Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Boxers Marshall Martinez and Steven Luevano are blood brothers
.
Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
October 17, 2008
Eight years ago, boxing promoter Bob Arum was convinced he'd landed the sport's next legend when he signed Marshall Martinez.
Martinez had defeated Miguel Cotto (a future welterweight champion) in an Olympic qualifying fight, and U.S. boxing officials envisioned a gold medal dangling around the neck of the tough, hard-punching kid from Fontana.
Martinez seemed headed to the Sydney Games. But the fighter nicknamed "little devil" had to quit the U.S. team after he wrote checks stolen from another athlete's Olympic training headquarters' mailbox. Instead, he turned pro.
Arum snapped Martinez up for a $50,000 bonus and, as a favor, signed Martinez's cousin, a scrawny La Puente teen named Steven Luevano. "Luevano was nothing special," Arum said. "We signed him only in order to get Martinez."
As it turned out, the cousins' careers took divergent paths.
Martinez's boxing plans came to a stop when he was arrested in 2004 for conspiracy to distribute cocaine and sentenced to a four-year prison term. He's now back in the gym, trying to reassemble his life and career. Meanwhile, Luevano (35-1-1, 15 knockouts) will defend his World Boxing Organization featherweight title against Billy "The Kid" Dib on the undercard of the Kelly Pavlik-Bernard Hopkins fight Saturday in Atlantic City, N.J.
The cousins chat on the phone frequently and visit each other when possible. Martinez says they're like "brothers." Luevano said he tosses his cousin occasional reminders, "to stay out of trouble.
"If he was going to do something, he was going to do it, and no one could stop him," Luevano recalled.
"They were always close," said Luevano's mother, Dolly, whose sister, Margie Carmona, is Martinez's mom. "But they're different people."
When they were young, they were driven to East Los Angeles by Martinez's mother to train. They shared the same dream to one day fight professionally and become world champions.
The shy Luevano for years maintained a disciplined routine: "Wake up, go to school, carpool to the gym, do his homework, eat, go to bed," his mother said. When he was 17 and had a child with his wife, Marina, the pattern didn't change. Boxing would now have to support a family.
Martinez always lived off-script. As a child, he'd throw rocks at his cousins. In his late teens, he had volatile relationships with girlfriends, he'd hang out with other cousins who were gang members and he'd know where to party.
Asked to explain the opposing forces that affected the cousins, Arum remains at a loss. "I'm not a psychiatrist," he said. "Martinez was a bad boy. We just didn't know how bad."
Before their first pro fight, the southpaw Luevano was becoming the tactician who now routinely out-thinks his opponents with counter-punching and sophisticated defense. "Wait, wait, wait for an opening," his amateur boxing trainer Manuel Montiel Jr. would tell him. "Make them miss, and make them pay."
Martinez's subtlety was a punch in the nose. The cousins' pro careers began on the same card as 19-year-olds, in an outdoor ring in Bell Gardens. Luevano won by second-round knockout. Martinez was victorious in typical tough-guy manner, overcoming an early broken nose to gain a unanimous decision.
Martinez frequently strayed into crises. He was shot in the hip at a party, spent three months in jail for a prior crime and became embroiled in disputes with Arum. He fought only eight times, going 7-0-1, including a July 2003 date in Mexico in what would be his last fight. By then, Luevano was 19-0 with nine knockouts.
Then, in August 2004, Martinez was arrested in a case involving more than five kilograms of cocaine -- with a street value of $750,000. Uicardo Williams Jr., who was a U.S. Olympic silver-medalist boxer in 2000, and a third man were also arrested and convicted.
Asked why he did it, Martinez said. "The money . . . you're making $110,000 every three to four days . . . I accepted responsibility, though. Yeah, I did it."
Martinez started prison with a year of hard time in Leavenworth, Kan., where he fought with one prisoner and got caught with a cellphone, violations that sent him into solitary isolation.
"When they take your freedom away and you're locked up in a box, it's the worst," Martinez said. "Being there changed me 360 degrees. Before, I was a walking time bomb . . . I realized God put me in there to turn my life around. I thought about all of that, how the people I thought were my friends weren't friends at all. . . .
"Going to prison is like dying and being able to see your own funeral. You get to see who brings you flowers.
"You know who did? My mom . . . and Steven, he sent me some money. That's who took care of me. I have no more 'friends,' it's just me and my girl, going to the gym every day and then back home."
One recent morning, at an East L.A. gym adorned with a small sign reading, "Champions never take the easy way out," Martinez started his comeback, slamming his fists into a heavy punching bag.
"He still has power in his hands," Montiel said. "He still has it in his heart to become someone, a champion."
Martinez's return to the ring will come at 140 pounds Nov. 1 at the Home Depot Center in Carson.
He's going after what his cousin attained in July 2007, when the 126-pound Luevano traveled to England and fought Nicky Cook. Dolly Luevano didn't have enough money to make the trip, so she stuck to her shift at a Lamps Plus in Upland and told her boss she was expecting a phone call.
The phone rang, and Dolly heard that Luevano had won the title in an 11th-round knockout. "I was so happy I started crying," Dolly said. "Steven had to prove himself to everyone. There were so many who said he'd never make it. Well, he showed them."
"He's done everything the right way," Martinez said. "That's why so many good things have happened."
As for Martinez's comeback plans, Luevano said: "He will be able to do as much as he wants to do."
lance.pugmire@latimes.com
Boxer Steven Luevano, right, is photographed at home with his wife Marina, holding their 14-month-old son Raymond, son Robert, 9, left, and daughter Rebecca, 7.
The cousins took divergent paths in boxing but still support each other at all times.
By Lance PugmireLos Angeles Times Staff Writer
October 17, 2008
Eight years ago, boxing promoter Bob Arum was convinced he'd landed the sport's next legend when he signed Marshall Martinez.
Martinez had defeated Miguel Cotto (a future welterweight champion) in an Olympic qualifying fight, and U.S. boxing officials envisioned a gold medal dangling around the neck of the tough, hard-punching kid from Fontana.
Martinez seemed headed to the Sydney Games. But the fighter nicknamed "little devil" had to quit the U.S. team after he wrote checks stolen from another athlete's Olympic training headquarters' mailbox. Instead, he turned pro.
Arum snapped Martinez up for a $50,000 bonus and, as a favor, signed Martinez's cousin, a scrawny La Puente teen named Steven Luevano. "Luevano was nothing special," Arum said. "We signed him only in order to get Martinez."
As it turned out, the cousins' careers took divergent paths.
Martinez's boxing plans came to a stop when he was arrested in 2004 for conspiracy to distribute cocaine and sentenced to a four-year prison term. He's now back in the gym, trying to reassemble his life and career. Meanwhile, Luevano (35-1-1, 15 knockouts) will defend his World Boxing Organization featherweight title against Billy "The Kid" Dib on the undercard of the Kelly Pavlik-Bernard Hopkins fight Saturday in Atlantic City, N.J.
The cousins chat on the phone frequently and visit each other when possible. Martinez says they're like "brothers." Luevano said he tosses his cousin occasional reminders, "to stay out of trouble.
"If he was going to do something, he was going to do it, and no one could stop him," Luevano recalled.
"They were always close," said Luevano's mother, Dolly, whose sister, Margie Carmona, is Martinez's mom. "But they're different people."
When they were young, they were driven to East Los Angeles by Martinez's mother to train. They shared the same dream to one day fight professionally and become world champions.
The shy Luevano for years maintained a disciplined routine: "Wake up, go to school, carpool to the gym, do his homework, eat, go to bed," his mother said. When he was 17 and had a child with his wife, Marina, the pattern didn't change. Boxing would now have to support a family.
Martinez always lived off-script. As a child, he'd throw rocks at his cousins. In his late teens, he had volatile relationships with girlfriends, he'd hang out with other cousins who were gang members and he'd know where to party.
Asked to explain the opposing forces that affected the cousins, Arum remains at a loss. "I'm not a psychiatrist," he said. "Martinez was a bad boy. We just didn't know how bad."
Before their first pro fight, the southpaw Luevano was becoming the tactician who now routinely out-thinks his opponents with counter-punching and sophisticated defense. "Wait, wait, wait for an opening," his amateur boxing trainer Manuel Montiel Jr. would tell him. "Make them miss, and make them pay."
Martinez's subtlety was a punch in the nose. The cousins' pro careers began on the same card as 19-year-olds, in an outdoor ring in Bell Gardens. Luevano won by second-round knockout. Martinez was victorious in typical tough-guy manner, overcoming an early broken nose to gain a unanimous decision.
Martinez frequently strayed into crises. He was shot in the hip at a party, spent three months in jail for a prior crime and became embroiled in disputes with Arum. He fought only eight times, going 7-0-1, including a July 2003 date in Mexico in what would be his last fight. By then, Luevano was 19-0 with nine knockouts.
Then, in August 2004, Martinez was arrested in a case involving more than five kilograms of cocaine -- with a street value of $750,000. Uicardo Williams Jr., who was a U.S. Olympic silver-medalist boxer in 2000, and a third man were also arrested and convicted.
Asked why he did it, Martinez said. "The money . . . you're making $110,000 every three to four days . . . I accepted responsibility, though. Yeah, I did it."
Martinez started prison with a year of hard time in Leavenworth, Kan., where he fought with one prisoner and got caught with a cellphone, violations that sent him into solitary isolation.
"When they take your freedom away and you're locked up in a box, it's the worst," Martinez said. "Being there changed me 360 degrees. Before, I was a walking time bomb . . . I realized God put me in there to turn my life around. I thought about all of that, how the people I thought were my friends weren't friends at all. . . .
"Going to prison is like dying and being able to see your own funeral. You get to see who brings you flowers.
"You know who did? My mom . . . and Steven, he sent me some money. That's who took care of me. I have no more 'friends,' it's just me and my girl, going to the gym every day and then back home."
One recent morning, at an East L.A. gym adorned with a small sign reading, "Champions never take the easy way out," Martinez started his comeback, slamming his fists into a heavy punching bag.
"He still has power in his hands," Montiel said. "He still has it in his heart to become someone, a champion."
Martinez's return to the ring will come at 140 pounds Nov. 1 at the Home Depot Center in Carson.
He's going after what his cousin attained in July 2007, when the 126-pound Luevano traveled to England and fought Nicky Cook. Dolly Luevano didn't have enough money to make the trip, so she stuck to her shift at a Lamps Plus in Upland and told her boss she was expecting a phone call.
The phone rang, and Dolly heard that Luevano had won the title in an 11th-round knockout. "I was so happy I started crying," Dolly said. "Steven had to prove himself to everyone. There were so many who said he'd never make it. Well, he showed them."
"He's done everything the right way," Martinez said. "That's why so many good things have happened."
As for Martinez's comeback plans, Luevano said: "He will be able to do as much as he wants to do."
lance.pugmire@latimes.com
Friday, October 17, 2008
Enrique Bolanos, Baby Arizmendi and Their Ladies
BOULEVARD NIGHT
By Roger Esty
The old photograph taken at a slant. The creases and tears. Black and white images that let you use your imagination to tell what the colors were. Creme and tan colored suits. Empty cocktail glasses with the ice melting into the last of the whiskey.Steaks all around well done. Floral arrangements on a white table cloth. Silk dresses on dark skinned beauties. (They were in the salon all afternoon). Dancing to the voice of Dick Haymes and the big band playing "Perfidia"at the Ambassador,or was it the Bonaventure?
The black and white photograph in the album. The folds and creases at a tilt let us exercise our imaginations. The early 50's. The roadster with the white sidewalls parked in the valet lot waiting for the happy foresome. I'm only guessing,but I know I'm right.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
ESPN: Pavlik Vs. Hopkins
Bernard Hopkins and Kelly Pavlik face each other this coming Saturday, October 18, 2008 at the Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City. They will be fighting at a catchall weight of 170.
I don't see Bernard Hopkins winning this one. Hopkin's is one hell of salesman but it's more than likely going to be a case of false advertisement when these two fight on the 18th. My gut instinct says Kelly Pavlik is going to give an Antonio Margarito like perfomance and impose his will on Hopkins. The fluctuations in weight can't be good for Hopkins at his age. I thought Hopkins was showing his age in the Calzaghe fight. Hopkins has had a great career but Pavlik wins this by UD, possibly a late round stoppage.
v
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Mike Quarry
The following photos are from the Johnny Chavez benefit in Azusa, California in 1993. Chavez lost his eyesight after a fight. His last fight was against Gabriel Castro at the Forum in Inglewood, California on November 6, 1092. I'm assuming that's the fight where the damage occurred. Frank Baltazar will probably know more about this. Look at the autograph on the lower right hand corner. Frankie Baltazar Jr. Always a gentleman.
It was almost as difficult speaking with Mike Quarry as it was speaking with Jerry. He was very fragile by this time as Rick Farris can probably attest to. Several of guys that Mike was speaking with were laughing at him behind his back. I pulled him away and had a good chat with him. It was painful.
I opened the show for Mike at the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas on October 30, 1976 when he fought Tom Bethea. Mike won a 10 round decision. earlier that year Mike and I had sparred on three separate occasions. something I won't forget.
When I heard Mike had died and how he died, I remembered that day. He was no longer the same Mike Quarry.
It was almost as difficult speaking with Mike Quarry as it was speaking with Jerry. He was very fragile by this time as Rick Farris can probably attest to. Several of guys that Mike was speaking with were laughing at him behind his back. I pulled him away and had a good chat with him. It was painful.
I opened the show for Mike at the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas on October 30, 1976 when he fought Tom Bethea. Mike won a 10 round decision. earlier that year Mike and I had sparred on three separate occasions. something I won't forget.
When I heard Mike had died and how he died, I remembered that day. He was no longer the same Mike Quarry.
R.I.P. Mike
Click on either photo for a larger view
Ken Buchanan
Ken Buchanan
Great Photo of Ken Buchanan. It makes me sad though. You can see the brightness in his eyes. He was full of life in this photo. It has to be before Duran. After his loss to Roberto Duran. Buchanan was never the same. It was mental. The fight got into his head and he could never accept the loss. He's convinced himself but for the low blow, he might have won. Nothing and no one could have saved him from Roberto Duran that night.
That's the thing about boxers, especially champions, and even more so the very great ones. When the gig is up, they can't accept it. The very quality that got them where they are; heart, courage, determination, intestinal fortitude, desire, and that deep burning desire to never say die, the refusal to lose, betrays them at the end of their careers, it can make fools of them. The very quality the once was their best attribute is now their worst. Sad but true. Just look at Julio Cesar Chavez at the end of his career and you'll see what i'm talking about.
That's what happened to Buchanan. The fight and the loss to Duran didn't ruin Ken's quality of life. That came from within. Over the years he became bitter. His unhappiness is evident in every interview I have ever seen.
Ken Buchanan & wife Carol: After the Duran fight?
Saturday, October 4, 2008
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