Battle Hymn – Part 6: The Brink

Published

11 years ago

April 7, 2014

Part 6b 9121b Little Tiger Wade never fought in San Francisco again. He turned up in New York on August 11, 1945 at Madison Square Garden.

Fifteen thousand watched him fight Mario Raul Ochoa, a Cuban national champion in two divisions. Wade dropped him twice before the bout was stopped in the second round. In the main event, Jake LaMotta, then The Ring’s number-one middleweight contender, knocked out Jose Basora. The house receipts were twenty-times what Wade had ever seen in Illinois or California.

How did Wade land a much-coveted spot in a semi-final at the Garden? He had lost two of his last three fights (against the second, seventh, and fifth-rated middleweights, respectively), failed to crack the top-ten, fled San Francisco under a cloud of suspicion, and was inactive for months before the Ochoa fight. In addition, he had never even been to the East Coast, never mind New York City. There is only one explanation—he had somehow hooked up with a well-connected manager.

That manager was Carlos de Castanova, who was called “Charley Cook.”

In the shadows behind Cook’s stable was Eddie Coco. Ex-con, soldier in the Lucchese crime family, and friend of the notorious Frankie Carbo, Coco was a sure-thing gambler pulling strings behind front men and sometimes in plain sight. Everyone knew that a spot on the card at the Garden had a price and that “price” was usually a percentage. If the manager was not a friend already of the so-called “Combination” he had to grant a piece of his fighter to someone who was. Carbo and company had pieces of an untold number of fighters who fought at the Garden in the forties. Wade was probably no exception.

Ten days after Wade stopped Ochoa, he was in Pittsburgh facing Charley Burley. In October, he was in Baltimore facing a beast named Bert Lytell. Lytell was rated fourth in the ring ratings and Wade got serious. He left the pork alone, trained hard, and came into the ring at a chiseled 152 lbs—his lowest weight in over three years. By then, Murderers’ Row had learned to steer clear of Wade’s slinging shots or move in close to smother them and Lytell did just that. They fought on even terms until the last round when Wade besieged him and snatched the victory. All three judges scored the fight five rounds to four with one even.

The next morning, Wade would have collected his purse and perhaps grabbed the Baltimore Sun. In the sports section, two columns to the left of the headline “Wade defeats Bert Lytell,” was a column informing the boxing world that the titles were thawing out and the champions were being released from military duty. “Tony Zale, middleweight champ,” it read, “is among the fighters back in circulation.”

Wade was on the brink. He had just cracked the top ten in boxing’s deepest division and was promised a fight against Archie Moore, who was number-one at light heavyweight. If he could defeat Moore again, he would be within pouncing distance of Zale’s throne.

Wade-Moore II was scheduled for October 15 at St. Nicholas Arena. On October 10, Moore pulled out, claiming food poisoning. Wade faced Vincent “Hurricane” Jones who replaced Ossie Harris who had replaced Moore. Still, it was a main event promoted as “the first of a series of elimination matches” for a middleweight title shot. It was his second appearance in New York and proved no less ferocious than his first; he knocked Jones flat four times before the bout was stopped.

And then Wade, by then a full-blown alcoholic, went and chewed off his own tail.

It was like a mantra at Wade family get-togethers: “Aaron was just a hair’s breadth away from a title shot.” I heard it recently when Alan recalled his mother saying it. “Did you ever ask your father what happened, why he never got the shot?” I asked him. He had, and Wade’s answer is sobering. “I got drunk,” Wade told his son, “and cussed out the New York Commission.”

After stopping Jones at St. Nick’s, Wade was idle for four months. He dissipated. Any substance-abuse counselor will tell you that the bottle is upturned during downtimes and Wade took his to the Bowery, which was then New York City’s skid row. He would rent a room with no locks on the doors and binge-drink for days.

On February 4, 1946, he looked like a dumpling when he stepped into the ring at St. Nick’s to face Holman Williams. With a career-high 170 pounds packed onto his 5’5 frame, he was unprepared. He was dropped twice for nine counts in the second round before left hooks and a right cross concluded matters.

It was a spectacular knockout.

Or was it?

A closer look casts doubt. Williams was managed by another well-connected New York manager named “Broadway” Charley Rose. More suspicious than that are the hand injuries plaguing Williams, which had long-since required him to revert from boxer-puncher to defensive specialist. His overall knockout percentage was 18%. He had never before knocked out a ranked contender and after Wade, he never would again. In fact, he would lose over half his subsequent bouts before his career sputtered out in 1948. Wade, by contrast, was well-known as a sturdy fighter with no neck. He was not easily dented, particularly by an over-the-hill defensive specialist with brittle hands—unless he took a dive; or was drunk.

Wade retired in March. Why he retired offers another potential reason for his peculiar knockout. Wade underwent an operation on his eyes at a New York hospital. Charley Cook stepped up and paid the bills during the twenty-months he was out of action.

At the end of 1947, Cook took him to Holyoke, a Massachusetts mill town that Murderers’ Row used to regroup and derail up-and-comers. He concocted a narrative for the local press that said Wade had to leave San Francisco because “he ran out of opposition on the West Coast” and “is now picking on light heavyweights.” To account for the long-layoff, Cook said that Wade had suffered “eye cuts” in the Williams fight though neither the New York Times nor the Herald-Tribune mentioned that detail in their coverage. Cook was wisely covering up a far-more serious medical issue. The eye injury Wade had suffered at the hands of Jack Chase in 1944 had almost certainly caused traumatic cataracts which impeded his vision worse and worse over time. How successful the operation would prove was anyone’s guess.

Cook signed him to fight light-heavyweight Sam Baroudi on October 13, 1947 at the Valley Arena and hoped for the best. Cook may not have been completely confident; an article appeared in the Holyoke Transcript-Telegram before the fight that curiously refers to Wade as “Tiger Jack” Wade.

But Wade came through for himself and his manager. He jabbed to the body to set up overhands to take the first seven rounds and the decision. Baroudi was “peeved” until Wade offered a winner-take-all rematch; then he quieted down.

“Hurling challenges at any middleweight in the world,” reported the Transcript-Telegram, “including champion Rocky Graziano, ex-champion Tony Zale, and especially southpaw Bert Lytell, Aaron (Little Tiger) Wade, boxing’s modern Joe Walcott today shouted he will bar no one in the 160 pound ranks.”

He was ignored; so he told Cook that he’d fight anyone 177 lbs. or less.

After getting permission from the Massachusetts State Boxing Commission to stage a physical mismatch, Wade signed to face light heavyweight “Tiger” Ted Lowry on October 27. Lowry, a talented spoiler, would have a considerable height, weight, and reach advantage over Wade. He twice went the distance with Rocky Marciano and swore he did more than that: “I really beat him, you know,” he said in 2008. “He used to swing so wild. That’s like sending me a letter.”

Wade didn’t swing wild, but he swung hard. “It was a battle all the way,” said the Transcript-Telegram, “a slam-bang brawl.” Both Wade and Lowry “took turns jolting each other and Wade more than stood up under the heavy punishment the New Haven light heavy dealt.”

Outgunned though he was, Wade attacked Lowry as if nothing else mattered, as if Lowry was a shadow self that had to be defeated. Despite his existential effort and despite the fact that many fans “honestly believed he won the decision,” he lost. It was a fitting reflection of Wade’s battle with alcoholism and of his entire boxing career. He was at the brink, “within a hair’s breadth,” but what he sought he would not get. And as the decision was announced against him, whatever the 31-year-old ex-contender had left wafted off with the cigar smoke out of the Valley Arena and into the universe.

His manager saw it as a good loss. He immediately booked him to fight tenth-rated Anton Raadik and got him a stay-busy bout against young Wylie Burns. He didn’t know Wade’s spirit was broken.

Decades later, Wade would admit to his son that he had fought twice while drunk. Burns-Wade looks like one of them. Wade complained that he was “sick” in the middle of the fight. Over the last six rounds he “pawed around for Burns and did little or no punching” while he himself was “punched full of holes.” The body shots particularly did a number on him, as would be expected if he was drunk. When the referee came to his corner between rounds with a warning to put up an effort or get disqualified, Cook advised the referee to disqualify him and an argument broke out. Wade just hunched on his stool.

There was no come-from-behind surge, no heroic last stand. “Burns, An Unknown, Defeats Wade,” the paper announced the next morning. “The little giant of the middleweights and highly respected from coast to coast, was completely ignored” by a 4-1 underdog.

After the fight, Wade did what dying tigers do. He wandered off alone, away from the field of battle.

Wade-Ochoa in New York Times, 8/11/45; Details about Charley Cook, Eddie Coco, and the New York boxing scene found in “My Rugged Education in Boxing” by Robert K. Christenberry in LIFE 5/22/52; Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, 8/29/36, Wade-Jones, New York Herald-Tribune 10/15, 16/45, New York Times, 10/16/45; Williams-Wade II in New York Herald-Tribune and New York Times 2/5/46; see also Pittsburgh Press, 10/10/45. Wade’s bouts in Holyoke in Holyoke Transcript & Telegram, 10/10, 11, 13, 14, 21, 24, 28/47 and 12/21, 23/47.
Springs Toledo can be contracted at scalinatella@hotmail.com.

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Steven Navarro is the TSS 2024 Prospect of the Year

Published

1 hour ago

December 18, 2024

Arne K. Lang

Steven-Navarro-is-the-TSS-2024-Prospect-of-the-Year

“I get ‘Bam’ vibes when I watch this kid,” said ESPN ringside commentator Tim Bradley during the opening round of Steven Navarro’s most recent match. Bradley was referencing WBC super flyweight champion Jesse “Bam” Rodriguez, a precociously brilliant technician whose name now appears on most pound-for-pound lists.

There are some common threads between Steven Navarro, the latest fighter to adopt the nickname “Kid Dynamite,” and Bam Rodriguez. Both are southpaws currently competing in the junior bantamweight division. But, of course, Bradley was alluding to something more when he made the comparison. And Navarro’s showing bore witness that Bradley was on to something.

It was the fifth pro fight for Navarro who was matched against a Puerto Rican with a 7-1 ledger. He ended the contest in the second frame, scoring three knockdowns, each the result of a different combination of punches, forcing the referee to stop it. It was the fourth win inside the distance for the 20-year-old phenom.

Isaias Estevan “Steven” Navarro turned pro after coming up short in last December’s U.S. Olympic Trials in Lafayette, Louisiana. The #1 seed in the 57 kg (featherweight) division, he was upset in the finals, losing a controversial split decision. Heading in, Navarro had won 13 national tournaments beginning at age 12.

A graduate of LA’s historic Fairfax High School, Steven made his pro debut this past April on a Matchroom Promotions card at the Fontainebleau in Las Vegas and then inked a long-term deal with Top Rank. He comes from a boxing family. His father Refugio had 10 pro fights and three of Refugio’s cousins were boxers, most notably Jose Navarro who represented the USA at the 2000 Sydney Olympics and was a four-time world title challenger as a super flyweight. Jose was managed by Oscar De La Hoya for much of his pro career.

Nowadays, the line between a prospect and a rising contender has been blurred. Three years ago, in an effort to make matters less muddled, we operationally defined a prospect thusly: “A boxer with no more than a dozen fights, none yet of the 10-round variety.” To our way of thinking, a prospect by nature is still in the preliminary-bout phase of his career.

We may loosen these parameters in the future. For one thing, it eliminates a lot of talented female boxers who, like their Japanese male counterparts in the smallest weight classes, are often pushed into title fights when, from a historical perspective, they are just getting started.

But for the time being, we will adhere to our operational definition. And within the window that we have created, Steven Navarro stood out. In his first year as a pro, “Kid Dynamite” left us yearning to see more of him.

Honorable mention: Australian heavyweight Teremoana Junior (5-0, 5 KOs)

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The Challenge of Playing Muhammad Ali

Published

10 hours ago

December 18, 2024

Thomas Hauser

There have been countless dramatizations of Muhammad Ali’s life and more will follow in the years ahead. The most heavily marketed of these so far have been the 1977 movie titled The Greatest starring Ali himself and the 2001 biopic Ali starring Will Smith.

The Greatest was fictionalized. Its saving grace apart from Ali’s presence on screen was the song “The Greatest Love of All” which was written for the film and later popularized by Whitney Houston. Beyond that, the movie was mediocre. “Of all our sports heroes,” Frank Deford wrote, “Ali needs least to be sanitized. But The Greatest is just a big vapid valentine. It took a dive.”

The 2001 film was equally bland but without the saving grace of Ali on camera. “I hated that film,” Spike Lee said. “It wasn’t Ali.” Jerry Izenberg was in accord, complaining, “Will Smith playing Ali was an impersonation, not a performance.”

The latest entry in the Ali registry is a play running this week off-Broadway at the AMT Theater (354 West 45th Street) in Manhattan.

The One: The Life of Muhammad Ali was written by David Serero, who has produced and directed the show in addition to playing the role of Angelo Dundee in the three-man drama. Serero, age 43, was born in Paris, is of Moroccan-French-Jewish heritage, and has excelled professionally as an opera singer (baritone) and actor (stage and screen).

Let’s get the negatives out of the way first. The play is flawed. There are glaring factual inaccuracies in the script that add nothing to the dramatic arc and detract from its credibility.

On the plus side; Zack Bazile (pictured) is exceptionally good as Ali. And Serero (wearing his director’s hat) brings the most out of him.

Growing up, Bazile (now 28) excelled in multiple sports. In 2018, while attending Ohio State, he won the NCAA Long Jump Championship and was named Big Ten Field Athlete of the Year. He also dabbled in boxing, competed in two amateur fights in 2022, and won both by knockout. He began acting three years ago.

Serero received roughly one thousand resumes when he published notices for a casting call in search of an actor to play Ali. One-hundred-twenty respondents were invited to audition.

“I had people who looked like Ali and were accomplished actors,” Serero recalls. “But when they were in the room, I didn’t feel Ali in front of me. You have to remember; we’re dealing with someone who really existed and there’s video of him, so it’s not like asking someone to play George Washington.”

And Ali was Ali. That’s a hard act to follow.

Bazile is a near-perfect fit. At 6-feet-2-inches tall, 195 pounds, he conveys Ali’s physicality. His body is sculpted in the manner of the young Ali. He moves like an athlete because he is an athlete. His face resembles Ali’s and his expressions are very much on the mark in the way he transmits emotion to the audience. He uses his voice the way Ali did. He moves his eyes the way Ali did. He has THE LOOK.

Zack was born the year that Ali lit the Olympic flame in Atlanta, so he has no first-hand memory of the young Ali who set the world ablaze. “But as an actor,” he says, “I’m representing Ali. That’s a responsibility I take very seriously. Everyone has an essence about them. I had to find the right balance – not too over the top – and capture that.”

Sitting in the audience watching Bazile, I felt at times as though it was Ali onstage in front of me. Zack has the pre-exile Ali down perfectly. The magic dissipates a bit as the stage Ali grows older. Bazile still has to add the weight of aging to his craft. But I couldn’t help but think, “Muhammad would have loved watching Zack play him.”

****

Twenty-four hours after the premiere of The One, David Serero left the stage for a night to shine brightly in a real boxing ring., The occasion was the tenth fight card that Larry Goldberg has promoted at Sony Hall in New York, a run that began with Goldberg’s first pro show ever on October 13, 2022.

Most of the fights on the six-bout card played out as expected. But two were tougher for the favorites than anticipated. Jacob Riley Solis was held to a draw by Daniel Jefferson. And Andy Dominguez was knocked down hard by Angel Meza in round three before rallying to claim a one-point split-decision triumph.

Serero sang the national anthem between the second and third fights and stilled the crowd with a virtuoso performance. Fans at sports events are usually restless during the singing of the anthem. This time, the crowd was captivated. Serero turned a flat ritual into an inspirational moment. People were turning to each other and saying “Wow!”

****

The unexpected happened in Tijuana last Saturday night when 25-to-1 underdog Bruno Surace climbed off the canvas after a second-round knockdown to score a shocking, one-punch, sixth-round stoppage of Jaime Munguia. There has been a lot of commentary since then about what happened that night. The best explanation I’ve heard came from a fan named John who wrote, “The fight was not over in the second round although Munguia thought it was because, if he caught him once, he would naturally catch him again. Plus he looked at this little four KO guy [Surace had scored 4 knockouts in 27 fights] the way all the fans did, like he had no punch. That is what a fan can afford to do. But a fighter should know better. The ref reminds you, ‘Protect yourself at all times.’ Somebody forgot that.”

photo (c) David Serero

Thomas Hauser’s email address is thomashauserwriter@gmail.com. His most recent book – MY MOTHER and me – is a personal memoir available at Amazon.com. https://www.amazon.com/My-Mother-Me-Thomas-Hauser/dp/1955836191/ref=sr_1_1?crid=5C0TEN4M9ZAH&keywords=thomas+hauser&qid=1707662513&sprefix=thomas+hauser%2Caps%2C80&sr=8-1

In 2004, the Boxing Writers Association of America honored Hauser with the Nat Fleischer Award for career excellence in boxing journalism. In 2019, Hauser was selected for boxing’s highest honor – induction into the International Boxing Hall of Fame.

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L.A.’s Rudy Hernandez is the 2024 TSS Trainer of the Year

Published

2 days ago

December 16, 2024

Arne K. Lang

L.A.’s Rudy Hernandez is the 2024 TSS Trainer of the Year

If asked to name a prominent boxing trainer who operates out of a gym in Los Angeles, the name Freddie Roach would jump immediately to mind. Best known for his work with Manny Pacquaio, Roach has been named the Trainer of the Year by the Boxing Writers Association of America a record seven times.

A mere seven miles from Roach’s iconic Wild Card Gym is the gym that Rudy Hernandez now calls home. Situated in the Little Tokyo neighborhood in downtown Los Angeles, the L.A. Boxing Gym – a relatively new addition to the SoCal boxing landscape — is as nondescript as its name. From the outside, one would not guess that two reigning world champions, Junto Nakatani and Anthony Olascuaga, were forged there.

As Freddie Roach will be forever linked with Manny Pacquiao, so will Rudy Hernandez be linked with Nakatani. The Japanese boxer was only 15 years old when his parents packed him off to the United States to be tutored by Hernandez. With Hernandez in his corner, the lanky southpaw won titles at 112 and 115 and currently holds the WBO bantamweight (118) belt. In his last start, he knocked out his Thai opponent, a 77-fight veteran who had never been stopped, advancing his record to 29-0 (22 KOs).

Nakatani’s name now appears on several pound-for-pound lists. A match with Japanese superstar Naoya Inoue is brewing. When that match comes to fruition, it will be the grandest domestic showdown in Japanese boxing history.

“Junto Nakatani is the greatest fighter I’ve ever trained. It’s easy to work with him because even when he came to me at age 15, his focus was only on boxing. It was to be a champion one day and nothing interfered with that dream,” Hernandez told sports journalist Manouk Akopyan writing for Boxing Scene.

Akin to Nakatani, Rudy Hernandez built Anthony Olascuaga from scratch. The LA native was rucked out of obscurity in April of 2023 when Jonathan Gonzalez contracted pneumonia and was forced to withdraw from his date in Tokyo with lineal light flyweight champion Kenshiro Teraji. Olascuaga, with only five pro fights under his belt, filled the breach on 10 days’ notice and although he lost (TKO by 9), he earned kudos for his gritty performance against the man recognized as the best fighter in his weight class.

Two fights later, back in Tokyo, Olascuaga copped the WBO world flyweight title with a third-round stoppage of Riku Kano. His first defense came in October, again in Japan, and Olascuaga retained his belt with a first-round stoppage of the aforementioned Gonzalez. (This bout was originally ruled a no-contest as it ended after Gonzalez suffered a cut from an accidental clash of heads. But the referee ruled that Gonzalez was fit to continue before the Puerto Rican said “no mas,” alleging his vision was impaired, and the WBO upheld a protest from the Olascuaga camp and changed the result to a TKO. Regardless, Rudy Hernandez’s fighter would have kept his title.)

Hernandez, 62, is the brother of the late Genaro “Chicanito” Hernandez. A two-time world title-holder at 130 pounds who fought the likes of Azumah Nelson, Oscar De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather Jr., Chicanito passed away in 2011, a cancer victim at age 45.

Genaro “Chicanito” Hernandez was one of the most popular fighters in the Hispanic communities of Southern California. Rudy Hernandez, a late bloomer of sorts – at least in terms of public recognition — has kept his brother’s flame alive with own achievements. He is a worthy honoree for the 2024 Trainer of the Year.

Note: This is the first in our series of annual awards. The others will arrive sporadically over the next two weeks.

Photo credit: Steve Kim

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