointed when Jimmy, the eldest, became disenchanted with the game. "Jimmy could've been better than Jerry or Mike, if he'd just stayed with it," Jack once told me--implying, at least, that Jimmy had let him down. And Jack was not alone in his estimation of Jimmy's fighting ability. Others who were around at the time have told me that Jimmy, in the words of Terry Molloy, "coulda been a contendah." But strangely, he did not enjoy getting hit on the head; and more importantly, when he looked around and observed what had happened to some guys around the gym who had stayed in the ring too long, he decided to do something else--pretty much anything else--for a living. Thus he saved himself from the fate that was to befall his three brothers, later on.

Jerry ran off a string of impressive wins at the onset of his pro career, before being held to a draw by the very competent Tony Doyle in his thirteenth start. Along the way, he picked up a valuable "souvenir"--a hulking, 240-pound , loosey-goosey Italian named Big Dave Centi. Big Dave was Jerry's opponent in his fourth bout. He managed to last the six-round distance while taking a terrific pounding; and thereafter, he attached himself to the Quarry camp more or less permanently, as sparring partner, court jester, and good luck charm. Ever the boxing historian, I considered it a good omen. John L. Sullivan, on his way up, picked up vanquished opponent John Flood; and now the Quarrys had their own John Flood, in Big Dave Centi.

Veteran contender Eddie Machen handed Jerry his first loss, in July of 1966. It turned out to be a good thing, and a bad thing. On the good side, it taught Jerry a lesson about conditioning. He won the first five rounds handily, actually outclassing one of the finest boxers of his era. But then, having neglected his roadwork in preparing for the fight, the young phenom began to run out of gas. Too tired to continue the pace he had set, he got whacked around pretty good in the late rounds and lost the decision.

On the bad side, the Quarry braintrust of Jerry, his dad, and Johnny Flores decided to fire Trainer Bill Slayton and hire someone who could work with Jerry full time and see to it that he did his roadwork. That someone, for a time, turned out to be Johnny Flores. I always felt that Slayton got a raw deal. Had he been allowed to stay aboard as Jerry's trainer, things might have gone a lot easier in the years that followed.

The big money began to flow in when Jerry drew with former champ Floyd Patterson, in 1967, and it continued for the next ten years. Not really big money, like some boxers are earning nowadays; but enough to support a fine lifestyle.

Two factors kept the Quarrys out of the really tall pesos: the fact that Jerry fell short of winning the heavyweight title; and the fierce resistance of father and son to committing themselves to any particular promoter. Aileen Eaton of the Olympic Boxing Club in Los Angeles considered it a personal affront that Jerry did not sign an exclusive contract with her. So did Don King, of Don King Promotions; and so did other, lesser purveyors of the pugilistic art.

Along the way, a lot of things happened in Jerry's personal life that I am loathe to discuss. It is a matter of record that he had three seemingly happy marriages that ended in divorce; a bunch of great-sounding investments that went bad; and, in the end, a series of "comeback" attempts that were extremely ill-advised. The guys who led him into the investments and the ridiculous returns to the ring all disappeared. And the kid who had everything ended up with nothing.

But it was a beautiful run, while it lasted. Jerry loved people, and he loved the celebrity that his fighting ability brought him. He was generous with his family, with his friends, and with his time. He rarely, if ever, turned down an autograph request. He was a notoriously soft touch for a hand-out to people he had never seen before, and would never see again--unless, of course, they came around looking for yet another hand-out.

The fighting ace of the Quarry family loved to dance, to sing, to recite poetry, and to make people feel good. He was a major "party animal," with at least a moderate taste for the booze and the night life--but would not condone anyone taking the Lord's name in vain in his presence. In that respect, he seemed to emulate his friend and hero, Elvis Presley.

Oh yes, something else about Jerry: he was a Mama's Boy, all the way--and was very up-front about it. When Jerry walked into a room in which his mother was present, hers were the first eyes he sought, and she was the first person to whom he spoke. He and Arwanda were soulmates, and best friends. When his parents divorced, Jerry sided with Arwanda and had little time for his father thereafter.

It goes without saying that after ten years in the ring, Jerry should have walked away and gone into some other field. He had taken some bad beatings (most notably from Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali) and his ring skills had faded, but he still had his intelligence and his health. There were a thousand things he could have done, and done well. Yet the lure of ring riches and glory was still there, and he kept mounting those recurring "comebacks." I saw little of Jerry during those years; but I am reasonably certain that it was during those years that the thousands of head blows he had taken over the course of his boxing career began to take their toll.

What most people fail to realize about boxing is that the punches taken in actual contests comprise only a small part of the over-all head trauma that a fighter endures. If he's a great fighter, as Jerry certainly was, he gets through a lot of bouts without being hit a whole lot. It is in the gym that the punishment builds up. A boxer in training for a fight may spar four to six rounds almost every day for several weeks--getting whacked on the head by a professional who does it for a living. The gloves may be oversize, but the thumps are hard and frequent. And they are cumulative.

Apparently, Jerry didn't see his brain damage coming. By the time he finally realized and admitted that he was damaged, it was too late to do anything about it. Repeated concussions, even when they do not render one unconscious, cause damaged cells and leaking fluid within the brain. It's all downhill from there; there is no cure, and no turning back.

When Jerry became cognizant of his growing dementia, he felt betrayed by his sport. Kid brother Mike was already showing the effects of damage traceable to his ring career; and the youngest of the Quarrys, brother Robert, seemed headed down the same path.

It was in long, late-night, brother-to-brother soul-bearings that the two senior Quarry brothers laid the foundation for The Jerry Quarry Foundation for Dementia Pugilistica. His personal resources pretty much depleted, Jerry wanted to at least have a hand in the establishment of an organization whose twin purposes would be: 1) to provide comfort and financial assistance to individuals who have suffered brain damage in contact sports; and 2) to alert young athletes, especially boxers, to the dangers of cumulative head trauma.

That organization is now in existence, and it bears Jerry Quarry's name. If it continues to grow, and if its objectives are indeed met, it will be a fitting legacy to The Greatest Fighter Never to Hold the Heavyweight Title.

# William O¹Neill, now retired, is a former amateur boxing champion, sportswriter, and President (in 1984) of the World Boxing Hall of Fame

Keeny Teran