Sean O'Grady vs Shig Fukuyama, 1978. Chewing the bubblegum and popping a bubble as the rules are explained at center ring, fighting through the blood, love O'Grady.
Miguel Cotto retained his WBA welterweight title at the Roberto Clemente Coliseum on this day in 2007 when 37-year-old challenger Oktay Urkal’s corner threw in the towel during the 11th round.
Cotto was well ahead on all the judges’ scorecards when the German challenger’s corner waved off the bout after the referee deducted a point from Urkal for head-butting. Urkal had already been penalized in the seventh round for the same offence.
“The blood helped him to survive,” Cotto, 26, said in a televised interview after the bout, referring to the gash over his eye. “The blood bothered me in the fight.”
Urkal’s trainer, Uli Wegner, said through an interpreter: “He was throwing punches that shouldn’t be allowed. Oktay was red and blue in the back.”
Heavyweight Lennox Lewis stood 6'5" tall throughout his professional boxing career and weighed between 235 and 256 pounds, one of the largest heavyweights ever and he had some of the biggest and scariest fists in boxing history. This is a bronze display comparing his fists to other boxing greats Ruben Olivares, Donald Curry, Tony Zale, Roberto Duran, and Willie Pep.
Next up, Bobby "Schoolboy" Chacon. I'm a bit hesitant to write about Chacon, my God he's such a legend, I can't possibly begin to explain what this man meant to boxing. You hear the word "heart" thrown around a lot in boxing, but let me tell you, Bobby Chacon was the definition of heart.
The Apparition That Was Bobby Chacon
May 29, 2006 – By: Ted Sares:
Sometimes I have the hubris to think I can write and on certain topics I sometimes seem do a reasonably fair job, that is, unless my friends and readers are patronizing me. But when it comes to my life’s true love, boxing, I seem to have all kinds of problems expressing myself. I hope that’s not the case here, for this essay is just too special and too spiritual for that to happen. It’s about Bobby Chacon and if anyone deserves special treatment, it’s Bobby. Bobby “Schoolboy” Chacon was inducted into the Boxing Hall of Fame last year and that made me extremely happy. You see, Bobby was my favorite fighter, and since I have watched literally thousands of fights during my 68 years of life and consider myself something of an aficionado, I hope that accolade carries at least a modicum of weight. Hell, I have seen them all; the “bums of a month,” the excitement that was Bob Satterfield, the fights between Charles, Louis and Walcott. LaMotta-Robinson, Ward-Gatti, Ward-Green, Ward-Augustus, Zale-Graziano, Correlas-Castillo, Ali-Frazier, Patterson-Johansson, Barrera-Morales. I saw Sugar Ray send Dave Boy Green into dreamland with the perfect left hook……and witnessed the illogic of Hearns putting Duran away with a lethal straight right, and then Duran brutalize Barkley and then Barkley knock out Hearns. I watched Leotis Martin starch Sonny Liston. Bruce Curry and Monroe Brooks go to the precipice, and Kid Paret, Laverne Roach, Duk Koo Kim, Johnny Owens and Leavander Johnson leave everything in the ring. I witnessed the mind numbing suddenness of the Mesa-Garza fight and the shoot outs between Moorer-Cooper and Lyle-Foreman. The slow slide of Jerry Quarry and too many others. I can sense the early signs……the slurring……the nasal monotone. I saw the epiphany of Foreman. The disappointment that was Tyson. I have been dazzled by the magic, heard the music and seen the dance. I pray for Michael Watson, Gerald McClellan and Greg Page and remember the courage of Robert Wangila, Pedro Alcazar, and Beethoven Scottland. I have seen very good things, some not so good, and some downright ugly, but nothing comes close to what I saw and felt during a period between 1978 and 1982 involving three warriors by the names of Chacon, Limon and Boza-Edwards. Bobby Chacon was born on November 28, 1951 in Sylmar, CA. He was a tough kid of Mexican-American descent and soon found himself in the gym. He became an amateur Diamond belt champion and fought in National Golden Glove Tournaments in both 1971 and 1972. He turned pro in Los Angeles in 1972 while attending California State University at Northridge thereby acquiring the nickname “Schoolboy.” With a fearless, savage and widely exciting style, he became an immediate fan favorite. While the word “brawler” might best describe him, he was also a crafty slugger who could slip punches off the ropes. Though short, he had a deceptively long reach advantage. He was often willing to absorb heavy punishment in order to mete it out and this likely contributed to his later difficulties. He knocked out 23 of his first 25 opponents, including a TKO over Chucho Castillo and an electrifying, career enhancing 9th round TKO victory over future Hall of Famer Danny “Little Red” Lopez. His only loss at that point was a 9th round stoppage to the very tough Ruben Olivares in 1973. The next year, he stopped Alfredo Marcano in 9 rounds to capture the WBC featherweight crown. He defended successfully against Jesus Estrada but lost the title to rival Olivares in 1975 (whom he finally beat by decision in their third match in 1977). But the genesis for this story started in 1975 when he took on Rafael “Bazooka”Limon in Mexacali, Mexico. Bobby lost a ten round decision, but it began a four-bout rivalry that compares with the very best in boxing history. Neither boxer liked the other and the word “grudge” was frequently mentioned. The two would fight to a technical draw in 1979. Chacon then stepped up in class and lost to the great Alexis Arguello by knock out in the seventh round. Then, in what would become still another great rivalry, he lost in dramatic fashion by knockout to Ugandan Cornelius Boza-Edwards in the 14th round. Bobby could not come out for the 14th round, His left eye was almost closed and his nose hideously cut. This loss was considered by many as Bobby’s swan song, and he was encouraged to take a hard look at getting out, but he would have none of that. He pulled himself up, put together a string of wins, and began making his way up the rankings again. But during this time, that other story that others so often write about…..the personal and self-destructive side of Bobby’s life…..was in upheaval. But unlike others, I will not deal with that, for I truly believe it diminishes that side of Bobby Chacon who was the fighter. Suffice to say his personal life was pure and real tragedy, and I just don’t have the inclination (nor perhaps the literary skills) to give it its melodramtic due. If Bobby was no angel in his personal life, he certainly was a lion in the ring and that’s where my focus and recollections remain. Now then, after his loss to Boza-Edwards, his fourth and final bout with Limon was scheduled and fought. According to Ring and KO Magazines and the Ring En Espanol, the fourth Chacon-Limon fight became one of the fights of the year and the decade. First one would get rocked; then the other. Both would be floored. Bobby, was cut, bleeding profusely, pummeled, and ready to go only to come back score his own knockdown. Chacon got up bleeding after knockdowns suffered in rounds 3 and 10 to drop Limon in the closing seconds of round 15, and cinch a close but undisputed decision. Surely, had Limon not gone down, Bobby would not have won. I lived in Boston at the time and recall leaping up from my chair, spilling beer and food all over the place and on my friends and screaming unabashedly at the top of my voice, “Get him Bobby, get him, knock him out.” And get him he did. The scoring was: Judge Angel L. Guzman 142-141, Judge Carlos Padilla 143-141 and Judge Tamotsu Tomihara 141-140. This was the fight that turned me from dedicated boxing fan to full fledged addict and I make no apologies for that. This fight, the essence of which was toe to toe, ebb and flow, back and forth action, was breathtaking and I mean that quite lietrally. It was as close as two fearless men can get to death, to the edge, if you will, and still survive. Limon actually had a strange smile on his face as he was knocked down for the last time and was getting up; I swear on a stack of bibles that he smiled at the crowd. It was almost mystical, surreal, whatever label you could put on it. All I know is I will never forget the 15th round of that fight. “I broke down after the Limon fight,” he says. “I didn’t like that guy to begin with and with everything that happened……I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat………” Incredibly, Bobby would then go on to defend against Boza-Edwards at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas and retain his crown in still another “fight of the year” that had me up and screaming once again. Trading vicious hooks throughout, this one almost equaled the Limon fight for its ebb and flow action and pure savagery. Ring Magazine called this one 1983’s fight of the year, the second consecutive one involving Bobby. Once again Chacon rose from a knockdown (this time in the first round) and, despite a deep and dangerous cut, dropped Boza Edwards in round twelve as the crowd roared approval and as Bobby avenged his earlier defeat and retain his WBC junior-lightweight crown. One fight was unreal, but my God, another? How much could you take? Like the Limon fight, the unanimous decision he won against Boza-Edwards was surreal in its spectacularity……but unfortunately that would be the last of Bobby’s ring glory. Stripped of his title in June 1983 for refusing to fight Hector Camacho in his home country of Puerto Rico, Chacon then attempted to win a third world title, but was stopped by lightweight champion Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini in 3 one-sided rounds in 1984 (and as boxing fortune would have it, Greg Haugen would do the same to Mancini in 1992 and then he, himself, woud have the favor returned by Thomas Damgaard in 03). I last saw Bobby fight in 1985 when he exposed and brutalized up-and-coming Davey Montana in Reno. He won seven consecutive fights against solid competition, including Freddie Roach and Arturo Frias, to close out his career in 1988 with a 59-7-1 (47 KOs) record and a legacy as one of boxing’s most exciting and popular fighters. But his personal life would once again be marred by tragedy when his son was murdered in 1991. Later, Bobby was spotted at a public appearance in 1996 to see the Pay Per View fight between De La Hoya and Chavez. By 2000 he had lost all of his material possessions including his mansion, farm and numerous cars. But far more tragically, he was now, by all accounts, suffering from pugistica demenetia, a condition that sometimes occurs among ex-fighters who take too many blows to the head. Bobby’s speech is slurred and thick-tongued, his memory poor and he is now unsteady on his feet. In 2002, USA Today ran a story detaiing his residence in a Los Angeles transient way station, where local non-profit groups buy rooms for the homeless. He was 47 and living on a social security disability pension, and has been seen looking for aluminium cans on the streets and in junk yards to help support himself. I don’t know exactly where he is today, maybe living with his mother. He apparently was seen with Mike Weaver and a group of other former California boxers in 2005 at an autograph signing event in Los Angeles, but I’m not sure I really want to know much more than that. The memories I want are the breathtaking ones of those late afternoons in my den Boston when I watched his life and death struggles with Bazooka Limon and Conrelius Boza-Edwards, struggles in which he stood alone in the middle of the ring more as an apparition than as a boxer and seem to say “come on, let’s make this special, I’m willing to pay the price.” There stood a warrior resolute and unbowed, there stood a fighter. Quite simply, Bobby Chacon had the greatest fighting hearts of any boxer I have ever seen. Win or lose, he would give it everything he had. And wherever he is, I know he will wearing his trademark ingratiating smile as he did when he was inducted into the Hall last year. “As much as I love boxing, I hate it. And as much as I hate it, I love it.”
You know, much like the author of the above article, I often struggle to put my thoughts and feelings into words. I'm not a good writer, I wish I was but the fact is I'm just not. I can't really describe what I want to say about Bobby Chacon. His ability to take punishment and dig deep was insane. His fights were action movies, they kept you on the edge of your seat. He fought wars in the ring, he probably shouldn't have walked away alive after a few of them, they were that hellacious and brutal. They should honestly put a statue of him outside the ancient Colosseum in Rome because he was a gladiator in every sense. This is an article written about his second fight with Cornelius Boza-Edwards, an apocalyptic encounter that saw Chacon absorb ungodly amounts of punishment, fight through pure unadulterated hell, and win. This fight was total, all-out war. Gosh, Boza-Edwards is one of my favorite fighters as well, such a warrior.
On This Day: Bobby Chacon’s Last Great Fight
By: James Slater - 05/15/2023 -
40 years ago today, astonishing ring warrior Bobby Chacon, a blood and guts warrior of the highest order, a man who was seemingly never in a boring fight, gave us his final great one. Facing fellow tough guy, Cornelius Boza Edwards in a return of their May 1981 war, this one won by Boza when Chacon was unable to come out for round 14, Chacon once again dup unimaginably deep in the search of victory. The fight of May 15, 1983, proved to be Ring Magazine’s Fight of The Year. It could have been the best fight of the decade. Chacon and Edwards swapped an almighty amount of leather, they traded knockdowns, they tested one another’s heart in a purely hellish manner, and Chacon bled profusely from both eyes as well as from the nose. Finally, after a slippery canvas (slippery due to a combination of the blood and water that splashed the mat), after pleas from commentator Fredie Pacheco to stop the fight, so badly busted up was Chacon, so much punishment he was taking in the eyes of “The Fight Doctor,” Chacon had, courtesy of a late rounds rally, won the fight. Surprisingly, it was a unanimous decision for “Schoolboy.” This would have been a fine way for 31 year old Chacon to walk away. Chacon had evened the score with Edwards, and he still had his health. But Chacon was never going to retire. Fighting was his life. Sadly, as a result of the many wars he fought in, Chacon was not left with much of a life during his final years. Chacon had a hard life, both in and out of the ring. Facing the elite featherweights, Chacon, nicknamed “Schoolboy” due to his youthful looks and the fact that he did attend university for a while, soon found out he was a born fighter. Chacon went pro in January of 1972 and he was soon a major fan attraction. At just 22, Chacon was 19-0, with a win over Chucho Castillo to his name, when he was matched with the great Ruben Olivares. Olivares knew too much for Chacon, getting a 9th round retirement win. But Chacon hadn’t even got going yet. Chacon roared back and he defeated Danny Lopez by stoppage and then, in September of 1974, Chacon stopped Alfredo Marcano to win the WBC featherweight title. A huge attraction in California, Chacon had many admirers. His reign was short, with Bobby being stopped by Olivares in a return, this in his second title defence. This time, Olivares got a quick win, in just a couple of rounds. But then, on December 7th, 1975, Chacon met the man who would become his most famous rival. Rafael “Bazooka” Limon won a decision over Chacon in the first of four savage fights. After losing to Bazooka in Mexico, Chacon set his sights on becoming a two-weight champ. During this time, in a third go, Chacon was finally able to beat Olivares, this by decision in a non-title fight in August of 1977. A return with Lamon, for the NABF 130 pound strap, ended as a TD as Lamon suffered a bad cut. These two rivals had two super fights ahead of them. A failed challenge of the great Alexis Arguello, where a bloodied Chacon was stopped in seven rounds, was followed by a third war with Limon. This time, in March of 1980, Chacon walked away with a split decision win. Then, after a punishing loss to the big and strong Cornelius Boza Edwards, Chacon enjoyed a great spell, where he won seven fights on the spin. But during this spell, Bobby’s wife, who had urged her husband to retire, so tough was it for her to see him take the punches he so often, even willingly took, could stand no more. Valorie Chacon took her own life by shooting herself. Chacon was devastated yet he used the inner rage and grief to fight even harder. The fourth and final battle between Chacon and Limon, which was waged in December of 1982, produced one of the greatest, most astonishingly violent, brutal and thrilling fights of all-time. Chacon took immense amounts of punishment from the rock-fisted Limon and the fight proved to be another truly special one from Chacon, who was now the WBC super-featherweight champ. And then, Chacon avenged his loss to Boza Edwards, getting the unanimous decision 40 years ago this very day, this one, as described above, yet another almost unbelievable shoot-out. Chacon had been stripped for not facing Hector Camacho, but none of his fans cared too much. Chacon had again pushed himself to the extreme, in so doing giving his sport another blistering classic. This was the last great fight for Chacon. It should have been the end. Chacon, like so many before him as well as after him, fought on for far too long. Beaten up by Ray Mancini in a lightweight title challenge, Chacon was a faded warrior, yet he could not quit. Finally, in 1988, after having spilt so much blood and having left so much of himself in the ring, Chacon retired with a 59-7-1(47) record. Sadly, his money disappearing as rapidly as his health and his memories, Chacon cut a tragic figure in his final years. However, Bobby Chacon may well have been the single most exciting fighter who ever lived. His fight from 40 years ago is almost too violent, too brutal to appreciate. A fan could even find him or herself feeling guilty at enjoying the carnage taking place in the ring. The saying ‘they gave too much’ applies to Bobby Chacon, maybe in the Boza Edwards rematch more than in any of his other fights.
These are the highlights from Bobby Chacon-Cornelius Boza-Edwards II. Listen to the announcer say, "What is keeping little Bobby Chacon together? I don't know." That one sentence pretty much sums up Bobby Chacon, the guy was able to take ridiculous punishment and keep fighting, at times it was almost as he "got off" on taking punishment. His ability to dig deep was uncanny, I don't know where he got it from, perhaps a place deep within the inner depths of his heart and soul, a place not visible to any of us, a place only he knew. This fight was the kind of fight that takes years off a fighters career and even his life, it was that brutal.
Awesome shot of Chacon catching Boza-Edwards with a brutal right cross that distorts Edwards' face. This photo was featured on the cover of the famous British publication "Boxing News" after the fight.
Bobby Chacon vs Rafael "Bazooka" Limon IV. I struggle to choose which fight was better, Chacon-Boza Edwards II or this one right here, regardless, they are probably the two greatest fights in boxing history. Just back-and-forth all-out violence. Not a dull second in either fight, total civil war. This fight had a tragic backdrop to it, Bobby Chacon's wife Valerie killed herself before the fight because she couldn't stand to see Bobby taking so much punishment in the sport, it reminds me a lot of the Rocky films, when Adrian can't take the sight of seeing Rocky getting hurt during his fights. Boxing isn't a game, fighters and their families have paid a dear price for this sport.
The Fight City
Boxiana
Dec. 11, 1982: Chacon vs Limon IV - The Triumph and Tragedy
By: Michael Carbert
They called him “The Schoolboy,” because he had once attended university, a rare thing among professional prizefighters. But make no mistake, despite the nickname and the ever-present boyish smile, Bobby Chacon was as tough and as game as they come. And this was fortunate because it would require uncommon toughness and a genuine passion for struggle and combat to endure the pain of Bobby Chacon’s life.
Bobby’s love for one woman, his high school sweetheart Valorie Ginn, and her love for him, defined that life. They met in 1968, when Chacon was still a junior at San Fernando High. “I was having a party, and I asked her if she wanted to go,” recalled Chacon years later. “We were never really apart after that.”
Bobby had a reputation for being an exceptional street fighter and Valorie encouraged him to try boxing. They would watch the fights on TV and it was Valorie who said, “You can do that.” She even paid for his first boxing license. By 1971 they were married and the next year Chacon turned pro.
The career of Bobby Chacon was a roller coaster, amazing highs followed by agonizing lows. He tore up the featherweight ranks, knocking off one contender after another and quickly became a sensation in the Southern California boxing scene. Then they matched him up with Ruben Olivares and “El Púas” and his deadly left hook taught “The Schoolboy” a harsh lesson, Chacon’s corner stopping the fight after nine violent rounds. But the following year Bobby won his first world title, which he successfully defended once before losing, again to Olivares. And so it went. Chacon would put together a string of wins only to lose to Olivares. Or Alexis Arguello. Or his arch-nemesis, Mexico’s Rafael “Bazooka” Limon.
Bobby and Valorie.
But even the wins could be painful. In 1976, Chacon earned a ten round decision over a Mexican club-fighter with 14 losses on his record named David Sotelo. Floored twice and nearly knocked out, Chacon was fortunate to exit the winner. In his dressing room afterwards, as the doctor worked to stitch up Bobby’s face, his high-school sweetheart and the mother of his children begged him through tears to retire.
Valorie had helped get Chacon into boxing but now she couldn’t get him out, and the guilt and the fear were taking their toll. By this time they had three children and she wanted the family to move to Hawaii for a fresh start. But Bobby had been a champion for a short while, had had a taste of what it was like to get to the top of that mountain. He needed to taste it again.
Bobby going down to the great Olivares.
In March of 1980, Chacon and the southpaw Limon locked up for a third time and, like their first two clashes, this was another vicious brawl. Restless and worried and wanting to avoid even thinking about the fight, Valorie decided to spend the evening with friends in a local bar but she hadn’t counted on the late-night TV newscast. “First the loser,” boomed the television and “Bazooka” Limon’s relatively unmarked face appeared. “And now, believe it or not, the winner!” And there was Bobby with cuts above both eyes and dark welts under.
“I can’t take it anymore,” she told him that night. “Please, you have to stop.”
But Bobby didn’t. And now neither did the arguments, the constant bickering and pleading, the promises and the bargaining. Chacon would say all the right things to placate Valorie, but then he’d be gone and in training for another match. He was in his mid-20s and for him, the die was cast: he was a fighter. He got another title shot, lost another tough battle, but felt more certain than ever he could do it, that if he just kept working and fighting, he would make it to the top again.
Chacon and Limon battle in their third meeting.
But by February of 1982 Valorie had reached the breaking point. The family lived in Palermo now and Bobby was in Sacramento for his next bout when Valorie told the kids she was taking a nap. In the bedroom she swallowed a handful of sleeping pills but they found her in time and got her to the hospital. Bobby won that night and Valorie soon recovered, but then she disappeared for a month. The stress and fear were too much; she was cracking up. They found her wandering around the airport in Sacramento talking to strangers about guns.
Just a few days later Chacon left home for his next bout, another shot at a championship on the horizon if he kept winning. He and Valorie argued on the phone and then the next day came the call, not from Valorie, but from her mother. Valorie was gone. After kissing the framed pictures of her sleeping children, she went into her bedroom with the .22 rifle they kept in the house for protection, put the barrel to her head and pulled the trigger. That night Chacon drove back to Palermo to help his family make funeral arrangements. But twenty-four hours later he was in Sacramento, scoring a third round TKO over a journeyman named Salvador Ugalde. Immediately after, he dedicated the win to Valorie.
Behind the smile, an ocean of pain.
This is the tragic backdrop for one of the greatest fights in boxing history.
Chacon and Rafael Limon did not like each other. Limon, a native of Mexico City, saw Bobby as a typical “pretty boy,” a pampered California boxer, lacking in manhood, while “The Schoolboy” regarded “Bazooka” an an arrogant prick. Their first three fights had been rough and nasty and the fourth promised to be no different, except in one regard: this time it was for the a super-featherweight world title belt which Limon had won earlier that year. The bout was held in Sacramento, broadcast live on national television, with Chacon fans packing the auditorium, everyone hoping Bobby might redeem the years of pain and sacrifice by finally winning a second world championship.
Before the fight, in his dressing, Chacon, paced restlessly, his thoughts never far from Valorie, as he kept repeating out loud to himself: “I can’t lose. I can’t lose.”
From the opening bell, the two warriors fought with startling ferocity and little regard for self-protection. Limon was the aggressor, landing wide, looping shots and forcing Chacon to give ground. He took the first round and midway through round two he had Bobby in the corner, working him over with both hands, before Chacon abruptly charged forward and fought his way out, landing a series of hard rights as the crowd erupted. Yes, it was going to be another war.
A left hand put Chacon down in round three and the two warriors took turns punishing each other through the middle rounds, both battling with uncommon intensity. More and more it became a contest between the fighters’ power hands, Chacon’s lead right vs the southpaw Limon’s overhand left. Bobby came on strong in rounds eight and nine, but a huge counter left put the challenger down again in round ten.
The pace never slackened; every round was deadly close, and in almost every round both men were rocked. Chacon bled from a cut on the bridge of his nose but appeared to win more rounds, though the two knockdowns couldn’t be discounted. As if to emphasize the closeness of the struggle, in the thirteenth they managed to stagger each other during the same exchange, Limon landing the big left, Chacon the right.
By the fourteenth, Limon’s legs were gone and he clung to Chacon like a drowning man in rough water, while Bobby, desperate and driven, surged forward, fighting as if his very life was on the line. And in the final round, with the crowd on its feet and chanting Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!, he finally found what he had been searching for. With fewer than fifteen seconds left, he caught Limon coming in with a hard right and followed up with two more, the blows sending “Bazooka” crashing to the canvas as Chacon leapt on the ropes and let out a wild bellow of triumph. Seconds later the final bell rang. It was like something out of a movie.
The legendary Bobby Chacon.
The crowd was silent as the judges’ decision was announced and then erupted as Bobby Chacon was declared the victor, a world champion again, winner of an amazingly dramatic and action-packed war by close decision. If he had not floored Limon in the final seconds, the result would have been a draw. At ringside, veteran fight scribe Jack Fiske, who had covered the sport for more than four decades, called it possibly the greatest fight he had ever seen.
Afterwards, an emotional Bobby dedicated the win to Valorie.
“I finally broke down after the Limon fight,” Chacon recounted later. “I didn’t like that guy to begin with and with everything that happened… I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. I just kept thinking about Valorie. I cried for days … She came to me in my dreams. I would cry and then when I could finally sleep she came to me, as beautiful as always. Maybe to say goodbye.”
"There’s not enough money in the world to pull a man off the canvas when he has fallen face first or to make him keep punching through a waterfall of blood and bone-dead exhaustion, that comes from somewhere else, some place deep and feral, where money has no meaning.”
Some shots from Chacon-Limon IV, wish I could find better images from this fight because these photos don't do it justice. What a war, Chacon had the heart of a lion.
"Arturo Gatti was probably the warrior of this era. Some of his battles, win or lose are becoming legendary. Rewind now back to early 1970′s to the mid 80′s. There was a boxer, a champion who was Gatti before there was a Gatti. If anyone recalls Bobby ” Schoolboy ” Chacon they have to remember his blood and guts wars with Rafael ” Bazooka ” Limon and Cornelius Boza Edwards. He was a fine boxer but in many cases his heart over ruled his head and he decided to slug instead of box. It may have cost Bobby some fights but the fans sure got their money’s worth. They got a lot highlight clip memories too."
On May 24th, in 1974 at the Los Angeles Sports Arena in California, Bobby Chacon handed future featherweight champ Danny "Little Red" Lopez his first professional loss via a 9th-round TKO. The bout was a classic clash of brawlers with knockout power, and this fight further cements Chacon’s reputation as one of boxing’s most exciting warriors. Here are some photos of Chacon and Lopez at the contract signing with Aileen Eaton, "The First Lady of Boxing", presiding.
Impressive win by Bobby Chacon, to stand toe-to-toe with the murderous punching Danny Lopez and stop him. Lopez came into this fight with a record of 23-0 (21 KO) to give you a good idea of just how hard he could bang.
Credit: Long Beach Press-Telegram
"Bobby Chacon, unintimidated by Danny lopez' power, beat Little Red at his own game with a 9th round knockout at the L.A. Sport Arena Friday night. A nearly full house of 16,027 and 2,671 closed circuit TV witnesses at the Olympic Auditorium a few blocks away saw Chacon win a classic battle between the Southland's two popular featherweights when referee John Thomas called a halt at 48 seconds of the 9th. Chacon had the situation in hand most of the way and he brought it to a sudden halt when he bolted from his corner to start the climactic round. He met Lopez in the center of the ring with a heavy right that sent Lopez reeling toward the ropes, following up with two more rights and a left. Lopez would have gone down had he not fallen onto the bottom strand, where he absorbed further punishment until slumping to the deck. He gamely tried to resume battle but ran into another barrage and the final dynamite right that sent him onto the ropes on the opposite side of the ring."
These photos are from Bobby Chacon vs Jesus "Chucho" Castillo on April 28th, 1973 at The Forum in Inglewood, California. Castillo was a great fighter, a legend in his own right.
"Realizing another Forum loss would put his future drawing power in jeopardy, Chucho Castillo immediately opened up on the undefeated Bobby Chacon, giving him a sound whipping from the 2nd round on. Bobby speared with the jab and dug to the body in an effort to slow down his older rival. But the 21 year old youth seemed generally out-gunned. The Mexican's attack was especially potent in the 4th, when he had Chacon in serious trouble with furious, multi-punch combinations near the ropes. Although dazed, Chacon fought back, with one of his counter-attacks responsible for opening a gaping wound on the bridge of Castillo's nose. Castillo wasn't much good for anything during the second half of the battle, moving sluggishly about the ring, gasping for air. Chacon managed to take advantage of the situation. Coyly jabbing and picking his shots, the rookie built up piles of points round after round, while his experienced foe could do nothing. The finale came in the 10th when right hands by Bobby dropped Jesus to the mat twice, finally prompting referee Rudy Jordan to halt matters at 1:35." -World Boxing, Sept. 1973 issue
Post fight comments:
"I just reverted back to my original fight plan, which was to simply box Castillo. I've been trying to knock everybody out lately, so I figured I'd stick and move in this one and try to pace myself." -Bobby Chacon
"I know I can beat this guy, and I definitely want a rematch. But in Mexico, not here." -Chucho Castillo
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Bobby Chacon lands vicious left hooks against Arturo Pineda during the fight at the Olympic Auditorium on February 15,1973 in Los Angeles, California. Bobby Chacon won by a KO 5.
Bobby Chacon (left) connects with a left hook to Jose Luis Martin Del Campo during their fight at the Forum on October 13,1973 in Inglewood, California. Bobby Chacon won by a KO 9.
"Schoolboy" Bobby Chacon made his first defense of the WBC featherweight title with an overwhelming 2nd round KO of Jesus Estrada at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, California on March 1st in 1975.
A capacity crowd of more than 10,000 paid more than $130,000 to see Chacon, then only 23, run through the challenger.
One ringside report read:
"Former collegian Bobby Chacon knocked out Mexico's Jesus "Papelero" Estrada in the second round Saturday night to successfully defend his World Boxing Council featherweight championship.
Chacon, 126, of Sylmar, California, knocked the 125 1/2-pound Estrada, of Guadalajara, down midway in the round and finished him off with a flurry of punches at the ropes with an overhand right the finale.
The end came at 2:38 and Estrada was down for at least two minutes after referee John Thomas concluded his count of ten.
Chacon, 23, who quit California State College at Northridge to concentrate on fighting, held command from the opening seconds, when he landed a left to the body and a left-right combination to the head.
Estrada, the Mexican featherweight champion, attempted to open fast in the second round and landed a combination to the head before Chacon jabbed his way out of any danger. Then a left staggered Estrada and a right put him down for a short count.
Thomas tolled eight with Estrada on his feet before letting the bout continue. Then Chacon forced his foe into the ropes and hammered away seemingly at will with Estrada showing little defense before the right hand finally sent him down."
You know, I have to say, Bobby Chacon's story is one of the most fascinating boxing stories I've ever run across, a college student in California who quits college and becomes a boxer at the suggestion of his girlfriend. He develops into one of the most electrifying, savage, blood-and-guts fighters to ever enter a boxing ring. Even his nickname is cool as hell, "Schoolboy". I honestly have to say, if I were a featherweight in his era and I looked across the ring and saw him standing there, I would say to myself, "I'm about to go through some $hit that's probably going to scar me for life." That was the kind of fighter he was, if you wanted to beat him you were going to go through some things in your life. How does a guy go from being in college one day, to being a gladiator with the heart of a lion and the toughness of a steel beam the next? Fascinating fighter and story.
A while back there were some press photos on eBay of Bobby Chacon posing at his old college in California, in one photo he was dressed kind of preppie and was sitting on a wall reading a book, and another photo had him in a fight pose, I hesitated and didn't buy them and now the seller is no longer on eBay and the photos are gone. I'm kicking myself everyday for not buying those photos. It makes me sick just thinking about it. I'm disgusted with myself.
By the way The "Schoolboy" moniker was coined by boxing publicist Bill Caplan to highlight Chacon's student status. Chacon was a college student at California State University, Northridge (CSUN) when he turned professional in 1972 and he actually began his professional career while attending classes. That's the story behind one of the coolest nicknames in sports history right there. This is a photo of Bill Caplan, he's a legend in his own right and he's in the IBHOF (International Boxing Hall of Fame). Enthralled with boxing from a young age, Caplan began his career in boxing in 1962 when he was hired to handle public relations for promoter Leo Minskoff and Hall of Famer Joe Louis. In 1974 Caplan was the first publicist hired by Don King for his newly formed Don King Productions.
Coffee with a Warrior: Bobby “Schoolboy” Chacon remembers
17-Apr-24
By: John J. Raspanti
“She wanted me to quit. She kept telling me, ’Quit, Bobby,’ "said Chacon. “She was the one who, when we were real young, told me I should fight in the ring."
At one time, the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, CA, was considered the Mecca of Southern California boxing.
It rises skyward from a corner street in a poor section of the city, like a looming presence from another time. Now, it’s a house of worship(,) even though its ticket booths still stand under layers of dirt and grime. Like the man I was about to meet, former two-time featherweight champion "Schoolboy" Bobby Chacon, the building has withstood the ravages of time and refused to give up.
Chacon arrives, smiling broadly as he shakes my hand. With him is his friend of over thirty years, Michael Donohue, and his girlfriend, Laura.
Despite his mischievous demeanor, Chacon knows the meaning of sacrifice. He suffers from pugilistic dementia, a condition affecting boxers who have suffered repeated blows to the head. Chacon was one of them, taking a lot of punishment in his career. But he’d be the first to tell you he knew no other way to fight. Chacon doesn’t waste time feeling sorry for himself.
He started boxing at seventeen years old, when his future wife, Valerie, was his biggest supporter. She encouraged Chacon, who had built quite a reputation on the streets of Pacoima, to fight in the ring, instead of the streets. His first nine fights took place at the Fabulous Forum in Inglewood, CA. Chacon won eight of them by knockout.
Chacon might look like a choirboy, but he hit like a mule.
He debuted at the fabled Olympic in 1973 against the tough Arturo “Tury” Pineda, a victor in 17 of his 18 bouts. Chacon was 15-0, with 14 knockouts. Pineda started fast. He clipped Chacon’s chin with uppercuts and hooks. He probably thought he was winning. Chacon found the range in round two. His jab began to work. His right hand followed his left like a piston. By round three, Pineda was in deep trouble. By round five, he was on the canvas.
Bobby Chacon was a star. He was, along with Danny “Little Red” Lopez, the most popular fighter in Southern California. A bout between the two seemed inevitable.
I asked Chacon about his fight with Lopez in 1974.
“I used to spar with Danny and he’d whup me all the time,” Chacon recalled. “Then my manager said we were going to fight him. When we were sparring, I was learning so much about Danny. All that sparring made me a better fighter. So, when we fought I was ready. I knew where he was. My right hand kept finding him.”
He stood to demonstrate how he threw his combinations. He dipped and threw the same left hook that had floored Lopez.
Chacon battled the great Alexis Arguello in 1979. Although almost a head shorter and with a reach disadvantage of eleven inches, Chacon stayed under Arguello’s jab. His short hooks were landing on the inside. Through five rounds, all of the judges had him ahead. In round six, Arguello opened a nasty cut near the corner of Chacon’s right eye. The doctor stopped the fight in round seven.
“Again, I wasn’t in that good of shape,” said Chacon. ”He used his jab very well. He was tall like you,” he added, playfully punching me in the shoulder.
I mentioned to Chacon that Arguello had died recently. He grew quiet, asking what had happened.
I told him that Arguello had shot himself. Chacon paused before responding, “Like my wife,Valerie.”
His words resonated over the Twilight movie soundtrack blaring from a nearby theatre.
Many of his friends feel that Chacon never fully recovered from losing his wife.
Since his demeanor had changed, I shifted gears, suspecting we would return later to the subject.
“What about Cornelius Boza Edwards?” I asked.
Chacon lifted his head, smiling again.
“I fought him twice. The first time I wasn’t ready for him,” he said. “That’s why he beat me. The second time I was ready and got the win. The hardest thing about being a fighter is that you have to stay in shape.
“If you want to be a fighter, you have to be disciplined. If you’re not in shape, you’re not going to win,” he said.
“Was Bobby the party animal we all heard about?” I asked his friend, Michael
Chacon, distracted, turned his head quickly and said, “How’d you know?”
We laughed at his timing.
“I was young and having fun,” Chacon said. “Then when I was older, I wasn’t able to party and fight. I’d lose.
"The one thing you got to do when you’re a fighter is, you can’t play with that,” Chacon said pointing down to his groin.
Chacon fought Rafael “Bazooka” Limon multiple times between 1975 and 1982. Every fight was a war. Their last bout took place at the Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento, CA.
“I fought him four times,” said Chacon. “He beat me the first time. I beat him in the rematch. It really depended how serious I was. We fought to a draw. The last fight we had was a hard, hard fight.”
I asked Chacon about regrets. His career lasted until 1988. He was thirty-seven years old when he retired.
He hesitated before responding, “My only regret was that I had to stop fighting. I wish I could still fight."
Then he added, “Valerie’s a regret.”
Valerie Chacon begged Bobby to quit fighting in 1981. She was tired of him coming home beat up and unable to remember things. At the time, Chacon had engaged in 50 fights as a professional. He won the featherweight title in 1975. But as he grew older, he began to absorb some serious beatings.
When he was in his early 20’s, Chacon’s defensive abilities were top-notch.
“He had a way of moving his head at the last second,” remembered Golden Boy publicist Bill Caplan. “It was uncanny. He didn’t get hit much.
“He wasn’t always a slugger,” said Caplan “He was more of a boxer, but the people liked slugging. Bobby wanted to make the people happy,” he said.
By 1982, Valerie was threatening to kill herself if Chacon didn’t retire.
“She wanted me to quit. She kept telling me, ’Quit, Bobby,’ "said Chacon. “She was the one who, when we were real young, told me I should fight in the ring.
“Then, years later, she’s telling me to quit. I said one more fight, just one more.”
On March 14, 1982, a day before Chacon would fight Salvador Ulgade, Valerie Chacon grabbed a rifle and shot herself.
It's a shame that Bobby Chacon doesn't have many cards to collect, this is about the only card he has, a 1985 Fight of the Century stickers, this was a Venezuelan issue set of boxing stickers that can in small packs. They came in pairs and you could keep them together or separate them. They also came with different backs, blank back and a silver back.
Bobby Chacon and "Rock-A-Bye" Ruben Olivares, they fought three times, Olivares got him the first two times they fought and Chacon finally figured him out on the third encounter and won a decision.
Comments
Don't know what order these go in but it's an awesome sequence of photos showing Sean O'Grady sparring.
Sean O'Grady and Jerry "Wimpy" Halstead do their morning road work around the perimeter of Sloan's Lake in Denver, Colorado.
Happy Birthday Erin. ❤️
Nice fight pose photo of Sean O'Grady.
Sean O'Grady Green Machine t-shirt.
This is my favorite photo of Sean O'Grady, fight pose, bubblegum, wicked image.
Sean O'Grady vs Shig Fukuyama, 1978. Chewing the bubblegum and popping a bubble as the rules are explained at center ring, fighting through the blood, love O'Grady.
Sean O'Grady, aka "The Bubblegum Kid", aka "The Bubblegum Bomber."
Rocky Graziano on the cover of The National Police Gazette in 1951.
"Funny thing. Adults think l look mean. How come l don't scare the kids? Maybe they got more courage."
Epic shot of the blood flying from Brian Norman Jr's mouth as he gets hits with a left hand from Devin Haney on November 22nd, 2025.
Miguel Cotto retained his WBA welterweight title at the Roberto Clemente Coliseum on this day in 2007 when 37-year-old challenger Oktay Urkal’s corner threw in the towel during the 11th round.
Cotto was well ahead on all the judges’ scorecards when the German challenger’s corner waved off the bout after the referee deducted a point from Urkal for head-butting. Urkal had already been penalized in the seventh round for the same offence.
“The blood helped him to survive,” Cotto, 26, said in a televised interview after the bout, referring to the gash over his eye. “The blood bothered me in the fight.”
Urkal’s trainer, Uli Wegner, said through an interpreter: “He was throwing punches that shouldn’t be allowed. Oktay was red and blue in the back.”
Urkal never fought again.
Savage images of Miguel Cotto during the fight with Oktay Urkal. Cotto is one of my favorite fighters, Puerto Rican warrior.
Music time, the opening riff in this song is sick.
Heavyweight Lennox Lewis stood 6'5" tall throughout his professional boxing career and weighed between 235 and 256 pounds, one of the largest heavyweights ever and he had some of the biggest and scariest fists in boxing history. This is a bronze display comparing his fists to other boxing greats Ruben Olivares, Donald Curry, Tony Zale, Roberto Duran, and Willie Pep.
Sick image of the legendary "Man of Steel" Tony Zale blowing the dust off of his boxing gloves, I actually own this photo.
The great Roberto Duran, locked and loaded, I own this photo as well.
Next up, Bobby "Schoolboy" Chacon. I'm a bit hesitant to write about Chacon, my God he's such a legend, I can't possibly begin to explain what this man meant to boxing. You hear the word "heart" thrown around a lot in boxing, but let me tell you, Bobby Chacon was the definition of heart.
The Apparition That Was Bobby Chacon
May 29, 2006 – By: Ted Sares:
Sometimes I have the hubris to think I can write and on certain topics I sometimes seem do a reasonably fair job, that is, unless my friends and readers are patronizing me. But when it comes to my life’s true love, boxing, I seem to have all kinds of problems expressing myself. I hope that’s not the case here, for this essay is just too special and too spiritual for that to happen. It’s about Bobby Chacon and if anyone deserves special treatment, it’s Bobby. Bobby “Schoolboy” Chacon was inducted into the Boxing Hall of Fame last year and that made me extremely happy. You see, Bobby was my favorite fighter, and since I have watched literally thousands of fights during my 68 years of life and consider myself something of an aficionado, I hope that accolade carries at least a modicum of weight. Hell, I have seen them all; the “bums of a month,” the excitement that was Bob Satterfield, the fights between Charles, Louis and Walcott. LaMotta-Robinson, Ward-Gatti, Ward-Green, Ward-Augustus, Zale-Graziano, Correlas-Castillo, Ali-Frazier, Patterson-Johansson, Barrera-Morales. I saw Sugar Ray send Dave Boy Green into dreamland with the perfect left hook……and witnessed the illogic of Hearns putting Duran away with a lethal straight right, and then Duran brutalize Barkley and then Barkley knock out Hearns. I watched Leotis Martin starch Sonny Liston. Bruce Curry and Monroe Brooks go to the precipice, and Kid Paret, Laverne Roach, Duk Koo Kim, Johnny Owens and Leavander Johnson leave everything in the ring. I witnessed the mind numbing suddenness of the Mesa-Garza fight and the shoot outs between Moorer-Cooper and Lyle-Foreman. The slow slide of Jerry Quarry and too many others. I can sense the early signs……the slurring……the nasal monotone. I saw the epiphany of Foreman. The disappointment that was Tyson. I have been dazzled by the magic, heard the music and seen the dance. I pray for Michael Watson, Gerald McClellan and Greg Page and remember the courage of Robert Wangila, Pedro Alcazar, and Beethoven Scottland. I have seen very good things, some not so good, and some downright ugly, but nothing comes close to what I saw and felt during a period between 1978 and 1982 involving three warriors by the names of Chacon, Limon and Boza-Edwards. Bobby Chacon was born on November 28, 1951 in Sylmar, CA. He was a tough kid of Mexican-American descent and soon found himself in the gym. He became an amateur Diamond belt champion and fought in National Golden Glove Tournaments in both 1971 and 1972. He turned pro in Los Angeles in 1972 while attending California State University at Northridge thereby acquiring the nickname “Schoolboy.” With a fearless, savage and widely exciting style, he became an immediate fan favorite. While the word “brawler” might best describe him, he was also a crafty slugger who could slip punches off the ropes. Though short, he had a deceptively long reach advantage. He was often willing to absorb heavy punishment in order to mete it out and this likely contributed to his later difficulties. He knocked out 23 of his first 25 opponents, including a TKO over Chucho Castillo and an electrifying, career enhancing 9th round TKO victory over future Hall of Famer Danny “Little Red” Lopez. His only loss at that point was a 9th round stoppage to the very tough Ruben Olivares in 1973. The next year, he stopped Alfredo Marcano in 9 rounds to capture the WBC featherweight crown. He defended successfully against Jesus Estrada but lost the title to rival Olivares in 1975 (whom he finally beat by decision in their third match in 1977). But the genesis for this story started in 1975 when he took on Rafael “Bazooka”Limon in Mexacali, Mexico. Bobby lost a ten round decision, but it began a four-bout rivalry that compares with the very best in boxing history. Neither boxer liked the other and the word “grudge” was frequently mentioned. The two would fight to a technical draw in 1979. Chacon then stepped up in class and lost to the great Alexis Arguello by knock out in the seventh round. Then, in what would become still another great rivalry, he lost in dramatic fashion by knockout to Ugandan Cornelius Boza-Edwards in the 14th round. Bobby could not come out for the 14th round, His left eye was almost closed and his nose hideously cut. This loss was considered by many as Bobby’s swan song, and he was encouraged to take a hard look at getting out, but he would have none of that. He pulled himself up, put together a string of wins, and began making his way up the rankings again. But during this time, that other story that others so often write about…..the personal and self-destructive side of Bobby’s life…..was in upheaval. But unlike others, I will not deal with that, for I truly believe it diminishes that side of Bobby Chacon who was the fighter. Suffice to say his personal life was pure and real tragedy, and I just don’t have the inclination (nor perhaps the literary skills) to give it its melodramtic due. If Bobby was no angel in his personal life, he certainly was a lion in the ring and that’s where my focus and recollections remain. Now then, after his loss to Boza-Edwards, his fourth and final bout with Limon was scheduled and fought. According to Ring and KO Magazines and the Ring En Espanol, the fourth Chacon-Limon fight became one of the fights of the year and the decade. First one would get rocked; then the other. Both would be floored. Bobby, was cut, bleeding profusely, pummeled, and ready to go only to come back score his own knockdown. Chacon got up bleeding after knockdowns suffered in rounds 3 and 10 to drop Limon in the closing seconds of round 15, and cinch a close but undisputed decision. Surely, had Limon not gone down, Bobby would not have won. I lived in Boston at the time and recall leaping up from my chair, spilling beer and food all over the place and on my friends and screaming unabashedly at the top of my voice, “Get him Bobby, get him, knock him out.” And get him he did. The scoring was: Judge Angel L. Guzman 142-141, Judge Carlos Padilla 143-141 and Judge Tamotsu Tomihara 141-140. This was the fight that turned me from dedicated boxing fan to full fledged addict and I make no apologies for that. This fight, the essence of which was toe to toe, ebb and flow, back and forth action, was breathtaking and I mean that quite lietrally. It was as close as two fearless men can get to death, to the edge, if you will, and still survive. Limon actually had a strange smile on his face as he was knocked down for the last time and was getting up; I swear on a stack of bibles that he smiled at the crowd. It was almost mystical, surreal, whatever label you could put on it. All I know is I will never forget the 15th round of that fight. “I broke down after the Limon fight,” he says. “I didn’t like that guy to begin with and with everything that happened……I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat………” Incredibly, Bobby would then go on to defend against Boza-Edwards at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas and retain his crown in still another “fight of the year” that had me up and screaming once again. Trading vicious hooks throughout, this one almost equaled the Limon fight for its ebb and flow action and pure savagery. Ring Magazine called this one 1983’s fight of the year, the second consecutive one involving Bobby. Once again Chacon rose from a knockdown (this time in the first round) and, despite a deep and dangerous cut, dropped Boza Edwards in round twelve as the crowd roared approval and as Bobby avenged his earlier defeat and retain his WBC junior-lightweight crown. One fight was unreal, but my God, another? How much could you take? Like the Limon fight, the unanimous decision he won against Boza-Edwards was surreal in its spectacularity……but unfortunately that would be the last of Bobby’s ring glory. Stripped of his title in June 1983 for refusing to fight Hector Camacho in his home country of Puerto Rico, Chacon then attempted to win a third world title, but was stopped by lightweight champion Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini in 3 one-sided rounds in 1984 (and as boxing fortune would have it, Greg Haugen would do the same to Mancini in 1992 and then he, himself, woud have the favor returned by Thomas Damgaard in 03). I last saw Bobby fight in 1985 when he exposed and brutalized up-and-coming Davey Montana in Reno. He won seven consecutive fights against solid competition, including Freddie Roach and Arturo Frias, to close out his career in 1988 with a 59-7-1 (47 KOs) record and a legacy as one of boxing’s most exciting and popular fighters. But his personal life would once again be marred by tragedy when his son was murdered in 1991. Later, Bobby was spotted at a public appearance in 1996 to see the Pay Per View fight between De La Hoya and Chavez. By 2000 he had lost all of his material possessions including his mansion, farm and numerous cars. But far more tragically, he was now, by all accounts, suffering from pugistica demenetia, a condition that sometimes occurs among ex-fighters who take too many blows to the head. Bobby’s speech is slurred and thick-tongued, his memory poor and he is now unsteady on his feet. In 2002, USA Today ran a story detaiing his residence in a Los Angeles transient way station, where local non-profit groups buy rooms for the homeless. He was 47 and living on a social security disability pension, and has been seen looking for aluminium cans on the streets and in junk yards to help support himself. I don’t know exactly where he is today, maybe living with his mother. He apparently was seen with Mike Weaver and a group of other former California boxers in 2005 at an autograph signing event in Los Angeles, but I’m not sure I really want to know much more than that. The memories I want are the breathtaking ones of those late afternoons in my den Boston when I watched his life and death struggles with Bazooka Limon and Conrelius Boza-Edwards, struggles in which he stood alone in the middle of the ring more as an apparition than as a boxer and seem to say “come on, let’s make this special, I’m willing to pay the price.” There stood a warrior resolute and unbowed, there stood a fighter. Quite simply, Bobby Chacon had the greatest fighting hearts of any boxer I have ever seen. Win or lose, he would give it everything he had. And wherever he is, I know he will wearing his trademark ingratiating smile as he did when he was inducted into the Hall last year. “As much as I love boxing, I hate it. And as much as I hate it, I love it.”
You know, much like the author of the above article, I often struggle to put my thoughts and feelings into words. I'm not a good writer, I wish I was but the fact is I'm just not. I can't really describe what I want to say about Bobby Chacon. His ability to take punishment and dig deep was insane. His fights were action movies, they kept you on the edge of your seat. He fought wars in the ring, he probably shouldn't have walked away alive after a few of them, they were that hellacious and brutal. They should honestly put a statue of him outside the ancient Colosseum in Rome because he was a gladiator in every sense. This is an article written about his second fight with Cornelius Boza-Edwards, an apocalyptic encounter that saw Chacon absorb ungodly amounts of punishment, fight through pure unadulterated hell, and win. This fight was total, all-out war. Gosh, Boza-Edwards is one of my favorite fighters as well, such a warrior.
On This Day: Bobby Chacon’s Last Great Fight
By: James Slater - 05/15/2023 -
40 years ago today, astonishing ring warrior Bobby Chacon, a blood and guts warrior of the highest order, a man who was seemingly never in a boring fight, gave us his final great one. Facing fellow tough guy, Cornelius Boza Edwards in a return of their May 1981 war, this one won by Boza when Chacon was unable to come out for round 14, Chacon once again dup unimaginably deep in the search of victory. The fight of May 15, 1983, proved to be Ring Magazine’s Fight of The Year. It could have been the best fight of the decade. Chacon and Edwards swapped an almighty amount of leather, they traded knockdowns, they tested one another’s heart in a purely hellish manner, and Chacon bled profusely from both eyes as well as from the nose. Finally, after a slippery canvas (slippery due to a combination of the blood and water that splashed the mat), after pleas from commentator Fredie Pacheco to stop the fight, so badly busted up was Chacon, so much punishment he was taking in the eyes of “The Fight Doctor,” Chacon had, courtesy of a late rounds rally, won the fight. Surprisingly, it was a unanimous decision for “Schoolboy.” This would have been a fine way for 31 year old Chacon to walk away. Chacon had evened the score with Edwards, and he still had his health. But Chacon was never going to retire. Fighting was his life. Sadly, as a result of the many wars he fought in, Chacon was not left with much of a life during his final years. Chacon had a hard life, both in and out of the ring. Facing the elite featherweights, Chacon, nicknamed “Schoolboy” due to his youthful looks and the fact that he did attend university for a while, soon found out he was a born fighter. Chacon went pro in January of 1972 and he was soon a major fan attraction. At just 22, Chacon was 19-0, with a win over Chucho Castillo to his name, when he was matched with the great Ruben Olivares. Olivares knew too much for Chacon, getting a 9th round retirement win. But Chacon hadn’t even got going yet. Chacon roared back and he defeated Danny Lopez by stoppage and then, in September of 1974, Chacon stopped Alfredo Marcano to win the WBC featherweight title. A huge attraction in California, Chacon had many admirers. His reign was short, with Bobby being stopped by Olivares in a return, this in his second title defence. This time, Olivares got a quick win, in just a couple of rounds. But then, on December 7th, 1975, Chacon met the man who would become his most famous rival. Rafael “Bazooka” Limon won a decision over Chacon in the first of four savage fights. After losing to Bazooka in Mexico, Chacon set his sights on becoming a two-weight champ. During this time, in a third go, Chacon was finally able to beat Olivares, this by decision in a non-title fight in August of 1977. A return with Lamon, for the NABF 130 pound strap, ended as a TD as Lamon suffered a bad cut. These two rivals had two super fights ahead of them. A failed challenge of the great Alexis Arguello, where a bloodied Chacon was stopped in seven rounds, was followed by a third war with Limon. This time, in March of 1980, Chacon walked away with a split decision win. Then, after a punishing loss to the big and strong Cornelius Boza Edwards, Chacon enjoyed a great spell, where he won seven fights on the spin. But during this spell, Bobby’s wife, who had urged her husband to retire, so tough was it for her to see him take the punches he so often, even willingly took, could stand no more. Valorie Chacon took her own life by shooting herself. Chacon was devastated yet he used the inner rage and grief to fight even harder. The fourth and final battle between Chacon and Limon, which was waged in December of 1982, produced one of the greatest, most astonishingly violent, brutal and thrilling fights of all-time. Chacon took immense amounts of punishment from the rock-fisted Limon and the fight proved to be another truly special one from Chacon, who was now the WBC super-featherweight champ. And then, Chacon avenged his loss to Boza Edwards, getting the unanimous decision 40 years ago this very day, this one, as described above, yet another almost unbelievable shoot-out. Chacon had been stripped for not facing Hector Camacho, but none of his fans cared too much. Chacon had again pushed himself to the extreme, in so doing giving his sport another blistering classic. This was the last great fight for Chacon. It should have been the end. Chacon, like so many before him as well as after him, fought on for far too long. Beaten up by Ray Mancini in a lightweight title challenge, Chacon was a faded warrior, yet he could not quit. Finally, in 1988, after having spilt so much blood and having left so much of himself in the ring, Chacon retired with a 59-7-1(47) record. Sadly, his money disappearing as rapidly as his health and his memories, Chacon cut a tragic figure in his final years. However, Bobby Chacon may well have been the single most exciting fighter who ever lived. His fight from 40 years ago is almost too violent, too brutal to appreciate. A fan could even find him or herself feeling guilty at enjoying the carnage taking place in the ring. The saying ‘they gave too much’ applies to Bobby Chacon, maybe in the Boza Edwards rematch more than in any of his other fights.
These are the highlights from Bobby Chacon-Cornelius Boza-Edwards II. Listen to the announcer say, "What is keeping little Bobby Chacon together? I don't know." That one sentence pretty much sums up Bobby Chacon, the guy was able to take ridiculous punishment and keep fighting, at times it was almost as he "got off" on taking punishment. His ability to dig deep was uncanny, I don't know where he got it from, perhaps a place deep within the inner depths of his heart and soul, a place not visible to any of us, a place only he knew. This fight was the kind of fight that takes years off a fighters career and even his life, it was that brutal.
Some great shots from Chacon-Boza Edwards II.
Bobby Chacon with the swollen, bloody eye during the fight.
Awesome shot of Chacon catching Boza-Edwards with a brutal right cross that distorts Edwards' face. This photo was featured on the cover of the famous British publication "Boxing News" after the fight.
Bobby Chacon vs Rafael "Bazooka" Limon IV. I struggle to choose which fight was better, Chacon-Boza Edwards II or this one right here, regardless, they are probably the two greatest fights in boxing history. Just back-and-forth all-out violence. Not a dull second in either fight, total civil war. This fight had a tragic backdrop to it, Bobby Chacon's wife Valerie killed herself before the fight because she couldn't stand to see Bobby taking so much punishment in the sport, it reminds me a lot of the Rocky films, when Adrian can't take the sight of seeing Rocky getting hurt during his fights. Boxing isn't a game, fighters and their families have paid a dear price for this sport.
The Fight City
Boxiana
Dec. 11, 1982: Chacon vs Limon IV - The Triumph and Tragedy
By: Michael Carbert
They called him “The Schoolboy,” because he had once attended university, a rare thing among professional prizefighters. But make no mistake, despite the nickname and the ever-present boyish smile, Bobby Chacon was as tough and as game as they come. And this was fortunate because it would require uncommon toughness and a genuine passion for struggle and combat to endure the pain of Bobby Chacon’s life.
Bobby’s love for one woman, his high school sweetheart Valorie Ginn, and her love for him, defined that life. They met in 1968, when Chacon was still a junior at San Fernando High. “I was having a party, and I asked her if she wanted to go,” recalled Chacon years later. “We were never really apart after that.”
Bobby had a reputation for being an exceptional street fighter and Valorie encouraged him to try boxing. They would watch the fights on TV and it was Valorie who said, “You can do that.” She even paid for his first boxing license. By 1971 they were married and the next year Chacon turned pro.
The career of Bobby Chacon was a roller coaster, amazing highs followed by agonizing lows. He tore up the featherweight ranks, knocking off one contender after another and quickly became a sensation in the Southern California boxing scene. Then they matched him up with Ruben Olivares and “El Púas” and his deadly left hook taught “The Schoolboy” a harsh lesson, Chacon’s corner stopping the fight after nine violent rounds. But the following year Bobby won his first world title, which he successfully defended once before losing, again to Olivares. And so it went. Chacon would put together a string of wins only to lose to Olivares. Or Alexis Arguello. Or his arch-nemesis, Mexico’s Rafael “Bazooka” Limon.
Bobby and Valorie.
But even the wins could be painful. In 1976, Chacon earned a ten round decision over a Mexican club-fighter with 14 losses on his record named David Sotelo. Floored twice and nearly knocked out, Chacon was fortunate to exit the winner. In his dressing room afterwards, as the doctor worked to stitch up Bobby’s face, his high-school sweetheart and the mother of his children begged him through tears to retire.
Valorie had helped get Chacon into boxing but now she couldn’t get him out, and the guilt and the fear were taking their toll. By this time they had three children and she wanted the family to move to Hawaii for a fresh start. But Bobby had been a champion for a short while, had had a taste of what it was like to get to the top of that mountain. He needed to taste it again.
Bobby going down to the great Olivares.
In March of 1980, Chacon and the southpaw Limon locked up for a third time and, like their first two clashes, this was another vicious brawl. Restless and worried and wanting to avoid even thinking about the fight, Valorie decided to spend the evening with friends in a local bar but she hadn’t counted on the late-night TV newscast. “First the loser,” boomed the television and “Bazooka” Limon’s relatively unmarked face appeared. “And now, believe it or not, the winner!” And there was Bobby with cuts above both eyes and dark welts under.
“I can’t take it anymore,” she told him that night. “Please, you have to stop.”
But Bobby didn’t. And now neither did the arguments, the constant bickering and pleading, the promises and the bargaining. Chacon would say all the right things to placate Valorie, but then he’d be gone and in training for another match. He was in his mid-20s and for him, the die was cast: he was a fighter. He got another title shot, lost another tough battle, but felt more certain than ever he could do it, that if he just kept working and fighting, he would make it to the top again.
Chacon and Limon battle in their third meeting.
But by February of 1982 Valorie had reached the breaking point. The family lived in Palermo now and Bobby was in Sacramento for his next bout when Valorie told the kids she was taking a nap. In the bedroom she swallowed a handful of sleeping pills but they found her in time and got her to the hospital. Bobby won that night and Valorie soon recovered, but then she disappeared for a month. The stress and fear were too much; she was cracking up. They found her wandering around the airport in Sacramento talking to strangers about guns.
Just a few days later Chacon left home for his next bout, another shot at a championship on the horizon if he kept winning. He and Valorie argued on the phone and then the next day came the call, not from Valorie, but from her mother. Valorie was gone. After kissing the framed pictures of her sleeping children, she went into her bedroom with the .22 rifle they kept in the house for protection, put the barrel to her head and pulled the trigger. That night Chacon drove back to Palermo to help his family make funeral arrangements. But twenty-four hours later he was in Sacramento, scoring a third round TKO over a journeyman named Salvador Ugalde. Immediately after, he dedicated the win to Valorie.
Behind the smile, an ocean of pain.
This is the tragic backdrop for one of the greatest fights in boxing history.
Chacon and Rafael Limon did not like each other. Limon, a native of Mexico City, saw Bobby as a typical “pretty boy,” a pampered California boxer, lacking in manhood, while “The Schoolboy” regarded “Bazooka” an an arrogant prick. Their first three fights had been rough and nasty and the fourth promised to be no different, except in one regard: this time it was for the a super-featherweight world title belt which Limon had won earlier that year. The bout was held in Sacramento, broadcast live on national television, with Chacon fans packing the auditorium, everyone hoping Bobby might redeem the years of pain and sacrifice by finally winning a second world championship.
Before the fight, in his dressing, Chacon, paced restlessly, his thoughts never far from Valorie, as he kept repeating out loud to himself: “I can’t lose. I can’t lose.”
From the opening bell, the two warriors fought with startling ferocity and little regard for self-protection. Limon was the aggressor, landing wide, looping shots and forcing Chacon to give ground. He took the first round and midway through round two he had Bobby in the corner, working him over with both hands, before Chacon abruptly charged forward and fought his way out, landing a series of hard rights as the crowd erupted. Yes, it was going to be another war.
A left hand put Chacon down in round three and the two warriors took turns punishing each other through the middle rounds, both battling with uncommon intensity. More and more it became a contest between the fighters’ power hands, Chacon’s lead right vs the southpaw Limon’s overhand left. Bobby came on strong in rounds eight and nine, but a huge counter left put the challenger down again in round ten.
The pace never slackened; every round was deadly close, and in almost every round both men were rocked. Chacon bled from a cut on the bridge of his nose but appeared to win more rounds, though the two knockdowns couldn’t be discounted. As if to emphasize the closeness of the struggle, in the thirteenth they managed to stagger each other during the same exchange, Limon landing the big left, Chacon the right.
By the fourteenth, Limon’s legs were gone and he clung to Chacon like a drowning man in rough water, while Bobby, desperate and driven, surged forward, fighting as if his very life was on the line. And in the final round, with the crowd on its feet and chanting Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!, he finally found what he had been searching for. With fewer than fifteen seconds left, he caught Limon coming in with a hard right and followed up with two more, the blows sending “Bazooka” crashing to the canvas as Chacon leapt on the ropes and let out a wild bellow of triumph. Seconds later the final bell rang. It was like something out of a movie.
The legendary Bobby Chacon.
The crowd was silent as the judges’ decision was announced and then erupted as Bobby Chacon was declared the victor, a world champion again, winner of an amazingly dramatic and action-packed war by close decision. If he had not floored Limon in the final seconds, the result would have been a draw. At ringside, veteran fight scribe Jack Fiske, who had covered the sport for more than four decades, called it possibly the greatest fight he had ever seen.
Afterwards, an emotional Bobby dedicated the win to Valorie.
“I finally broke down after the Limon fight,” Chacon recounted later. “I didn’t like that guy to begin with and with everything that happened… I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. I just kept thinking about Valorie. I cried for days … She came to me in my dreams. I would cry and then when I could finally sleep she came to me, as beautiful as always. Maybe to say goodbye.”
The highlights from Chacon-Limon IV.
"There’s not enough money in the world to pull a man off the canvas when he has fallen face first or to make him keep punching through a waterfall of blood and bone-dead exhaustion, that comes from somewhere else, some place deep and feral, where money has no meaning.”
Some shots from Chacon-Limon IV, wish I could find better images from this fight because these photos don't do it justice. What a war, Chacon had the heart of a lion.
"Arturo Gatti was probably the warrior of this era. Some of his battles, win or lose are becoming legendary. Rewind now back to early 1970′s to the mid 80′s. There was a boxer, a champion who was Gatti before there was a Gatti. If anyone recalls Bobby ” Schoolboy ” Chacon they have to remember his blood and guts wars with Rafael ” Bazooka ” Limon and Cornelius Boza Edwards. He was a fine boxer but in many cases his heart over ruled his head and he decided to slug instead of box. It may have cost Bobby some fights but the fans sure got their money’s worth. They got a lot highlight clip memories too."
On May 24th, in 1974 at the Los Angeles Sports Arena in California, Bobby Chacon handed future featherweight champ Danny "Little Red" Lopez his first professional loss via a 9th-round TKO. The bout was a classic clash of brawlers with knockout power, and this fight further cements Chacon’s reputation as one of boxing’s most exciting warriors. Here are some photos of Chacon and Lopez at the contract signing with Aileen Eaton, "The First Lady of Boxing", presiding.
Bobby Chacon and Danny Lopez facing off before their fight.
Impressive win by Bobby Chacon, to stand toe-to-toe with the murderous punching Danny Lopez and stop him. Lopez came into this fight with a record of 23-0 (21 KO) to give you a good idea of just how hard he could bang.
Credit: Long Beach Press-Telegram
"Bobby Chacon, unintimidated by Danny lopez' power, beat Little Red at his own game with a 9th round knockout at the L.A. Sport Arena Friday night. A nearly full house of 16,027 and 2,671 closed circuit TV witnesses at the Olympic Auditorium a few blocks away saw Chacon win a classic battle between the Southland's two popular featherweights when referee John Thomas called a halt at 48 seconds of the 9th. Chacon had the situation in hand most of the way and he brought it to a sudden halt when he bolted from his corner to start the climactic round. He met Lopez in the center of the ring with a heavy right that sent Lopez reeling toward the ropes, following up with two more rights and a left. Lopez would have gone down had he not fallen onto the bottom strand, where he absorbed further punishment until slumping to the deck. He gamely tried to resume battle but ran into another barrage and the final dynamite right that sent him onto the ropes on the opposite side of the ring."
These photos are from Bobby Chacon vs Jesus "Chucho" Castillo on April 28th, 1973 at The Forum in Inglewood, California. Castillo was a great fighter, a legend in his own right.
"Realizing another Forum loss would put his future drawing power in jeopardy, Chucho Castillo immediately opened up on the undefeated Bobby Chacon, giving him a sound whipping from the 2nd round on. Bobby speared with the jab and dug to the body in an effort to slow down his older rival. But the 21 year old youth seemed generally out-gunned. The Mexican's attack was especially potent in the 4th, when he had Chacon in serious trouble with furious, multi-punch combinations near the ropes. Although dazed, Chacon fought back, with one of his counter-attacks responsible for opening a gaping wound on the bridge of Castillo's nose. Castillo wasn't much good for anything during the second half of the battle, moving sluggishly about the ring, gasping for air. Chacon managed to take advantage of the situation. Coyly jabbing and picking his shots, the rookie built up piles of points round after round, while his experienced foe could do nothing. The finale came in the 10th when right hands by Bobby dropped Jesus to the mat twice, finally prompting referee Rudy Jordan to halt matters at 1:35." -World Boxing, Sept. 1973 issue
Post fight comments:
"I just reverted back to my original fight plan, which was to simply box Castillo. I've been trying to knock everybody out lately, so I figured I'd stick and move in this one and try to pace myself." -Bobby Chacon
"I know I can beat this guy, and I definitely want a rematch. But in Mexico, not here." -Chucho Castillo
Bobby Chacon with "Sugar" Ray Robinson.
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Bobby Chacon lands vicious left hooks against Arturo Pineda during the fight at the Olympic Auditorium on February 15,1973 in Los Angeles, California. Bobby Chacon won by a KO 5.
Bobby Chacon poses for the camera during training.
Bobby Chacon (left) connects with a left hook to Jose Luis Martin Del Campo during their fight at the Forum on October 13,1973 in Inglewood, California. Bobby Chacon won by a KO 9.
This is an epic photo of Andre The Giant and Bobby Chacon goofing around.
Bobby Chacon on the cover of Boxing Illustrated in 1983, with a poster inside.
Check this out, this is a photo of the man himself, Bobby Chacon in his later years, holding a copy of that pull out poster in the above post.
"Schoolboy" Bobby Chacon made his first defense of the WBC featherweight title with an overwhelming 2nd round KO of Jesus Estrada at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, California on March 1st in 1975.
A capacity crowd of more than 10,000 paid more than $130,000 to see Chacon, then only 23, run through the challenger.
One ringside report read:
"Former collegian Bobby Chacon knocked out Mexico's Jesus "Papelero" Estrada in the second round Saturday night to successfully defend his World Boxing Council featherweight championship.
Chacon, 126, of Sylmar, California, knocked the 125 1/2-pound Estrada, of Guadalajara, down midway in the round and finished him off with a flurry of punches at the ropes with an overhand right the finale.
The end came at 2:38 and Estrada was down for at least two minutes after referee John Thomas concluded his count of ten.
Chacon, 23, who quit California State College at Northridge to concentrate on fighting, held command from the opening seconds, when he landed a left to the body and a left-right combination to the head.
Estrada, the Mexican featherweight champion, attempted to open fast in the second round and landed a combination to the head before Chacon jabbed his way out of any danger. Then a left staggered Estrada and a right put him down for a short count.
Thomas tolled eight with Estrada on his feet before letting the bout continue. Then Chacon forced his foe into the ropes and hammered away seemingly at will with Estrada showing little defense before the right hand finally sent him down."
You know, I have to say, Bobby Chacon's story is one of the most fascinating boxing stories I've ever run across, a college student in California who quits college and becomes a boxer at the suggestion of his girlfriend. He develops into one of the most electrifying, savage, blood-and-guts fighters to ever enter a boxing ring. Even his nickname is cool as hell, "Schoolboy". I honestly have to say, if I were a featherweight in his era and I looked across the ring and saw him standing there, I would say to myself, "I'm about to go through some $hit that's probably going to scar me for life." That was the kind of fighter he was, if you wanted to beat him you were going to go through some things in your life. How does a guy go from being in college one day, to being a gladiator with the heart of a lion and the toughness of a steel beam the next? Fascinating fighter and story.
A while back there were some press photos on eBay of Bobby Chacon posing at his old college in California, in one photo he was dressed kind of preppie and was sitting on a wall reading a book, and another photo had him in a fight pose, I hesitated and didn't buy them and now the seller is no longer on eBay and the photos are gone. I'm kicking myself everyday for not buying those photos. It makes me sick just thinking about it. I'm disgusted with myself.
By the way The "Schoolboy" moniker was coined by boxing publicist Bill Caplan to highlight Chacon's student status. Chacon was a college student at California State University, Northridge (CSUN) when he turned professional in 1972 and he actually began his professional career while attending classes. That's the story behind one of the coolest nicknames in sports history right there. This is a photo of Bill Caplan, he's a legend in his own right and he's in the IBHOF (International Boxing Hall of Fame). Enthralled with boxing from a young age, Caplan began his career in boxing in 1962 when he was hired to handle public relations for promoter Leo Minskoff and Hall of Famer Joe Louis. In 1974 Caplan was the first publicist hired by Don King for his newly formed Don King Productions.
Awesome article right here, well worth the read.
Coffee with a Warrior: Bobby “Schoolboy” Chacon remembers
17-Apr-24
By: John J. Raspanti
“She wanted me to quit. She kept telling me, ’Quit, Bobby,’ "said Chacon. “She was the one who, when we were real young, told me I should fight in the ring."
At one time, the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, CA, was considered the Mecca of Southern California boxing.
It rises skyward from a corner street in a poor section of the city, like a looming presence from another time. Now, it’s a house of worship(,) even though its ticket booths still stand under layers of dirt and grime. Like the man I was about to meet, former two-time featherweight champion "Schoolboy" Bobby Chacon, the building has withstood the ravages of time and refused to give up.
Chacon arrives, smiling broadly as he shakes my hand. With him is his friend of over thirty years, Michael Donohue, and his girlfriend, Laura.
Despite his mischievous demeanor, Chacon knows the meaning of sacrifice. He suffers from pugilistic dementia, a condition affecting boxers who have suffered repeated blows to the head. Chacon was one of them, taking a lot of punishment in his career. But he’d be the first to tell you he knew no other way to fight. Chacon doesn’t waste time feeling sorry for himself.
He started boxing at seventeen years old, when his future wife, Valerie, was his biggest supporter. She encouraged Chacon, who had built quite a reputation on the streets of Pacoima, to fight in the ring, instead of the streets. His first nine fights took place at the Fabulous Forum in Inglewood, CA. Chacon won eight of them by knockout.
Chacon might look like a choirboy, but he hit like a mule.
He debuted at the fabled Olympic in 1973 against the tough Arturo “Tury” Pineda, a victor in 17 of his 18 bouts. Chacon was 15-0, with 14 knockouts. Pineda started fast. He clipped Chacon’s chin with uppercuts and hooks. He probably thought he was winning. Chacon found the range in round two. His jab began to work. His right hand followed his left like a piston. By round three, Pineda was in deep trouble. By round five, he was on the canvas.
Bobby Chacon was a star. He was, along with Danny “Little Red” Lopez, the most popular fighter in Southern California. A bout between the two seemed inevitable.
I asked Chacon about his fight with Lopez in 1974.
“I used to spar with Danny and he’d whup me all the time,” Chacon recalled. “Then my manager said we were going to fight him. When we were sparring, I was learning so much about Danny. All that sparring made me a better fighter. So, when we fought I was ready. I knew where he was. My right hand kept finding him.”
He stood to demonstrate how he threw his combinations. He dipped and threw the same left hook that had floored Lopez.
Chacon battled the great Alexis Arguello in 1979. Although almost a head shorter and with a reach disadvantage of eleven inches, Chacon stayed under Arguello’s jab. His short hooks were landing on the inside. Through five rounds, all of the judges had him ahead. In round six, Arguello opened a nasty cut near the corner of Chacon’s right eye. The doctor stopped the fight in round seven.
“Again, I wasn’t in that good of shape,” said Chacon. ”He used his jab very well. He was tall like you,” he added, playfully punching me in the shoulder.
I mentioned to Chacon that Arguello had died recently. He grew quiet, asking what had happened.
I told him that Arguello had shot himself. Chacon paused before responding, “Like my wife,Valerie.”
His words resonated over the Twilight movie soundtrack blaring from a nearby theatre.
Many of his friends feel that Chacon never fully recovered from losing his wife.
Since his demeanor had changed, I shifted gears, suspecting we would return later to the subject.
“What about Cornelius Boza Edwards?” I asked.
Chacon lifted his head, smiling again.
“I fought him twice. The first time I wasn’t ready for him,” he said. “That’s why he beat me. The second time I was ready and got the win. The hardest thing about being a fighter is that you have to stay in shape.
“If you want to be a fighter, you have to be disciplined. If you’re not in shape, you’re not going to win,” he said.
“Was Bobby the party animal we all heard about?” I asked his friend, Michael
Chacon, distracted, turned his head quickly and said, “How’d you know?”
We laughed at his timing.
“I was young and having fun,” Chacon said. “Then when I was older, I wasn’t able to party and fight. I’d lose.
"The one thing you got to do when you’re a fighter is, you can’t play with that,” Chacon said pointing down to his groin.
Chacon fought Rafael “Bazooka” Limon multiple times between 1975 and 1982. Every fight was a war. Their last bout took place at the Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento, CA.
“I fought him four times,” said Chacon. “He beat me the first time. I beat him in the rematch. It really depended how serious I was. We fought to a draw. The last fight we had was a hard, hard fight.”
I asked Chacon about regrets. His career lasted until 1988. He was thirty-seven years old when he retired.
He hesitated before responding, “My only regret was that I had to stop fighting. I wish I could still fight."
Then he added, “Valerie’s a regret.”
Valerie Chacon begged Bobby to quit fighting in 1981. She was tired of him coming home beat up and unable to remember things. At the time, Chacon had engaged in 50 fights as a professional. He won the featherweight title in 1975. But as he grew older, he began to absorb some serious beatings.
When he was in his early 20’s, Chacon’s defensive abilities were top-notch.
“He had a way of moving his head at the last second,” remembered Golden Boy publicist Bill Caplan. “It was uncanny. He didn’t get hit much.
“He wasn’t always a slugger,” said Caplan “He was more of a boxer, but the people liked slugging. Bobby wanted to make the people happy,” he said.
By 1982, Valerie was threatening to kill herself if Chacon didn’t retire.
“She wanted me to quit. She kept telling me, ’Quit, Bobby,’ "said Chacon. “She was the one who, when we were real young, told me I should fight in the ring.
“Then, years later, she’s telling me to quit. I said one more fight, just one more.”
On March 14, 1982, a day before Chacon would fight Salvador Ulgade, Valerie Chacon grabbed a rifle and shot herself.
The pain in Chacon’s eyes was palpable.
‘I’ll love her forever,” he whispered.
I reminded him that his fans still love him.
Suddenly, that infectious Chacon smile returned.
It's a shame that Bobby Chacon doesn't have many cards to collect, this is about the only card he has, a 1985 Fight of the Century stickers, this was a Venezuelan issue set of boxing stickers that can in small packs. They came in pairs and you could keep them together or separate them. They also came with different backs, blank back and a silver back.
Bobby Chacon and "Rock-A-Bye" Ruben Olivares, they fought three times, Olivares got him the first two times they fought and Chacon finally figured him out on the third encounter and won a decision.
Love this image of Bobby Chacon and his trainer Joe Ponce.
Bobby Chacon and a better shot of his trainer Joe Ponce.
Let's get some Bobby Chacon fight posters and programs in here.