A Decade-long quest to find Rocky Lockridge

Courtesy: The Star-Ledger

by Todd Schmerler/For The Star-Ledger June 27, 2009 9:51PM

It's hard to pinpoint exactly why I became fascinated with Rocky Lockridge.

Maybe it was because, like me, he was from New Jersey. Maybe it was because he was a consummate underdog, at 5' 5" short even for a featherweight. Maybe it was because he was on the undercard of one of the first fight cards I attended at Ice World in Totowa and won by first-round knockout, then autographed my program afterward.

Whatever the reason, I was a teenager in the mid-1980s as Rocky rose from local attraction to title contender to world champion. For a while, I was all about boxing and all about Rocky Lockridge, regaling bored high school friends with stories about how great he was.

Take Sugar Ray Leonard, Marvin Hagler and Larry Holmes, I would say. I'll take Rocky.

Ten years ago I decided to look him up, perhaps for a feature story, but also out of curiosity. Whatever happened to Rocky, I wondered, who would have been about 40 at the time. Working in the sports department, I figured it would be easy to find him. The Internet turned up no relevant information so I turned to the Lexis Nexis system, which reveals phone numbers and addresses for anyone who has applied for almost anything -- driver's license, mortgage, even a credit card.

Nothing came up.

I gave up and moved on to something else, but Rocky stayed in the back of my mind. Once a year I would go back to Lexis Nexis, back to the Internet, hoping for a nugget of information that would lead me to Rocky.

Year after year I came up empty, and after close to a decade of wondering, I gave up.

Then, last year, a breakthrough.

I had joined the social networking craze known as Facebook to get back in touch with some old friends, and just for kicks I did a search for Rocky Lockridge.

Bingo -- sort of. A Ricky Lockridge came up, located in the D.C. area. Ricky was Rocky's given name, so I sent a message to Ricky's inbox, asking if he knew Rocky.

The answer came back: "He's my dad. Do you know Rocky Lockridge?"

I let him know that I was a reporter looking for Rocky to write a story about him, and I would love to get his phone number, or at least his whereabouts -- at least what state he lived in. I didn't hear back for about a month, but then Ricky Lockridge let me in on what was going on.

He had not heard a word from his father in 15 years, but just a few weeks prior to my making contact, Ricky had heard from a mail carrier in Camden named Orlando Pettigrew that Rocky was homeless, living on the streets of Camden. Ricky put me in touch with Orlando.

A couple weeks later I drove down to Camden to meet Rocky. Orlando told me his story, that he had heard that a world boxing champion from the '80s was living on the streets of his city, and went and found him, helped him, gave him food, tried to get him into a shelter and tracked down and contacted his son.

Orlando, who seems to know everyone in Camden, found Rocky for me. Though dirty and hungry, Rocky was gracious and polite. He had been on the streets for 10 years and walked with a four-pronged cane after suffering a stroke, he said, three years prior.

He allowed me to interview him for over an hour. Afterward I went home, thinking about how nice it is just to have a home to go to.

Courtesy: The Star-Ledger

Rocky Lockridge Vs. Roger Mayweather KO-1

WBA World Super Featherweight Title

February 26, 1984

Civic Center

Beaumont, Texas

A really great day in the life of Rocky Lockridge

Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge living on streets of Camden

by Todd Schmerler/For The Star-Ledger

Sunday June 28, 2009, 12:30 AM

John O'Boyle/The Star-LedgerRocky Lockridge sits on a street corner in Camden. The former boxing champion is homeless and living on the streets of Camden.

RELATED CONTENT: watch Lockridge's 1984 victory over Roger Mayweather via YouTube

Rocky Lockridge sits high on a stoop, giving himself a lofty view of the intersection of 7th Street and Chestnut in Camden.

There's a convenience store on the corner, but it's not drawing as much interest as the woman openly dealing drugs, shouting, "Five dollars, five dollars," to anyone who passes.

Former boxing champ Rocky Lockridge is homeless in Camden

In the midst of it all, a brown sedan stops, the car idling in the middle of the street. A middle-age man gets out and quick-steps to the top of the stoop to greet Lockridge with a fist bump and a quick man-hug. After a few quiet words, he gets back into the car and drives off.

Others take turns approaching Lockridge to exchange pleasantries. One is a 20-something girl named Laquicha Smith, who seems excited to tell an outsider about the special man sitting on the cement steps.

"That's Rocky. He's the champ," she says. "He's still got it."

The Champ looks out across the familiar street corner, his head held high. But his face is swollen by scar tissue around the eyes and more than one tooth is missing. A silver metal four-prong walking cane he now needs to walk is balanced across his knees.

His fingers tremble as he lifts a cigarette to his lips and his voice is raspy and hard to make out.

"Everybody kisses me, calls out, 'Champ, Champ, Champ,' " Lockridge says. "I get joy being around them because they're going through the struggle, same as me."

The struggle is living on the streets of Camden, where Lockridge has been for more than 10 years. It has been a long way to fall for a two-time world boxing champion.

Lockridge, who climbed the rankings while fighting out of Ice World in Totowa from 1978-81, has no money. His body tilts to one side when he walks, the result of a stroke he says he suffered three years ago. His scraggly, graying beard makes him seem far older than 50, the age he reached on Jan. 30.

He admits he has a more than two-decades-old drug problem -- "I do quite a bit of drinkin' and druggin'," he says -- and that he's been estranged from his ex-wife and kids for nearly that long.

John O'Boyle/The Star-LedgerRocky Lockridge stands on a street corner in Camden.

But he won't take all the blame for his predicament. He blames the boxing industry for much of it.

"I'm bitter. I'm very bitter," he says, the words coming out slowly and unsteadily. "I made some mistakes, a whole lot of mistakes, but they were beyond my imagination. The blow that was put upon me was harder to take than the blows, or any blow, for that matter, that I received in the fight game."

It didn't have to be like this for Lockridge.

A former world champion suffering financial difficulties is hardly shocking, considering the history of boxing, lack of formal education of most fighters and the absence of a pension or retirement plan from any of the sport's governing bodies.

Lockridge was different.

Particularly bright, articulate and good looking, Lockridge was a natural in front of the cameras and seemed to enjoy his time in the spotlight. After relocating from Tacoma, Wash., at the age of 19 in 1978, Lockridge lived in Paterson as he came up through the ranks, fighting for Main Events, an enterprise of the Duva family, with his early fights at Ice World, a cavernous converted skating rink in Totowa.

Lockridge was the rare fighter who considered a post-boxing career. He looked studious, wearing wide, horn-rimmed glasses, and took classes in business at William Paterson University in Wayne for two years.

Kathy Duva, now the CEO and then the publicist for Main Events, remembers Lockridge being different.

"Rocky was always a low-key person with an easygoing personality," she says. "He was quiet, articulate, a wonderful guy."

After two unsuccessful attempts to win a featherweight title in the early '80s, Lockridge moved up to super featherweight and the extra five pounds suited him. He won a couple of big fights and then knocked out Roger Mayweather -- the uncle and trainer of current superstar Floyd Mayweather Jr. -- in the first round to win the WBA title on Feb. 26, 1984.

John O'Boyle/The Star-LedgerA Fight Game magazine featuring Rocky Lockridge.

The Mayweather fight, a one-punch knockout, lasted only 91 seconds and launched him to a new level in boxing circles. Lockridge was 25 with a record of 32-3.

He and his wife, Carolyn, took his winnings and moved from Paterson to Mount Laurel, a tony suburb of Philadelphia in South Jersey. Carolyn gave birth to twins Ricky and Lamar on August 23, 1984.

The future was bright.

Boxing careers usually are short. So when Lockridge lost his title to Wilfredo Gomez in 1985, then lost a year later to Julio Cesar Chavez, no one would have been surprised if Lockridge had reached the end.

He hadn't.

He won his next two fights and earned another title shot, stopping Barry Michael after eight rounds in England in 1987 to win the IBF super featherweight title.

A year later he lost his title in a unanimous decision to Tony Lopez in a brutal 12-round bout that was named 1988 Fight of the Year by Ring Magazine. He would lose the equally bloody rematch a year later, then retire after one last victory in 1989.

As bad as his beatings were in the ring, the abuse he put his body through when he was out of it may have been worse.

After each fight, Lockridge says he would party "two weekends." He snorted cocaine and abused alcohol, drinking "whatever was around," he says.

When he needed money, he says he would ask the Duvas for it and they would always give it to him. Now, he says they shouldn't have been so forthcoming.

"Not only was I not in control financially, but it really didn't matter to me at the time," he said. "I wanted the best for myself and my loved ones. There was never any resistance in terms of saying, 'Champ, you're out of order with the financial thing.' It is what it is. It is what it is now."

Lockridge says he was "raped financially," but there's no evidence of that. Kathy Duva said Lockridge made money, but not the kind one could expect to live on forever. Even Lockridge admits his biggest payday came from the fight with Chavez, and that was only $200,000, he estimates.

"He had a family, children, divorce, he bought a house," Kathy Duva says. "The money goes away. People who abuse drugs end up in desperate straits frequently. That's a shame, but it's a choice they make."

After 2 1/2 years out of the ring, Lockridge attempted an ill-fated comeback at age 33 under new management based in Washington.

The comeback lasted just two fights -- both losses.

His final record: 44 wins, 36 knockouts, 9 losses and $0 in the bank.

Rocky, Carolyn and their two boys had moved back to Tacoma a year and a half after Lockridge's original retirement, in 1991, but the family didn't stay together for long.

Rocky and Carolyn split up shortly thereafter -- partially, Lockridge says, due to the stress of being broke and partially because he didn't know what to do without boxing. Drug addiction, Lockridge admits, may have played a part, too. Carolyn Lockridge could not be reached for comment.

In 1993, at age 34, Lockridge moved back to Camden. Alone.

"I could not handle not being involved in the fight game, not being a fighter or even partaking in the fight game as a trainer and/or manager," he says. "My wife, Carolyn, we both were somewhat slapped in the face and she realized Rocky couldn't handle the blow, what is he going to do? I just didn't know how to handle that. Her and I both began to see that we weren't going to be the team that we at one time had been -- inseparable."

Lockridge took a job working for William Jones & Son, Inc. in Camden, a drum and barrel company on Liberty Street, where he cleaned and painted barrels for $8 per hour starting in January 1994.

Shortly thereafter, he was arrested for burglary -- the first time -- but was sentenced to five years probation, according to court records. Three years later, he was arrested for burglary again, this time serving 27 months before being released in July of 1999.

He hasn't worked since.

When he got out of jail, he found he had nowhere to go and ended up on the streets.

"I don't know exactly what happened or how it happened or what happened at that particular time in my life," he says.

One thing he does remember is going back to using drugs.

"I knew a lot of people who I partied with here in Camden after a victory," he says.

Lockridge says that if you're going to be homeless, Camden is the place to be. There are many different places that will give you a free meal, many shelters that will put you up for a night.

Lockridge lives on the $140 a month and food stamps he receives from the government -- as well as pocket change he gets from panhandling. He says the stroke he suffered three years ago makes it difficult to walk, no less hold a job.

John O'Boyle/The Star-LedgerRocky Lockridge walks along a street in Camden.

He sleeps in shelters occasionally but admits he's had issues committing to a shelter because the curfew is sometimes as early as 7 p.m. Lately, he has slept in a mosquito-infested abandoned row house around the block from his regular corner.

And he continues to have troubles with the law, though his last arrest -- for criminal trespassing in May -- resulted only in community service.

Lockridge's troubles are similar to issues many other former fighters face. In many cases, some feel it's inevitable.

Former middleweight Alex Ramos, a friend of Lockridge's who founded the Retired Boxers Foundation in 1998, says boxers aren't equipped to handle life out of the ring. They are not trained in financial responsibility and, unlike other sports, there is no union to turn to for help.

"Boxers don't come from the Ivy Leagues and Beverly Hills, they come from ghettos and Third World countries, looking to get themselves out of poverty," he says. "A lot of times it's sad what happens to a lot of fighters when they retire."

Scott Frank, who fought out of Ice World at the same time as Lockridge, says promoters and managers (in Lockridge's case, the Duvas) should be responsible for putting aside money for when their boxers can't fight anymore.

"Lou always said Rocky was like a son to him, so how do you do that to your son?" Frank says. "He made enough money that they should have put some away for him, they should have taken care of him.

"What's $200 a week for life for a guy like Lou? Rocky fought his heart out for him."

Duva says he would be open to offering Lockridge a job training boxers -- but only if he stays clean and sober.

Orlando Pettigrew, a mail carrier and Camden resident, has befriended Lockridge in the last year after hearing that a former world champ was living on the streets. He looks out for Lockridge.

"He's a nice guy, he just needs to find his way again," Pettigrew says. "People call him The Champ, they greet him, hug him. People still look up to him. Any time I see him, that's what I see.

"It has to be hard, going from living in Mount Laurel to living here."

Lockridge doesn't mind losing his house as much as losing his family.

As he sits on his stoop, smoking a cigarette, he talks about why he is finally ready to turn his life around, find a place to live, give up drinking and drugs.

"I'm going to get it back together and say no to drugs," he said. "I've got a family that I want to spend some time with 'til my time is up on Planet Earth. I'm on a mission now, perhaps even greater than my mission before. My kids need me in their lives, experience being the best teacher."

John O'Boyle/The Star-LedgerRocky Lockridge (left) jokes with his friend Charles Braxton on a street corner in Camden.

Lockridge says he recently was tracked down by his son, Ricky, now 24, who lives in the Washington, D.C., area near Lamar. The twins were surprised to find out a few months ago that they have a half-brother, Ramond Dixon, 22, born in Camden but who now also lives in the D.C. area. The three have become close -- but they remain distant from their father.

"I remember spending time with him when I was 3 or 4, but he was never there at a steady pace," Ramond, known as "Ron-Ron," says. "Even though my dad wasn't there for me growing up, I never really had harsh feelings. I never was really upset. As a man now I can see that people make mistakes."

Ricky Lockridge has mixed feelings.

"It's sad. It hurts," he says about his dad's predicament. "But I never lost confidence in my dad, he's a strong person."

Lockridge says reuniting with his boys is his inspiration for cleaning up his life.

"Now I'm ready for this, mentally and physically, to get me back on track," Lockridge says. "I am in dire need of that kind of support and I want it. I've been knocked down. Now I'm finally ready to get back up."

The Retired Boxers Foundation says it will help him -- like his kids and Duva -- but only will do so if he gives up drugs and alcohol and sticks in a shelter.

"Rocky would be eligible for supplemental security income, which would provide a monthly check, housing and Medi-Cal, but one of the requirements is that he is sober," Jacquie Richardson, executive director of the RBF, says. "Boxers don't always want to accept help. Beyond brain injuries, the shame is overwhelming. They have regrets about what they didn't do, the mistakes they made, and it's really hard to forgive themselves. It keeps them hiding out where they are."

Lockridge says the need to see his sons and help them avoid the mistakes he made is the motivating force to clean up and accept the help of outsiders.

"Edumacation is the best occupation," he jokes. "Knowing how to handle your money, stay educated in all the areas so perhaps what happened to me will never happen to anyone else.

"It hurts. It hurts. In more ways than one, it hurts. How can you be a great man, father and husband ... how can you be a great champion and not be a great father, husband? Dad? It hurts. But I'm still alive. I can't make up for the lost time, but I can just get there, be there, spend the rest of the time with my wife and children and give them the time that I have left."

The Ring (1952)

By Randy De La O

The Ring, directed by Kurt Neumann, is a simply told tale of a young Mexican American from East Los Angeles, Tommy Cantanios (Lalo Rios) who stumbles into the world of boxing after being observed in a street fight by fight manager Pete Ganusa, (Gerald Mohr). Tommy takes the moniker Tommy Kansas as his fighting name and begins a career in boxing. After being heralded by both his younger brother and his cronies, he goes as far as his talent will take him, which is not far at all, and he begins a losing streak from which he cannot recover. Because he is fighting as much for his family as himself, Tommy refuses to quit boxing, hoping to make enough money to help his father start a business.

Though this movie will never win any awards it is notable for many reasons; first there is the early appearance of legendary actress and entertainer Rita Moreno, as Tommy’s girlfriend, Lucy Gomez, who is dead set against him fighting. Secondly, the movie attempts to tackle the subject of racism and bigotry, sometimes accurately and sometimes awkwardly. Thirdly, for afficionados of early Los Angeles, the opening shot of the Los Angeles City Hall, once the tallest building in the Los Angeles skyline, will evoke memories of an earlier time. Finally, there is the appearance of two of Los Angeles’ most popular fighters from the 1940’s and 1950’s, Art Aragon and Keeny Teran. Teran is prominent in many of the gym scenes. The gym itself is the old Los Angeles’ Teamsters Gym and the fight scenes are from the long gone Hollywood Legion Stadium. Aragon is the final opponent for Tommy.

After a turn of events in which Tommy finds himself as a substitute in a high profile fight against Art Aragon, who plays himself,, Tommy is beaten into submission and decides to retire. The movie reaches the climax of it’s morality tale when Tommy sees his younger brother shadowboxing, hoping to be a fighter himself one day. Tommy takes the gloves and rushes to the incinerator (remember those?) and burns his boxing gear. Metaphorically putting an end to his career and his brothers hopes of following in his footsteps.

Victor Ortiz vs Marcos Maidana: TKO 6 round

Staples Center, Los Angeles

June 27, 2009

Photos Courtesy of HBO Boxing

By Randy De La O

On Victor Ortiz:
Ortiz quit. During the interview with Max Kellerman he said "I don't deserve to get beat up like this". I'm not so sure I understand. No one deserves it but is a possibility when you decide to step into the ring. Every boxer knows that. He also said "I'm not going out on my back for anyone" (I'm paraphrasing).

Ortiz was in a tough fight to be sure, in fact it was a great fight, and he was giving a good account of himself. He came back from a knockdown early on and had Maidona down three times during the fight. The truth is Ortiz lost his will. This is not a case of a veteran fighter at the end of his career deciding he no longer had it. A lot of fighters have reached the end of their careers sitting on the stool unable, either physically of mentally, to continue. This is fighter being put to the test at the appropriate time in his career and he had no qualms about quitting.

Later, when the fight was over and people where milling around the ring, Sugar Shane Mosley was talking with Ortiz, trying to encourage him. A fighter like Mosley could never understand a fighter like Ortiz. Mosley would and has gone down swinging. If Golden Boy Promotions and boxing in general were pinning their hopes for the future of boxing on Victor Ortiz, they better look elsewhere, he's not their man.



On Marcos Maidana:
Maidana proved himself to be a fighter of means and substance. Maidana came back from three serious knockdowns to beat the favored Ortiz in a battle of attrition and wills. He literally took the fight out of his opponent. It will go down in the record book as having been stopped by referee Raul Caiz at 46 seconds into the sixth round but those of us who saw the fight know it was not Caiz that ended the fight.

Movie Trailer: After The Last Round

http://www.afterthelastround.com/

GREAT PUERTO RICAN FIGHTERS By William Dettloff

03 Aug 1977, New York, New York, USA --- 8/3/1977-New York, NY- World junior welterweight champ Wilfredo Benitez of Puerto Rico strolls around ring with both arms raised in jubilation after retaining the crown with a 15th round TKO over challenger Jose Ramon Guerro Chavez at Madison Square Garden 8/3. Referee Arthur Mercanto stops the bout. Chavez is a native of Venezuela now living in Montreal. --- Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

By William Dettloff
Courtesy of HBO Boxing

Miguel Cotto is the latest in a long line of wonderful prizefighters from Puerto Rico. Like the best of his compatriots, he is highly diverse; when facing a puncher, he can move and box with the best of them. When he's the puncher, there may not be a more dangerous young guy at 140 pounds. He's young still and growing, but shows poise beyond his years and has consistently faced stiff competition. Will he be remembered among the great Puerto Rican fighters when he's done? Only time will tell, of course, and he's got a very tough act to follow. Here's one man's list, presented in alphabetical order, of the best fighters Puerto Rico has produced.

Wilfred Benitez
Benitez was the best defensive fighter of his era, and not by a little. You just had to see him fight once to know it. If you saw him boxing rings around the great Antonio Cervantes, at 17 years old for cripes' sake, or Carlos Palomino or Roberto Duran, you knew how special he was. He hated to train and loved to party but if you want to see one of the smoothest defensive fighters of the last 50 years, get a tape of prime Benitez. He was pure magic.

Hector Camacho
There are those who still don't take Camacho seriously because of his persona and ring style, but the Camacho who tore through a pair of divisions in the early 1980s was a very good fighter. He beat Rafael Limon, Rafael Solis, Jose Luis Ramirez, Freddie Roach and others. Even later on he was still too good for Ray Mancini, Vinny Pazienza, Howard Davis and Greg Haugen (he also lost to Haugen). And he proved his heart once and for all when he lasted the distance with Julio Cesar Chavez, despite taking a terrific beating.

Esteban DeJesus
DeJesus wasn't only the first guy to beat Roberto Duran. He beat a lot of talented fighters, such as Ray Lampkin and Johnny Gant and Alfonso Frazier. Duran will forever overshadow him, but what's terrible about being second best to maybe the greatest lightweight ever? Of DeJesus' five career losses, two were to Duran, one was to Antonio Cervantes, and another was in his very last fight, to Saoul Mamby. That's nothing to be ashamed of.

Carlos DeLeon
DeLeon is another guy many don't take seriously, but he got a lot accomplished in the cruiserweight division. He won a piece of the title four different times and beat about every decent cruiserweight there was throughout the 1980s. It wasn't a very deep division and DeLeon wasn't especially dominant, but he was a very stubborn, skilled fighter who fought at the top of his division for nearly a decade. What more can you ask a fighter to do?

Wilfredo Gomez
Gomez was a magnificent puncher with underrated skills and a cannon of a right hand. He still holds the record for title defenses at junior featherweight with 17, and also owns the fourth longest knockout streak ever, at 32 straight. He stopped 88% of his opponents and fought the best of a brilliant era. It's true that in the biggest fight of his career he crashed against Salvador Sanchez, and Azumah Nelson did a job on him too later on. But at his best, Gomez was a 122-pound Godzilla.

Carlos Ortiz
Ortiz couldn't punch like Gomez or box like Benitez but on his day almost no one put the two together the way he did. When he had to move and box he did, like when he decisioned and dethroned the power-punching Joe Brown to win the lightweight title. But he liked to punch better than anything and when he did it right, which was most of the time, he was a sight. There wasn't a better or more fluid combination puncher in the business when Ortiz was in his groove. He could do it all.

Edwin Rosario
In an era that was full of big punchers, Rosario may have been the best. His right cross produced many of the most chilling knockouts of the period and was a feared weapon. The left hook was good, too. A single hook to the point of Hector Camacho's chin in their close bout turned Camacho into a safety-first boxer for the rest of his career. "Chapo" was flawed, but most of the time his power made up for it. It was enough to get him elected posthumously into the boxing hall of fame this year.

Jose Torres
Torres' one-punch, body-shot kayo of Willie Pastrano in 1965 is reflective of the kind of fighter he was early on: calculating, efficient, and a brutal puncher. He softened somewhat as a champion - he admits the drive to defend the title wasn't as great as the drive to win it - but at his best he was superb. Neither all puncher nor all boxer, he could do most things very well and is today one of the game's most respected elder statesmen.

Felix Trinidad
Things ended badly for Trinidad, but they do for most fighters. He had a heck of a run. From the time he knocked out Maurice Blocker in 1993 to his controversial decision win over Oscar De La Hoya in '99, there wasn't a more dominant champion in the game. He was deadly as a welterweight and even the move to 154 didn't diminish his power -ask Fernando Vargas or David Reid. His destruction of William Joppy, a full-fledged middleweight, was breathtaking. When you're talking about great Puerto Rican fighters, Trinidad is right near the top.

Wilfredo Vazquez
Vazquez was a three-division titleholder and one of the tougher featherweights around for the better part of the 1990s. He's one of a handful of fighters from the era with more than 50 career wins, and scored 41 knockouts by the time he was done. No one will ever mistake him for one of the great featherweights ever, but Vazquez did very well for himself with solid skills and a killer of a left hook. It's possible that he might have wrung out a few more wins had not the more athletically gifted Naseem Hamed come along when he did.

THE GREAT MEXICAN FIGHTERS By Ron Borges

By Ron Borges
Courtesy of HBO Boxing

Any listing of the top 10 anything is as much a generational question as a historical one. Your father's champion is quite seldom your own, with the obvious exception of Sugar Ray Robinson, who is everyone's champion unless they simply have no idea what they are talking about.

Putting aside the nearly universal acceptance of Robinson as the all-time best pound-for-pound fighter in the world, there are many gray heads who will tell you, for example, that what Joe Louis would have done to Muhammad Ali would have been criminal assault, just as there is a generation today that believes Roy Jones, Jr. would have blasted out everyone in his path regardless of what era they came from or that Lennox Lewis would have destroyed Rocky Marciano despite the fact no one ever even beat Marciano let alone beat him down.

Regardless of who you like, once an all-time top 10 is established over time it becomes increasingly difficult for more recent practitioners to fight their way onto the list, a fate present super featherweight champion Marco Antonio Barrera is wrestling with as a footnote to his preparations for a Sept. 16 rematch against Rocky Juarez. Barrera is without question one of the top Mexican fighters of his time and arguably of all-time, having won world titles at super featherweight, featherweight and super bantamweight while holding a 2-1 record against Erik Morales, his major challenger for modern day Mexican supremacy. But does he fit anywhere on a top 10 list of all-time Mexican fighters?

That is a debate that is likely to rage for some time, with devotees of Julio Cesar Chavez putting him atop any list of Mexico's all-time best fighters and then going from there. But even that point is debatable. Not for someone like six-time world champion Oscar De La Hoya perhaps, but ask his father, Joel, and you might get a different response. And if you put the question to one of De La Hoya's former trainers, Jesus Rivero, you'd get a different argument entirely, which is what makes these kind of debates fascinating fodder for a night of drinking tequila sunrises until sunrise.

"I would have to say Chavez,'' De La Hoya said when asked to name his top Mexican fighter of all-time. "He's been the best Mexican fighter in my time but "The Professor'' (as Rivero was called) would tell me Miguel Canto was the master. He was a tremendously crafty little boxer.

"My Dad would mention Salvador Sanchez to me all the time. He died so young (23) I never saw him but my father saw him live. He would tell me Sanchez had the potential to be much better than Chavez. He says Sanchez had something special. He was on his way up. It's hard to say what he would have done. And my father would always talk to me about Ruben Olivares. That was his all-time favorite."

Chavez? Olivares? Canto? Sanchez? Okay but what about Carlos Zarate or Kid Azteca or Vicente Saldivar? And what about perhaps the most under-rated Mexican fighter of all-time, the never defeated Ricardo Lopez.

"Finito'' was 50-0-1 when he said "finito'' on Nov. 28, 2002, retiring nearly a year after defeating Zolani Petelo to defend the IBF light flyweight title one last time after having successfully defended the WBC minimumweight championship a record 22 times before moving up to light flyweight and defending that title belt twice. Lopez, in fact, holds the record for most consecutive title fights without a loss (26), a streak that stretched over 11 years before his retirement and certainly argues strongly his case for a place in the Mexican top 10. So why does Lopez' name so often seem to come as an afterthought when the debate is greatest Mexican fighters?

"A lot of people overlook him because he was in the smallest weight classes and was always on the undercards of other fighters' like Chavez,'' De La Hoya theorizes. "People really didn't know him. He made so many defenses and he left the sport undefeated, which hardly anyone does. It's amazing he gets so overlooked. He should be on that top 10 list.''

So, then, other than those names who else belongs on such a list and would it include Barrera? His promoter thinks so.

"Barrera is right there with the top five of all-time from Mexico,'' insisted De La Hoya, whose Golden Boy Promotions will run the Barrera-Juarez rematch in Las Vegas. "Chavez is still on the top of the list for me but Barrera is not too far back. He's been down so many times and come back and proven he can be a champion again. He was dropped by Junior Jones and (Manny) Pacquiao but he's always come back.

"In talking with Barrera, he's a very proud man. He wants to be considered on top, like Chavez. He wants his name with those names. To secure his legacy he knows he has to beat Juarez again and then avenge his loss to Pacquiao. He wants the Pacquiao rematch so I was fairly surprised when he picked Rocky Jaurez to fight first but I can see why he chose that route. He wants any questions erased.''

If Barrera (62-4, 42 KO) can erase whatever questions some people might have of him, where might he fit, if at all, on such a list of best Mexican boxers of all-time? Here's one look which should surely spur debate.

1. Julio Cesar Chavez - Widely regarded as the greatest Mexican fighter of all-time, although old timers will debate you on that. They favor Olivares, Miguel Canto or maybe even Sanchez. Whatever they think, Chavez won world titles at 130, 135 and three times at 140 and retired with a record of 108-6-2 with 87 KOs. He was unbeaten in his first 91 fights (although a draw to Pernell Whitaker was a gift) before Frankie Randall beat him by well deserved split decision. One of his greatest performances was his last-second stoppage of Meldrick Taylor on March 17, 1990, a brilliant and brutal night in which Taylor administered a boxing lesson but took a beating from which he never fully recovered. Chavez used suffocating pressure, body punching and crushing right hands to wear men down and beat them up. He was 88-0 when he and Whitaker fought in San Antonio. He was a lesser fighter after that but he was also 31 and a veteran of an inordinate amount of ring wars. It will take a lot for someone to remove him out of this No. 1 ranking.

2. Ruben Olivares - One of the two or three best bantamweights ever to fight, Olivares held that title through two reigns between 1969-72 before moving up to twice win the WBC featherweight title. A powerful puncher, Olivares won his first 60 fights, 55 by knockout on the way to posting a record of 88-13-3 (78 KO). Perhaps no 118 pounder ever punched harder than Olivares. He could box but most often chose not to, relying instead on a shot to the liver and a menacing style that was all about coming forward. Classic Mexican brawler, Olivares was loved by Mexican fight fans. His three wars with Bobby Chacon are typical of why.

3. Salvador Sanchez - Sanchez (44-1-1) never lost a title fight and defeated a roster of top opponents like Danny Lopez (twice), Azumah Nelson, Wilfredo Gomez, Juan LaPorte and Ruben Castillo before dying at 23 in a car wreck. He had made nine successful defenses of the featherweight title at the time of his death. Sanchez was not the typical Mexican brawler but rather a defensive expert and sharp counter puncher. His greatest night was when he destroyed Gomez, who was 32-0-1 at the time, in eight technically perfect rounds.

4. Miguel Canto - A defensive master, he's the Mexican version of Willie Pep. He successfully defended the flyweight title a record 14 times, winning all but one of those fights by 15-round decision, a record that will never be approached for dominance by virtue of pure boxing skill.

Canto finished 61-9-4 with only 15 knockouts with four of those losses coming at the end of his career and most of the rest in the first two years of it. He was more difficult to hit than Sandy Koufax.

5. Carlos Zarate - Polar opposite of Canto, Zarate was a power puncher locked in a bantamweight's body. Zarate won his first 45 fights, 44 by KO, and retired with a record of 66-4 with 63 knockouts. That's punching power.

He made nine defenses of the bantamweight title in three years, stopping nearly all of the best opposition available to him, making him one of the greatest bantamweights of all-time. Perhaps his greatest moment was knocking out his nemesis of the '70s, Alfonso Zamora, who was 29-0 at the time with 29 knockouts himself, in an over the weight fight. Zarate dropped Zamora three times before stopping him in the fourth round in their April 23, 1977 showdown.

6. Ricardo Lopez - Grossly underrated as De La Hoya says because of his size and the fact promoter Don King kept him hidden behind Chavez for so long.

7. Marco Antonio Barrera - The best Mexican fighter of his era (unless you include Chavez in it). Erik Morales would like to prove otherwise but he's 1-2 against Barrera and the gap between them is widening. Barrera became a complete fighter, rather than just a warrior, after Junior Jones beat him twice. He still loves to brawl but he can box, too. What featherweight of his time was better? A match with Sanchez would have been a Mexican dream fight.

8. Vicente Saldivar - Elected to the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1999, Saldivar finished his career 37-3 with 27 KO, having won the featherweight title in 1964 by upsetting Sugar Ramos. He held that title for four years, including three wins over Howard Winstone during that stretch before retiring after their third fight in 1967. He returned to the ring 21 months later and won the featherweight title a second time in less than a year, although this reign was short-lived.

9. Kid Azteca - A tremendous body puncher whose liver shot Micky Ward would have loved, Azteca went a phenomenal 151-41-8 with 81 KOs during a 29-year career that went from 1932 to 1961, a span of four decades.

10. Jose Becerra - The most popular fighter in Mexico by July 8, 1959 when he stopped bantamweight champion Alphonse Halimi, conqueror of Becerra's idol Raul Macias 21 months earlier, for the first of two times to become world champion. Becerra retired at 24 however with a 71-5-2 record (42 KO) less than a year after killing Walt Ingram in the ring. Because he fought mostly in the '50s he is all but forgotten these days, overshadowed by fighters like Humberto "Chiquita'' Gonzalez or Pipino Cuevas. They were good but his skills exceeded theirs at their best.

Barrera, not surprisingly, has his own list top Mexican fighters and does not include himself in the top five or Chavez at No. 1. The former was out of modesty because he places Morales, who he's beaten twice, on his list. The latter was out of the belief some fight fans hold that no one would have been better than what Sanchez promised to be had his life not been snuffed out at so young an age.

"To be a Mexican fighter you first have to be a warrior,'' says Barrera, which explains his exclusion of the slick-boxing Canto among his top five.

"Throw punches from the first bell to the last. It doesn't matter that you get hit as long as you land. That's why I put Olivares on my list. He was a typical Mexican fighter. He was always going forward looking for a knockouts. To me, the list is Salvador Sanchez, Chavez, Ruben Olivares, Vicente Saldivar and (Erik) Morales.''

One fighter likely to be on De La Hoya's top 10 Mexican fighters is one excluded here, former welterweight champion Pipino Cuevas. When De La Hoya was a young amateur his father used to take him to the dusty Main Street Gym in downtown L.A. when Cuevas would be there training for a title fight.

He was the first great fighter De La Hoya ever saw up close and it's a sight he's never forgotten.

"He was the first professional fighter I ever saw workout live at the old Main Street Gym,'' De La Hoya recalled fondly. "We paid $2 to see him train. He'd knock down or knock out his sparring partners. Back then they didn't wear any headgear! Oh, my god! He was pretty impressive. I was intrigued by his power. He really wasn't a technician but oh that left hook.''

Despite having twice faced down Chavez, in the end he remains atop De La Hoya's list however because he concedes what many Mexican fight fans will always argue about their two meetings.

"When I first watched him vs. (Edwin) Rosario I was a kid,'' De La Hoya said. "My father took me to a bar to watch him. He was loved by so many fans. He packed the bars and arenas when he fought. A Chavez fight was a big party.

"To this day, in my eyes, he's one of the best to come out of Mexico. If I faced Chavez in his prime it might have been a different outcome. It would have been a hell of a fight.''

If he could put on a few pounds and Chavez could take off a few years, Marco Antonio Barrera would probably feel the same way.

Trout wins in Canada

Courtesy of newmexicoboxing.com

Las Cruces’ Austin Trout rose to 18-0 (13 KOs) with a unanimous decision win over Shawn Garnett (11-6-2, 3 KOs). Scores were 78-72, 78-73 and 78-74. Trout landed the more solid blows while avoiding Garnett’s big right.

Trout makes weight – Garnett doesn’t

Courtesy of newmexicoboxing.com

In a throwback, same-day weigh-in, this morning, at 8 a.m., Austin Trout and opponent Shawn Garnett weighed in for their fight tonight in Ontario, Canada. Trout weighed in as expected, at 155.8, just under the 156-pound contracted weight. Garnett, however, did not make weight, coming in nearly five pounds over, at 160.8. He was given one hour by the local commission to make weight, but at 9 a.m., he’d only managed to shave off a pound, coming in at 159.6.

Despite the difference in weight, the fight will go on. Garnett was penalized $1,100, which will go into Trout’s purse. “We’re okay with that,” says trainer Louie Burke. “The fight’s still on.” Burke says it’ll be late card, with Trout not going on until 8 p.m., New Mexico time.

Burke’s Blog: Trout hits Canada

Thursday June 25, 2009

By Louie Burke

Monday we started winding down Austin’s training for his Friday night fight in Canada, against Shawn Garnett. It was the last of his hard training and he looked good , sparring four rounds with Abie Han, for a total regiment of 15 rounds. The contracted weight is 156. Weigh-ins will be the day of the fight, which throws a wrench in the pasta dinner plans we always have, the night prior to the fight.

Tuesday, Austin trained a solid 12 rounds, he looked very sharp on the pads and best of all was weighing 155, one pound under weight. We’re not sure when we’ll get in another good workout so it was important that Austin make the weight prior to leaving. Furthermore, I didn’t want him to do any last minute dehydrating since the weigh-ins are the day of the fight. He’s right on schedule!

Wednesday, Murphy’s Law took into effect. We missed the flight which was at 6:55 due to an accident on the freeway. But someone up there likes Austin, and we arrived in Toronto at about 10:30 pm, all on standby flights routing us from El Paso to Dallas then to New York and finally to Toronto. Once in Toronto, we found out we still had a hour and a half drive to Casino Rama, where the fights are being held. We finally got in bed close to 1:00 am. Oh yea, our luggage was lost on the way. We’ll figure it out in the morning.

Thursday, we slept til 11:am, woke up and went to go weigh-in and eat breakfast. Austin’s feeling good and rested after the long journey we had yesterday. Most of the day was rest, small walks, a meeting with the commission, dinner and a light shake-out. They found our luggage, now Austin won’t have to go in the ring sin trunks. We actually went to Wal-Mart and bought some Jordan basketball style shorts, just in case.
Tomorrow the 8:00 weigh-in will be held across the street where were staying. After that we plan on eating a good breakfast, and resting and eating a lighter meal later on then again resting til fight time. Austin’s the semi-main and it will be televised on Canadian TV.

We’ve had the opportunity to study "film" or I should say DVD’s, that we were able to get from Dan Sisneros, who has an extensive collection of fight film or can get film on just about anybody. He’s been an invaluable asset to the PAL boxers, thanks a million.

Garnett being a southpaw, Austin needed southpaw sparring and boy he had some great sessions, with Jauquin Zomora, Abie Han, and Renee Armijo, who also graciously let us use his gym on several occasions. And of course, even though not southpaws Siju and Lil Sammy were thrown in the mix.

Even though not a title defense, Garnett is not taken lightly. He has some major upsets on the W side of his record. Garnett is strong and he does come in wide and with his head swinging wildly from side to side, which is a major concern that we’ve worked on in training to try and prevent any clash of heads during the bout. As Austin’s trainer I can say he’s ready and well prepared, if he preforms like he has in the gym then he should be 18-0 Friday night.
Thanks for your support.

Tommy Hearns vs Roberto Duran

By Randy De La O

This fight has always been painful for me to watch. This and Duran v Leonard II are difficult for me. Hearns was at the top of his game that night. This is the fight that convinced Hearns and his people that they could beat Marvin Hagler and maybe on another night he might have beaten him but on the night they fought, Hagler was too much for Hearns plus he was spurred on by the cut. He was afraid the fight might be stopped and it might have. He took matters into his own hands and gave us a classic, both of them did.

Even with his losses and the flaws in his career Roberto Duran is my favorite fighter. Leonard, Hagler and Hearns got him past his best. Duran, a natural lightweight took on the Welters and Middleweights and did pretty damned good all things considered. As far as I'm concerned he's right there with Robinson as the greatest fighter that ever lived. As a lightweight maybe he was the very best. As good as Manny Paquiao seems to be, there is no Leonard, Hagler or Hearns on his resume or in his future. Duran was special.

Keeny Teran

Roger Esty and Mando Muniz

I'm happy to say that my friend, San Diego artist Roger Esty will be showcasing his paintings at the World Boxing Hall of Fame this year. His art work will also be gracing the cover of the WBHF's 2009 program cover. Congratulations Rog! Kudos to Rick Farris for his hard work in making it happen.

Photo by Rick Farris

"Roger Esty and Armando Muniz review photos of Roger's paintings at WBHOF Director's meeting today." Rick Farris

"El Pintor De Los Campeones"

The World Boxing Hall of Fame is very lucky to have Roger on it's team.
When you think of all the postive energy that flows thru a person when they experience the gratification of artistic recognition, well, it's a gift.

Lot's of people have receieved that gift thru Roger.
Now, the special fighters we respect will experience that feeling.
It may not be unique to them, but something they hadn't felt in ages.
It will rub off on fans, that energy. I've seen it happen.

All this from one man's hands & eyes.

We are all imperfect, but most of us have something that is perfect, if only the world could see it.
Something that defines our spirit.
You can see it in all of Roger's paintings. The fighters spirit, and the artists spirit.
Together they are a powerful force, that's what I see and feel.

Personally, I can't wait to see the cover of this year's World Boxing Hall of Fame banquet program.
That publication will be permanently kept at:

The United States Capitol Historical Society
200 Maryland Ave. Washington D.C. 20505

Los angeles County Museum of Natural History
900 Exposition Bvd. Los Angeles, Calif. 90007

Bancroft Library, University of California
Berkley, Calif. 94720

This is going to be the first historically correct program with regard to our "honor roll" in years.
If it's not, look in my direction because I'm responsible.
The first thing that people will notice is the cover. It has to be special.
We can rest easy on that one. This year we have Roger.


-Rick Farris

The Roger Esty Gallery

The Gil Cadilli Story - By Gil Cadilli Jr.

Courtesy of Frank Baltazar Sr


A great video and a fine tribute to his father Gil Cadilli by Gil Cadilli Jr. This is a good follow up to the previous post by Frank. There is also some good footage of Gil Cadilli vs Keeny Teran at the Hollywood Legion Stadium, June 22, 1951.

Keeny Teran Bares Facts on Fight With Kid H.

Paul V. Coates -- Confidential File, June 10, 1959

Keeny Teran's back home.

The former boy wonder of boxing who went sour on narcotics is, at the age of 28, going to give life another try.

This week, he finished a three-year stretch at Soledad State Prison. The crime that sent him there -- peddling heroin -- was just one of the hundreds of stories that kept Keeny in the headlines here for a decade.

In his glorious, notorious life, boxing's most publicized bad boy was jailed for burglary and dope, crowned as California's and NorthAmerican's bantam weight champion, and credited, in 1952, for the most courageous comeback in the history of the ring.

Yesterday, Keeny Teran sat down with me only hours after he walked through the prison gates, to discuss the next chapter in his life.

And he admitted that it might be a pretty dull one, so far as newspaper headlines are concerned.

"I'm going to try to do things right," he told me. "When I was at Soledad, I didn't serve time. I made it serve me. I read everything I could get my hands on."

"What kind of books?" I asked.

"Well, like one on the life of Teddy Roosevelt. I really picked up on him."

In prison Keeny became editor of the paper. He also went to school for three and a half hours a days until he made up enough credits to get his high school diploma.

"On the outside I was always too busy with boxing," he explained, adding softly, "and other things."

"Other things" included a taste for marijuana at the age of 11 and a side career as an addict which started with his first fix of heroin the day before his 15th birthday.

With no trace of false pride or tough guy in his voice, Keeny talked about those days.

"Nobody forced me. Nobody offered it to me. I just took it," he said. "Dope is its own agent. I just thought it won't happen to me. I'mKeeny."

Just about all through my boxing career I was hooked," he added. "That's something most people don't realize."

In June of 1952, after 17 straight wins, the kid lost to Tommy Umeda. "Before that, I was just using mildly," he said. "But when I lost that fight, it broke my heart. I figured I was indestructible. I couldn't lose.

"After that is when I stated using heavy."

By the end of that year Keeny was back on top of the world. He'd reversed the Umeda decision and for five weeks "beaten" the habit long enough to have everybody in Hollywood begging to do his life story.

"I had everything to live for," he said. But his habit was bigger than he was. He fought some more, won some good fights, lost a few -- and all the time he was fooling the State Athletic Commission doctors.

"Say we'd weigh in at 12 o'clock. I'd take my fix at 1 o'clock. then I'd wait until after 8 o'clock examination at the arena to fix again. I'd spread them around all over my body. No tracks that way."

I asked Keeny if some more boxing might be in his future.

"Right now," he said, "I just don't know. I feel fine. I worked out all the time up there. I've never been in better shape.

"But who knows what the boxing commission is thinking of me now?"

Today's Today and That's for Me

"What I'd like to do," Keeny added, "is get a job in an office. I'd like to be sports writer, but I know I'm not ready. I learned a lot up there, but I still sweat blood getting one little column done.

"Another thing," the grown-up kid went on, "I'm no crusader. I'm not going to go around telling what a bad guy I was and how wrong I was. Right now I'm going to take each day one by one, and make it my job to take care ofKeeny."

I hope he does a helluva good job.

Keeny Teran....The Knockout

1969 Southern Pacific A.A.U. Champions, El Monte Legion Stadium

Photo courtesy of Rick Farris

1969 Southern Pacific A.A.U. Champions, El Monte Legion Stadium

(top row) Pete Despart, ?, ?, Mike Quarry, ?, ?, James Dick, Jake Horn, "Kit" Boursse', Manny Diaz, Memo Soto.
(bottom row) Ernie DeFrance, Pete Vital Sr, Pete Vital Jr., Florentino Ramirez, Rudy "Porky" Acuna, Rick Farris, Tommy Coulson, Henry Verastique.

"As this photo was taken, the Quarry family, and the family of Mike Quarry's opponent, James Dick, were involved in a little disagreement at ringside. It was settled by the riot squad of the El Monte Police Dept". ....Rick Farris

When Irish Eyes Are Smiling . . .

I can be seen in the photo with the rest of our AAU Team for 1969, however, Frank was also there.
As the photographer snapped photos, the team and Frank Baltazar (off camera) enjoyed the safety of the ring.

There was big trouble brewing at ringside.
A Quarry won the last bout. Mike got the nod over a Hillbilly, and the Clampett family wasn't happy.
Lots of things being thrown at ringside- punches, purses, cups of beer, men rolling around the ground in head locks.
A woman's wig suddenly flys thru the air like a platinum pigeon, a cherry bomb explodes.
The majority of the battle is being waged by the women, lots of biting, scratching and kicking. Somebody gets stabbed.

Ma Quarry is brought in to settle the mess, she's wearing high-heels for the first time ever and she ain't happy.
Hard enough to walk in the damn things, now she's gotta fight in them.
A moment later the two old broads are on the ground, Ma Quarry vs. Granny Clampett.
The Riot Squad bursts in, pulls the men apart and cuffs them.
Elly May is maced before she can level Wilma Quarry with a fold-up chair.

The riot squad sees that it's best to deal with the men first, and are slow to approach Ma Quarry as she pounds Granny.
Ma suddenly pins Granny Clampett and jumps to her feet.
A policeman attempts to cuff the mother of the world's #2 ranked heavyweight.

"Get your friggin hands off of me. Can't you see I am a lady?"

Without blinking an eye, the policeman replies, "Yes Mam."
He then moved away to deal with another suspect, brother Jimmy. The Quarry men aren't as dangerous as the women.

Just a typical Saturday evening at the El Monte Legion Stadium.
Irish eyes were smiling.


-Rick Farris

Classic Fights: Tony Baltazar vs Roger Mayweather

Courtesy of Frank Baltazar Sr.

Tony Baltazar vs Roger Mayweather

July 8, 1984

Country Club, Reseda, California, United States