This being the day before the Puerto Rican Day Parade in New York, herewith my Greatest PR Boxers Ever:
1. Wilfredo Gomez, the ultimate power puncher.
2. Wilredo Benitez, slickest boxer ever from the island, won a world title at age 17.
3. Carlos Ortiz, brilliant boxer-puncher who finished up 61-7-1, 30 KOand went to the UK, Italy, Japan, Panama, Philippines, Argentina and Mexico to fight top opponents.
4. Felix “Tito” Trinidad, awesome puncher.
5. Jose “Chegui” Torres, certainly no alltime great at light heavyweight but Torres made a big impact even after he hung up the gloves. If anyone was the face of PR boxing and its proud tradition, it was my pal, the writer-fighter. Or should I say fighter-writer? (Torres had charisma, flair and was a good man.
Bottom five:
Mix ’em up, however you want, Hector Camacho Jr., Cotto, Ivan Calderon, Esteban DeJesus and maybe Alfredo Escalera, the Snake Man (he entered the ring with a huge snake wrapped around his neck) and/or Wilfredo Vazquez.
Viva Puerto Rico!
*************************************************************************************************************
I was strolling out of Yankee Stadium last Sunday morning around 2:30 am when I walked by an older couple sitting on a bench.
I did a doubletake because the man was instantly familiar.
I had just witnessed the ring revival of Puerto Rico’s current boxing icon, Miguel Cotto, as he benefitted from a freak accident, a slip and fall by WBA junior middleweight champion and rabbinical student Yuri Foreman.
Three fight series: Puerto Rico’s Carlos Ortiz, right, boxed 45 rounds and beat Ismael Laguna two out of three. In their first world title bout in Panama, Ortiz handler “Honest Bill” Daly had a crooked judge named Ben Greene on his payroll. Laguna won easily but paid off Greene called it a 145-145 draw and was chased by enraged fans all the way to his hotel (AP Photo)
Coincidentally, I was replaying in my mind how Cotto might rank (not so favorably, in my view) as compared to other Boricua boxing greats.
Certainly, Cotto is not in the upper pantheon alongside the gent seated on the bench, former lightweight and junior welterweight champion and now 66 years old, Carlos Ortiz.
I also would rank Cotto nowhere near Bazooka Gomez, Wilfred Benitez or Tito Trinidad.
Ortiz is underappreciated in New York and in boxing.
He competed in a boxing world with eight divisions and really eight recognized world titles, from flyweight to heavyweight.
Today, pro wrestling has fewer “champions” than boxing.
(Filipinos of a certain age will recall how the gutsy Ortiz came to Manila on Feb. 15, 1964, and stopped Pinoy icon Gabriel “Flash” Elorde in 14 rounds.)
Ortiz was an all time great in the 135 pound division, possibly in the Top Ten among all lightweight kings.
One dreamy dream fight that plays out in my mind would have been the great Panamanian, Roberto Duran, against the New Yorican, Ortiz (he was born in Ponce but grew up in The Bronx).
I say all this to get to the meat of this story which is how, in Panama City in 1965, Ortiz actually lost a fight, the first of three against lightning quick Ismael Laguna, when his powerful manager thought he had the outcome safely rigged.
Laguna was mercurial and had hand and foot speed that Floyd Mayweather might envy.
Ortiz won his second and third bouts against Laguna, the second one in San Juan and the final one taking place on Aug. 16, 1967, at Shea Stadium, the now abandoned home of the Mets baseball team.
The incredible, historical fact is that Laguna-Ortiz I was supposed to be fixed in Ortiz’s favor by his dicey manager Bill Daly.
Daly, always a Mob connected character, was known as “Honest Bill” because he was anything but.
According to Bill, who preferred to be called “The Squire,” vicious gangster Frankie Carbo was a prince among men.
Boxing used to bestow nicknames like that. My favorite was manager Jimmy Johnston, another sharp operator who was called “The Honest Brakeman.”
That appellation was attached to Mr. Johnston because, it was always noted, he never stole a boxcar. The same mantle of integrity could be applied to “Honest Bill.”
So Ortiz and Laguna boxed 15 rounds before a partisan crowd and the ring announcer reads the cards. Laguna looked to be a winner going away.
Panamanian judge Ramon Moynes had it in Ismael’s favor, 149-137, or by 12 points.
But then Daly’s handpicked referee, former heavyweight champ Jersey Joe Walcott and journalist-booking agent Ben “On The Fistic Scene” Greene, also Daly’s invited guest, would surely deliver.
Greene was “on the pad” meaning on Daly’s payroll. Ditto for Walcott.
Greene called it a draw at 145-145. Greene was loyal to his patron, Daly.
But Walcott opted for safety over valor and his card was announced as giving the title to Laguna by a whopping 11 points.
Or, as Johnny Bos points, maybe Walcott got a late breaking, better cash “offer” from the hosts.
Doublecrosser Daly had been doublecrossed by his own guy.
The crowd went wild.
Someone yelled, “Americano” and then pointed at Greene.
As he fled the arena, Greene leaped a fence but his suit pants got caught.
His continued his sprint to his hotel, where he hid out for three or four days, minus the pants.
I doubt anyone disturbed Honest Bill at ringside after the shameful verdict.
Once, in Mexico and facing an unruly crowd, Honest Bill had to pull a gun out of a holster to menace the onrushing spectators.
If you think the crowd was upset you should have seen the Mexican cop when he noticed his gun was missing from the holster.
But that true story is best told by Mark Kram, the brilliant Sports Illusttrated fight scribe from his report on the Ortiz-Sugar Ramos controversial ending (1966):
“Half an hour after the decision was announced, Daly decided he and Ortiz would leave. When the police said it was not safe to go, Daly started to grab a gun out of a policeman’s holster and shouted, “I’ll get us out of here.” But the police got Daly calmed down, and 90 minutes later Ortiz and Daly were still in their dressing room. Daly, his cracked rib taped, peered out the window. Outside, a crowd of somber-faced Mexicans stood, their faces pushed against the iron bars of a gate.
“Well, let’s go, Carlos,” said Daly. “There’s some money we got to see about.”
The manager and the fighter left.
” Senor Daly,” a police captain called, “wait for the protection.”
“Ha!” said Daly. He and the lightweight champion of the world moved through the crowd, and their eyes did not miss a face.”
Daly admired Greene being “a standup guy” as one crook might appreciate another.
If only Walcott had favored Ortiz, Daly’s guy could have escaped with his world title on a draw.
When a rum company owner bankrolled the rematch for Puerto Rico, Daly ostensibly gave the Laguna people the right to pick some officials. They even signed a document.
But the small maybe invisible print said the PR boxing commission had final say on the officials.
Daly would not get fooled a second time.
Ortiz won the second and third bouts handily.
Those were the days, my friend.
Ortiz was a great fighter, yes, but I’m not sure he was as great a fighter ad “Honest Bill” was a manager.
