Bobby Chacon was nicknamed "the schoolboy", Chacon was a part of some of the greatest ring wars in the history of the sport, Chacon was a boxing fans dream come true, an action packed fighter that gave you every bit of himself every time he stepped in the ring. The way he fought, he just didn't care about getting hit, at times he seemed to enjoy it, a real gladiator that ate, slept, and breathed boxing. I'll profile Bobby Chacon later in the thread.
Alexis Arguello corners Bobby Chacon
Nov. 16, 1979: Arguello vs Chacon
Bobby Chacon had been an overnight sensation in California, a popular young fighter attracting big crowds to the Inglewood Forum and the Olympic Auditorium. But as quickly as he raised hopes and attracted fans, he let them down, losing his first world title just three months after winning it when he was stopped by Mexican legend Ruben Olivares in June of ’75.
Bobbychacon-777
The ever popular Bobby Chacon
It had been a rocky ride ever since, as the fighter they called “The Schoolboy” struggled to get another chance at a world title. Despite a big non-title win over Olivares in August of ’77, losses to Rafael “Bazooka” Limon and Arturo Leon held him back. But he had earned this shot at Arguello’s WBC super featherweight championship by rebounding with five wins, and a big crowd set the turnstiles spinning at the Forum, everyone hoping to see Chacon get to the top of the mountain again.
But if Bobby was the more popular fighter, there was no question as to who was the underdog in this match, as Alexis Arguello was both a distinguished titlist and a very dangerous puncher. Yes, he had suffered a non-title loss to crafty Vilomar Fernandez in July of 78, but that was the only setback of late, as Arguello had established himself as one of the game’s best champions with convincing victories over the same fighters who had given Chacon so much trouble: Olivares, Leon and Limon. Add in two big wins over former champ Alredo Escalera and you had an elite-level pugilist with almost impeccable credentials. Few thought Chacon had the required power and fortitude to take the title from “The Explosive Thin Man.”
Arguello
Arguello defeating Escalera in ’78.
But for six rounds Chacon made fools of the odds-makers. Showing the courage and skills which had earned him such an enthusiastic following on the west coast, the challenger, despite being five inches shorter, boxed with authority, making the champion miss time and again, “The Schoolboy” countering with sharp right hands. Bobby sustained a cut over his right eye in the second round, but it didn’t appear to bother the challenger as he jousted with smooth efficiency, winning rounds with a sharp jab, the counter right, and solid body punches. The champion stalked Chacon and on occasion landed some heavy body shots of his own, but Arguello was consistently beaten to the punch.
Chacon’s performance reminded ringsiders of his dominant knockout win in 1974 over current featherweight champion Danny Lopez as “The Schoolboy” stuck to his game-plan and smartly refused to go toe-with-toe with the powerful Arguello, instead slipping the champion’s shots to land his own. The champion knew he was behind and his frustration became evident in round six when, uncharacteristically, he deliberately struck the challenger after the bell. The obvious foul brought a rain of boos from the pro-Chacon crowd.
Peak Schoolboy: Chacon defeats future champ Danny Lopez in ’74.
But everything changed in round seven, as it can when one faces a fighter with legit one-shot knockout power. A perfectly timed right uppercut sent Chacon staggering across the ring. He dropped to a crouch and took an eight count and when action resumed Arguello pinned Bobby to the ropes and unleashed a furious barrage. Some punches landed, some missed, but the fusillade turned the cut from round two into a deep gash. Chacon was fighting back gallantly by the end of the round, but his face was covered in blood. Between rounds the ringside doctor ordered the fight stopped and it went into the books as a seventh round TKO.
Classy as always, Arguello gave credit where it was due: “Bobby Chacon is a good fighter, very intelligent. I told everyone it was going to be a tough fight and it was.”
“I have nothing to be ashamed of,” said the disappointed challenger. “It was the cut that did me in.”
Talk of a rematch was drowned out by the louder talk of Arguello stepping up to the lightweight division and going after a third divisional world title, something which, at that time, represented a remarkable feat. With Roberto Duran having recently departed the 135 pound division to pursue new glories in the welterweight class, most viewed Alexis as the heir apparent at lightweight. It had been decades since a fighter had won titles in three separate weight classes, and at this point only five boxers in the entire history of the sport had done it: Bob Fitzsimmons, Tony Canzoneri, Barney Ross, Henry Armstrong and Emile Griffith.
“Yes, I would like to fight as a lightweight,” stated Arguello, “but only if I can challenge for the title immediately. If a champion is willing to fight me, then I am ready.”
Meanwhile, many were wondering if the sun had set on Chacon. He was only twenty-seven, but that nasty cut was further evidence of a streak of bad luck that had dogged “The Schoolboy” ever since he lost his title to Olivares in ’74. Little did anyone know, but the most glorious wins for both fighters still lay ahead.
I wish all fights were like this one, a really competitive encounter with classy sportsmanship.
Alexis Arguello catches Ray Mancini with a right
Alexis Arguello makes the first defense of his WBC Lightweight Championship against undefeated warrior Ray Mancini. Mancini gets the jump on Arguello, winning the first half of the fight on work rate. The champion Arguello is patient, studying Mancini, analyzing him, gathering intelligence on him and then begins catching Mancini with flush shots in the seventh round. At the end of the twelfth, Mancini walks into a huge right hand that puts his knee on the canvas. Although he bounces back up and continues through a hard thirteenth round, Mancini gets dropped into the ropes by a pair of left hooks and a right hand in the fourteenth. The valiant Mancini again gets back to his feet, but Referee Tony Perez has already decided to stop the fight.
A great fight, fiercely competitive, with most of the early rounds belonging to Mancini, with Arguello doing most of his best work in the mid to late rounds.
Arguello is just absolutely beautiful to watch when he puts his punches together. He picks his spot with that right hand, but once he throws it, it's with bad intentions and straight as an arrow. In fact, nearly every shot he throws, even in the late rounds, is with pin point accuracy and straight. He really showed himself to be a 15 round fighter in this fight, whereas the less experienced Mancini, couldn't quite keep up with Arguello late on.
Mancini showed true grit and a hell of a chin to take all of those hard shots for as long as he did. He only had like 20 fights at the time, so to go toe to toe with Arguello and look good doing it is quite an achievement for somebody with only 20 fights. Hell of an effort. Most lightweights in history would have been destroyed by that final combination Alexis put together to end matters.
All Boxing detractors need to sit through this affair. The sportsmanship was unbelievable, I don't think Gil Glancy could believe it either, when Mancini actually stopped to make sure Alexis was okay. This was from a supposed thumbing, Alexis winced, and Mancini stopped and apologized.
The post fight interview was equally as touching, with Arguello wishing Mancini the best in his career, and talking very complimentary about his father.
All Boxing detractors, watch Mancini vs Arguello, it encompasses everything we love about the sport.
Alexis Arguello was 72-4 at the time of the Ray Mancini fight, he was on a 16 fight win streak, just one heck of a well oiled fighting machine was Alexis Arguello.
Sports Illustrated Vault | SI.com
LOWERING THE BOOM BOOM
LOWERING THE BOOM BOOM
LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMP ALEXIS ARGUELLO WAS TOO CLASSY, TOO CUNNING AND TOO MUCH FOR 20-YEAR-OLD RAY MANCINI, WHO MAY HAVE LEARNED A VALUABLE BOXING LESSON
It was a remarkable scene after what had been a remarkable fight. Alexis Arguello had retained his WBC lightweight championship by knocking out 20-year-old Ray (Boom Boom) Mancini at 1:46 of the 14th round. It was Mancini's first loss in 21 professional bouts. Mancini's lip was cut and his face was puffy, but considering the number of left jabs he had absorbed, Mancini didn't look too bad at the postfight press conference. He started with a little joke: "It would have been a helluvan upset, huh?"
It would have. Arguello is one of six men to have held world championships in three weight classes. At 29, he's at his peak: He's 16-1 in title fights—with 16 wins in a row—and has a 72-4 record. Still, last Saturday afternoon in an overcrowded ballroom in Bally's Park Place Casino Hotel in Atlantic City, Mancini gave Arguello all he could handle.
"I'm just glad it's over," Mancini said. "It takes a lot out of you—these championship fights." It had been a tense, emotional few days, and it showed. "The disappointment's going to hurt longer than these wounds. I wanted to win it for my father...." Mancini's voice cracked, and his eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry I'm not acting like a professional," he said, trying to smile.
In a few minutes, Arguello arrived. He is a strikingly handsome man, a slim Omar Sharif, but now there was a cut on his left eyelid and a purple crescent beneath it. "It was the best fight so far this year, my friend," he said to Mancini. Then, to the press: "I think my heart is special. But his heart is bigger than I have."
Arguello is a gentleman as well as an estimable champion, and he knew Mancini's story well—how Mancini wanted to win the championship for his father, Lenny (Boom Boom) Mancini, who was drafted in 1942 before he could fight for the lightweight title and then sustained a shrapnel wound in WW II that ended any hope for a title. The elder Mancini attended Saturday's fight in a wheelchair because he was convalescing from a heart-bypass operation three weeks before. "After the fight I saw Mancini's father," Arguello said, "and I felt bad." Then, as if he needed to explain the thundering right hand that dropped Mancini and obliged Referee Tony Perez to stop the bout, Arguello added, "But it's my job." He sounded apologetic.
Shortly afterward, Mancini excused himself to be with his father, pausing to say, "This isn't the end of the story. This is the standard first chapter. I'll be back. I'm just sorry that...sorry for all the people...." His voice began to crack again.
Which was when the champion put an arm around Mancini and spoke to him as one would to a younger brother: "You don't have to be sorry. This is a better experience than any fight you've ever had. You'll be better for this." Mancini nodded, and with a roomful of eavesdroppers, Arguello told the kid about his first title fight, how he had lost by decision to Ernesto Marcel in February 1974 and had cried afterward, how he now drew on that experience and was a better boxer because of it. This took place about 15 minutes after Arguello had nearly taken Mancini's head off. When the champ was through, Mancini thanked him and everybody clapped. Quite a show.
Arguello was born in Nicaragua, but has lived in Coral Gables, Fla. the past three years because of political strife in his homeland. He held the WBA featherweight title from 1974 to 1976 and the WBC junior lightweight title from 1978 to 1980, and last June he won the WBC lightweight championship from Jim Watt of Scotland. He has designs on Aaron Pryor's WBA junior welterweight title, which would make him the first to win championships in four divisions. He has even talked about moving up two divisions to fight Sugar Ray Leonard for the welterweight crown. "I don't need $10 million or $20 million," he concedes. "Just one million." The $400,000 he made fighting Mancini was his largest purse. "Mancini's strengths are that he's in great shape, he throws a lot of punches, and he's very aggressive," said Eddie Futch, Arguello's trainer, before the fight. "He makes fighters hurry their punches. But it's hard to hurry Arguello. Mancini's never been hit by a fellow that hits as hard as this guy."
The key to the fight, according to both men, was whether Arguello's left jab could keep Mancini from moving inside, where he's most effective. Said Arguello: "I have the equipment to fight him any way he wants, but I know if I get close to him, I'm in trouble."
The other question was whether Mancini, who fights best at a whirlwind pace, would have the stamina to go 15 rounds. "Arguello has won most of his title fights in rounds 10 to 15," Mancini said before the bout. "I'm a 15-round fighter, he's a 10-round fighter," Arguello would explain after the fight. And to his great pain, Mancini was proof of that assertion.
More than 500 fans from Mancini's hometown of Youngstown, Ohio had come to see the fight, and when the judges were announced, the Ohioans booed. Mancini's manager, Dave Wolf, claimed on the morning of the bout that "the fight's fixed—one of the promoters came to me with tears in his eyes, saying, 'The fix is totally on. You've got to win by a knockout, and even then you might get disqualified.' " The WBC had appointed a Nicaraguan judge, an American judge and a Puerto Rican judge. Tony Perez, the referee, is also Puerto Rican. "Three Latins out of four officials—what more do I have to say?" Wolf said, suggesting he might not let Mancini fight. He apologized after the fight. The judging and refereeing were faultless.
Arguello is a notoriously slow starter, and Mancini, who gave away 7½ inches in reach, was able to move in close early in the fight. Working hooks and uppercuts to the taller—5'9" to 5'4½"—Arguello, Mancini led after five rounds on two of the three judges' cards. Arguello kept jabbing, with little effect. Then Futch suggested right uppercuts to the body, and Arguello was able to keep Mancini at bay, winning rounds 7 through 9. Both Futch and Arguello would say later that the body blows were the turning point, although Mancini claimed that none was damaging. "A fighter doesn't feel the pain," Futch says, "but he becomes slower and drops his gloves just enough to open up the head."
After Round 10 one judge had Mancini ahead, one had Arguello and the third had the bout even. Then, at the start of those critical rounds, 11 to 15, Arguello rose to the occasion. "I tried everything I knew to get inside," Mancini said. "He just wouldn't let me."
In Round 12 Arguello went over Mancini's lowered guard with several straight right-hand shots—the last of which Mancini seemed to walk into—and Boom Boom went down, a few seconds before the bell, for the first time in his pro career. Mancini was in trouble throughout the 13th, and his corner nearly threw in the towel. He survived, however, and Wolf asked him between rounds how he felt. "I want to finish," Mancini said. He rushed out gamely for Round 14 and tried again to get inside, but Arguello finally caught him with two left hooks and, as Perez rushed to stop it, that final, devastating right to end the fight.
Afterward, Mancini's mother, Ellen, recalled the scene in the locker room when Boom Boom laid his head on his father's shoulder and cried in disappointment. "He told him, 'Daddy, I didn't bring it to you like I wanted to,' " she said. "Lenny was very calm and comforting. He told him, 'That's O.K., you're still our champ.' " Then she remembered what Arguello had said about how the loss would make Mancini a better fighter. It was small comfort. "You know?" she said, "I wish Alexis would move up to that other division now."
In the article above it says Arguello was a slow starter, that was because he usually spent the early rounds of a fight analyzing his opponent, studying him for weaknesses, he was very cerebral to his approach.
In 1983 Arguello fought Cornelius Boza-Edwards, Edwards was a very good fighter from Uganda who made a hell of a name for himself in the 80s, he was an all action fighter, entertaining as heck, he was hardly ever in a bad fight. In this fight, Arguello hit Edwards with some vicious body shots and gave Edwards a pretty good lesson in boxing. Arguello laid some brutal body shots on Edwards and Edwards later said he learned a lot in his fight with Arguello and that he learned to toughen up his body to be able to sustain more punishment to the body. The Arguello vs Edwards fight ended when Edwards didn't answer the bell for the ninth round, he had taken a pretty good trouncing from Arguello.
Alexis Arguello hits Cornelius Boza-Edwards with a body shot
In 1978 and 79, Alexis Arguello and Alfredo Escalera fought two of the most savage wars against each other the sport has ever seen, the first one was so brutal it is named "The Bloody Battle of Bayamon." The sequel didn't disappoint either. Alfredo Escalera was a colorful character, he used to show up at weigh-ins with his pet Python named Ali.
Alexis Arguello detonates a vicious right on the chin of Alfredo Escalera
ALEXIS ARGUELLO-ALFREDO ESCALERA II: A SUPERB SECOND ACT
As a rule, sequels seldom live up to their originals much less exceed them. This is especially prevalent in the film industry because for every one that soars above the imprint created by the first film (“The Godfather II,” “The Empire Strikes Back,” “Aliens”) there are dozens that, in retrospect, should never have been attempted ("Caddyshack II," "Grease II").
The same phenomenon applies to sports, especially boxing. It is rare that second acts rise above the bar established by the first but when it happens it's magical. The two-fight series between Bobby Chacon and Cornelius Boza-Edwards is a prime example; while their first fight was largely controlled by Boza-Edwards (who won by 14th round TKO when Chacon couldn't answer the bell), their epic second meeting won by Chacon was deemed THE RING's 1983 Fight of the Year.
Thirty five years ago today, Alexis Arguello and Alfredo Escalera managed to exceed the lofty standards established by their first meeting on Jan. 28, 1978, a fight so ferocious that it was dubbed “The Bloody Battle of Bayamon.” There, Arguello's elegant fists literally cut Escalera's face to ribbons and by the time the fight was stopped in round 13 the now ex-champion's upper lip was nearly torn off. Through it all Escalera fought with a mixture of passion and desperation that won plenty of hearts but wasn't enough to counteract Arguello's clinical savagery.
Arguello's impressive performance vaulted him into the pound-for-pound conversation with Roberto Duran, Carlos Zarate, Wilfredo Gomez, Danny “Little Red” Lopez, Antonio Cervantes, Miguel Canto and Pipino Cuevas among others. Arguello appeared on his way to a dream match with “Manos de Piedra” with knockout victories over Mario Mendez, Rey Tam and Diego Acala but a shocking majority decision loss to Vilomar Fernandez combined with Duran's need to move up in weight effectively killed that match. With Duran jumping to welterweight to pursue further glories, Arguello notched his third defense of the 130-pound belt with a methodical 15-round decision over Arturo Leon to set up the rematch with Escalera.
Five months after losing the belt to Arguello, Escalera returned to the ring with a 10-round decision over Rogelio Castanena in San Juan and 53 days later – as the co-feature to Fernandez-Arguello – he scorched Larry Stanton in three rounds. But three months later the MSG upset bug bit Escalera as Julio “Diablito” Valdez scored a surprising 10-round decision. Despite the defeat, Arguello-Escalera II was set for Feb. 4, 1979 at the Pellazo dello Sport in Rimini, Italy. Why Italy? Here's why: An available venue on relatively short notice, a favorable tax situation and the presence of heavyweight contender Alfio Righetti and Italian lightweight champion Giancarlo Usai on the undercard.
Arguello (60-4, 49 knockouts) strained to get his 5-foot-10 inch frame down to 129 while the 5-foot-8 Escalera (42-9-2, 27 KOs), who stuffed 10 title defenses in his two-and-a-half year reign before losing his crown to Arguello, scaled a more comfortable 129¾. Escalera, nicknamed “Salsero” for his love of salsa and “The Snake Man” for bringing his six-foot pet python Ali to weigh-ins and ring walks, went snake-less this night due to customs concerns. The claustrophobic 16-foot ring virtually guaranteed an action fight but little did anyone know how much action they were about to see.
Once the opening bell sounded it was clear Escalera had made several adjustments. First, he held his hands higher than in the first fight, surely remembering the effects of Arguello's thunderous and razor-sharp fists. Second, he appeared to have kicked his habit of throwing back-handed punches, a violation for which he was cautioned several times in fight one. Third, he was less willing to brawl with Arguello, something he considered a major mistake in their earlier encounter. Finally, he did a better job of blocking and ducking under Arguello's dangerous hooks. Conversely, Arguello was Arguello: Straight up stance, high guard, efficient punches, economical movement, sledgehammer power, Job's patience and artistic craftsmanship.
By the midway point of a probing round one Arguello scored with a pinpoint four-punch combination while the advancing Escalera connected with a short hook to the jaw. In the final minute Arguello's rapier jabs and heavier power shots penetrated Escalera's guard more often than the challenger's earnest but inaccurate efforts.
Escalera carried the first two minutes of round two by bulling Arguello to the ropes and pounding him with hooks, compact rights, sticky body shots and occasional uppercuts to the head and stomach. A heavy lead right spun Arguello's head but the champ, as always, kept his cool. Arguello rebounded well in the round's final 35 seconds with a hefty right to the chin, a potent hook to the face and a solid right-left that forced Escalera to give ground.
The bristling two-way action continued in the third with Arguello jabbing well to the body and throwing forceful hooks and overhand rights. Arguello drew first blood late in the round when a prickly jab cut the area under Escalera's right eye. This was no surprise, for the Mexican-made eight-ounce Casanova gloves featured a seam down each side that was thought to increase the probability of cuts.
A charged-up Arguello accelerated the pace in round four as he flurried to the body and fired powerful hooks and crosses every time Escalera tried to turn the tide. As Escalera's situation grew more desperate, his back-handing ways returned. Referee Angelo Poletti cautioned the challenger but refrained from issuing point penalties.
Escalera's crisis deepened midway through the fourth when a compact hook to the chin suddenly dropped Escalera on his behind near the ropes. Up at two, Escalera appeared OK as he wiped his gloves on his trunks and jumped up and down during the rest of Poletti's count. Arguello worked the left hand overtime as he tried to finish Escalera, but when that didn't work he fired a right-left-right that shook the ex-champ. Within a minute Escalera regained his equilibrium and even managed to land several blows at close range before round's end.
With blood cascading from Escalera's eye cut, the challenger tried to take the fight to Arguello in the fifth. That move proved disastrous because Arguello, even with his back to the ropes, still carried enormous power. Another crackling hook to the chin floored Escalera a second time and as he arose the furious challenger shook his arms in frustration. After taking the mandatory eight count Escalera threw himself into Arguello's cannons and the champion responded by landing a fusillade that drove the Puerto Rican across the ring. Every punch in the Arguello arsenal rained down on Escalera and a flush one-two to the jaw prompted Poletti to administer a standing eight count.
Even while standing on the cliff's edge in terms of losing the fight Escalera remained fearless. He hurled himself toward Arguello with both fists pumping and a long right to the jaw managed to temporarily stop Arguello in his tracks. Escalera more than held his own during a furious exchange at point-blank range and the Italian crowd, charmed by his bravery, adopted Escalera as their favorite. The last 20 seconds saw Escalera stage an improbable rally that grew stronger as the crowd grew louder. At the bell the two locked eyes for a long moment. Arguello cocked his head to the side and nodded his acknowledgement while Escalera returned the gesture with the tiniest bob of the head.
Escalera's stand ensured that if Arguello was to win, he'd have to work hard to earn it. But beside the two knockdowns, the challenger paid an additional price in the form of a severe cut over the left eye. No matter: Escalera long ago decided that victory would require his every resource — including the last drop of blood in his body.
Escalera continued to drive forward in the sixth, both to keep Arguello on the back foot and to prevent the champion from getting the necessary room to deliver his long-armed bombs. Although Arguello continued to score it was Escalera's seemingly quixotic quest that became the driving narrative.
Arguello's precision bombs widened Escalera's left eye cut to the point that it was gushing blood, prompting Poletti to call a medical time out. But before the ring physician could even react Escalera's chief second jumped onto the ring apron and wiped away the crimson with his towel. Poletti, apparently convinced all was well, allowed the fight to continue.
Escalera's go-for-broke tactics escalated in the seventh as several overhand rights nailed Arguello early in the session. Although behind on points and smarting from several facial injuries, Escalera had every reason to feel encouraged. He had absorbed Arguello's best punches and, despite two knockdowns and a standing eight-count, he wasn't only still standing but he also was fighting back hard. With the crowd solidly behind him, Escalera used that reservoir of positive energy to add to his foundation.
With a minute remaining in the seventh, Escalera's comeback effort reached a crescendo. Escalera maneuvered Arguello toward the ropes, then landed a pair of crunching hooks to the jaw that stunned the champion. Escalera's inspired follow-ups drove Arguello across the ring and suddenly the champion appeared to be in trouble. A long hook to the face opened a cut above Arguello's right eye and even after tasting a trademark Arguello cross Escalera, now spotting Arguello's cut, smirked and verbally taunted his tormentor. At the bell, Escalera wrapped his left arm around Arguello's neck and patted him on the face with his right glove.
"I've fought with cuts on my face almost every round I've faced you," Escalera's actions seemed to say. "Now, it's your turn."
Not only was Arguello cut over one eye, he also sported discolorations above and below the other. The momentum had clearly swung toward the challenger and it was up to Arguello to figure out a way to take it back.
Arguello started the eighth by going back to basics. He worked Escalera's eye with stiff jabs and fired power shots at every opportunity. But Escalera, still riding the wave of momentum, charged in and landed bombs with both hands. At one point he threw five consecutive hooks and when he bulled Arguello to the ropes he stayed on him by laying on the champion's chest and pumping away with clusters of hooks and uppercuts. A somewhat unruffled Arguello pawed at his cut with the right glove but quickly regained himself with a quick hook and a snappy jab to the face. Still, Escalera's high-energy pace carried the round.
As the ninth round opened ringside commentator Howard Cosell characterized the fight perfectly by labeling it "a tremendous fight. Vicious? Yes. Bloody? Yes. But two warriors, that's what they are. Each courageous, and Arguello appearing to be the more tired of the two. But it was Escalera who looked like he would be put away as early as the fourth or fifth round. He survived. He has come back."
The round's slower pace clearly benefited Arguello's thoughtful, cerebral approach. Granted the time to think and execute, Arguello's jabs worsened the cut around Escalera's left eye and stemmed the challenger's emotion-fueled surge. Arguello regained the crispness and rhythm of the early rounds and like Escalera before him he was comforted by the fact that he had taken the challenger's best and lived to tell about it. The question now: Who would produce the next big plot twist?
Following a give-and-take 10th edged by Arguello's sharper and heavier blows, the champion started the 11th with a vigorous assault that forced Escalera across the ring. Escalera quickly shook off the blows and delivered a jolting hook-cross combo.
As Escalera continued to come at Arguello his face was increasingly more unrecognizable. Not only was he cut around both eyes, the area over his left orb and the left side of his face was swollen and his mouth dripped blood. But still, he fought on. On the other hand Arguello's eye cut, thanks to chief second and cut man Arturo "Cuyo" Hernandez, was under control.
A huge one-two propelled Escalera back a half-step but the challenger instantly responded with a left uppercut to the jaw. Arguello nailed Escalera with a lead right to the face and a stabbing jab caused blood to pour out of the left eye cut. The brutality level rose with every passing second and with the end of the 11th there were 720 scheduled seconds of action remaining.
Though his body was badly compromised, Escalera's defiance continued to burn strongly as his overhand right landed flush on Arguello's jaw early in the 12th. The equally combative champion responded moments later with a rifle-shot lead right to the chin that paused Escalera's advance by mere moments. The pace remained kinetic and compelling despite the obvious physical toll.
It is unknown whether Arguello knew of, or cared about, the fears surrounding the number 13 but if ever a fighter had reason to debunk triskaidekaphobia it was he. Arguello captured his first world championship, the WBA featherweight title, by knocking out future Hall of Famer Ruben Olivares in the 13th. He won his second divisional championship by stopping Escalera in round 13. And he retained that championship by knocking out Escalera in round 13.
The end came with startling suddenness. As had been the case throughout the series it was a hook, not Arguello's vaunted right cross, that was Escalera's nemesis and this time the blow was short, exquisitely timed and definitive. Escalera fell backward to the canvas and tried valiantly to rise once again, but at Poletti's count of eight the challenger's legs gave out. Escalera spun to his left and fell face first into the white corner pad, his bloody face leaving a smear near the “M” in “Rimini.” Poletti had no choice but to count Escalera out. The time: 1:24.
The victorious Arguello congratulated his still-dazed rival seconds later as the crowd applauded both men's efforts. They – as well as everyone lucky enough to see it on TV – knew they had just witnessed a ring classic. Arguello couldn't have asked for a more fitting way to register the 50th knockout of his career while Escalera honored himself in defeat. It was a most worthy second act.
Though Escalera fought for four-and-a-half more years he never again challenged for a major title. A 10-round decision loss to Charlie “White Lightning” Brown in September 1983 brought down the curtain to a 13-year career that saw Escalera compile a 53-14-3 (31) record, including 11-4-1 (4) after the Arguello rematch.
Arguello, just 29 days younger than Escalera, experienced many further ring glories. He defended his 130-pound belt four more times against Rafael "Bazooka" Limon, Bobby Chacon, Ruben Castillo and Rolando Navarrete before giving it up due to weight issues. He seamlessly moved up to 135 by defeating Cornelius Boza-Edwards, Jose Luis Ramirez and Robert Vasquez and captured his third divisional title by outpointing respected WBC kingpin Jim Watt. The hits kept on coming as he disposed of Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini (KO 14), Roberto Elizondo (KO 7), James “Bubba” Buscheme (KO 6) and Andy Ganigan (KO 5) before history came calling again. A highlight reel KO of Kevin Rooney set up a superfight with Aaron Pryor in November 1982.
Arguello twice tried to become the first fighter ever to win major titles in four weight classes but “The Hawk” proved too much as he stopped “The Explosive Thin Man” in 14 rounds, then, in a sequel that at times neared the original's greatness, in 10. Over the next 11-plus years Arguello launched a pair of two-fight comebacks. He went 2-0 with two knockouts in the first before medical issues forced him to stay away for the next eight-and-a-half years. Then, two years after being enshrined in the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1992, Arguello launched a second comeback that saw him win a majority decision over Jorge Palomares, then lose a unanimous decision to the colorful Scott “Pink Cat” Walker. The final record: 89-8 (70).
Alexis Arguello defends his WBC junior lightweight title with a 13th round TKO of Alfredo Escalera, Arguello scored two knockdowns and forced a standing eight count before ending the fight with a left hook.
This brings us to the Aaron Pryor fights, Alexis Arguello fought Aaron Pryor twice, in both fights Arguello was attempting to become the first fighter in the history of boxing to win world championships in four weight divisions. These fights happened at the tail end of Arguello's career. If you're not familiar with Aaron Pryor, then you know nothing about boxing, he was nicknamed "The Hawk" and he earned that nickname because of the ferocious manner in which he devastated his opponents. Aaron Pryor finished his career with a record of 39-1, and the one loss on his record was to Bobby Joe Young at welterweight in a fight in which Pryor showed up out of shape and using drugs at the time. The fight ended when an accidental clash of heads occurred and the referee didn't see it. The referee thought that Young had legitimately knocked Pryor down. Pryor got up woozy, went back down to one knee, and was counted out, Young was awarded the KO victory. It was a joke of an ending, and I really wouldn't even count that loss on Pryor's record, so he was never really truly beaten in my opinion. Bobby Joe Young beat the ghost of Aaron Pryor, he didn't beat the real Aaron Pryor, the guy that loved the violence of boxing and pointed his glove at every opponent in a threatening manner before each fight. The real Aaron Pryor was an incredible fighter who the top fighters of his day avoided like the plague. He was fast, strong, hit incredibly hard, and was tougher than old shoe leather and mean as a snake. He had it all. I'll talk about the Arguello vs Pryor fights tomorrow, they were brutal fights and the first one had controversy that's talked about to this day.
Arguello vs Pryor I, This was one of the most epic fights in boxing history, and it was marked by controversy, what was in that Black bottle that Aaron Pryor drank from just before round 14?
40 Years Ago: The Aaron Pryor-Alexis Arguello Classic
Two great fighters, one of them going for history. Frenetic action, a brutal ending. And controversy. This and a whole lot more is what fight fans got 40 years ago today when Aaron Pryor and Alexis Arguello fought their epic 140 pound battle. Fighting in Miami, at The Orange Bowl, Pryor of Cincinnati, and Arguello of Nicaragua put it all on the line in daring to be great. For many fans, what followed was THE fight of the 1980s; which is of course saying plenty when we know we got super-fights such as Hagler-Hearns, Leonard-Hearns, Leonard-Hagler and more that decade. 27 year old Pryor, an absolute buzz-saw of a fighter who had energy to burn, his engine capable of driving him on relentlessly, was unbeaten at 31-0 and he was making the sixth defence of the WBA and Ring Magazine light-welterweight titles. Pryor was hungry (see starving) for the kind of mainstream stardom Arguello enjoyed. Arguello, three years the older man, was 72-5 and he had ruled the world at featherweight, super-featherweight and lightweight. Against Pryor, Arguello was attempting to make history, this by becoming the first boxer to win world titles in four different weight divisions. Pryor, the rugged, all-action warrior, and Arguello, the classy (in and out of the ring), smooth operator, served up one of the greatest fights in history. Both men came out firing on all cylinders, giving us an opening round that ranks right up there with the torrid Hagler-Hearns round one (which was, at this time, still some two-and-a-half years away). Pryor, setting the pace the way Hagler would in his greatest fight, was met by Arguello, who stood and traded shots with the defending champ. The tone was set – it was all guns blazing and both warriors were keen to slug it out. The rounds were seemingly flying by and Pryor, with his faster hands, was edging quite a few of them. But Arguello, with his vaunted punching power, was always dangerous. Simply put, nobody could dare take their eyes off the action for even a second. Both men showed an amazing chin, Pryor especially. Eventually, indeed inevitably, with his punch output having long since reached the point of crazy, Pryor at last began to show fatigue, to slow down. Busted up around the face, “The Hawk” was fighting the hardest fight of his career. But so too was Arguello. The Championship Rounds were super-special. Arguello landed flush shots on Pryor in the 13th, his bombs somehow being taken by the possessed champion. And then came the aforementioned controversy. Between rounds 13 and 14, Pryor, looking dead-tired, was given a drink from the infamous “black bottle.” Pryor’s trainer, Panama Lewis, was overheard in the corner asking for a specific bottle – “no, not that one, the one I mixed.” What was in the bottle nobody can ever say, but this much is known: Pryor roared out for round 14 with fire and fury. Pryor was devastating in his renewed attack, the champion battering an almost exhausted Arguello around the ring. Then, with Arguello stuck on the ropes, Pryor unleashed hell, this in the form of around 20 unanswered punches. Arguello refused to fall but he was in bad shape. Eventually, as the third man dived in to stop the fight, Arguello collapsed to the mat, utterly beaten. It was a savage ending to a brutal fight. It’s a shame the controversial element attached to this fight threatened to spoil it a little. In the eyes of some, Pryor’s magnificent win IS tarnished due to the suspicion of cheating on the part of his trainer (also, Pryor did not undertake a post-fight drug test; the fighter and his team stating how no-one had come and asked for a urine sample). A rematch had to happen and it did. This time, 10 months later, and Pryor stopped Arguello in the tenth round. By this time, Panama Lewis had been banned from boxing due to taking the padding out of the gloves of another of his fighters, Luis Resto; this in the Billy Collins fight of June, 1983. For the Arguello return, Pryor was cornered by Emanuel Steward. Pryor had again proven he was too much for Arguello, with or without Panama Lewis in his corner. Still, the controversy refused to go away. But all these years later, and fight fans everywhere celebrate the classic fight that took place four decades ago. Some things cannot be spoiled, no matter what.
So that's the big controversy that is talked about to this day, what was in that Black bottle that Pryor's trainer Panama Lewis gave to him before the start of round 14? For what it's worth, I don't know what was in it, if anything, and I don't think it matters one bit. Aaron Pryor was just a damn great fighter and the great Alexis Arguello had just met his match. It was hard to watch Arguello stopped so brutally like that, I love Arguello, he's right up there at the top of my list of favorites, but Arguello would tell you himself, that's boxing. In my opinion, what made the difference in the fight was Aaron Pryor's sheer aggression, he was just a different animal, with a kill or be killed mindset.
Alexis Arguello after being brutally stopped by Aaron Pryor in their first fight.
Here is a bit more about the infamous Black bottle in the first Arguello vs Pryor fight. Like I said, personally I think the whole thing is ridiculous, this is Aaron freaking Pryor we're talking about, he didn't need any help, the man was a werewolf.
Referee Stanley Christodoulou cradles the fallen Arguello
AFTER 40 YEARS, AARON PRYOR-ALEXIS ARGUELLO 1 STILL AMONG THE GREATEST MATCHUPS OF ALL TIME
Some of the most memorable fights in boxing history are commemorated in large part because of a controversial ending or an unusual in-fight occurrence. Set pieces that fall into that category, wholly or in part, include Mike Tyson’s “Bite Fight” disqualification loss to Evander Holyfield, Julio Cesar Chavez’s 12th-round stoppage of Meldrick Taylor only two seconds from the final bell in JCC’s desperate bid to pull out a victory in a fight he was losing on the scorecards, and Jack Dempsey’s “Long Count” points setback to Gene Tunney, in which the “Manassa Mauler” refused to promptly go to a neutral corner after registering a seventh-round knockdown, giving Tunney precious additional seconds to recover. Fans are left to forever speculate and debate as to how those and similar asterisk-highlighted bouts might have concluded for historical purposes had circumstances played out a bit differently.
“I knew that in the final rounds the man would be divided from the boy.”
– Aaron Pryor
A familiar addition to the list of “what-if?” matchups is the November 12, 1982, battle that pitted Ring/WBA junior welterweight champion Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor against Ring/WBC lightweight titlist Alexis Arguello in Miami’s Orange Bowl. Conspiracy theorists, mostly those who supported Arguello, hold firm to the notion that the Nicaraguan national hero, who was bidding to become the first boxer to win widely recognized world title belts in four weight classes, was the victim of shenanigans orchestrated by Pryor’s shady and later-disgraced trainer, Panama Lewis. The outcome of the savage, two-way battle was still seemingly in doubt when, during the one-minute break between Rounds 13 and 14, Lewis told another of Pryor’s cornermen to give him a black water bottle, “the one I mixed,” which led to speculation it contained an illegal and performance-boosting substance. After taking a swig or two from the bottle, Pryor – who had been fighting at his characteristically furious pace since the opening bell – again came out blasting, initiating a sequence in which he landed 15 unanswered blows that sent Arguello slumping to the canvas, where he remained unconscious for nearly four minutes. Arguello finally was revived after receiving oxygen, but nearly seven minutes had elapsed before he could be helped onto his stool, after which he was taken to a nearby hospital for observation.
The fact that Lewis eventually served prison time for removing glove padding and doctoring the handwraps of his fighter Luis Resto, an underdog journeyman who administered a particularly brutal beating to hot prospect “Irish” Billy Collins on June 16, 1983, gave some credence to the possibility that Pryor might also have benefited from unpermitted assistance from his chief second in the first of his two classic showdowns with Arguello. But Pryor made a strong case that he needed no such help, as his 14th-round flurry was in line with the torrid pace he had maintained all along. And his even more emphatic 10th-round knockout of Arguello in their September 9, 1983, rematch at Las Vegas’ Caesars Palace seemingly ended most if not all doubt as to who was the better of the two future Hall of Famers, at least on the nights in question.
Pryor was known for his menacing intensity.
And if all that weren’t enough, Arguello, who later became fast friends with Pryor — as can happen with fighters who earn one another’s undying respect in the cauldron of the ring — said he harbored no lingering suspicions that the Cincinnati native had gained an advantage from the contents of the notorious black bottle, which was not examined by the same Florida boxing commission that also failed to subject Pryor to urinalysis testing. Lewis steadfastly maintained that the only thing in the bottle was peppermint schnapps.
“There are 24 rounds between us that I can never forget,” Arguello told me during the IBHOF’s 1995 induction festivities, which he attended along with Pryor. “From the first round of the first fight, when the bell rang, we gave 100 percent of ourselves.”
And the “black bottle” brouhaha?
“I did my best,” Arguello shrugged. “The other guy did better. That’s simple enough to understand.”
Also simple to understand is that those 24 rounds of trial by combat have so risen in legend and lore that the status of their rivalry, especially the 14 rounds of their epic first meeting, now are viewed as more meaningful than they were the night that the combatants electrified an on-site crowd of 23,800, a remarkable turnout considering that the telecast was also readily available to HBO subscribers in Dade and Broward counties. Consider this: Pryor-Arguello I was not The Ring magazine’s 1982 Fight of the Year; Bobby Chacon’s 15-round unanimous-decision dethronement of WBC junior lightweight champion Rafael “Bazooka” Limon was. But lack of that designation, as it turned out, did not prevent Pryor-Arguello from receiving a major upgrade eight years later. By the end of the 1980s, The Ring had proclaimed Pryor-Arguello I as its Fight of the Decade, in addition to being the eighth-greatest boxing match ever. There are those who would say that its place on the all-time pecking order might also gain some upward mobility if the electorate was called upon for a revote.
None of the plaudits going to a truly great test of wills and skills would be flowing so freely had not the action inside the ropes justified it, but the lead-up to fight night checked off all the boxes for creating interest that spread nationwide (and beyond) like wildfire. For one thing, the in-their-prime pairing of two of boxing’s best was the first major bout staged in the Miami area since Muhammad Ali, still then known as Cassius Clay, gave pretty strong evidence that he really was the “Greatest,” or soon would be, with his sixth-round stoppage of heavily favored heavyweight champion Sonny Liston in the Miami Beach Convention Center.
Even more so than boxing’s long-delayed grand return to Miami, however, the matchup of the 27-year-old Pryor, who entered the ring with a 31-0 record with 29 knockouts, and the 30-year-old Arguello, who came in with a 72-5 mark with 59 KOs, represented all that boxing is supposed to be but isn’t as often as it should be. (See the maddeningly long delay in making the Floyd Mayweather Jr.-Manny Pacquiao megafight, or the ongoing difficulty in pairing Errol Spence Jr. and Terence “Bud” Crawford for the undisputed welterweight championship.) Pryor-Arguello was widely viewed as a 50/50 fight of two outstanding fighters, with vastly different styles and personalities, while they were at or near their peak efficiency.
Pryor’s hard trek to success from a lifetime of poverty, and the assortment of grudges that can arise from his dire youthful circumstances, stamped him one of the angriest of his sport’s angry young men, maybe as much as his frenetic, nonstop punching style. “The Hawk” (named so “because I swoop down on my opponents,” he explained) not only threw punches in bunches, he fired away as if his finger was always pressed down hard on the trigger of a pugilistic machine gun with an unending belt of bullets. As his stature grew with each knockout (he arrived in Miami with a streak of 21 consecutive victories inside the distance), so were fight fans increasingly familiarized with his dysfunctional childhood and adolescence. And the formidable punching power Pryor so frequently exhibited on the way to achieving elite status had done nothing to lift the Sequoia-sized chip off his shoulder.
Arguello vs. Cornelius Boza-Edwards in 1980.
Denied a place on the 1976 U.S. Olympic boxing team because of a loss at the Trials to eventual gold medalist Howard Davis Jr., Pryor chafed at having to turn pro with a string of below-the-radar fights for three-figure purses while Davis signed a $1.5 million contract with CBS. Pryor also was resentful of the fact that the most popular of America’s breakthrough stars of the ’76 Montreal Olympics, Sugar Ray Leonard, did not use his considerable clout to get him in any of the televised preliminary bouts on Leonard’s high-profile cards. Incredibly, Pryor did not appear on national TV until his 22nd pro bout.
In a profile of Pryor for Sports Illustrated, Pat Putnam wrote that “his lifestyle outside the ring is, unfortunately, as confusing and destructive as his tactics within it.” Still, for all Pryor’s inability to comfortably fit within polite society, Putnam acknowledged that he “without question is the most exciting fighter in the world. He fights like a driven, obsessed man, and in a way that’s manifested by a quest for acceptance.”
Everything about Pryor stood in stark contrast to the flawless and pristine image in and out of the ring presented by Arguello, who steadfastly declined to engage opponents in pre-fight trash-talking. Even after Pryor tried to get under his skin by sarcastically calling him “Alice” after their fight date was first announced, Arguello refused to respond in kind, and his effusive praise of the man with whom he would swap punches even had the effect of getting Pryor to tone down his normally inflammatory rhetoric. But that didn’t mean Pryor felt he was being accorded the same respect from the media and public as was being shown to Arguello.
“I’m 31-0, 29 knockouts, and still proving myself,” he complained. “Every time I fight, my opponent’s supposed to be so good before the fight, but after I beat him they write about what he was and what he used to be.”
Perhaps because Miami has such a large Latino population that has always been supportive of one of its own, Arguello — who turned pro at bantamweight, was making the jump from 135 and would be fighting for the first time at 140 — was getting most of the sports book action. For those favoring Arguello, another step up in weight did not matter much, if at all. Maybe that’s because they remembered how dominant he had been in dethroning Scotland’s Jim Watt for the Ring/WBC lightweight championship on June 20, 1981, in London.
“I have a car business, and if I had to do an estimate on my face, I’d say it’s totaled,” Watt said of the gory reflection he saw in the mirror in his dressing room.
Others picking Arguello reasoned that his non-frenzied demeanor and laser-accurate counterpunching would largely neutralize and ultimately overcome Pryor’s hair-on-fire tactics from the opening bell. “I’ll take precision any day over power,” Arguello said when asked how his more patient style matched up against Pryor’s. “If he starts with fire, we might be playing with fire. I don’t know.”
Regardless of who all the media types saw as the eventual winner, most envisioned a fight that would live up to the runaway hype.
“This is a great fight, everything you want,” mused Ferdie Pacheco, Muhammad Ali’s personal physician and an NBC TV boxing analyst. “You have a good-looking, polite gentleman and the bizarre villain. ‘The Hawk’ can only fight exciting – he has a hysterical style and he’s one of the toughest little guys I’ve seen. You’ve got to kill him to get him out of the ring. But I can’t see how he can overcome all the experience and the beautiful style of Arguello.”
Arguello began to find his mark more often in the middle rounds. (Photo by Manny Millan /Sports Illustrated via Getty Images)
Pacheco’s view was more or less seconded by the Miami Herald’s esteemed sports columnist Edwin Pope, who had been a collegiate boxer at the University of Georgia. Pope wrote that “I just think the hummingbird (Arguello) will dodge the hurricane (Pryor).”
Taking a contradictory position were the Miami-based Dundee brothers, Chris and Angelo, who felt that Hurricane Aaron represented howling winds and a tidal surge too high and powerful for even Arguello to withstand indefinitely.
“I take Pryor,” said Chris. “Too strong, too young, too much pressure.”
Added Angelo: “I make it a very tough fight. Everybody seems to be picking Arguello. I lean a little toward Pryor. One thing that offsets a precision fighter like Arguello is a fighter you can’t program. And you can’t program Pryor. You don’t know which way he’s going to come at you.”
The main event was preceded by a spectacular fireworks display (and a loaded undercard that featured appearances by three former world champions, including Roberto Duran) that hinted at what was to follow. As expected, Pryor went at Arguello as if he were a cavalry commander leading the Charge of the Light Brigade. Maybe not as expected to some, Arguello had difficulty settling into a rhythm in the face of such unabated ferociousness.
“One thing that offsets a precision fighter like Arguello is a fighter you can’t program. And you can’t program Pryor.”
– Angelo Dundee
But Arguello began to find openings to place stinging shots in the middle rounds, which had the effect of inciting Pryor to again pick up the pace. He came out for the 14th round reinvigorated – maybe because of the contents of the mysterious black bottle, and maybe not – and his frantic flurry caused referee Stanley Christodoulou to step in and wave things off at the 1:06 mark. It went into the books as a TKO, as Christodoulou did not bother to initiate a count as an out-cold Arguello slowly slid to the canvas.
The official scorecards entering the climatic 14th round had Christodoulou and judge Ove Ovesen of Denmark favoring Pryor by 127-124 margins while judge Ken Morita of Japan saw Arguello ahead by 127-125.
“I tornadoed him the first five rounds, then he started picking me apart in the middle rounds, but I stormed back,” said Pryor, who was paid a career-high $1.6 million (after a slim payday of just $100,000 for his preceding defense, a sixth-round stoppage of Japan’s Akio Kameda on July 4, 1982) to $1.5 million for Arguello. “He weathered the storm early. He’s a great champion — not was, but is. It was an educational fight for me. He showed me a lot. He showed me there are some guys who have a heart as big as mine.
“Arguello is very strong, the hardest puncher I’ve ever faced. But he never had me worried. I never thought it was over. At the end of the 11th round, I yelled to Arguello, ‘Come on, this is it. Let’s fight.’ I knew that in the final rounds the man would be divided from the boy … At the end of the fight, it sort of reminded me of Muhammad Ali’s bout with Larry Holmes. I looked at Alexis and I sort of felt sorry for him.”
Writer John Crittenden praised Arguello as having “movie-star looks and a gentleman’s manners” and “the stuff that brought honor to this pugnacious game. He was a breath of fresh air in a sport filled with the smell of stale cigar smoke and sweat.”
All well and good, but Arguello’s good manners ultimately were trumped by what Pryor brought to the fray, described by Crittendon as “eyes wild with the fury he would soon send into his fists.”
The rematch, won more convincingly by Pryor, was not the end of the tale involving two future inductees into the International Boxing Hall of Fame (Pryor was inducted in 1996, the capstone to a great career in which he went 39-1 with 35 KOs, and Arguello in 1992 with an 82-8 mark with 65 KOs). Both fighters returned to Canastota, New York, on several occasions, and in tandem they were among the most sought-after targets of autograph-seekers who recognized how they were destined to march into history as individuals and as partners in an epic rivalry that has endured the test of time.
“It’s like a dream come true every time I’m here,” Pryor told me in 2013 of the rush he always got from showing up for the IBHOF induction festivities, which he did 20 times. “You can get hooked. If you come once, you’re probably going to come year after year after year. To me, it’s one of the greatest feelings you could ever have to come to this special place. I look forward to it like a little kid looks forward to Christmas. The fans just take you in. They embrace you.”
Interestingly, the angry bad boy of boxing that Pryor had been found a measure of peace years after he conquered an opponent even more daunting than Arguello. He took his first hit of cocaine days after his second confrontation with Arguello, in “The Hawk’s” adopted hometown of Miami, where, I wrote, “pharmaceutical escapes from reality were as much a part of the landscape as palm trees and white-sand beaches.” It wasn’t too long that his addictions, taxes and alimony from two failed marriages ate away at his ring earnings until nothing was left.
“After Buddy (LaRosa, his estranged manager) took his half, the government took its half (of what was left),” Pryor said. “Then after that, my wife at the time had to have her half. After everybody got their half, I didn’t have half of nothing.”
Pryor was sentenced to prison on a drug conviction in 1991, and the following year he was a homeless crack addict living on the streets of his hometown of Cincinnati, shadowboxing in alleyways for handouts that might allow him to score his next drug hit. His weight dwindled to 100 pounds or so, and he admitted to considering suicide. But Pryor found love and redemption with his third wife, Frankie, also a recovering cocaine addict. By the time of his induction into the IBHOF, he was clean, and he remained so until his death, 11 days before his 61st birthday on October 20, 2016. His listed cause of death was heart disease, very likely accelerated by his cocaine addiction, but he had found the sort of contentment that proved so elusive even during his championship reign.
Arguello, the shining knight of his sport, took a turn for the worse after retirement, and for reasons that had once bedeviled Pryor. He was 57 and the mayor of Managua, Nicaragua’s capital, when he died on July 1, 2009, reportedly of a self-inflicted gunshot to his head, although many continue to believe foul play was involved. His apparent suicide came after his own descent into drug addiction and financial and marital difficulties.
Where Pryor and Arguello rate among the all-time greats continues to be a matter of individual or formulaic perspective. The Ring, using a complex system in which points were awarded on a variety of weighted scales, listed Arguello as the 22nd best fighter of the magazine’s 100-year existence in its February 2022 collector’s issue, with Pryor – arguably the best junior welterweight of all time – far back in the pack at No. 80. Another collector’s special, from June 2022, had Arguello at No. 18 of the 100 greatest punchers of the last 100 years while Pryor didn’t make the cut at all.
So let the arguments begin, or at least continue. What is indisputable is that two men, so alike in some ways and so starkly different in other ways, made magic on the night of November 12, 1982. Fight fans everywhere can only hope that Spence and Crawford, if they ever are to share the spotlight, can produce more of the same.
Words do this sport no justice, and words do the Arguello vs Pryor rivalry no justice. Here you have a man, Alexis Arguello, he beat nearly everyone you put in front of him, he was a legend and a hero to many, trying his damnest to make history and become the only man to win a championship in four weight divisions. It just wasn't meant to be and in the 10th round of their rematch, Alexis Arguello accepted that he just couldn't beat Aaron Pryor, that the dream was over.
Sept. 9, 1983: Pryor vs Arguello II
Do a Google search for Alexis Arguello and you end up with articles and videos about Aaron Pryor. Do one for Aaron Pryor and you end up with all kinds of links and posts about Alexis Arguello. It may not be entirely fair to either man, but these two champions and Hall Of Famers are defined to a great extent by each other. Much like Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, or John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg, the legacies and identities of Arguello and Pryor are wound up with each other and the two titanic battles they gave us in the early 1980s. And because those two clashes were so consequential, not to mention furiously competitive and exciting, they dwarf in significance almost every other match on their records. The destinies of these two warriors can never be separated.
As shattering as it was for Arguello when Pryor turned back his historic bid to become the first man to win world titles in four weight divisions, the experience of losing a major fight was not new to “The Explosive Thin Man.” In fact, as a young pro, he had lost two of the first five matches of his career, and in 1974 he failed in his initial attempt to win a world title, dropping a decision to Ernesto Marcel. He more than made up for that setback when he stopped Hall of Fame champion Ruben Olivares later the same year, and so began his great run as one of the best boxers on the planet. But even as a champion, Arguello knew defeat, dropping a split decision to Vilomar Fernandez in a non-title match in 1978.
But the loss to Pryor in 1982 was far more devastating. It wasn’t so much that in Pryor he encountered his most relentless and formidable adversary and that he took more punishment than in any previous bout, but more the fact that this was, by a large margin, the biggest fight of Alexis Arguello’s career, one of the biggest of the 80’s, a decade of huge fights. It was about the fact that Arguello had been perfectly positioned to become a superstar, and that the thousands in Miami’s Orange Bowl that November night were there expressly to see Alexis win, to see a new king of the sports world crowned.
One of the reasons Arguello was poised to become a true crossover star, joining the likes of Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran and Marvin Hagler as mainstream attractions, was because of his reputation for class and sportsmanship. Previous to his showdown with Pryor, his most high-profile match had been his 1981 title defense against Ray Mancini, a bout watched by millions on live national television. Young “Boom Boom” Mancini’s quest to win a world championship for his father, a top contender in the 1940’s whose ring career was cut short when he joined the army during World War II, had captured the imagination of American sports fans. They cheered him on as he gave Arguello a tough and exciting battle before Ray succumbed to the more experienced champion in round fourteen. But in the post-fight interviews, the victor was nothing short of gallant, expressing admiration and respect for Ray and predicting Mancini would soon come back and win a world title, a forecast which came true short months later.
“The Hawk” overwhelms Arguello in Miami.
This display of sportsmanship made a huge impression and endeared Alexis to millions. And in the victories that followed, all broadcast on live television, sports fans could count on Arguello — now regarded as one of the finest pugilists in the world pound-for-pound, as well as an elder statesman and a latter-day great — to offer his fallen opponents similar classy gestures. But in the aftermath of the loss to Pryor, sports fans saw a different side of the triple-crown king.
It’s important to remember that most boxing experts thought Arguello too experienced and skilled for Pryor, and that his fans eagerly anticipated their hero establishing himself as nothing short of a sports legend with a monumental win. The pressure was immense and so was the disappointment when Alexis was pummeled into helplessness at the end of a sensational battle. Looking back, we know there was no shame at all in losing to the irrepressible force of nature that was a prime Aaron Pryor, but at the time many viewed “The Hawk” as not quite in Arguello’s league. And such was the Nicaraguan’s mortification at his defeat that, by his own admission, he feigned unconsciousness after the bout was stopped, frightening many as he lay unresponsive on the canvas for several long minutes.
Arguello after being stopped in round fourteen.
And so the Alexis Arguello who emerged from the ring that night in Florida was a different man from the one who entered it. However, it was not defeat alone which left its mark on him, so much as defeat when millions of Latin Americans were fervently praying for his victory and betting large sums of money that he would redeem those prayers. Under the intense pressure, and with all the expectations and the ensuing disappointment, he cracked, and instead of modesty and class, Arguello showed the world bitterness and spite. Immediately following the loss he blamed his trainer, Eddie Futch, claiming the legendary coach had “overtrained” him and sapped his endurance. He would later apologize for the rash statement, calling it “the biggest mistake of his life,” but not before the venerable Futch vowed to never work with him again.
But no matter, there was in fact a better excuse to seize upon, that being the mysterious “mixed” water bottle which Pryor’s trainer, Panama Lewis, called for that night, just before the champion charged out and battered Arguello into submission. Those sympathetic to Alexis pointed to foul play by Lewis, especially after he was caught tampering with Luis Resto’s gloves the following June and was subsequently banned from boxing. Surely the real reason why Alexis Arguello, seemingly fated to make sports history in Miami, had fallen to a fighter most expected him to vanquish, was that Lewis, or someone, had undermined fair competition. Surely something explained the outcome other than the possibility that, while Arguello was a legend and a three division champion, Aaron Pryor had simply been the better man on the night.
Thus, the need to redeem himself, and rectify what many viewed as an unjust outcome, became Arguello’s obsession. And one might have thought that, given the status of the boxers and the sheer excitement of that first savage encounter, a rematch would have been the simplest and easiest of things to arrange. And yet it was not. Pryor held the World Boxing Association version of the super-lightweight title, and the WBA, for reasons no one could fathom, refused now to rank Arguello in their top ten, which meant he was not eligible for another title match. The sheer absurdity of the situation did not deter the WBA from denying him a ranking for several months, during which time both Pryor and Alexis made ring appearances, in the process risking millions of dollars.
Pryor, obeying the WBA’s bidding, turned in a perfunctory defense of his title, beating a boxer the sanctioning body absurdly deemed better than Alexis Arguello, Sang Hyun Kim of Korea. The fight was a deplorable mismatch and ended in round three. Meanwhile, Arguello, driven as he was to redeem himself, even though no redemption was needed given a career already more than Hall of Fame worthy, elected to face his former conqueror, Vilomar Fernandez, just four months after the loss to Pryor. He won a unanimous decision, but when the WBA still denied him a ranking, he then fought former WBA champion Claude Noel, who succumbed to Alexis in three rounds. Arguello was in fact preparing to face rising contender Billy Costello when, finally, the geniuses at the WBA realized the error of their ways and granted him a top ten ranking. And just like that, the rematch was on.
When Arguello vs Pryor II was officially announced, anticipation was just as high as for the first bout, but for different reasons. What spurred ticket sales in ’82 was adulation for Arguello and the expectation of history being made; this time it was the more straight-forward anticipation of straight-up excitement, of another action-packed war, that first scintillating clash regarded as one of the most exciting fights of recent years. But this time far fewer pundits were willing to bet the farm on Arguello seizing that fourth world title and thus the allure and magic of the initial Arguello vs Pryor battle was conspicuously absent. Instead of a massive football stadium filled to the rafters with delirious Latin Americans, the rematch was held at the more banal environs of Caesars Palace in Las Vegas.
Looking back, the more modest expectations, the delays and obstructions in allowing the rematch to happen: it was as if something was trying to save Alexis Arguello from a harsh reckoning with reality, with the painful truth that his failure to fulfill the expectations of so many had nothing to do with over-demanding trainers or mixed water bottles, but instead was about a driven champion in his prime who refused to lose.
And indeed, Arguello’s fate was evident, to all but the most hopeful, early in the final act of this almost-Shakespearean drama of ambition and hubris. At the bell, Pryor vs Arguello II started in the same fashion as the first fight, with a thrilling, fast-paced, toe-to-toe slugfest in the opening round, both warriors showing no fear and letting go huge punches, both men landing. But just forty seconds in Pryor threw two jabs and then an overhand right which clipped Alexis on the chin; the challenger stumbled backwards and toppled to the floor. Right then and there the worst fears of the Arguello faithful appeared confirmed. But Alexis was not prepared to accept that Pryor’s speed, aggressiveness and punching power were more than he could handle. Instead he rose and battled back valiantly, shaking Pryor before the end of the round with heavy right hands of his own.
Arguello down in round four.
Arguello down in round four.
Alexis rebounded in the next two rounds and in fact he imposed his will in a way he never had in the first fight, throwing combinations of power punches and forcing Pryor to give ground. In the second a right hand buckled the champion’s legs, sending him stumbling across the ring near the end of Arguello’s best round yet against “The Hawk.” And in round three it was the challenger hurting the champion with left hooks and right uppercuts to the body, Pryor smiling and shaking his head even as he backed away and flinched in the face of Arguello’s onslaught.
But just as his fans felt hope stirring in their hearts, Alexis was on the canvas again in round four after Pryor unleashed one of his whirling attacks and pounded home a huge right hand followed this time by a sharp left hook. Alexis beat the count and Pryor rushed in for the kill and the result was a series of furious exchanges, both men landing as the crowd roared, Arguello almost going down again. At the bell to end the round, the dazed challenger marched to the wrong corner.
But if Pryor or anyone else thought the man some called “El Caballero del Ring” was finished, they were dead wrong. The challenger surged back in the very next round, using his jab effectively and throwing combinations behind it. By round seven one of boxing’s great body punchers was finding a groove and crashing heavy artillery to Pryor’s belly, the painful blows causing the champion to complain to referee Richard Steele that more than a few were straying south of the border. Arguello pressed, striking with more body punches as well as right hands to the head, and he continued in round eight, mixing his punches beautifully, staggering the champion with heavy shots and giving his fervent fans reason to hope.
But just as Arguello appeared on the verge of taking over the fight, referee Steele abruptly intervened and administered a one point penalty to the challenger for low blows. The brief respite clearly aided the champion. Alexis tried to pick up where he had left off when action resumed, but suddenly he was tiring and by the end of round nine it was Pryor who had regained control, his punches hurting the fading challenger.
Round ten marked the end of the dream for Alexis Arguello and his fans. All his hopes of becoming a crossover sports star by winning an unprecedented fourth world title, and of reversing the most bitter and painful defeat of his long career, all of it was blown away for good by the irresistible whirlwind that was Aaron Pryor as the tireless champion launched a final ferocious attack. Sensing Alexis had little left, Pryor came forward fearlessly, disdaining defense and simply battering his man with one vicious power punch after another.
And it was then that a look of resignation settled on the handsome visage of Alexis Arguello. As he staggered about the ring, taking clean shot after clean shot, the undeniable truth, agonizing and irrevocable, finally became clear. And so after series of flush rights and lefts drove him once more to the canvas, there Alexis sat, calm and fully aware, his arms folded around his knees as he nodded and stoically allowed Steele to count him out. The painful revelation he had denied for ten long months was finally accepted as he sat and waited for the contest to officially end: Aaron Pryor was the better man and his victory in November had been hard-earned and well-deserved.
Alexis surrenders in round ten.
After, at the post-fight press conference, a tearful Alexis Arguello searched for a coherent explanation for his surrender. “I didn’t want to risk my life,” he said. “On the third knockdown, I was protecting myself. I thought about how good Pryor is and I said, ‘Jesus, I will stay here.'”
For Arguello and for his fans, this was of course not the ending they had anticipated. Yes, there had been defeats, but Alexis Arguello was a winner and a great champion, and all he needed to become immortal was just one more victory. Was it asking so much? Was it really a fight too far? In a word, yes. Because the man standing in his way was no ordinary pugilist, no ordinary warrior. Aaron Pryor proved his own greatness by blocking a legend’s path to boxing stardom. Thus the destinies of these two great champions can never be separated. Together, they are immortal.
You might wonder why I spent so much time on Alexis Arguello. Well, for one, he was all class and the ultimate sportsman. Second, he was one of the best to ever do it. You look at his career and he always won with class and lost with class, and in his prime he was nigh unbeatable, a well oiled fighting machine, the ultimate blend of pure boxer and lethal puncher. He was also very cerebral, giving away rounds and often taking punishment just so he could assess his opponent's weaknesses and vulnerabilities waiting for the perfect time to strike. He was a beautiful fighter to watch, I would compare it to watching an artist paint a masterpiece stroke by stroke.
Jose Napoles, aka "Mantequilla", all-time great welterweight. His nickname is Spanish for "butter" and he was called that because he was as smooth as butter in the ring, a superb ring general and boxer with brutal knockout power in both hands. He is an absolute legend in this sport, and this is a great story and real up close look at him, love this kind of stuff, it's just fascinating.
Throughout boxing history the welterweight division has been blessed with exceptional prizefighters. Names such as Walker, Ross, McLarnin, Armstrong, Robinson, Griffith and Leonard are just a few of the greats that come to mind. However, another name cannot be overlooked when considering great 147 pounders, Jose Napoles.
Napoles' nickname "Mantequilla" is the Spanish word for butter and anybody who had the pleasure of watching this brilliant boxer perform understands that Napoles’ style was as smooth as butter. It was a style that combined great boxing skill, devastating punching power and cool control of the ring. It was a style that created trouble for any opponent he faced. I'd have to say the best way to describe Napoles’ style is "timeless". It was a style that could unravel the old timers and the new breed as well.
I had the opportunity to watch this great welterweight's career evolve into a world championship during the years I was boxing. Napoles started out as a lightweight, but had to take on the best junior welterweights and welterweights in the world in order to get fights. Napoles beat them all in convincing fashion until finally, with the help of a great promoter, a champion finally gave him a title shot.
I'll give a brief run down of Napoles early career, however, my story begins in 1968, about a year before he won the title. Although I never boxed with Napoles, I know three men who challenged Mantequilla for the title. Ironically, all three of these welterweight contenders challenged Napoles for the crown twice. Much of my opinion of Napoles is based on the words of these three men who know him far better than those of us who saw him from ringside or watched him train in the gym. You get to know exactly how great a fighter is, or is not, after banging it out with him for fifteen rounds.
The three contenders whom I am referring to are Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez, Hedgeman Lewis and Armando Muniz. All three were talented and tough welterweights during the 60's and 70's, and all three agree that they never fought anybody better than Jose Napoles.
Jose Napoles was born in Cuba on April 13, 1940. He made his pro boxing debut in 1958, at the age of 18, and fought the first four years of his professional career in Cuba. Between 1958 and 1961, Napoles put together a record of 17-1 (8 KO's) before fleeing the regime of Fidel Castro and making his home in Mexico. Without the perils of living in a communist country, Napoles would now have a chance to make a name for himself in the world of boxing.
Mexico was almost perfect for Napoles, a Spanish speaking culture and rich in boxing talent. Many of the world's best boxers under 147 pounds hailed from Mexico and the Cuban lightweight would have the opposition necessary to take him to the next level. Of course, it wouldn't be easy. Napoles wasn't a Mexican.
After sixteen months of inactivity, Napoles resumed his boxing career in Mexico in July of 1962. Napoles quickly scored three straight knockouts before winning a ten round decision over Tony Perez. In a rematch, Perez was awarded a controversial decision over Napoles. Napoles scored two more victories including a decision over the highly regarded Baby Vasquez before losing again, this time in a ten rounder to Alfredo Urbina, one of the greatest lightweights Mexico ever produced.
After losing to Urbina, Napoles went on a rampage and won 18 straight with 17 knockouts, including KO's over Urbina and Perez in rematches. He also defeated Junior Welterweight champs Carlos Hernandez and Eddie Perkins, Adolph Pruitt and scored two knockouts over L.C. Morgan. After losing on a cut to Morgan in their third fight, Napoles KO'd Morgan for the third time. From there, Napoles put together a string of victories that would lead right up to a shot at the welterweight championship.
In 1968, the legendary George Parnassus became the boxing promoter for the newly built "Forum" in Inglewood, California. Parnassus had promoted boxing for years in the Los Angeles area, as well as in Mexico. Parnassus had a connection that would allow him to bring the very best talent up from below the border to Los Angeles. He would feature the very best Mexican stars at the Forum and it was here that many would become world champions. Champions such as Ruben Olivares, Chucho Castillo and Carlos Zarate won world titles in Parnassus promotions at the Forum, and so did Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles.
Napoles made his U.S. debut at the Forum in Parnassus' initial promotion that featured bantamweight contenders Jesus Pimentel and Chucho Castillo. I was anxious to see Napoles and was at the Forum that night. However, Mantequilla didn't give us a long look. He KO'ed Lloyd Marshall half way thru the opening round.
A few months later I got a little longer look at the future welterweight king when I saw him flatten Ireland's Des Rea in five rounds on the undercard of a featherweight main event featuring Dwight Hawkins and Frankie Crawford at the Forum.
Hawkins was the number one rated featherweight at the time and helped train me for manager Johnny Flores. I had heard Flores and Hawkins talk about how great a fighter this Napoles was and after seeing him in person at the Forum and in the gym I had to agree. Anybody amazed by the talent of Roy Jones Jr. would be a lot less impressed had they seen Jose Napoles up close.
In April of 1969, Jose Napoles would finally get a shot at World Welterweight Champion Curtis Cokes. Napoles was 29-years-old and had been fighting professionally and defeating the best for 11 years when he stepped into the ring at the Forum before a sellout crowd of more than 18,000. Many of the spectators had come up from Mexico in buses that Parnassus had chartered and the sound of mariachis filled the arena. Mexico had adopted the transplanted Cuban as one of their own and when Napoles climbed thru the ropes the Forum exploded with excitement.
Napoles had his way with Cokes and battered the champion at well. After 13 rounds referee Dick young stopped the fight to save Cokes from further punishment. Jose Napoles had escaped communism, defeated the best in three divisions and now, after 11 difficult years was the Welterweight Champion of the world.
Less than three months after winning the title, Napoles gave Cokes a rematch and again stopped the former champion in the 13th round. Like most champions of the era, Napoles didn't sit on the title between title defenses and stayed sharp with several non-title fights, which he won by knockout. Mantequilla finished out 1969 with a unanimous fifteen round decision over former welterweight and middleweight champ Emile Griffith in his second defense of the title.
In 1970, Napoles KO'd number one rated Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez in fifteen rounds and scored two more knockouts in non-title matches. Napoles closed out 1970 with his fourth title defense in Syracuse, New York against Billy Backus, the nephew of former champ Carmen Basilio.
Backus was given little chance of beating Napoles. However, after opening a cut over the champion's eye with a head butt in the 4th round, the bout was stopped and awarded to Backus.
Six months later, on June 6, 1971, Napoles would regain his title by destroying Backus in six rounds at the Forum. I was 19-years-old at the time and had been fighting professionally for exactly one year. I was scheduled to fight on the undercard of the Napoles-Backus rematch and remember all the excitement in the dressing room after Napoles had regained the title. I had won my fight that night but the biggest thrill for me was not my win, but having Carmen Basilio compliment me after my fight. Basilio had worked his nephew's corner that night and was kind enough to recognize that I had done well in my fight.
My most vivid memory of Napoles took place six months later, as he trained for his next title defense against Hedgeman Lewis. This would be one of two championship fights at the Forum along with a World Bantamweight title fight between champion Ruben Olivares and Jesus Pimentel.
I was one of Ruben Olivares' sparring partners for the Pimentel fight and each day we would workout immediately following Napoles before a paying audience. Promoter George Parnassus had his office at the old Elks Building, located right off Wilshire Blvd. near Alvarado St. in downtown Los Angeles. Today the Elks Building is the Park Plaza Hotel and sits right across from Macarthur Park.
Parnassus had a gym set up in the ball room of the Elks Bldg. with a ring at one end of the room against the stage and a couple of heavy bags, a speed bag and double-end bag on the stage. People would pay $1 admission to watch the boxers train and we'd usually have several hundred spectators for each workout. I recall that former lightweight champion Lauro Salas, one of Parnassus' friends who'd fallen on hard times, would collect admission at the door and Parnassus would let Salas keep the money so as the former champ could pay his rent and feed himself. Parnassus was a legendary promoter and had a legendary soft spot in his heart for ex-boxers.
Boxers are some of the friendliest people you could meet but people don't realize that most boxers, regardless of how nice, have a mean streak. This was especially true of Jose Napoles.
One of Napoles chief sparring partners was an L.A. club fighter named Baby Cassius. Baby Cassius (Eric Thomas) knew this all too well after sparring with the champ. I remember talking with Baby Cassius in the dressing room following one of his sparring sessions with Napoles. Both of Eric's eyes were swollen and his nose was bloody. Cassius would moan, "All I wanna do is earn a little Christmas money, but this guy is killing me". He also told me that he knew Napoles was drinking because he could smell alcohol on the champion as they were sparring. I didn't feel sorry for Baby Cassius because he didn't receive any worse an ass whipping from Napoles than what I (or any sparring partner) receive when trying to punch it out with a great world champ. That's the business. However, one incident involving Napoles between rounds of a sparring session will always stick out in my mind.
Napoles had an assistant trainer in L.A. named Phil Silvers. I never cared much for Silvers personally and it was obvious that Napoles didn't either. Silvers job was to tie the champions gloves and give him water between rounds of sparring sessions. One day, after pouring some water into Napoles mouth between rounds of a sparring session, the champ spit the water back into Silver's face. He then smirked and turned around. Not even the wildest fans watching the workout made a noise. I remember how surprised I was to see this, and obviously, so was everybody else. "What a jerk", I thought.
A couple of days later I had a strange experience with Napoles myself. One day after he finished sparring, I was warming up for my sparring session with Olivares. I was punching one of the two heavy bags on the stage and had my eye on Napoles as his trainer helped him slip on his bag gloves. I wanted to see if Napoles was ready to hit the bag that I was warming up on and if he was I'd move to the other bag. Napoles was the champ and he could hit whatever bag he wanted to hit. It was his show, not mine. When I saw Napoles moving my way I assumed he wanted the bag I was punching and I respectfully moved to the other bag. Napoles started banging away at the bag and I began doing the same on the other bag.
As the next round started I saw Napoles approaching me out of the corner of my eye and he tapped me on the shoulder. When I looked at him he motioned for me to move away from the bag and pointed at the other bag. "No problem", I thought to myself, and moved to the other bag. As I'm punching the other bag I see Napoles heading toward me again and noticed a few of his friends smiling. It occurred to me that Napoles was either trying to play a joke on me, or intimidate me, or whatever. Napoles again tapped me on the shoulder and waved me off the bag. When Napoles began to hit the bag, I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the other bag, then stepped in front of him and began hitting the bag again. Napoles grabs my arm and I turn to face him.
In my mind, I had set myself up for an ass whipping by the welterweight champion of the world. However, a fighter does not let himself get pushed around by another fighter and I looked him directly in the eyes. We stood face-to-face for a few seconds that seemed like hours to me. Napoles had a very serious look on his face and I didn't know what was coming next. My trainer, Mel Epstein, saw what was going on and quickly stepped in. "C'mon Ricky, let's get ready for Olivares", he said, trying to pull me out of the situation. All of a sudden Napoles begins to smile and turns toward Epstein, motioning that it was Ok for me to continue working on the bag.
I will never know what Napoles was doing but I assume he was having fun trying to see how much I would take. One thing I did notice was that Napoles reeked of alcohol. I was surprised, despite having this told me earlier by Baby Cassius.
A couple of weeks later, Olivares stopped Jesus Pimentel in twelve rounds and Napoles won a very close fifteen round decision over the flashy Hedgeman Lewis. Lewis was a very flashy welterweight along the lines of a Sugar Ray Leonard, but not the class of Napoles. I realized that Napoles partying had affected his performance. three years later, Napoles and Lewis fight again and this time Mantequilla would ruin Hedge. Lewis was never the same after the beating he took from Napoles in this title fight.
The same was true with Ernie 'Indian Red" Lopez. Three years after losing to Napoles in his first bid for the welterweight crown, Lopez was given a second chance in 1973. After the beating Lopez took from Napoles in this fight he was never any good again. I remember talking with Lopez at the Main Street Gym in Los Angeles just a few days after his second fight with Napoles. I told Ernie I thought he gave Napoles a good fight and was shocked by Ernie's response. "I'll never fight that guy again . . . for any amount of money!" These aren't the kind of words that came out of the mouth of Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez.
At 34, Jose Napoles, a blown-up lightweight who had become one of the greatest welterweight champs in history, challenged another great fighter, Carlos Monzon for the undisputed Middleweight title. Napoles was stopped in seven rounds.
Napoles defended the welterweight title fifteen times and when he was the undisputed champ, something that no longer exists. His last two title defenses were against a friend of mine, Armando Muniz.
Like Lewis, Muniz caught Napoles out of shape in their first match and almost won the title. However, in the rematch held three months later in Mexico City, Napoles had his way with Muniz and scored a unanimous fifteen round decision win.
On December 6, 1975, after holding the welterweight title nearly eight years, Jose Napoles would make his last defense of the title at age 35. Englishman John Stracey would stop Napoles in his hometown of Mexico City.
After the fight, Napoles would announce his retirement from boxing after spending more than half his life in the professional boxing ring.
When thinking about the great welterweights in boxing, don't forget the guy they called 'Mantequilla". He was a true all-time great.
That is a fascinating up close and personal look at Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles, I had no idea that he reeked of booze when he sparred and had a mean streak in him. He was all business when it came time to fight though, he was very artful with his violence, he could cut you to ribbons and do it very gracefully and scientific.
Jose Napoles is a prime example of why this sport is called the sweet science. Had one heck of a run as welterweight king.
Jose Napoles was born in Santiago de Cuba, Oriente, Cuba and fled Fidel Castro's Communist regime in 1962 and settled in Mexico City. In two reigns as welterweight champion, which encompass nearly seven years, Napoles made 13 successful title defenses.
It's all but forgotten that Napoles was also one of the top lightweights and junior welterweights of the 1960s. But despite an 8-1 record against rated fighters, and he avenged his lone defeat via TKO 1, he was unable to secure a title shot. Among the contenders he beat were: Alfredo Urbina (L 10, TKO 1, KO 3), Carlos Hernandez (TKO 7), Eddie Perkins (W 10) and Johnny Santos (KO 3).
In 1967, he moved up to welterweight and earned a title fight against champion Curtis Cokes. Although his nickname was "Mantequilla" (Butter), referring to his smooth boxing style, his victims would probably suggest something more brutal. At the Inglewood Forum on April 18, 1969, Napoles gave Cokes a thorough beating. He cut the American inside his mouth, blooding his nose and swelling both eyes before the referee stopped the contest in the 13th round. His dominance of Cokes was justification of the decision by the managers of the champions at 135- and 140 pounds who chose to avoid the Napoles.
Napoles easily handled Cokes in the rematch (TKO 10) and then beat future Hall of Famer Emile Griffin (W15) and Ernie (Indian Red) Lopez (TKO 15). He appeared unstoppable. But in his fourth defense, against Billy Backus in December of 1970, Napoles sustained a bad cut over his eye and the bout was stopped in the fourth round and Backus was declared champion. When they met in a rematch seven months later, Napoles regained the title with a fourth-round stoppage of his own.
Napoles immediately put together an impressive streak of title defenses. He scored wins over Hedgemon Lewis, Adolph Pruitt, Ernie Lopez and Clyde Gray. In 1974, he moved up in weight to challenge middleweight champion Carlos Monzon but was stopped in the seventh round.
Napoles returned to the welterweight division and retained his title against Lewis, Horacio Saldano and Armando Muniz (twice) before losing it to John H. Stracey in 1975. He retired after that fight. The only blip during his reign – which included 13 successful defenses – was a loss to Billy Backus on cuts that he avenged two fights later. Napoles greatest failure was his ill-fated attempt to wrest the middleweight title from all-time great Carlos Monzon in 1974 but he should be applauded for thinking big. When he was finished, he had gone 15-2 in world title fights and was 4-1 against fellow Hall of Famers. Greatness.
Quote: “What a magnificent fighter he was and what a great champion. Look how long he reigned as a champion. This is such a sad day,” Stracey said upon Napoles’ death in August of 2019.
One of the things I can never forget about the great Jose Napoles is that photo of him holding Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez after he knocked him out, Napoles had great compassion for his opponents. The photo is from Jose Napoles' fight with Ernie Lopez in 1973. The punch that knocked out Lopez down was a effortless looking right uppercut in round 7, the punch not only knocked him out, but fractured his eye socket.
A few other things about Jose Naples, I love that article by the fellow that shared a gym with Napoles, Napoles was never shy about reminding everyone who was boss, and had a bit of a nasty streak in him when he felt like it, a lot of fighters do, it's the nature of this sport. Napoles did battle a booze addiction but overcame it later in life. Jose Naples is a fascinating fighter to watch, a slick ring tactician but also a lethal puncher. Here's a great write up from a guy who's grandfather actually fought Napoles in the amateurs.
Although it has lacked the same quantity of big names produced by the likes of Mexico and Puerto Rico (for obvious reasons, which we’ll soon get to), Cuba has still produced its fair share of all-time great fighters. But while the likes of Kid Gavilan, Nino Valdes and, most prominently, Kid Chocolate are all revered, one great champion they produced has often fallen under the radar – Jose Napoles.
Let’s get the obvious out of the way – Napoles is considered Mexican as much as he is Cuban, as after Castro banned professional boxing in Cuba in 1961, Napoles travelled to Mexico to rebuild his career, ended up fighting under the flag of both nations and became something of a sporting icon in his new, adopted homeland in the sixties and seventies. So his lack of recognition in Cuba is understandable, I suppose. But while he was revered in Mexico during his career, over the decades since his popularity has waned, and he is rarely as fondly remembered now as are the likes of Ruben Olivares and Carlos Zarate, with whom his career just about overlapped.
It’s a shame, as Napoles’ record stands comparison with just about any boxer produced by either country. I have to confess that my opinion towards Napoles has also been favourable from an early age, as my step Granddad (an ABA Welterweight champion and 1964 Olympian) often spoke about how good Napoles was; when I asked my step Granddad who the best fighter he ever fought in the amateurs was, he answered without any hesitation “Mantequilla."
The nickname of ‘Mantequilla’ (meaning butter, as he was said to be as smooth as butter) fitted Napoles perfectly. He was, as Gilbert Odd wrote after observing him from ringside, a “thoughtful tactician, but also a venomous puncher.” But strangely enough, it could be that his measured approach to boxing is one of the reasons that his career is not as celebrated as the likes of the aforementioned Olivares and Zarate, or Julio Cesar Chavez, for that matter. Working behind a jab, circling the ring and picking out openings before utilising his short hooks and whipping uppercut, Napoles was not your ‘typical’ Mexican fighter. Some say that while his record is comparable, Juan Manuel Marquez will never be held in the same esteem as his more exciting compatriots such as Marco Antonio Barrera or Erik Morales, and I feel a similar case can be made for Napoles.
Most do realise that Napoles was a great Welterweight, one of the very best. However, what is sometimes forgotten is that he was, arguably, an even better Lightweight and / or Light-Welterweight. His closest followers maintain that Naples was at his best between 135 lb and 140 lb in the early to mid sixties, and the fact that he was beating quality opposition such as LC Morgan, Carlos Hernandez and Eddie Perkins in this period would seem to lend credence to that. Carlos Ortiz (who I also think was a true all-time great) refused to face him during his tenure as Lightweight champion, and 140 lb champions such as the aforementioned Hernandez and Eddie Perkins, both of whom Napoles beat in non-title matches, were also wise enough to not risk taking a title bout against Napoles.
Essentially then, Napoles was a natural Lightweight or Light-Welterweight who had simply been forced up to 147 lb by the time he won the Welterweight title from Curtis Cokes in 1969. In addition to this, he was already pushing thirty. However, this didn’t stop him from defending the title a total of thirteen times across two reigns, which were only separated after Billy Backus stopped him on cuts in 1970 – a loss which Napoles had avenged within six months. Other victims of Napoles during his title reign included the wonderful Emile Griffith and also Hedgemon Lewis, who at one time held the NYSAC version of the crown before Napoles unified), and there was not a single worthwhile contender that Napoles failed to accommodate. I do believe that in Britain, Napoles has struggled to garner the recognition due to him thanks to our own John H Stracey dethroning him in his final fight. A great performance by Stracey, but at the same time an unfair measuring stick for how good ‘Mantequilla’ (who by then was thirty-five) really was.
Likewise, the rout he suffered at the hands of Monzon in his bid for the Middleweight title in 1974 is often used as a way of dismissing Napoles as a ‘good, but not great’ fighter, but again this is unfair. Those who are guilty of this are usually not aware of how far down the weight scale Napoles began his career, and that, as previously explained, he was only operating anywhere above 140 lb due to being frozen out by the champions at lower weights.
To summarise, a wonderful fighter who ducked nobody, would absolutely dominate the 140 lb or 147 lb scene today and who deserves to revered as one of the very best Hispanic fighters of them all.
Jose Napoles really symbolizes what the sweet science is all about, he could do it all, he could box your ears off and look damn good doing it, or he could simply take you out with one shot, and Napoles was basically unbeatable in his prime. John Stracey was traveling into the lions den to fight the great Napoles on his turf, it would be the end of the line for one of the best ever.
John Stracey vs Jose Napoles in Mexico City
John H. Stracey Shocks Jose Napoles By James Slater - 12/05/2020
Exactly 45 years ago today, a British fighter scored one of the finest away wins in the history of the sport. London’s John H. Stracey travelled to Mexico City to challenge defending WBC welterweight ruler Jose Napoles. Overcoming tremendous odds, Stracey, aged 25 and sporting a 42-3-1 record, managed to stop the classy Cuban who had relocated to Mexico a number of years before and was a genuine hero to millions there. The fight took place in the afternoon, inside a bullring, with a hugely hostile crowd of over 40,000 literally baying for Stracey’s blood. Napoles, known as “Mantequilla,” because he was “smooth as butter,” was getting on in years at age 35 (some say he was a couple of years older) but he had won 16 of his last seventeen fights (the loss coming against world middleweight king Carlos Monzon in February of 1974) and against Stracey, he was making the eleventh defence of his second reign as welterweight champion. Napoles’ record was an amazing 81-6 and he had beaten great fighters such as Emile Griffith, Curtis Cokes and Hedgemon Lewis during his 17-year pro career. The fight was almost an instant disaster for the Terry Lawless-guided challenger, as a Napoles left hook sent Stracey down in the very first round. Hurt and under fire for the remainder of the round, the visiting fighter had to dig deep to survive the opening three minutes. But Stracey was a massively determined fighter and he saw out the session, and came back to score a knockdown of his own in the 3rd-round when a left hand forced Napoles to briefly touch down. The massive pro-Napoles crowd couldn’t believe it, and they showered the ring with debris; mostly consisting of seat cushions. Napoles was soon badly marked up, swollen and tired, a testament to the punching power and strength of Stracey. And then, in the sixth round, Napoles’ team – which consisted of the legendary Angelo Dundee – saw the referee dive in and call a halt to the now one-sided fight. Napoles took quite a hammering on the ropes in the 6th-round and a relentless Stracey simply would not be denied. Napoles would never fight again. Stracey would return to England a hero and go on to retain his crown the following March. Back in the summer of 2013, Stracey took time out to recall his great win over Napoles, and the subsequent fights of his career, with this writer: “The win over Jose Napoles was the best night of my career; that win over Napoles in 1975, which was actually in the late afternoon (laughs), is an obvious choice,” Stracey said. “That fight is still very vivid in the mind, especially the 1st-round knockdown. I can still think back and take it all in. Not too many people gave me a chance to win, and to beat Napoles, especially in his own city of Mexico, was special. I was lucky to have fought one of the all-time greats; who had been there, done everything and had the T-shirt. Napoles was a great boxer, one of the very best in history without a shadow of a doubt.” Despite losing his title after just one successful defence, Stracey’s name is secure in the history books as a British fighter who scored one of the biggest upsets in the welterweight history.
I want to talk about Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez for a second, Here's the write up on the second Jose Napoles vs Ernie Lopez fight, the fight that produced one of the most famous photos in boxing history, the photo of Jose Napoles cradling Ernie Lopez after knocking him out. Ernie Lopez was the brother of the featherweight champion and murderous puncher Danny "Little Red" Lopez. The Napoles knockout left Ernie Lopez devastated, he was never the same again after it. In 2004 after being induced into the California boxing hall of fame, no one could find Ernie Lopez and a private investigator wound up finally locating him in a Texas homeless shelter, he had disappeared in 1993 and no one in his family had seen him for 11 years. So the investigator brought Ernie back to California for his induction into the hall of fame. It is a sad ending because Ernie was one heck of a fighter and warrior. The two losses to Jose Napoles had really devastated Ernie, he identified himself so much as a fighter and it just ruined him. I don't think people realize what it means to climb those steps as a boxer, this sport is brutal and it takes so much to make it.
Feb. 28, 1973: Napoles vs Lopez II
They call boxing the cruelest sport for a number of reasons, one of them being that no matter how talented or dedicated a boxer is, his success ultimately depends on whether he has the good luck to avoid his superior. There are as many examples of this as there are capable fighters who compete at the elite level of their difficult profession; in other words, countless.
To cite just a few: Lew Tendler was a vastly talented southpaw who more than held his own in perhaps the best lightweight division in history, but the man between him and a world title was the even more talented Benny Leonard. “Bad” Bennie Briscoe is considered one of the best ever at 160 pounds, but it was his misfortune to strive for the top of the middleweight mountain at the same time as Rodrigo Valdes, Emile Griffith, Carlos Monzon and Marvelous Marvin Hagler. Ken Norton might have reached the heavyweight pinnacle, but Muhammad Ali, George Foreman and Larry Holmes all got in the way.
Similarly, Ernie “Indian Red” Lopez had the stuff to be a world champ, but there was just one major problem; its name was José Napoles.
José Ángel Nápoles
Any serious discussion of the truly great welterweight champions must include the legendary “Mantequilla,” as gifted a pugilist as boxing has ever seen. His nickname means “butter” in Spanish and this referred to the smoothness of his moves and his relaxed demeanour in the ring, but the moniker belies the fact Napoles possessed crushing power and ruthless finishing instincts.
Napoles learned his trade and began his career in Cuba, but he was forced to flee his native country when the Castro regime banned professional boxing. He settled in Mexico where the locals adopted him as one of their own. Through the 1960’s he campaigned as a lightweight and junior-welter, but his skills and power were such he had to move up to welterweight to get fights. He finally received a title shot in 1969 and would go on to win fourteen championship bouts before losses to Carlos Monzon and John Stracey prompted him to retire.
Ernie Lopez, along with fellow gifted contenders Hedgemon Lewis and Armando Muñíz, all tried and failed to dethrone Napoles. The three also shared the experience of giving Napoles tough battles the first time around, before being dominated in the subsequent rematch. (However, it must be noted that the first meeting between Muniz and Napoles was not merely a highly competitive fight. In that instance, Napoles was shamelessly defended by the referee who, instead of granting Muniz the TKO victory he deserved, blamed Napoles’ cuts on headbutts and awarded the fight to the champion.)
Napoles vs Lopez
Lopez and Napoles first met in February of 1970. “Mantequilla” clearly won, scoring three knockdowns and forcing a stoppage in the final round, but Lopez gave a decent account of himself against a dominant champion. In the months that followed he stayed active and maintained his position as one of the top contenders, a rematch scheduled two years later. However, few gave Lopez a serious chance of reversing the outcome of their first bout. While he had hung tough with Napoles for almost fifteen full rounds, the deciding difference between the two men was obvious: raw power.
Ernie Lopez catches Jose Napoles with a right hook
Napoles vs Lopez II was highly competitive over the first four rounds. Lopez boxed carefully, keeping his hands up and using his jab to good effect, opening up cuts in the second and third. Keeping the fight in the center of the ring, the challenger worked to maintain distance while landing solid right hands to Napoles’ body. In the fifth the action intensified with the Cuban exile getting in some solid counter left hooks. Lopez struck with a big right hand to the chin, but the punch only prompted Napoles to pick up the pace. He hurt Lopez with a pair of thunderous hooks and the battlers traded toe-to-toe until the end of the round.
In round six Lopez tried to reassert himself, but the patient Napoles slipped most of Ernie’s punches and started finding openings for his counter left again. Lopez fought gamely but simply lacked the power to gain the champion’s respect and a sharp hook put him on the defensive at the end of the round.
Napoles moved in for the kill in the seventh. Pressuring his opponent, he forced Lopez to trade, thus creating the opening he wanted for the left. The challenger tried to get home the big shot that would stop Napoles in his tracks, but instead a pair of crunching hooks hurt him badly. Backing his wounded quarry up, Napoles feinted another hook and then, in as vicious a knockout as you’ll ever see, countered Lopez’s right with a perfectly timed uppercut that put Lopez flat on his back. The challenger writhed in agony on the canvas as he was counted out and then stayed down for several minutes. At one point a concerned Napoles knelt near his fallen foe and cradled him saying, “Please wake up, please wake up.”
“I never saw power like that,” said the challenger’s veteran manager, Howie Steindler.
Lopez would not recover from the defeat. Following the bout he declared: “I’ll never fight that guy again . . . for any amount of money!” He lost to Muniz and Stracey before retiring, and not long after his marriage fell apart. Heartbroken, he abandoned his family and disappeared, living the life of a wanderer for over a decade before a private investigator found him in a homeless shelter in Texas. He died in 2009 from complications of dementia. He was 64.
A concerned Napoles cradles Lopez after the knockout.
“It was the losses to Napoles and the divorce that sent Ernie into a tailspin,” stated his brother, Danny Lopez, the former featherweight champion. “He was a hurt man.”
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Alexis Arguello vs Bobby Chacon
Bobby Chacon was nicknamed "the schoolboy", Chacon was a part of some of the greatest ring wars in the history of the sport, Chacon was a boxing fans dream come true, an action packed fighter that gave you every bit of himself every time he stepped in the ring. The way he fought, he just didn't care about getting hit, at times he seemed to enjoy it, a real gladiator that ate, slept, and breathed boxing. I'll profile Bobby Chacon later in the thread.
Alexis Arguello corners Bobby Chacon
Nov. 16, 1979: Arguello vs Chacon
Bobby Chacon had been an overnight sensation in California, a popular young fighter attracting big crowds to the Inglewood Forum and the Olympic Auditorium. But as quickly as he raised hopes and attracted fans, he let them down, losing his first world title just three months after winning it when he was stopped by Mexican legend Ruben Olivares in June of ’75.
Bobbychacon-777
The ever popular Bobby Chacon
It had been a rocky ride ever since, as the fighter they called “The Schoolboy” struggled to get another chance at a world title. Despite a big non-title win over Olivares in August of ’77, losses to Rafael “Bazooka” Limon and Arturo Leon held him back. But he had earned this shot at Arguello’s WBC super featherweight championship by rebounding with five wins, and a big crowd set the turnstiles spinning at the Forum, everyone hoping to see Chacon get to the top of the mountain again.
But if Bobby was the more popular fighter, there was no question as to who was the underdog in this match, as Alexis Arguello was both a distinguished titlist and a very dangerous puncher. Yes, he had suffered a non-title loss to crafty Vilomar Fernandez in July of 78, but that was the only setback of late, as Arguello had established himself as one of the game’s best champions with convincing victories over the same fighters who had given Chacon so much trouble: Olivares, Leon and Limon. Add in two big wins over former champ Alredo Escalera and you had an elite-level pugilist with almost impeccable credentials. Few thought Chacon had the required power and fortitude to take the title from “The Explosive Thin Man.”
Arguello
Arguello defeating Escalera in ’78.
But for six rounds Chacon made fools of the odds-makers. Showing the courage and skills which had earned him such an enthusiastic following on the west coast, the challenger, despite being five inches shorter, boxed with authority, making the champion miss time and again, “The Schoolboy” countering with sharp right hands. Bobby sustained a cut over his right eye in the second round, but it didn’t appear to bother the challenger as he jousted with smooth efficiency, winning rounds with a sharp jab, the counter right, and solid body punches. The champion stalked Chacon and on occasion landed some heavy body shots of his own, but Arguello was consistently beaten to the punch.
Chacon’s performance reminded ringsiders of his dominant knockout win in 1974 over current featherweight champion Danny Lopez as “The Schoolboy” stuck to his game-plan and smartly refused to go toe-with-toe with the powerful Arguello, instead slipping the champion’s shots to land his own. The champion knew he was behind and his frustration became evident in round six when, uncharacteristically, he deliberately struck the challenger after the bell. The obvious foul brought a rain of boos from the pro-Chacon crowd.
Peak Schoolboy: Chacon defeats future champ Danny Lopez in ’74.
But everything changed in round seven, as it can when one faces a fighter with legit one-shot knockout power. A perfectly timed right uppercut sent Chacon staggering across the ring. He dropped to a crouch and took an eight count and when action resumed Arguello pinned Bobby to the ropes and unleashed a furious barrage. Some punches landed, some missed, but the fusillade turned the cut from round two into a deep gash. Chacon was fighting back gallantly by the end of the round, but his face was covered in blood. Between rounds the ringside doctor ordered the fight stopped and it went into the books as a seventh round TKO.
Classy as always, Arguello gave credit where it was due: “Bobby Chacon is a good fighter, very intelligent. I told everyone it was going to be a tough fight and it was.”
“I have nothing to be ashamed of,” said the disappointed challenger. “It was the cut that did me in.”
Talk of a rematch was drowned out by the louder talk of Arguello stepping up to the lightweight division and going after a third divisional world title, something which, at that time, represented a remarkable feat. With Roberto Duran having recently departed the 135 pound division to pursue new glories in the welterweight class, most viewed Alexis as the heir apparent at lightweight. It had been decades since a fighter had won titles in three separate weight classes, and at this point only five boxers in the entire history of the sport had done it: Bob Fitzsimmons, Tony Canzoneri, Barney Ross, Henry Armstrong and Emile Griffith.
“Yes, I would like to fight as a lightweight,” stated Arguello, “but only if I can challenge for the title immediately. If a champion is willing to fight me, then I am ready.”
Meanwhile, many were wondering if the sun had set on Chacon. He was only twenty-seven, but that nasty cut was further evidence of a streak of bad luck that had dogged “The Schoolboy” ever since he lost his title to Olivares in ’74. Little did anyone know, but the most glorious wins for both fighters still lay ahead.
Alexis Arguello vs Ray Mancini
I wish all fights were like this one, a really competitive encounter with classy sportsmanship.
Alexis Arguello catches Ray Mancini with a right
Alexis Arguello makes the first defense of his WBC Lightweight Championship against undefeated warrior Ray Mancini. Mancini gets the jump on Arguello, winning the first half of the fight on work rate. The champion Arguello is patient, studying Mancini, analyzing him, gathering intelligence on him and then begins catching Mancini with flush shots in the seventh round. At the end of the twelfth, Mancini walks into a huge right hand that puts his knee on the canvas. Although he bounces back up and continues through a hard thirteenth round, Mancini gets dropped into the ropes by a pair of left hooks and a right hand in the fourteenth. The valiant Mancini again gets back to his feet, but Referee Tony Perez has already decided to stop the fight.
A great fight, fiercely competitive, with most of the early rounds belonging to Mancini, with Arguello doing most of his best work in the mid to late rounds.
Arguello is just absolutely beautiful to watch when he puts his punches together. He picks his spot with that right hand, but once he throws it, it's with bad intentions and straight as an arrow. In fact, nearly every shot he throws, even in the late rounds, is with pin point accuracy and straight. He really showed himself to be a 15 round fighter in this fight, whereas the less experienced Mancini, couldn't quite keep up with Arguello late on.
Mancini showed true grit and a hell of a chin to take all of those hard shots for as long as he did. He only had like 20 fights at the time, so to go toe to toe with Arguello and look good doing it is quite an achievement for somebody with only 20 fights. Hell of an effort. Most lightweights in history would have been destroyed by that final combination Alexis put together to end matters.
All Boxing detractors need to sit through this affair. The sportsmanship was unbelievable, I don't think Gil Glancy could believe it either, when Mancini actually stopped to make sure Alexis was okay. This was from a supposed thumbing, Alexis winced, and Mancini stopped and apologized.
The post fight interview was equally as touching, with Arguello wishing Mancini the best in his career, and talking very complimentary about his father.
All Boxing detractors, watch Mancini vs Arguello, it encompasses everything we love about the sport.
Alexis Arguello was 72-4 at the time of the Ray Mancini fight, he was on a 16 fight win streak, just one heck of a well oiled fighting machine was Alexis Arguello.
Sports Illustrated Vault | SI.com
LOWERING THE BOOM BOOM
LOWERING THE BOOM BOOM
LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMP ALEXIS ARGUELLO WAS TOO CLASSY, TOO CUNNING AND TOO MUCH FOR 20-YEAR-OLD RAY MANCINI, WHO MAY HAVE LEARNED A VALUABLE BOXING LESSON
It was a remarkable scene after what had been a remarkable fight. Alexis Arguello had retained his WBC lightweight championship by knocking out 20-year-old Ray (Boom Boom) Mancini at 1:46 of the 14th round. It was Mancini's first loss in 21 professional bouts. Mancini's lip was cut and his face was puffy, but considering the number of left jabs he had absorbed, Mancini didn't look too bad at the postfight press conference. He started with a little joke: "It would have been a helluvan upset, huh?"
It would have. Arguello is one of six men to have held world championships in three weight classes. At 29, he's at his peak: He's 16-1 in title fights—with 16 wins in a row—and has a 72-4 record. Still, last Saturday afternoon in an overcrowded ballroom in Bally's Park Place Casino Hotel in Atlantic City, Mancini gave Arguello all he could handle.
"I'm just glad it's over," Mancini said. "It takes a lot out of you—these championship fights." It had been a tense, emotional few days, and it showed. "The disappointment's going to hurt longer than these wounds. I wanted to win it for my father...." Mancini's voice cracked, and his eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry I'm not acting like a professional," he said, trying to smile.
In a few minutes, Arguello arrived. He is a strikingly handsome man, a slim Omar Sharif, but now there was a cut on his left eyelid and a purple crescent beneath it. "It was the best fight so far this year, my friend," he said to Mancini. Then, to the press: "I think my heart is special. But his heart is bigger than I have."
Arguello is a gentleman as well as an estimable champion, and he knew Mancini's story well—how Mancini wanted to win the championship for his father, Lenny (Boom Boom) Mancini, who was drafted in 1942 before he could fight for the lightweight title and then sustained a shrapnel wound in WW II that ended any hope for a title. The elder Mancini attended Saturday's fight in a wheelchair because he was convalescing from a heart-bypass operation three weeks before. "After the fight I saw Mancini's father," Arguello said, "and I felt bad." Then, as if he needed to explain the thundering right hand that dropped Mancini and obliged Referee Tony Perez to stop the bout, Arguello added, "But it's my job." He sounded apologetic.
Shortly afterward, Mancini excused himself to be with his father, pausing to say, "This isn't the end of the story. This is the standard first chapter. I'll be back. I'm just sorry that...sorry for all the people...." His voice began to crack again.
Which was when the champion put an arm around Mancini and spoke to him as one would to a younger brother: "You don't have to be sorry. This is a better experience than any fight you've ever had. You'll be better for this." Mancini nodded, and with a roomful of eavesdroppers, Arguello told the kid about his first title fight, how he had lost by decision to Ernesto Marcel in February 1974 and had cried afterward, how he now drew on that experience and was a better boxer because of it. This took place about 15 minutes after Arguello had nearly taken Mancini's head off. When the champ was through, Mancini thanked him and everybody clapped. Quite a show.
Arguello was born in Nicaragua, but has lived in Coral Gables, Fla. the past three years because of political strife in his homeland. He held the WBA featherweight title from 1974 to 1976 and the WBC junior lightweight title from 1978 to 1980, and last June he won the WBC lightweight championship from Jim Watt of Scotland. He has designs on Aaron Pryor's WBA junior welterweight title, which would make him the first to win championships in four divisions. He has even talked about moving up two divisions to fight Sugar Ray Leonard for the welterweight crown. "I don't need $10 million or $20 million," he concedes. "Just one million." The $400,000 he made fighting Mancini was his largest purse. "Mancini's strengths are that he's in great shape, he throws a lot of punches, and he's very aggressive," said Eddie Futch, Arguello's trainer, before the fight. "He makes fighters hurry their punches. But it's hard to hurry Arguello. Mancini's never been hit by a fellow that hits as hard as this guy."
The key to the fight, according to both men, was whether Arguello's left jab could keep Mancini from moving inside, where he's most effective. Said Arguello: "I have the equipment to fight him any way he wants, but I know if I get close to him, I'm in trouble."
The other question was whether Mancini, who fights best at a whirlwind pace, would have the stamina to go 15 rounds. "Arguello has won most of his title fights in rounds 10 to 15," Mancini said before the bout. "I'm a 15-round fighter, he's a 10-round fighter," Arguello would explain after the fight. And to his great pain, Mancini was proof of that assertion.
More than 500 fans from Mancini's hometown of Youngstown, Ohio had come to see the fight, and when the judges were announced, the Ohioans booed. Mancini's manager, Dave Wolf, claimed on the morning of the bout that "the fight's fixed—one of the promoters came to me with tears in his eyes, saying, 'The fix is totally on. You've got to win by a knockout, and even then you might get disqualified.' " The WBC had appointed a Nicaraguan judge, an American judge and a Puerto Rican judge. Tony Perez, the referee, is also Puerto Rican. "Three Latins out of four officials—what more do I have to say?" Wolf said, suggesting he might not let Mancini fight. He apologized after the fight. The judging and refereeing were faultless.
Arguello is a notoriously slow starter, and Mancini, who gave away 7½ inches in reach, was able to move in close early in the fight. Working hooks and uppercuts to the taller—5'9" to 5'4½"—Arguello, Mancini led after five rounds on two of the three judges' cards. Arguello kept jabbing, with little effect. Then Futch suggested right uppercuts to the body, and Arguello was able to keep Mancini at bay, winning rounds 7 through 9. Both Futch and Arguello would say later that the body blows were the turning point, although Mancini claimed that none was damaging. "A fighter doesn't feel the pain," Futch says, "but he becomes slower and drops his gloves just enough to open up the head."
After Round 10 one judge had Mancini ahead, one had Arguello and the third had the bout even. Then, at the start of those critical rounds, 11 to 15, Arguello rose to the occasion. "I tried everything I knew to get inside," Mancini said. "He just wouldn't let me."
In Round 12 Arguello went over Mancini's lowered guard with several straight right-hand shots—the last of which Mancini seemed to walk into—and Boom Boom went down, a few seconds before the bell, for the first time in his pro career. Mancini was in trouble throughout the 13th, and his corner nearly threw in the towel. He survived, however, and Wolf asked him between rounds how he felt. "I want to finish," Mancini said. He rushed out gamely for Round 14 and tried again to get inside, but Arguello finally caught him with two left hooks and, as Perez rushed to stop it, that final, devastating right to end the fight.
Afterward, Mancini's mother, Ellen, recalled the scene in the locker room when Boom Boom laid his head on his father's shoulder and cried in disappointment. "He told him, 'Daddy, I didn't bring it to you like I wanted to,' " she said. "Lenny was very calm and comforting. He told him, 'That's O.K., you're still our champ.' " Then she remembered what Arguello had said about how the loss would make Mancini a better fighter. It was small comfort. "You know?" she said, "I wish Alexis would move up to that other division now."
She speaks for a lot of lightweights.
In the article above it says Arguello was a slow starter, that was because he usually spent the early rounds of a fight analyzing his opponent, studying him for weaknesses, he was very cerebral to his approach.
In 1983 Arguello fought Cornelius Boza-Edwards, Edwards was a very good fighter from Uganda who made a hell of a name for himself in the 80s, he was an all action fighter, entertaining as heck, he was hardly ever in a bad fight. In this fight, Arguello hit Edwards with some vicious body shots and gave Edwards a pretty good lesson in boxing. Arguello laid some brutal body shots on Edwards and Edwards later said he learned a lot in his fight with Arguello and that he learned to toughen up his body to be able to sustain more punishment to the body. The Arguello vs Edwards fight ended when Edwards didn't answer the bell for the ninth round, he had taken a pretty good trouncing from Arguello.
Alexis Arguello hits Cornelius Boza-Edwards with a body shot
In 1978 and 79, Alexis Arguello and Alfredo Escalera fought two of the most savage wars against each other the sport has ever seen, the first one was so brutal it is named "The Bloody Battle of Bayamon." The sequel didn't disappoint either. Alfredo Escalera was a colorful character, he used to show up at weigh-ins with his pet Python named Ali.
Alexis Arguello detonates a vicious right on the chin of Alfredo Escalera
ALEXIS ARGUELLO-ALFREDO ESCALERA II: A SUPERB SECOND ACT
As a rule, sequels seldom live up to their originals much less exceed them. This is especially prevalent in the film industry because for every one that soars above the imprint created by the first film (“The Godfather II,” “The Empire Strikes Back,” “Aliens”) there are dozens that, in retrospect, should never have been attempted ("Caddyshack II," "Grease II").
The same phenomenon applies to sports, especially boxing. It is rare that second acts rise above the bar established by the first but when it happens it's magical. The two-fight series between Bobby Chacon and Cornelius Boza-Edwards is a prime example; while their first fight was largely controlled by Boza-Edwards (who won by 14th round TKO when Chacon couldn't answer the bell), their epic second meeting won by Chacon was deemed THE RING's 1983 Fight of the Year.
Thirty five years ago today, Alexis Arguello and Alfredo Escalera managed to exceed the lofty standards established by their first meeting on Jan. 28, 1978, a fight so ferocious that it was dubbed “The Bloody Battle of Bayamon.” There, Arguello's elegant fists literally cut Escalera's face to ribbons and by the time the fight was stopped in round 13 the now ex-champion's upper lip was nearly torn off. Through it all Escalera fought with a mixture of passion and desperation that won plenty of hearts but wasn't enough to counteract Arguello's clinical savagery.
Arguello's impressive performance vaulted him into the pound-for-pound conversation with Roberto Duran, Carlos Zarate, Wilfredo Gomez, Danny “Little Red” Lopez, Antonio Cervantes, Miguel Canto and Pipino Cuevas among others. Arguello appeared on his way to a dream match with “Manos de Piedra” with knockout victories over Mario Mendez, Rey Tam and Diego Acala but a shocking majority decision loss to Vilomar Fernandez combined with Duran's need to move up in weight effectively killed that match. With Duran jumping to welterweight to pursue further glories, Arguello notched his third defense of the 130-pound belt with a methodical 15-round decision over Arturo Leon to set up the rematch with Escalera.
Five months after losing the belt to Arguello, Escalera returned to the ring with a 10-round decision over Rogelio Castanena in San Juan and 53 days later – as the co-feature to Fernandez-Arguello – he scorched Larry Stanton in three rounds. But three months later the MSG upset bug bit Escalera as Julio “Diablito” Valdez scored a surprising 10-round decision. Despite the defeat, Arguello-Escalera II was set for Feb. 4, 1979 at the Pellazo dello Sport in Rimini, Italy. Why Italy? Here's why: An available venue on relatively short notice, a favorable tax situation and the presence of heavyweight contender Alfio Righetti and Italian lightweight champion Giancarlo Usai on the undercard.
Arguello (60-4, 49 knockouts) strained to get his 5-foot-10 inch frame down to 129 while the 5-foot-8 Escalera (42-9-2, 27 KOs), who stuffed 10 title defenses in his two-and-a-half year reign before losing his crown to Arguello, scaled a more comfortable 129¾. Escalera, nicknamed “Salsero” for his love of salsa and “The Snake Man” for bringing his six-foot pet python Ali to weigh-ins and ring walks, went snake-less this night due to customs concerns. The claustrophobic 16-foot ring virtually guaranteed an action fight but little did anyone know how much action they were about to see.
Once the opening bell sounded it was clear Escalera had made several adjustments. First, he held his hands higher than in the first fight, surely remembering the effects of Arguello's thunderous and razor-sharp fists. Second, he appeared to have kicked his habit of throwing back-handed punches, a violation for which he was cautioned several times in fight one. Third, he was less willing to brawl with Arguello, something he considered a major mistake in their earlier encounter. Finally, he did a better job of blocking and ducking under Arguello's dangerous hooks. Conversely, Arguello was Arguello: Straight up stance, high guard, efficient punches, economical movement, sledgehammer power, Job's patience and artistic craftsmanship.
By the midway point of a probing round one Arguello scored with a pinpoint four-punch combination while the advancing Escalera connected with a short hook to the jaw. In the final minute Arguello's rapier jabs and heavier power shots penetrated Escalera's guard more often than the challenger's earnest but inaccurate efforts.
Escalera carried the first two minutes of round two by bulling Arguello to the ropes and pounding him with hooks, compact rights, sticky body shots and occasional uppercuts to the head and stomach. A heavy lead right spun Arguello's head but the champ, as always, kept his cool. Arguello rebounded well in the round's final 35 seconds with a hefty right to the chin, a potent hook to the face and a solid right-left that forced Escalera to give ground.
The bristling two-way action continued in the third with Arguello jabbing well to the body and throwing forceful hooks and overhand rights. Arguello drew first blood late in the round when a prickly jab cut the area under Escalera's right eye. This was no surprise, for the Mexican-made eight-ounce Casanova gloves featured a seam down each side that was thought to increase the probability of cuts.
A charged-up Arguello accelerated the pace in round four as he flurried to the body and fired powerful hooks and crosses every time Escalera tried to turn the tide. As Escalera's situation grew more desperate, his back-handing ways returned. Referee Angelo Poletti cautioned the challenger but refrained from issuing point penalties.
Escalera's crisis deepened midway through the fourth when a compact hook to the chin suddenly dropped Escalera on his behind near the ropes. Up at two, Escalera appeared OK as he wiped his gloves on his trunks and jumped up and down during the rest of Poletti's count. Arguello worked the left hand overtime as he tried to finish Escalera, but when that didn't work he fired a right-left-right that shook the ex-champ. Within a minute Escalera regained his equilibrium and even managed to land several blows at close range before round's end.
With blood cascading from Escalera's eye cut, the challenger tried to take the fight to Arguello in the fifth. That move proved disastrous because Arguello, even with his back to the ropes, still carried enormous power. Another crackling hook to the chin floored Escalera a second time and as he arose the furious challenger shook his arms in frustration. After taking the mandatory eight count Escalera threw himself into Arguello's cannons and the champion responded by landing a fusillade that drove the Puerto Rican across the ring. Every punch in the Arguello arsenal rained down on Escalera and a flush one-two to the jaw prompted Poletti to administer a standing eight count.
Even while standing on the cliff's edge in terms of losing the fight Escalera remained fearless. He hurled himself toward Arguello with both fists pumping and a long right to the jaw managed to temporarily stop Arguello in his tracks. Escalera more than held his own during a furious exchange at point-blank range and the Italian crowd, charmed by his bravery, adopted Escalera as their favorite. The last 20 seconds saw Escalera stage an improbable rally that grew stronger as the crowd grew louder. At the bell the two locked eyes for a long moment. Arguello cocked his head to the side and nodded his acknowledgement while Escalera returned the gesture with the tiniest bob of the head.
Escalera's stand ensured that if Arguello was to win, he'd have to work hard to earn it. But beside the two knockdowns, the challenger paid an additional price in the form of a severe cut over the left eye. No matter: Escalera long ago decided that victory would require his every resource — including the last drop of blood in his body.
Escalera continued to drive forward in the sixth, both to keep Arguello on the back foot and to prevent the champion from getting the necessary room to deliver his long-armed bombs. Although Arguello continued to score it was Escalera's seemingly quixotic quest that became the driving narrative.
Arguello's precision bombs widened Escalera's left eye cut to the point that it was gushing blood, prompting Poletti to call a medical time out. But before the ring physician could even react Escalera's chief second jumped onto the ring apron and wiped away the crimson with his towel. Poletti, apparently convinced all was well, allowed the fight to continue.
Escalera's go-for-broke tactics escalated in the seventh as several overhand rights nailed Arguello early in the session. Although behind on points and smarting from several facial injuries, Escalera had every reason to feel encouraged. He had absorbed Arguello's best punches and, despite two knockdowns and a standing eight-count, he wasn't only still standing but he also was fighting back hard. With the crowd solidly behind him, Escalera used that reservoir of positive energy to add to his foundation.
With a minute remaining in the seventh, Escalera's comeback effort reached a crescendo. Escalera maneuvered Arguello toward the ropes, then landed a pair of crunching hooks to the jaw that stunned the champion. Escalera's inspired follow-ups drove Arguello across the ring and suddenly the champion appeared to be in trouble. A long hook to the face opened a cut above Arguello's right eye and even after tasting a trademark Arguello cross Escalera, now spotting Arguello's cut, smirked and verbally taunted his tormentor. At the bell, Escalera wrapped his left arm around Arguello's neck and patted him on the face with his right glove.
"I've fought with cuts on my face almost every round I've faced you," Escalera's actions seemed to say. "Now, it's your turn."
Not only was Arguello cut over one eye, he also sported discolorations above and below the other. The momentum had clearly swung toward the challenger and it was up to Arguello to figure out a way to take it back.
Arguello started the eighth by going back to basics. He worked Escalera's eye with stiff jabs and fired power shots at every opportunity. But Escalera, still riding the wave of momentum, charged in and landed bombs with both hands. At one point he threw five consecutive hooks and when he bulled Arguello to the ropes he stayed on him by laying on the champion's chest and pumping away with clusters of hooks and uppercuts. A somewhat unruffled Arguello pawed at his cut with the right glove but quickly regained himself with a quick hook and a snappy jab to the face. Still, Escalera's high-energy pace carried the round.
As the ninth round opened ringside commentator Howard Cosell characterized the fight perfectly by labeling it "a tremendous fight. Vicious? Yes. Bloody? Yes. But two warriors, that's what they are. Each courageous, and Arguello appearing to be the more tired of the two. But it was Escalera who looked like he would be put away as early as the fourth or fifth round. He survived. He has come back."
The round's slower pace clearly benefited Arguello's thoughtful, cerebral approach. Granted the time to think and execute, Arguello's jabs worsened the cut around Escalera's left eye and stemmed the challenger's emotion-fueled surge. Arguello regained the crispness and rhythm of the early rounds and like Escalera before him he was comforted by the fact that he had taken the challenger's best and lived to tell about it. The question now: Who would produce the next big plot twist?
Following a give-and-take 10th edged by Arguello's sharper and heavier blows, the champion started the 11th with a vigorous assault that forced Escalera across the ring. Escalera quickly shook off the blows and delivered a jolting hook-cross combo.
As Escalera continued to come at Arguello his face was increasingly more unrecognizable. Not only was he cut around both eyes, the area over his left orb and the left side of his face was swollen and his mouth dripped blood. But still, he fought on. On the other hand Arguello's eye cut, thanks to chief second and cut man Arturo "Cuyo" Hernandez, was under control.
A huge one-two propelled Escalera back a half-step but the challenger instantly responded with a left uppercut to the jaw. Arguello nailed Escalera with a lead right to the face and a stabbing jab caused blood to pour out of the left eye cut. The brutality level rose with every passing second and with the end of the 11th there were 720 scheduled seconds of action remaining.
Though his body was badly compromised, Escalera's defiance continued to burn strongly as his overhand right landed flush on Arguello's jaw early in the 12th. The equally combative champion responded moments later with a rifle-shot lead right to the chin that paused Escalera's advance by mere moments. The pace remained kinetic and compelling despite the obvious physical toll.
It is unknown whether Arguello knew of, or cared about, the fears surrounding the number 13 but if ever a fighter had reason to debunk triskaidekaphobia it was he. Arguello captured his first world championship, the WBA featherweight title, by knocking out future Hall of Famer Ruben Olivares in the 13th. He won his second divisional championship by stopping Escalera in round 13. And he retained that championship by knocking out Escalera in round 13.
The end came with startling suddenness. As had been the case throughout the series it was a hook, not Arguello's vaunted right cross, that was Escalera's nemesis and this time the blow was short, exquisitely timed and definitive. Escalera fell backward to the canvas and tried valiantly to rise once again, but at Poletti's count of eight the challenger's legs gave out. Escalera spun to his left and fell face first into the white corner pad, his bloody face leaving a smear near the “M” in “Rimini.” Poletti had no choice but to count Escalera out. The time: 1:24.
The victorious Arguello congratulated his still-dazed rival seconds later as the crowd applauded both men's efforts. They – as well as everyone lucky enough to see it on TV – knew they had just witnessed a ring classic. Arguello couldn't have asked for a more fitting way to register the 50th knockout of his career while Escalera honored himself in defeat. It was a most worthy second act.
Though Escalera fought for four-and-a-half more years he never again challenged for a major title. A 10-round decision loss to Charlie “White Lightning” Brown in September 1983 brought down the curtain to a 13-year career that saw Escalera compile a 53-14-3 (31) record, including 11-4-1 (4) after the Arguello rematch.
Arguello, just 29 days younger than Escalera, experienced many further ring glories. He defended his 130-pound belt four more times against Rafael "Bazooka" Limon, Bobby Chacon, Ruben Castillo and Rolando Navarrete before giving it up due to weight issues. He seamlessly moved up to 135 by defeating Cornelius Boza-Edwards, Jose Luis Ramirez and Robert Vasquez and captured his third divisional title by outpointing respected WBC kingpin Jim Watt. The hits kept on coming as he disposed of Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini (KO 14), Roberto Elizondo (KO 7), James “Bubba” Buscheme (KO 6) and Andy Ganigan (KO 5) before history came calling again. A highlight reel KO of Kevin Rooney set up a superfight with Aaron Pryor in November 1982.
Arguello twice tried to become the first fighter ever to win major titles in four weight classes but “The Hawk” proved too much as he stopped “The Explosive Thin Man” in 14 rounds, then, in a sequel that at times neared the original's greatness, in 10. Over the next 11-plus years Arguello launched a pair of two-fight comebacks. He went 2-0 with two knockouts in the first before medical issues forced him to stay away for the next eight-and-a-half years. Then, two years after being enshrined in the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1992, Arguello launched a second comeback that saw him win a majority decision over Jorge Palomares, then lose a unanimous decision to the colorful Scott “Pink Cat” Walker. The final record: 89-8 (70).
Alexis Arguello vs Alfredo Escalera I, known as "The Bloody Battle of Bayamon", Arguello stopped Escalera in round 13 of the ferocious struggle.
Alexis Arguello vs Alfredo Escalera II.
Alexis Arguello defends his WBC junior lightweight title with a 13th round TKO of Alfredo Escalera, Arguello scored two knockdowns and forced a standing eight count before ending the fight with a left hook.
This brings us to the Aaron Pryor fights, Alexis Arguello fought Aaron Pryor twice, in both fights Arguello was attempting to become the first fighter in the history of boxing to win world championships in four weight divisions. These fights happened at the tail end of Arguello's career. If you're not familiar with Aaron Pryor, then you know nothing about boxing, he was nicknamed "The Hawk" and he earned that nickname because of the ferocious manner in which he devastated his opponents. Aaron Pryor finished his career with a record of 39-1, and the one loss on his record was to Bobby Joe Young at welterweight in a fight in which Pryor showed up out of shape and using drugs at the time. The fight ended when an accidental clash of heads occurred and the referee didn't see it. The referee thought that Young had legitimately knocked Pryor down. Pryor got up woozy, went back down to one knee, and was counted out, Young was awarded the KO victory. It was a joke of an ending, and I really wouldn't even count that loss on Pryor's record, so he was never really truly beaten in my opinion. Bobby Joe Young beat the ghost of Aaron Pryor, he didn't beat the real Aaron Pryor, the guy that loved the violence of boxing and pointed his glove at every opponent in a threatening manner before each fight. The real Aaron Pryor was an incredible fighter who the top fighters of his day avoided like the plague. He was fast, strong, hit incredibly hard, and was tougher than old shoe leather and mean as a snake. He had it all. I'll talk about the Arguello vs Pryor fights tomorrow, they were brutal fights and the first one had controversy that's talked about to this day.
Arguello vs Pryor I, This was one of the most epic fights in boxing history, and it was marked by controversy, what was in that Black bottle that Aaron Pryor drank from just before round 14?
40 Years Ago: The Aaron Pryor-Alexis Arguello Classic
Two great fighters, one of them going for history. Frenetic action, a brutal ending. And controversy. This and a whole lot more is what fight fans got 40 years ago today when Aaron Pryor and Alexis Arguello fought their epic 140 pound battle. Fighting in Miami, at The Orange Bowl, Pryor of Cincinnati, and Arguello of Nicaragua put it all on the line in daring to be great. For many fans, what followed was THE fight of the 1980s; which is of course saying plenty when we know we got super-fights such as Hagler-Hearns, Leonard-Hearns, Leonard-Hagler and more that decade. 27 year old Pryor, an absolute buzz-saw of a fighter who had energy to burn, his engine capable of driving him on relentlessly, was unbeaten at 31-0 and he was making the sixth defence of the WBA and Ring Magazine light-welterweight titles. Pryor was hungry (see starving) for the kind of mainstream stardom Arguello enjoyed. Arguello, three years the older man, was 72-5 and he had ruled the world at featherweight, super-featherweight and lightweight. Against Pryor, Arguello was attempting to make history, this by becoming the first boxer to win world titles in four different weight divisions. Pryor, the rugged, all-action warrior, and Arguello, the classy (in and out of the ring), smooth operator, served up one of the greatest fights in history. Both men came out firing on all cylinders, giving us an opening round that ranks right up there with the torrid Hagler-Hearns round one (which was, at this time, still some two-and-a-half years away). Pryor, setting the pace the way Hagler would in his greatest fight, was met by Arguello, who stood and traded shots with the defending champ. The tone was set – it was all guns blazing and both warriors were keen to slug it out. The rounds were seemingly flying by and Pryor, with his faster hands, was edging quite a few of them. But Arguello, with his vaunted punching power, was always dangerous. Simply put, nobody could dare take their eyes off the action for even a second. Both men showed an amazing chin, Pryor especially. Eventually, indeed inevitably, with his punch output having long since reached the point of crazy, Pryor at last began to show fatigue, to slow down. Busted up around the face, “The Hawk” was fighting the hardest fight of his career. But so too was Arguello. The Championship Rounds were super-special. Arguello landed flush shots on Pryor in the 13th, his bombs somehow being taken by the possessed champion. And then came the aforementioned controversy. Between rounds 13 and 14, Pryor, looking dead-tired, was given a drink from the infamous “black bottle.” Pryor’s trainer, Panama Lewis, was overheard in the corner asking for a specific bottle – “no, not that one, the one I mixed.” What was in the bottle nobody can ever say, but this much is known: Pryor roared out for round 14 with fire and fury. Pryor was devastating in his renewed attack, the champion battering an almost exhausted Arguello around the ring. Then, with Arguello stuck on the ropes, Pryor unleashed hell, this in the form of around 20 unanswered punches. Arguello refused to fall but he was in bad shape. Eventually, as the third man dived in to stop the fight, Arguello collapsed to the mat, utterly beaten. It was a savage ending to a brutal fight. It’s a shame the controversial element attached to this fight threatened to spoil it a little. In the eyes of some, Pryor’s magnificent win IS tarnished due to the suspicion of cheating on the part of his trainer (also, Pryor did not undertake a post-fight drug test; the fighter and his team stating how no-one had come and asked for a urine sample). A rematch had to happen and it did. This time, 10 months later, and Pryor stopped Arguello in the tenth round. By this time, Panama Lewis had been banned from boxing due to taking the padding out of the gloves of another of his fighters, Luis Resto; this in the Billy Collins fight of June, 1983. For the Arguello return, Pryor was cornered by Emanuel Steward. Pryor had again proven he was too much for Arguello, with or without Panama Lewis in his corner. Still, the controversy refused to go away. But all these years later, and fight fans everywhere celebrate the classic fight that took place four decades ago. Some things cannot be spoiled, no matter what.
So that's the big controversy that is talked about to this day, what was in that Black bottle that Pryor's trainer Panama Lewis gave to him before the start of round 14? For what it's worth, I don't know what was in it, if anything, and I don't think it matters one bit. Aaron Pryor was just a damn great fighter and the great Alexis Arguello had just met his match. It was hard to watch Arguello stopped so brutally like that, I love Arguello, he's right up there at the top of my list of favorites, but Arguello would tell you himself, that's boxing. In my opinion, what made the difference in the fight was Aaron Pryor's sheer aggression, he was just a different animal, with a kill or be killed mindset.
Alexis Arguello after being brutally stopped by Aaron Pryor in their first fight.
Here is a bit more about the infamous Black bottle in the first Arguello vs Pryor fight. Like I said, personally I think the whole thing is ridiculous, this is Aaron freaking Pryor we're talking about, he didn't need any help, the man was a werewolf.
Referee Stanley Christodoulou cradles the fallen Arguello
AFTER 40 YEARS, AARON PRYOR-ALEXIS ARGUELLO 1 STILL AMONG THE GREATEST MATCHUPS OF ALL TIME
Some of the most memorable fights in boxing history are commemorated in large part because of a controversial ending or an unusual in-fight occurrence. Set pieces that fall into that category, wholly or in part, include Mike Tyson’s “Bite Fight” disqualification loss to Evander Holyfield, Julio Cesar Chavez’s 12th-round stoppage of Meldrick Taylor only two seconds from the final bell in JCC’s desperate bid to pull out a victory in a fight he was losing on the scorecards, and Jack Dempsey’s “Long Count” points setback to Gene Tunney, in which the “Manassa Mauler” refused to promptly go to a neutral corner after registering a seventh-round knockdown, giving Tunney precious additional seconds to recover. Fans are left to forever speculate and debate as to how those and similar asterisk-highlighted bouts might have concluded for historical purposes had circumstances played out a bit differently.
“I knew that in the final rounds the man would be divided from the boy.”
– Aaron Pryor
A familiar addition to the list of “what-if?” matchups is the November 12, 1982, battle that pitted Ring/WBA junior welterweight champion Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor against Ring/WBC lightweight titlist Alexis Arguello in Miami’s Orange Bowl. Conspiracy theorists, mostly those who supported Arguello, hold firm to the notion that the Nicaraguan national hero, who was bidding to become the first boxer to win widely recognized world title belts in four weight classes, was the victim of shenanigans orchestrated by Pryor’s shady and later-disgraced trainer, Panama Lewis. The outcome of the savage, two-way battle was still seemingly in doubt when, during the one-minute break between Rounds 13 and 14, Lewis told another of Pryor’s cornermen to give him a black water bottle, “the one I mixed,” which led to speculation it contained an illegal and performance-boosting substance. After taking a swig or two from the bottle, Pryor – who had been fighting at his characteristically furious pace since the opening bell – again came out blasting, initiating a sequence in which he landed 15 unanswered blows that sent Arguello slumping to the canvas, where he remained unconscious for nearly four minutes. Arguello finally was revived after receiving oxygen, but nearly seven minutes had elapsed before he could be helped onto his stool, after which he was taken to a nearby hospital for observation.
The fact that Lewis eventually served prison time for removing glove padding and doctoring the handwraps of his fighter Luis Resto, an underdog journeyman who administered a particularly brutal beating to hot prospect “Irish” Billy Collins on June 16, 1983, gave some credence to the possibility that Pryor might also have benefited from unpermitted assistance from his chief second in the first of his two classic showdowns with Arguello. But Pryor made a strong case that he needed no such help, as his 14th-round flurry was in line with the torrid pace he had maintained all along. And his even more emphatic 10th-round knockout of Arguello in their September 9, 1983, rematch at Las Vegas’ Caesars Palace seemingly ended most if not all doubt as to who was the better of the two future Hall of Famers, at least on the nights in question.
Pryor was known for his menacing intensity.
And if all that weren’t enough, Arguello, who later became fast friends with Pryor — as can happen with fighters who earn one another’s undying respect in the cauldron of the ring — said he harbored no lingering suspicions that the Cincinnati native had gained an advantage from the contents of the notorious black bottle, which was not examined by the same Florida boxing commission that also failed to subject Pryor to urinalysis testing. Lewis steadfastly maintained that the only thing in the bottle was peppermint schnapps.
“There are 24 rounds between us that I can never forget,” Arguello told me during the IBHOF’s 1995 induction festivities, which he attended along with Pryor. “From the first round of the first fight, when the bell rang, we gave 100 percent of ourselves.”
And the “black bottle” brouhaha?
“I did my best,” Arguello shrugged. “The other guy did better. That’s simple enough to understand.”
Also simple to understand is that those 24 rounds of trial by combat have so risen in legend and lore that the status of their rivalry, especially the 14 rounds of their epic first meeting, now are viewed as more meaningful than they were the night that the combatants electrified an on-site crowd of 23,800, a remarkable turnout considering that the telecast was also readily available to HBO subscribers in Dade and Broward counties. Consider this: Pryor-Arguello I was not The Ring magazine’s 1982 Fight of the Year; Bobby Chacon’s 15-round unanimous-decision dethronement of WBC junior lightweight champion Rafael “Bazooka” Limon was. But lack of that designation, as it turned out, did not prevent Pryor-Arguello from receiving a major upgrade eight years later. By the end of the 1980s, The Ring had proclaimed Pryor-Arguello I as its Fight of the Decade, in addition to being the eighth-greatest boxing match ever. There are those who would say that its place on the all-time pecking order might also gain some upward mobility if the electorate was called upon for a revote.
None of the plaudits going to a truly great test of wills and skills would be flowing so freely had not the action inside the ropes justified it, but the lead-up to fight night checked off all the boxes for creating interest that spread nationwide (and beyond) like wildfire. For one thing, the in-their-prime pairing of two of boxing’s best was the first major bout staged in the Miami area since Muhammad Ali, still then known as Cassius Clay, gave pretty strong evidence that he really was the “Greatest,” or soon would be, with his sixth-round stoppage of heavily favored heavyweight champion Sonny Liston in the Miami Beach Convention Center.
Even more so than boxing’s long-delayed grand return to Miami, however, the matchup of the 27-year-old Pryor, who entered the ring with a 31-0 record with 29 knockouts, and the 30-year-old Arguello, who came in with a 72-5 mark with 59 KOs, represented all that boxing is supposed to be but isn’t as often as it should be. (See the maddeningly long delay in making the Floyd Mayweather Jr.-Manny Pacquiao megafight, or the ongoing difficulty in pairing Errol Spence Jr. and Terence “Bud” Crawford for the undisputed welterweight championship.) Pryor-Arguello was widely viewed as a 50/50 fight of two outstanding fighters, with vastly different styles and personalities, while they were at or near their peak efficiency.
Pryor’s hard trek to success from a lifetime of poverty, and the assortment of grudges that can arise from his dire youthful circumstances, stamped him one of the angriest of his sport’s angry young men, maybe as much as his frenetic, nonstop punching style. “The Hawk” (named so “because I swoop down on my opponents,” he explained) not only threw punches in bunches, he fired away as if his finger was always pressed down hard on the trigger of a pugilistic machine gun with an unending belt of bullets. As his stature grew with each knockout (he arrived in Miami with a streak of 21 consecutive victories inside the distance), so were fight fans increasingly familiarized with his dysfunctional childhood and adolescence. And the formidable punching power Pryor so frequently exhibited on the way to achieving elite status had done nothing to lift the Sequoia-sized chip off his shoulder.
Arguello vs. Cornelius Boza-Edwards in 1980.
Denied a place on the 1976 U.S. Olympic boxing team because of a loss at the Trials to eventual gold medalist Howard Davis Jr., Pryor chafed at having to turn pro with a string of below-the-radar fights for three-figure purses while Davis signed a $1.5 million contract with CBS. Pryor also was resentful of the fact that the most popular of America’s breakthrough stars of the ’76 Montreal Olympics, Sugar Ray Leonard, did not use his considerable clout to get him in any of the televised preliminary bouts on Leonard’s high-profile cards. Incredibly, Pryor did not appear on national TV until his 22nd pro bout.
In a profile of Pryor for Sports Illustrated, Pat Putnam wrote that “his lifestyle outside the ring is, unfortunately, as confusing and destructive as his tactics within it.” Still, for all Pryor’s inability to comfortably fit within polite society, Putnam acknowledged that he “without question is the most exciting fighter in the world. He fights like a driven, obsessed man, and in a way that’s manifested by a quest for acceptance.”
Everything about Pryor stood in stark contrast to the flawless and pristine image in and out of the ring presented by Arguello, who steadfastly declined to engage opponents in pre-fight trash-talking. Even after Pryor tried to get under his skin by sarcastically calling him “Alice” after their fight date was first announced, Arguello refused to respond in kind, and his effusive praise of the man with whom he would swap punches even had the effect of getting Pryor to tone down his normally inflammatory rhetoric. But that didn’t mean Pryor felt he was being accorded the same respect from the media and public as was being shown to Arguello.
“I’m 31-0, 29 knockouts, and still proving myself,” he complained. “Every time I fight, my opponent’s supposed to be so good before the fight, but after I beat him they write about what he was and what he used to be.”
Perhaps because Miami has such a large Latino population that has always been supportive of one of its own, Arguello — who turned pro at bantamweight, was making the jump from 135 and would be fighting for the first time at 140 — was getting most of the sports book action. For those favoring Arguello, another step up in weight did not matter much, if at all. Maybe that’s because they remembered how dominant he had been in dethroning Scotland’s Jim Watt for the Ring/WBC lightweight championship on June 20, 1981, in London.
“I have a car business, and if I had to do an estimate on my face, I’d say it’s totaled,” Watt said of the gory reflection he saw in the mirror in his dressing room.
Others picking Arguello reasoned that his non-frenzied demeanor and laser-accurate counterpunching would largely neutralize and ultimately overcome Pryor’s hair-on-fire tactics from the opening bell. “I’ll take precision any day over power,” Arguello said when asked how his more patient style matched up against Pryor’s. “If he starts with fire, we might be playing with fire. I don’t know.”
Regardless of who all the media types saw as the eventual winner, most envisioned a fight that would live up to the runaway hype.
“This is a great fight, everything you want,” mused Ferdie Pacheco, Muhammad Ali’s personal physician and an NBC TV boxing analyst. “You have a good-looking, polite gentleman and the bizarre villain. ‘The Hawk’ can only fight exciting – he has a hysterical style and he’s one of the toughest little guys I’ve seen. You’ve got to kill him to get him out of the ring. But I can’t see how he can overcome all the experience and the beautiful style of Arguello.”
Arguello began to find his mark more often in the middle rounds. (Photo by Manny Millan /Sports Illustrated via Getty Images)
Pacheco’s view was more or less seconded by the Miami Herald’s esteemed sports columnist Edwin Pope, who had been a collegiate boxer at the University of Georgia. Pope wrote that “I just think the hummingbird (Arguello) will dodge the hurricane (Pryor).”
Taking a contradictory position were the Miami-based Dundee brothers, Chris and Angelo, who felt that Hurricane Aaron represented howling winds and a tidal surge too high and powerful for even Arguello to withstand indefinitely.
“I take Pryor,” said Chris. “Too strong, too young, too much pressure.”
Added Angelo: “I make it a very tough fight. Everybody seems to be picking Arguello. I lean a little toward Pryor. One thing that offsets a precision fighter like Arguello is a fighter you can’t program. And you can’t program Pryor. You don’t know which way he’s going to come at you.”
The main event was preceded by a spectacular fireworks display (and a loaded undercard that featured appearances by three former world champions, including Roberto Duran) that hinted at what was to follow. As expected, Pryor went at Arguello as if he were a cavalry commander leading the Charge of the Light Brigade. Maybe not as expected to some, Arguello had difficulty settling into a rhythm in the face of such unabated ferociousness.
“One thing that offsets a precision fighter like Arguello is a fighter you can’t program. And you can’t program Pryor.”
– Angelo Dundee
But Arguello began to find openings to place stinging shots in the middle rounds, which had the effect of inciting Pryor to again pick up the pace. He came out for the 14th round reinvigorated – maybe because of the contents of the mysterious black bottle, and maybe not – and his frantic flurry caused referee Stanley Christodoulou to step in and wave things off at the 1:06 mark. It went into the books as a TKO, as Christodoulou did not bother to initiate a count as an out-cold Arguello slowly slid to the canvas.
The official scorecards entering the climatic 14th round had Christodoulou and judge Ove Ovesen of Denmark favoring Pryor by 127-124 margins while judge Ken Morita of Japan saw Arguello ahead by 127-125.
“I tornadoed him the first five rounds, then he started picking me apart in the middle rounds, but I stormed back,” said Pryor, who was paid a career-high $1.6 million (after a slim payday of just $100,000 for his preceding defense, a sixth-round stoppage of Japan’s Akio Kameda on July 4, 1982) to $1.5 million for Arguello. “He weathered the storm early. He’s a great champion — not was, but is. It was an educational fight for me. He showed me a lot. He showed me there are some guys who have a heart as big as mine.
“Arguello is very strong, the hardest puncher I’ve ever faced. But he never had me worried. I never thought it was over. At the end of the 11th round, I yelled to Arguello, ‘Come on, this is it. Let’s fight.’ I knew that in the final rounds the man would be divided from the boy … At the end of the fight, it sort of reminded me of Muhammad Ali’s bout with Larry Holmes. I looked at Alexis and I sort of felt sorry for him.”
Writer John Crittenden praised Arguello as having “movie-star looks and a gentleman’s manners” and “the stuff that brought honor to this pugnacious game. He was a breath of fresh air in a sport filled with the smell of stale cigar smoke and sweat.”
All well and good, but Arguello’s good manners ultimately were trumped by what Pryor brought to the fray, described by Crittendon as “eyes wild with the fury he would soon send into his fists.”
The rematch, won more convincingly by Pryor, was not the end of the tale involving two future inductees into the International Boxing Hall of Fame (Pryor was inducted in 1996, the capstone to a great career in which he went 39-1 with 35 KOs, and Arguello in 1992 with an 82-8 mark with 65 KOs). Both fighters returned to Canastota, New York, on several occasions, and in tandem they were among the most sought-after targets of autograph-seekers who recognized how they were destined to march into history as individuals and as partners in an epic rivalry that has endured the test of time.
“It’s like a dream come true every time I’m here,” Pryor told me in 2013 of the rush he always got from showing up for the IBHOF induction festivities, which he did 20 times. “You can get hooked. If you come once, you’re probably going to come year after year after year. To me, it’s one of the greatest feelings you could ever have to come to this special place. I look forward to it like a little kid looks forward to Christmas. The fans just take you in. They embrace you.”
Interestingly, the angry bad boy of boxing that Pryor had been found a measure of peace years after he conquered an opponent even more daunting than Arguello. He took his first hit of cocaine days after his second confrontation with Arguello, in “The Hawk’s” adopted hometown of Miami, where, I wrote, “pharmaceutical escapes from reality were as much a part of the landscape as palm trees and white-sand beaches.” It wasn’t too long that his addictions, taxes and alimony from two failed marriages ate away at his ring earnings until nothing was left.
“After Buddy (LaRosa, his estranged manager) took his half, the government took its half (of what was left),” Pryor said. “Then after that, my wife at the time had to have her half. After everybody got their half, I didn’t have half of nothing.”
Pryor was sentenced to prison on a drug conviction in 1991, and the following year he was a homeless crack addict living on the streets of his hometown of Cincinnati, shadowboxing in alleyways for handouts that might allow him to score his next drug hit. His weight dwindled to 100 pounds or so, and he admitted to considering suicide. But Pryor found love and redemption with his third wife, Frankie, also a recovering cocaine addict. By the time of his induction into the IBHOF, he was clean, and he remained so until his death, 11 days before his 61st birthday on October 20, 2016. His listed cause of death was heart disease, very likely accelerated by his cocaine addiction, but he had found the sort of contentment that proved so elusive even during his championship reign.
Arguello, the shining knight of his sport, took a turn for the worse after retirement, and for reasons that had once bedeviled Pryor. He was 57 and the mayor of Managua, Nicaragua’s capital, when he died on July 1, 2009, reportedly of a self-inflicted gunshot to his head, although many continue to believe foul play was involved. His apparent suicide came after his own descent into drug addiction and financial and marital difficulties.
Where Pryor and Arguello rate among the all-time greats continues to be a matter of individual or formulaic perspective. The Ring, using a complex system in which points were awarded on a variety of weighted scales, listed Arguello as the 22nd best fighter of the magazine’s 100-year existence in its February 2022 collector’s issue, with Pryor – arguably the best junior welterweight of all time – far back in the pack at No. 80. Another collector’s special, from June 2022, had Arguello at No. 18 of the 100 greatest punchers of the last 100 years while Pryor didn’t make the cut at all.
So let the arguments begin, or at least continue. What is indisputable is that two men, so alike in some ways and so starkly different in other ways, made magic on the night of November 12, 1982. Fight fans everywhere can only hope that Spence and Crawford, if they ever are to share the spotlight, can produce more of the same.
Words do this sport no justice, and words do the Arguello vs Pryor rivalry no justice. Here you have a man, Alexis Arguello, he beat nearly everyone you put in front of him, he was a legend and a hero to many, trying his damnest to make history and become the only man to win a championship in four weight divisions. It just wasn't meant to be and in the 10th round of their rematch, Alexis Arguello accepted that he just couldn't beat Aaron Pryor, that the dream was over.
Sept. 9, 1983: Pryor vs Arguello II
Do a Google search for Alexis Arguello and you end up with articles and videos about Aaron Pryor. Do one for Aaron Pryor and you end up with all kinds of links and posts about Alexis Arguello. It may not be entirely fair to either man, but these two champions and Hall Of Famers are defined to a great extent by each other. Much like Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, or John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg, the legacies and identities of Arguello and Pryor are wound up with each other and the two titanic battles they gave us in the early 1980s. And because those two clashes were so consequential, not to mention furiously competitive and exciting, they dwarf in significance almost every other match on their records. The destinies of these two warriors can never be separated.
As shattering as it was for Arguello when Pryor turned back his historic bid to become the first man to win world titles in four weight divisions, the experience of losing a major fight was not new to “The Explosive Thin Man.” In fact, as a young pro, he had lost two of the first five matches of his career, and in 1974 he failed in his initial attempt to win a world title, dropping a decision to Ernesto Marcel. He more than made up for that setback when he stopped Hall of Fame champion Ruben Olivares later the same year, and so began his great run as one of the best boxers on the planet. But even as a champion, Arguello knew defeat, dropping a split decision to Vilomar Fernandez in a non-title match in 1978.
But the loss to Pryor in 1982 was far more devastating. It wasn’t so much that in Pryor he encountered his most relentless and formidable adversary and that he took more punishment than in any previous bout, but more the fact that this was, by a large margin, the biggest fight of Alexis Arguello’s career, one of the biggest of the 80’s, a decade of huge fights. It was about the fact that Arguello had been perfectly positioned to become a superstar, and that the thousands in Miami’s Orange Bowl that November night were there expressly to see Alexis win, to see a new king of the sports world crowned.
One of the reasons Arguello was poised to become a true crossover star, joining the likes of Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran and Marvin Hagler as mainstream attractions, was because of his reputation for class and sportsmanship. Previous to his showdown with Pryor, his most high-profile match had been his 1981 title defense against Ray Mancini, a bout watched by millions on live national television. Young “Boom Boom” Mancini’s quest to win a world championship for his father, a top contender in the 1940’s whose ring career was cut short when he joined the army during World War II, had captured the imagination of American sports fans. They cheered him on as he gave Arguello a tough and exciting battle before Ray succumbed to the more experienced champion in round fourteen. But in the post-fight interviews, the victor was nothing short of gallant, expressing admiration and respect for Ray and predicting Mancini would soon come back and win a world title, a forecast which came true short months later.
“The Hawk” overwhelms Arguello in Miami.
This display of sportsmanship made a huge impression and endeared Alexis to millions. And in the victories that followed, all broadcast on live television, sports fans could count on Arguello — now regarded as one of the finest pugilists in the world pound-for-pound, as well as an elder statesman and a latter-day great — to offer his fallen opponents similar classy gestures. But in the aftermath of the loss to Pryor, sports fans saw a different side of the triple-crown king.
It’s important to remember that most boxing experts thought Arguello too experienced and skilled for Pryor, and that his fans eagerly anticipated their hero establishing himself as nothing short of a sports legend with a monumental win. The pressure was immense and so was the disappointment when Alexis was pummeled into helplessness at the end of a sensational battle. Looking back, we know there was no shame at all in losing to the irrepressible force of nature that was a prime Aaron Pryor, but at the time many viewed “The Hawk” as not quite in Arguello’s league. And such was the Nicaraguan’s mortification at his defeat that, by his own admission, he feigned unconsciousness after the bout was stopped, frightening many as he lay unresponsive on the canvas for several long minutes.
Arguello after being stopped in round fourteen.
And so the Alexis Arguello who emerged from the ring that night in Florida was a different man from the one who entered it. However, it was not defeat alone which left its mark on him, so much as defeat when millions of Latin Americans were fervently praying for his victory and betting large sums of money that he would redeem those prayers. Under the intense pressure, and with all the expectations and the ensuing disappointment, he cracked, and instead of modesty and class, Arguello showed the world bitterness and spite. Immediately following the loss he blamed his trainer, Eddie Futch, claiming the legendary coach had “overtrained” him and sapped his endurance. He would later apologize for the rash statement, calling it “the biggest mistake of his life,” but not before the venerable Futch vowed to never work with him again.
But no matter, there was in fact a better excuse to seize upon, that being the mysterious “mixed” water bottle which Pryor’s trainer, Panama Lewis, called for that night, just before the champion charged out and battered Arguello into submission. Those sympathetic to Alexis pointed to foul play by Lewis, especially after he was caught tampering with Luis Resto’s gloves the following June and was subsequently banned from boxing. Surely the real reason why Alexis Arguello, seemingly fated to make sports history in Miami, had fallen to a fighter most expected him to vanquish, was that Lewis, or someone, had undermined fair competition. Surely something explained the outcome other than the possibility that, while Arguello was a legend and a three division champion, Aaron Pryor had simply been the better man on the night.
Thus, the need to redeem himself, and rectify what many viewed as an unjust outcome, became Arguello’s obsession. And one might have thought that, given the status of the boxers and the sheer excitement of that first savage encounter, a rematch would have been the simplest and easiest of things to arrange. And yet it was not. Pryor held the World Boxing Association version of the super-lightweight title, and the WBA, for reasons no one could fathom, refused now to rank Arguello in their top ten, which meant he was not eligible for another title match. The sheer absurdity of the situation did not deter the WBA from denying him a ranking for several months, during which time both Pryor and Alexis made ring appearances, in the process risking millions of dollars.
Pryor, obeying the WBA’s bidding, turned in a perfunctory defense of his title, beating a boxer the sanctioning body absurdly deemed better than Alexis Arguello, Sang Hyun Kim of Korea. The fight was a deplorable mismatch and ended in round three. Meanwhile, Arguello, driven as he was to redeem himself, even though no redemption was needed given a career already more than Hall of Fame worthy, elected to face his former conqueror, Vilomar Fernandez, just four months after the loss to Pryor. He won a unanimous decision, but when the WBA still denied him a ranking, he then fought former WBA champion Claude Noel, who succumbed to Alexis in three rounds. Arguello was in fact preparing to face rising contender Billy Costello when, finally, the geniuses at the WBA realized the error of their ways and granted him a top ten ranking. And just like that, the rematch was on.
When Arguello vs Pryor II was officially announced, anticipation was just as high as for the first bout, but for different reasons. What spurred ticket sales in ’82 was adulation for Arguello and the expectation of history being made; this time it was the more straight-forward anticipation of straight-up excitement, of another action-packed war, that first scintillating clash regarded as one of the most exciting fights of recent years. But this time far fewer pundits were willing to bet the farm on Arguello seizing that fourth world title and thus the allure and magic of the initial Arguello vs Pryor battle was conspicuously absent. Instead of a massive football stadium filled to the rafters with delirious Latin Americans, the rematch was held at the more banal environs of Caesars Palace in Las Vegas.
Looking back, the more modest expectations, the delays and obstructions in allowing the rematch to happen: it was as if something was trying to save Alexis Arguello from a harsh reckoning with reality, with the painful truth that his failure to fulfill the expectations of so many had nothing to do with over-demanding trainers or mixed water bottles, but instead was about a driven champion in his prime who refused to lose.
And indeed, Arguello’s fate was evident, to all but the most hopeful, early in the final act of this almost-Shakespearean drama of ambition and hubris. At the bell, Pryor vs Arguello II started in the same fashion as the first fight, with a thrilling, fast-paced, toe-to-toe slugfest in the opening round, both warriors showing no fear and letting go huge punches, both men landing. But just forty seconds in Pryor threw two jabs and then an overhand right which clipped Alexis on the chin; the challenger stumbled backwards and toppled to the floor. Right then and there the worst fears of the Arguello faithful appeared confirmed. But Alexis was not prepared to accept that Pryor’s speed, aggressiveness and punching power were more than he could handle. Instead he rose and battled back valiantly, shaking Pryor before the end of the round with heavy right hands of his own.
Arguello down in round four.
Arguello down in round four.
Alexis rebounded in the next two rounds and in fact he imposed his will in a way he never had in the first fight, throwing combinations of power punches and forcing Pryor to give ground. In the second a right hand buckled the champion’s legs, sending him stumbling across the ring near the end of Arguello’s best round yet against “The Hawk.” And in round three it was the challenger hurting the champion with left hooks and right uppercuts to the body, Pryor smiling and shaking his head even as he backed away and flinched in the face of Arguello’s onslaught.
But just as his fans felt hope stirring in their hearts, Alexis was on the canvas again in round four after Pryor unleashed one of his whirling attacks and pounded home a huge right hand followed this time by a sharp left hook. Alexis beat the count and Pryor rushed in for the kill and the result was a series of furious exchanges, both men landing as the crowd roared, Arguello almost going down again. At the bell to end the round, the dazed challenger marched to the wrong corner.
But if Pryor or anyone else thought the man some called “El Caballero del Ring” was finished, they were dead wrong. The challenger surged back in the very next round, using his jab effectively and throwing combinations behind it. By round seven one of boxing’s great body punchers was finding a groove and crashing heavy artillery to Pryor’s belly, the painful blows causing the champion to complain to referee Richard Steele that more than a few were straying south of the border. Arguello pressed, striking with more body punches as well as right hands to the head, and he continued in round eight, mixing his punches beautifully, staggering the champion with heavy shots and giving his fervent fans reason to hope.
But just as Arguello appeared on the verge of taking over the fight, referee Steele abruptly intervened and administered a one point penalty to the challenger for low blows. The brief respite clearly aided the champion. Alexis tried to pick up where he had left off when action resumed, but suddenly he was tiring and by the end of round nine it was Pryor who had regained control, his punches hurting the fading challenger.
Round ten marked the end of the dream for Alexis Arguello and his fans. All his hopes of becoming a crossover sports star by winning an unprecedented fourth world title, and of reversing the most bitter and painful defeat of his long career, all of it was blown away for good by the irresistible whirlwind that was Aaron Pryor as the tireless champion launched a final ferocious attack. Sensing Alexis had little left, Pryor came forward fearlessly, disdaining defense and simply battering his man with one vicious power punch after another.
And it was then that a look of resignation settled on the handsome visage of Alexis Arguello. As he staggered about the ring, taking clean shot after clean shot, the undeniable truth, agonizing and irrevocable, finally became clear. And so after series of flush rights and lefts drove him once more to the canvas, there Alexis sat, calm and fully aware, his arms folded around his knees as he nodded and stoically allowed Steele to count him out. The painful revelation he had denied for ten long months was finally accepted as he sat and waited for the contest to officially end: Aaron Pryor was the better man and his victory in November had been hard-earned and well-deserved.
Alexis surrenders in round ten.
After, at the post-fight press conference, a tearful Alexis Arguello searched for a coherent explanation for his surrender. “I didn’t want to risk my life,” he said. “On the third knockdown, I was protecting myself. I thought about how good Pryor is and I said, ‘Jesus, I will stay here.'”
For Arguello and for his fans, this was of course not the ending they had anticipated. Yes, there had been defeats, but Alexis Arguello was a winner and a great champion, and all he needed to become immortal was just one more victory. Was it asking so much? Was it really a fight too far? In a word, yes. Because the man standing in his way was no ordinary pugilist, no ordinary warrior. Aaron Pryor proved his own greatness by blocking a legend’s path to boxing stardom. Thus the destinies of these two great champions can never be separated. Together, they are immortal.
Here are some great photos of Alexis Arguello's fights, and then I'll give my final word on him.
You might wonder why I spent so much time on Alexis Arguello. Well, for one, he was all class and the ultimate sportsman. Second, he was one of the best to ever do it. You look at his career and he always won with class and lost with class, and in his prime he was nigh unbeatable, a well oiled fighting machine, the ultimate blend of pure boxer and lethal puncher. He was also very cerebral, giving away rounds and often taking punishment just so he could assess his opponent's weaknesses and vulnerabilities waiting for the perfect time to strike. He was a beautiful fighter to watch, I would compare it to watching an artist paint a masterpiece stroke by stroke.
Alexis Arguello "The Explosive Thin Man" in his prime.
Like I said, Alexis Arguello was a wicked body puncher.
Jose Napoles, aka "Mantequilla", all-time great welterweight. His nickname is Spanish for "butter" and he was called that because he was as smooth as butter in the ring, a superb ring general and boxer with brutal knockout power in both hands. He is an absolute legend in this sport, and this is a great story and real up close look at him, love this kind of stuff, it's just fascinating.
Throughout boxing history the welterweight division has been blessed with exceptional prizefighters. Names such as Walker, Ross, McLarnin, Armstrong, Robinson, Griffith and Leonard are just a few of the greats that come to mind. However, another name cannot be overlooked when considering great 147 pounders, Jose Napoles.
Napoles' nickname "Mantequilla" is the Spanish word for butter and anybody who had the pleasure of watching this brilliant boxer perform understands that Napoles’ style was as smooth as butter. It was a style that combined great boxing skill, devastating punching power and cool control of the ring. It was a style that created trouble for any opponent he faced. I'd have to say the best way to describe Napoles’ style is "timeless". It was a style that could unravel the old timers and the new breed as well.
I had the opportunity to watch this great welterweight's career evolve into a world championship during the years I was boxing. Napoles started out as a lightweight, but had to take on the best junior welterweights and welterweights in the world in order to get fights. Napoles beat them all in convincing fashion until finally, with the help of a great promoter, a champion finally gave him a title shot.
I'll give a brief run down of Napoles early career, however, my story begins in 1968, about a year before he won the title. Although I never boxed with Napoles, I know three men who challenged Mantequilla for the title. Ironically, all three of these welterweight contenders challenged Napoles for the crown twice. Much of my opinion of Napoles is based on the words of these three men who know him far better than those of us who saw him from ringside or watched him train in the gym. You get to know exactly how great a fighter is, or is not, after banging it out with him for fifteen rounds.
The three contenders whom I am referring to are Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez, Hedgeman Lewis and Armando Muniz. All three were talented and tough welterweights during the 60's and 70's, and all three agree that they never fought anybody better than Jose Napoles.
Jose Napoles was born in Cuba on April 13, 1940. He made his pro boxing debut in 1958, at the age of 18, and fought the first four years of his professional career in Cuba. Between 1958 and 1961, Napoles put together a record of 17-1 (8 KO's) before fleeing the regime of Fidel Castro and making his home in Mexico. Without the perils of living in a communist country, Napoles would now have a chance to make a name for himself in the world of boxing.
Mexico was almost perfect for Napoles, a Spanish speaking culture and rich in boxing talent. Many of the world's best boxers under 147 pounds hailed from Mexico and the Cuban lightweight would have the opposition necessary to take him to the next level. Of course, it wouldn't be easy. Napoles wasn't a Mexican.
After sixteen months of inactivity, Napoles resumed his boxing career in Mexico in July of 1962. Napoles quickly scored three straight knockouts before winning a ten round decision over Tony Perez. In a rematch, Perez was awarded a controversial decision over Napoles. Napoles scored two more victories including a decision over the highly regarded Baby Vasquez before losing again, this time in a ten rounder to Alfredo Urbina, one of the greatest lightweights Mexico ever produced.
After losing to Urbina, Napoles went on a rampage and won 18 straight with 17 knockouts, including KO's over Urbina and Perez in rematches. He also defeated Junior Welterweight champs Carlos Hernandez and Eddie Perkins, Adolph Pruitt and scored two knockouts over L.C. Morgan. After losing on a cut to Morgan in their third fight, Napoles KO'd Morgan for the third time. From there, Napoles put together a string of victories that would lead right up to a shot at the welterweight championship.
In 1968, the legendary George Parnassus became the boxing promoter for the newly built "Forum" in Inglewood, California. Parnassus had promoted boxing for years in the Los Angeles area, as well as in Mexico. Parnassus had a connection that would allow him to bring the very best talent up from below the border to Los Angeles. He would feature the very best Mexican stars at the Forum and it was here that many would become world champions. Champions such as Ruben Olivares, Chucho Castillo and Carlos Zarate won world titles in Parnassus promotions at the Forum, and so did Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles.
Napoles made his U.S. debut at the Forum in Parnassus' initial promotion that featured bantamweight contenders Jesus Pimentel and Chucho Castillo. I was anxious to see Napoles and was at the Forum that night. However, Mantequilla didn't give us a long look. He KO'ed Lloyd Marshall half way thru the opening round.
A few months later I got a little longer look at the future welterweight king when I saw him flatten Ireland's Des Rea in five rounds on the undercard of a featherweight main event featuring Dwight Hawkins and Frankie Crawford at the Forum.
Hawkins was the number one rated featherweight at the time and helped train me for manager Johnny Flores. I had heard Flores and Hawkins talk about how great a fighter this Napoles was and after seeing him in person at the Forum and in the gym I had to agree. Anybody amazed by the talent of Roy Jones Jr. would be a lot less impressed had they seen Jose Napoles up close.
In April of 1969, Jose Napoles would finally get a shot at World Welterweight Champion Curtis Cokes. Napoles was 29-years-old and had been fighting professionally and defeating the best for 11 years when he stepped into the ring at the Forum before a sellout crowd of more than 18,000. Many of the spectators had come up from Mexico in buses that Parnassus had chartered and the sound of mariachis filled the arena. Mexico had adopted the transplanted Cuban as one of their own and when Napoles climbed thru the ropes the Forum exploded with excitement.
Napoles had his way with Cokes and battered the champion at well. After 13 rounds referee Dick young stopped the fight to save Cokes from further punishment. Jose Napoles had escaped communism, defeated the best in three divisions and now, after 11 difficult years was the Welterweight Champion of the world.
Less than three months after winning the title, Napoles gave Cokes a rematch and again stopped the former champion in the 13th round. Like most champions of the era, Napoles didn't sit on the title between title defenses and stayed sharp with several non-title fights, which he won by knockout. Mantequilla finished out 1969 with a unanimous fifteen round decision over former welterweight and middleweight champ Emile Griffith in his second defense of the title.
In 1970, Napoles KO'd number one rated Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez in fifteen rounds and scored two more knockouts in non-title matches. Napoles closed out 1970 with his fourth title defense in Syracuse, New York against Billy Backus, the nephew of former champ Carmen Basilio.
Backus was given little chance of beating Napoles. However, after opening a cut over the champion's eye with a head butt in the 4th round, the bout was stopped and awarded to Backus.
Six months later, on June 6, 1971, Napoles would regain his title by destroying Backus in six rounds at the Forum. I was 19-years-old at the time and had been fighting professionally for exactly one year. I was scheduled to fight on the undercard of the Napoles-Backus rematch and remember all the excitement in the dressing room after Napoles had regained the title. I had won my fight that night but the biggest thrill for me was not my win, but having Carmen Basilio compliment me after my fight. Basilio had worked his nephew's corner that night and was kind enough to recognize that I had done well in my fight.
My most vivid memory of Napoles took place six months later, as he trained for his next title defense against Hedgeman Lewis. This would be one of two championship fights at the Forum along with a World Bantamweight title fight between champion Ruben Olivares and Jesus Pimentel.
I was one of Ruben Olivares' sparring partners for the Pimentel fight and each day we would workout immediately following Napoles before a paying audience. Promoter George Parnassus had his office at the old Elks Building, located right off Wilshire Blvd. near Alvarado St. in downtown Los Angeles. Today the Elks Building is the Park Plaza Hotel and sits right across from Macarthur Park.
Parnassus had a gym set up in the ball room of the Elks Bldg. with a ring at one end of the room against the stage and a couple of heavy bags, a speed bag and double-end bag on the stage. People would pay $1 admission to watch the boxers train and we'd usually have several hundred spectators for each workout. I recall that former lightweight champion Lauro Salas, one of Parnassus' friends who'd fallen on hard times, would collect admission at the door and Parnassus would let Salas keep the money so as the former champ could pay his rent and feed himself. Parnassus was a legendary promoter and had a legendary soft spot in his heart for ex-boxers.
Boxers are some of the friendliest people you could meet but people don't realize that most boxers, regardless of how nice, have a mean streak. This was especially true of Jose Napoles.
One of Napoles chief sparring partners was an L.A. club fighter named Baby Cassius. Baby Cassius (Eric Thomas) knew this all too well after sparring with the champ. I remember talking with Baby Cassius in the dressing room following one of his sparring sessions with Napoles. Both of Eric's eyes were swollen and his nose was bloody. Cassius would moan, "All I wanna do is earn a little Christmas money, but this guy is killing me". He also told me that he knew Napoles was drinking because he could smell alcohol on the champion as they were sparring. I didn't feel sorry for Baby Cassius because he didn't receive any worse an ass whipping from Napoles than what I (or any sparring partner) receive when trying to punch it out with a great world champ. That's the business. However, one incident involving Napoles between rounds of a sparring session will always stick out in my mind.
Napoles had an assistant trainer in L.A. named Phil Silvers. I never cared much for Silvers personally and it was obvious that Napoles didn't either. Silvers job was to tie the champions gloves and give him water between rounds of sparring sessions. One day, after pouring some water into Napoles mouth between rounds of a sparring session, the champ spit the water back into Silver's face. He then smirked and turned around. Not even the wildest fans watching the workout made a noise. I remember how surprised I was to see this, and obviously, so was everybody else. "What a jerk", I thought.
A couple of days later I had a strange experience with Napoles myself. One day after he finished sparring, I was warming up for my sparring session with Olivares. I was punching one of the two heavy bags on the stage and had my eye on Napoles as his trainer helped him slip on his bag gloves. I wanted to see if Napoles was ready to hit the bag that I was warming up on and if he was I'd move to the other bag. Napoles was the champ and he could hit whatever bag he wanted to hit. It was his show, not mine. When I saw Napoles moving my way I assumed he wanted the bag I was punching and I respectfully moved to the other bag. Napoles started banging away at the bag and I began doing the same on the other bag.
As the next round started I saw Napoles approaching me out of the corner of my eye and he tapped me on the shoulder. When I looked at him he motioned for me to move away from the bag and pointed at the other bag. "No problem", I thought to myself, and moved to the other bag. As I'm punching the other bag I see Napoles heading toward me again and noticed a few of his friends smiling. It occurred to me that Napoles was either trying to play a joke on me, or intimidate me, or whatever. Napoles again tapped me on the shoulder and waved me off the bag. When Napoles began to hit the bag, I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the other bag, then stepped in front of him and began hitting the bag again. Napoles grabs my arm and I turn to face him.
In my mind, I had set myself up for an ass whipping by the welterweight champion of the world. However, a fighter does not let himself get pushed around by another fighter and I looked him directly in the eyes. We stood face-to-face for a few seconds that seemed like hours to me. Napoles had a very serious look on his face and I didn't know what was coming next. My trainer, Mel Epstein, saw what was going on and quickly stepped in. "C'mon Ricky, let's get ready for Olivares", he said, trying to pull me out of the situation. All of a sudden Napoles begins to smile and turns toward Epstein, motioning that it was Ok for me to continue working on the bag.
I will never know what Napoles was doing but I assume he was having fun trying to see how much I would take. One thing I did notice was that Napoles reeked of alcohol. I was surprised, despite having this told me earlier by Baby Cassius.
A couple of weeks later, Olivares stopped Jesus Pimentel in twelve rounds and Napoles won a very close fifteen round decision over the flashy Hedgeman Lewis. Lewis was a very flashy welterweight along the lines of a Sugar Ray Leonard, but not the class of Napoles. I realized that Napoles partying had affected his performance. three years later, Napoles and Lewis fight again and this time Mantequilla would ruin Hedge. Lewis was never the same after the beating he took from Napoles in this title fight.
The same was true with Ernie 'Indian Red" Lopez. Three years after losing to Napoles in his first bid for the welterweight crown, Lopez was given a second chance in 1973. After the beating Lopez took from Napoles in this fight he was never any good again. I remember talking with Lopez at the Main Street Gym in Los Angeles just a few days after his second fight with Napoles. I told Ernie I thought he gave Napoles a good fight and was shocked by Ernie's response. "I'll never fight that guy again . . . for any amount of money!" These aren't the kind of words that came out of the mouth of Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez.
At 34, Jose Napoles, a blown-up lightweight who had become one of the greatest welterweight champs in history, challenged another great fighter, Carlos Monzon for the undisputed Middleweight title. Napoles was stopped in seven rounds.
Napoles defended the welterweight title fifteen times and when he was the undisputed champ, something that no longer exists. His last two title defenses were against a friend of mine, Armando Muniz.
Like Lewis, Muniz caught Napoles out of shape in their first match and almost won the title. However, in the rematch held three months later in Mexico City, Napoles had his way with Muniz and scored a unanimous fifteen round decision win.
On December 6, 1975, after holding the welterweight title nearly eight years, Jose Napoles would make his last defense of the title at age 35. Englishman John Stracey would stop Napoles in his hometown of Mexico City.
After the fight, Napoles would announce his retirement from boxing after spending more than half his life in the professional boxing ring.
When thinking about the great welterweights in boxing, don't forget the guy they called 'Mantequilla". He was a true all-time great.
That is a fascinating up close and personal look at Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles, I had no idea that he reeked of booze when he sparred and had a mean streak in him. He was all business when it came time to fight though, he was very artful with his violence, he could cut you to ribbons and do it very gracefully and scientific.
Jose Napoles is a prime example of why this sport is called the sweet science. Had one heck of a run as welterweight king.
Jose Napoles was born in Santiago de Cuba, Oriente, Cuba and fled Fidel Castro's Communist regime in 1962 and settled in Mexico City. In two reigns as welterweight champion, which encompass nearly seven years, Napoles made 13 successful title defenses.
It's all but forgotten that Napoles was also one of the top lightweights and junior welterweights of the 1960s. But despite an 8-1 record against rated fighters, and he avenged his lone defeat via TKO 1, he was unable to secure a title shot. Among the contenders he beat were: Alfredo Urbina (L 10, TKO 1, KO 3), Carlos Hernandez (TKO 7), Eddie Perkins (W 10) and Johnny Santos (KO 3).
In 1967, he moved up to welterweight and earned a title fight against champion Curtis Cokes. Although his nickname was "Mantequilla" (Butter), referring to his smooth boxing style, his victims would probably suggest something more brutal. At the Inglewood Forum on April 18, 1969, Napoles gave Cokes a thorough beating. He cut the American inside his mouth, blooding his nose and swelling both eyes before the referee stopped the contest in the 13th round. His dominance of Cokes was justification of the decision by the managers of the champions at 135- and 140 pounds who chose to avoid the Napoles.
Napoles easily handled Cokes in the rematch (TKO 10) and then beat future Hall of Famer Emile Griffin (W15) and Ernie (Indian Red) Lopez (TKO 15). He appeared unstoppable. But in his fourth defense, against Billy Backus in December of 1970, Napoles sustained a bad cut over his eye and the bout was stopped in the fourth round and Backus was declared champion. When they met in a rematch seven months later, Napoles regained the title with a fourth-round stoppage of his own.
Napoles immediately put together an impressive streak of title defenses. He scored wins over Hedgemon Lewis, Adolph Pruitt, Ernie Lopez and Clyde Gray. In 1974, he moved up in weight to challenge middleweight champion Carlos Monzon but was stopped in the seventh round.
Napoles returned to the welterweight division and retained his title against Lewis, Horacio Saldano and Armando Muniz (twice) before losing it to John H. Stracey in 1975. He retired after that fight. The only blip during his reign – which included 13 successful defenses – was a loss to Billy Backus on cuts that he avenged two fights later. Napoles greatest failure was his ill-fated attempt to wrest the middleweight title from all-time great Carlos Monzon in 1974 but he should be applauded for thinking big. When he was finished, he had gone 15-2 in world title fights and was 4-1 against fellow Hall of Famers. Greatness.
Quote: “What a magnificent fighter he was and what a great champion. Look how long he reigned as a champion. This is such a sad day,” Stracey said upon Napoles’ death in August of 2019.
One of the things I can never forget about the great Jose Napoles is that photo of him holding Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez after he knocked him out, Napoles had great compassion for his opponents. The photo is from Jose Napoles' fight with Ernie Lopez in 1973. The punch that knocked out Lopez down was a effortless looking right uppercut in round 7, the punch not only knocked him out, but fractured his eye socket.
A few other things about Jose Naples, I love that article by the fellow that shared a gym with Napoles, Napoles was never shy about reminding everyone who was boss, and had a bit of a nasty streak in him when he felt like it, a lot of fighters do, it's the nature of this sport. Napoles did battle a booze addiction but overcame it later in life. Jose Naples is a fascinating fighter to watch, a slick ring tactician but also a lethal puncher. Here's a great write up from a guy who's grandfather actually fought Napoles in the amateurs.
Although it has lacked the same quantity of big names produced by the likes of Mexico and Puerto Rico (for obvious reasons, which we’ll soon get to), Cuba has still produced its fair share of all-time great fighters. But while the likes of Kid Gavilan, Nino Valdes and, most prominently, Kid Chocolate are all revered, one great champion they produced has often fallen under the radar – Jose Napoles.
Let’s get the obvious out of the way – Napoles is considered Mexican as much as he is Cuban, as after Castro banned professional boxing in Cuba in 1961, Napoles travelled to Mexico to rebuild his career, ended up fighting under the flag of both nations and became something of a sporting icon in his new, adopted homeland in the sixties and seventies. So his lack of recognition in Cuba is understandable, I suppose. But while he was revered in Mexico during his career, over the decades since his popularity has waned, and he is rarely as fondly remembered now as are the likes of Ruben Olivares and Carlos Zarate, with whom his career just about overlapped.
It’s a shame, as Napoles’ record stands comparison with just about any boxer produced by either country. I have to confess that my opinion towards Napoles has also been favourable from an early age, as my step Granddad (an ABA Welterweight champion and 1964 Olympian) often spoke about how good Napoles was; when I asked my step Granddad who the best fighter he ever fought in the amateurs was, he answered without any hesitation “Mantequilla."
The nickname of ‘Mantequilla’ (meaning butter, as he was said to be as smooth as butter) fitted Napoles perfectly. He was, as Gilbert Odd wrote after observing him from ringside, a “thoughtful tactician, but also a venomous puncher.” But strangely enough, it could be that his measured approach to boxing is one of the reasons that his career is not as celebrated as the likes of the aforementioned Olivares and Zarate, or Julio Cesar Chavez, for that matter. Working behind a jab, circling the ring and picking out openings before utilising his short hooks and whipping uppercut, Napoles was not your ‘typical’ Mexican fighter. Some say that while his record is comparable, Juan Manuel Marquez will never be held in the same esteem as his more exciting compatriots such as Marco Antonio Barrera or Erik Morales, and I feel a similar case can be made for Napoles.
Most do realise that Napoles was a great Welterweight, one of the very best. However, what is sometimes forgotten is that he was, arguably, an even better Lightweight and / or Light-Welterweight. His closest followers maintain that Naples was at his best between 135 lb and 140 lb in the early to mid sixties, and the fact that he was beating quality opposition such as LC Morgan, Carlos Hernandez and Eddie Perkins in this period would seem to lend credence to that. Carlos Ortiz (who I also think was a true all-time great) refused to face him during his tenure as Lightweight champion, and 140 lb champions such as the aforementioned Hernandez and Eddie Perkins, both of whom Napoles beat in non-title matches, were also wise enough to not risk taking a title bout against Napoles.
Essentially then, Napoles was a natural Lightweight or Light-Welterweight who had simply been forced up to 147 lb by the time he won the Welterweight title from Curtis Cokes in 1969. In addition to this, he was already pushing thirty. However, this didn’t stop him from defending the title a total of thirteen times across two reigns, which were only separated after Billy Backus stopped him on cuts in 1970 – a loss which Napoles had avenged within six months. Other victims of Napoles during his title reign included the wonderful Emile Griffith and also Hedgemon Lewis, who at one time held the NYSAC version of the crown before Napoles unified), and there was not a single worthwhile contender that Napoles failed to accommodate. I do believe that in Britain, Napoles has struggled to garner the recognition due to him thanks to our own John H Stracey dethroning him in his final fight. A great performance by Stracey, but at the same time an unfair measuring stick for how good ‘Mantequilla’ (who by then was thirty-five) really was.
Likewise, the rout he suffered at the hands of Monzon in his bid for the Middleweight title in 1974 is often used as a way of dismissing Napoles as a ‘good, but not great’ fighter, but again this is unfair. Those who are guilty of this are usually not aware of how far down the weight scale Napoles began his career, and that, as previously explained, he was only operating anywhere above 140 lb due to being frozen out by the champions at lower weights.
To summarise, a wonderful fighter who ducked nobody, would absolutely dominate the 140 lb or 147 lb scene today and who deserves to revered as one of the very best Hispanic fighters of them all.
Jose Napoles really symbolizes what the sweet science is all about, he could do it all, he could box your ears off and look damn good doing it, or he could simply take you out with one shot, and Napoles was basically unbeatable in his prime. John Stracey was traveling into the lions den to fight the great Napoles on his turf, it would be the end of the line for one of the best ever.
John Stracey vs Jose Napoles in Mexico City
John H. Stracey Shocks Jose Napoles By James Slater - 12/05/2020
Exactly 45 years ago today, a British fighter scored one of the finest away wins in the history of the sport. London’s John H. Stracey travelled to Mexico City to challenge defending WBC welterweight ruler Jose Napoles. Overcoming tremendous odds, Stracey, aged 25 and sporting a 42-3-1 record, managed to stop the classy Cuban who had relocated to Mexico a number of years before and was a genuine hero to millions there. The fight took place in the afternoon, inside a bullring, with a hugely hostile crowd of over 40,000 literally baying for Stracey’s blood. Napoles, known as “Mantequilla,” because he was “smooth as butter,” was getting on in years at age 35 (some say he was a couple of years older) but he had won 16 of his last seventeen fights (the loss coming against world middleweight king Carlos Monzon in February of 1974) and against Stracey, he was making the eleventh defence of his second reign as welterweight champion. Napoles’ record was an amazing 81-6 and he had beaten great fighters such as Emile Griffith, Curtis Cokes and Hedgemon Lewis during his 17-year pro career. The fight was almost an instant disaster for the Terry Lawless-guided challenger, as a Napoles left hook sent Stracey down in the very first round. Hurt and under fire for the remainder of the round, the visiting fighter had to dig deep to survive the opening three minutes. But Stracey was a massively determined fighter and he saw out the session, and came back to score a knockdown of his own in the 3rd-round when a left hand forced Napoles to briefly touch down. The massive pro-Napoles crowd couldn’t believe it, and they showered the ring with debris; mostly consisting of seat cushions. Napoles was soon badly marked up, swollen and tired, a testament to the punching power and strength of Stracey. And then, in the sixth round, Napoles’ team – which consisted of the legendary Angelo Dundee – saw the referee dive in and call a halt to the now one-sided fight. Napoles took quite a hammering on the ropes in the 6th-round and a relentless Stracey simply would not be denied. Napoles would never fight again. Stracey would return to England a hero and go on to retain his crown the following March. Back in the summer of 2013, Stracey took time out to recall his great win over Napoles, and the subsequent fights of his career, with this writer: “The win over Jose Napoles was the best night of my career; that win over Napoles in 1975, which was actually in the late afternoon (laughs), is an obvious choice,” Stracey said. “That fight is still very vivid in the mind, especially the 1st-round knockdown. I can still think back and take it all in. Not too many people gave me a chance to win, and to beat Napoles, especially in his own city of Mexico, was special. I was lucky to have fought one of the all-time greats; who had been there, done everything and had the T-shirt. Napoles was a great boxer, one of the very best in history without a shadow of a doubt.” Despite losing his title after just one successful defence, Stracey’s name is secure in the history books as a British fighter who scored one of the biggest upsets in the welterweight history.
I want to talk about Ernie "Indian Red" Lopez for a second, Here's the write up on the second Jose Napoles vs Ernie Lopez fight, the fight that produced one of the most famous photos in boxing history, the photo of Jose Napoles cradling Ernie Lopez after knocking him out. Ernie Lopez was the brother of the featherweight champion and murderous puncher Danny "Little Red" Lopez. The Napoles knockout left Ernie Lopez devastated, he was never the same again after it. In 2004 after being induced into the California boxing hall of fame, no one could find Ernie Lopez and a private investigator wound up finally locating him in a Texas homeless shelter, he had disappeared in 1993 and no one in his family had seen him for 11 years. So the investigator brought Ernie back to California for his induction into the hall of fame. It is a sad ending because Ernie was one heck of a fighter and warrior. The two losses to Jose Napoles had really devastated Ernie, he identified himself so much as a fighter and it just ruined him. I don't think people realize what it means to climb those steps as a boxer, this sport is brutal and it takes so much to make it.
Feb. 28, 1973: Napoles vs Lopez II
They call boxing the cruelest sport for a number of reasons, one of them being that no matter how talented or dedicated a boxer is, his success ultimately depends on whether he has the good luck to avoid his superior. There are as many examples of this as there are capable fighters who compete at the elite level of their difficult profession; in other words, countless.
To cite just a few: Lew Tendler was a vastly talented southpaw who more than held his own in perhaps the best lightweight division in history, but the man between him and a world title was the even more talented Benny Leonard. “Bad” Bennie Briscoe is considered one of the best ever at 160 pounds, but it was his misfortune to strive for the top of the middleweight mountain at the same time as Rodrigo Valdes, Emile Griffith, Carlos Monzon and Marvelous Marvin Hagler. Ken Norton might have reached the heavyweight pinnacle, but Muhammad Ali, George Foreman and Larry Holmes all got in the way.
Similarly, Ernie “Indian Red” Lopez had the stuff to be a world champ, but there was just one major problem; its name was José Napoles.
José Ángel Nápoles
Any serious discussion of the truly great welterweight champions must include the legendary “Mantequilla,” as gifted a pugilist as boxing has ever seen. His nickname means “butter” in Spanish and this referred to the smoothness of his moves and his relaxed demeanour in the ring, but the moniker belies the fact Napoles possessed crushing power and ruthless finishing instincts.
Napoles learned his trade and began his career in Cuba, but he was forced to flee his native country when the Castro regime banned professional boxing. He settled in Mexico where the locals adopted him as one of their own. Through the 1960’s he campaigned as a lightweight and junior-welter, but his skills and power were such he had to move up to welterweight to get fights. He finally received a title shot in 1969 and would go on to win fourteen championship bouts before losses to Carlos Monzon and John Stracey prompted him to retire.
Ernie Lopez, along with fellow gifted contenders Hedgemon Lewis and Armando Muñíz, all tried and failed to dethrone Napoles. The three also shared the experience of giving Napoles tough battles the first time around, before being dominated in the subsequent rematch. (However, it must be noted that the first meeting between Muniz and Napoles was not merely a highly competitive fight. In that instance, Napoles was shamelessly defended by the referee who, instead of granting Muniz the TKO victory he deserved, blamed Napoles’ cuts on headbutts and awarded the fight to the champion.)
Napoles vs Lopez
Lopez and Napoles first met in February of 1970. “Mantequilla” clearly won, scoring three knockdowns and forcing a stoppage in the final round, but Lopez gave a decent account of himself against a dominant champion. In the months that followed he stayed active and maintained his position as one of the top contenders, a rematch scheduled two years later. However, few gave Lopez a serious chance of reversing the outcome of their first bout. While he had hung tough with Napoles for almost fifteen full rounds, the deciding difference between the two men was obvious: raw power.
Ernie Lopez catches Jose Napoles with a right hook
Napoles vs Lopez II was highly competitive over the first four rounds. Lopez boxed carefully, keeping his hands up and using his jab to good effect, opening up cuts in the second and third. Keeping the fight in the center of the ring, the challenger worked to maintain distance while landing solid right hands to Napoles’ body. In the fifth the action intensified with the Cuban exile getting in some solid counter left hooks. Lopez struck with a big right hand to the chin, but the punch only prompted Napoles to pick up the pace. He hurt Lopez with a pair of thunderous hooks and the battlers traded toe-to-toe until the end of the round.
In round six Lopez tried to reassert himself, but the patient Napoles slipped most of Ernie’s punches and started finding openings for his counter left again. Lopez fought gamely but simply lacked the power to gain the champion’s respect and a sharp hook put him on the defensive at the end of the round.
Napoles moved in for the kill in the seventh. Pressuring his opponent, he forced Lopez to trade, thus creating the opening he wanted for the left. The challenger tried to get home the big shot that would stop Napoles in his tracks, but instead a pair of crunching hooks hurt him badly. Backing his wounded quarry up, Napoles feinted another hook and then, in as vicious a knockout as you’ll ever see, countered Lopez’s right with a perfectly timed uppercut that put Lopez flat on his back. The challenger writhed in agony on the canvas as he was counted out and then stayed down for several minutes. At one point a concerned Napoles knelt near his fallen foe and cradled him saying, “Please wake up, please wake up.”
“I never saw power like that,” said the challenger’s veteran manager, Howie Steindler.
Lopez would not recover from the defeat. Following the bout he declared: “I’ll never fight that guy again . . . for any amount of money!” He lost to Muniz and Stracey before retiring, and not long after his marriage fell apart. Heartbroken, he abandoned his family and disappeared, living the life of a wanderer for over a decade before a private investigator found him in a homeless shelter in Texas. He died in 2009 from complications of dementia. He was 64.
A concerned Napoles cradles Lopez after the knockout.
“It was the losses to Napoles and the divorce that sent Ernie into a tailspin,” stated his brother, Danny Lopez, the former featherweight champion. “He was a hurt man.”
Some great photos of the legendary Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles.