Great, will be looking out for you.Originally Posted by ultimo
Great, will be looking out for you.Originally Posted by ultimo
Both my grandson Ryan & granddaughter Jordan had birthday's in July (21 & 16), their dad (my son) Bobby gave them a party in Laughlin NV., which is on the shores of the Colorado River, here're some pics. that I shot, hope you enjoy them.
That my son Bobby in the back ground
My wife Connie
Great to see pics of you and your family. Maybe we should give titles to those here at CBZ who are in Hall of Fames. Like Sir Kikibalt.
Thanks Kevin: but no body calls me Sir. my friends call me A-Hole.Originally Posted by iskigoe
Then tell them from now on its Sir A-Hole! Lol
Yeah! Sir A-Hole! LolOriginally Posted by iskigoe
u ain't no a hole. luv u bud.
Thanks Greg; LOLOriginally Posted by gregbeyer
gotta talk to the bucket....but ....somehow frankie....somehow.
just spoke to the bucket. i offered him my last road trip ever on your behalf.
i have made that trip many times between commercial fishing up here and working down there. it ain't a lotta fun but we think you are worth it.
he said he is thinking about it. please put the pressure on him so i don't have to kick his ass and hi-jack him.
Greg, try just buying him a cold beer...then hi-jack him. I have a strong feeling he's to old for another ass-kickin' lol! (and we still need him here to keep the peace). Frank, I'm gonna do my best to come to see your induction and will consider it a priviledge if I can make it!
Gray;Originally Posted by Punchdrunk
By all means make it, it'll be nice to meet you, some how I have a feeling that I know you, anyway if you do make it be sure to look me up so we can say hello.
when you lived in Pomona did you know Tony Cerda?, he started Davila and the Sandoval brothers when they were just kids in the late 1960's
I did not know Tony personally, but in those days he was the go to guy in P-town. I remember watching him train guys at a gym down in South Pomona, I think it was down on 12th St, can't remember name, getting to old lol! I have the same feeling with you that we might have crossed paths, I sure feel you are a kindred spirit, thats for sure. Hope to see you soon, take care of yourself and I hope you are still feeling good healthwise.
California Boxing Hall of Fame
California Boxing Hall of Fame is a
Trademark by the Sec'y of State of California
INDUCTION CEREMONIES 2007
Plus - A Tribute to the 80th Anniversary of the
famous Dempsey - Tunney "Long Count"
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Registration and Social Hour - 11:00 am
Roast prime Rib of Beef Luncheon - noon
12833 Ventura Blvd., Studio City, Ca 91604
(corner of Ventura & Coldwater Canyon)
BOXER CATEGORY------NON-BOXER CATEGORY
Oscar De La Hoya------Richard Schaefer
Shane Mosley--------- Don & Lorraine Chargin
FernandoVargas-------Dr. Michael De Luca
Albert Davilla----------Frank Espinoza
Art Frias--------------Josie Arrey-Mejia
Jimmy Harryman-------Carlos Avilas
Genaro Hernandez-----Hank Magamine
Armando Muniz--------David Martinez
Richard Martinez-------Frank Baltazar,Sr.
Luncheon Ticket - $50.00 (tax, tip included)
Send check or money order payable to:
California Boxing Hall of Fame
c/o Don Fraser
10516 Addison St., North Hollywood, CA 91601
Order Early - Limited Seating
Tables of ten can be reserved
(818) 761-4887 Fax: (818) 761-4887
Contact: firstname.lastname@example.org - Denise Fraser
email@example.com - Bill Dempsey Young
I had to LOL at what a jackass I am when I saw this thread.
On another thread, Gor referred to Mr.Baltazar as a HOF'er and I remember thinking, "Hey, I like him as much as the next guy but HOF?"
Damn if you aren't.
My sincerest congratulations to you, Mr.B. what an outstanding achievement, made even greater by the crew you're going in with. Can I get a Who's Who of the west coast? What an induction class, with Mr. Frank Baltazar deservedly right there.
Thanks for the congrat, I too said me? when Don Fraser call me with the news and he ask me if Iwould accept, I said to him " Are you crazy, hell yes"
I think only a fool would say no.
Tim,Originally Posted by timayres
Here is another quote from my wife that I thought was funny.
This morning I woke up around 3:30 am, so I got up and went to the living room to watch tv and have some coffee, I went back to bed around 5:00 am, and I was just laying in bed when my wife opens one eye and ask me "What the hell're you doing?"
About a couple of weeks ago we were talking, don't remember now what it was about, but I do remember her making this remark to me "You don't know much, do you? you wouldn't last ten minutes as a woman"
She's probably right, Frank. I don't know how long you'd last, but I don't think you'd get very far.
Took the big jump and made my reservations, Mr. Baltazar. Gee, I have a ticket and a hotel room, guess I'm going to Hollywood. You are the star I will be seeing.
Enjoy it all.
Hey Tim,Originally Posted by timayres
Just two weeks and we'll be there meeting, I take it that you will be coming down on Friday, I'll e-mail you my phone # and you can call me when you get to HOLLYWOOD, just be careful with those funny guys in Weirdland.
Last edited by kikibalt; 09-10-2007 at 09:16 PM.
I think I will be the weird one; I only drove to L.A. once to meet a girlfriend's family 20 years ago. I generally only go to the SF bay area. But you've provided a once in a lifetime opportunity for me, so I'm going to go for it.
I will stay a night on the way down to make the drive easier, so will get there some time Friday evening. Email me the # for sure. If I get in too late I'll just see you the next day. This is a huge deal, Frank. Very special weekend for you and your family and friends. I am honored you would want me to be part of it.
A tough but rewarding road
By Doug Krikorian, Staff columnist
Article Launched: 09/20/2007 06:11:32 AM PDT
Jimmy Harryman was a professional fighter for a while, going 9-3-1, and has engaged successfully in many street fights, though he points out he didn't seek them out. Another chapter of his active, colorful life will take place Saturday when he is inducted into the California Boxing Hall of Fame. (Jeff Gritchen / Press-Telegram)Jimmy Harryman was the original Ultimate Fighter, and tales of his unscheduled encounters in various venues across the years have become legendary.
He was a paratrooper who made 38 jumps and survived a crash in a C-47 that killed everyone in the front of the plane, as well as the person that was seated next to him.
He was a football player who was a star fullback at Compton College in 1954, played a season at the University of Washington that was cut short by a knee injury, played for a while with the Calgary Stampeders, and had unsuccessful tryouts with the Chicago Bears, San Diego Chargers, and Pittsburgh Steelers.
He was a serial participant in matrimony, although he has remained with the last of five wives, Kathy, for the past 28 years and calls her the only person he ever has feared.
He was a professional fighter who had 13 matches - he wound up 9-3-1 - and quit after the last one when he was stopped in the 10th round because of eye cuts by a party named George (Scrap Iron) Johnson, who would say of Harryman afterward, "Harryman ain't no fighter. He tried to play football in the ring."
He was a guy who never initiated trouble, but never backed away from it no matter the circumstances,
inspiring his boxing manager Lee Prlia to once say about him, "Jimmy's three times better in the street than he is in the ring."
He was banned for life from a San Pedro touch football league because of his roughhouse tactics that resulted in too many opponents winding up with too many bruises on their faces from too many of his punches.
"My life," he says softly, "has been stranger than a novel. They should do a movie on me, but they won't because it would be too outlandish. No one would believe it. A normal human being doesn't experience what I have - and live to tell about it."
Jimmy Harryman pauses a moment, this deceptively soft-spoken fellow who Saturday will be inducted into the California Boxing Hall of Fame along with, among others, Oscar De La Hoya and Sugar Shane Mosley at the Sportsman's Lodge in Studio City.
"It's just not all the street fights I've had, and there have been hundreds of them over the years," he says matter of factly.
"I've been so blessed in my life. Never been arrested. Never been seriously hurt. Been shot at several times. One time a guy pointed a gun right at me, pulled the trigger, and nothing happened. But something bad did happen after I got hold of him. Had guys come after me with knives.
"I somehow made it out of a deadly airplane crash when I was a paratrooper. Another time I was a passenger in a truck that crashed. I was thrown 37 feet and lived. The driver was killed. Another time, as I was driving on the Long Beach Freeway, a guy commits suicide by leaping over an overpass and landing right on my windshield. It smashes to bits, but, except for getting some glass on my face, I wasn't hurt. I've always been pretty lucky."
Jimmy Harryman is now 74, and recently retired from the docks in Wilmington where he worked for more than 50 years when he wasn't playing football, wasn't playing rugby, wasn't getting married and wasn't fighting, which he has done with uncommon success ever since he was a youngster growing up in the tough Willowbrook area near Watts where he had rumbles on almost a daily basis.
Indeed, it was Harryman's unsanctioned conflicts outside boxing rings that gained him his greatest notoriety, including a featured article entitled "King Of The Street Fighters" that appeared in a Nov. 6, 1966 issue of the old West Magazine in the Times.
After that, he became like one of those storied gun fighters in the Old West, as those seeking to make a reputation for themselves came down to the docks and sought him out.
"Guys were showing up from all over the country challenging," says Harryman, who later also was chronicled in Sport Magazine.
"And I beat every one of them. I considered myself a pretty good boxer - had a good right hand, left hook and uppercut - but I was much better as a street fighter. I had done it so often I knew all the tricks and it became second nature for me. I look at these mixed martial arts matches, and I would have been a natural in it. I could wrestle pretty good, but I was a much better boxer than these guys. Most of them don't know how to throw a punch."
Jimmy Harryman insists he never seeks confrontations, but that they just seem to have a knack for coming his way.
"A couple of years ago, I'm sitting in a movie theater in Carson, and I get up and signal to my wife where I'm sitting," relates Harryman. "And some guy sits down in her seat, and he's holding a baby. I tell the guy, `Pardon me, you're sitting in my wife's seat.' And the guy pulls a knife and asks me what I'm going to do about it. And my wife grabs me and insists we sit elsewhere. And I don't want to hit a guy with a baby, so I go along with her.
"After the movie, we're walking outside and the guy with the knife and a couple of his buddies are walking in the parking lot in front of us. And this one big guy keeps staring back at me. My wife, who still was upset about what happened in the theater, says, `What you lookin' at?' And now the big guy, and the guy with the knife and their buddy jump me and all hell breaks loose. My son happens to be at the theater, too, and he joins in. I knocked out two of the guys, including the guy with the knife who was without his baby. Cops soon came and told me to go home."
Stories such as this one abound from Harryman, who has flattened so many men across the years that he admits to this day he's paranoid about one showing up at his Ranchos Palos Verdes home to seek revenge.
"I always sleep with one eye open and make sure all our doors are locked," says Harryman. "You never know."
Still a tough guy
Now that Jimmy Harryman is a septuagenarian and no longer in prime shape - he spreads 229 pounds over his 5-foot-11 frame that for so long carried 205 pounds - you would think Harryman has mellowed.
He still likes to shadow box, and it's evident when he does that he still can deliver a crippling punch.
He still doesn't like big guys who converse loudly in tough language and swagger arrogantly around, and during the interview recently there was just such a person in the restaurant.
"See that guy walking around," he said, pointing to a huge fellow who cut an intimidating presence. "Believe me, in the past, he and I would have gotten into it. He wouldn't be acting so tough after I finished with him."
But Jimmy Harryman stresses that he's always been a sportsman in his fights.
"I never stomped on a guy after he was down," he says.
"That's not my style. After I deck him, I leave them where they lay and walk away."
Any time, any place
But, oh, did, Jimmy Harryman have his share of memorable debates in a variety of places - sporting fields, parties, bars, restaurants, movie houses, grocery stores, liquor stores, clothing stores, appliance stores, drive-ins, and, most of all, the docks.
One of the most famous ones, still heavily discussed by old longshoremen who witnessed it, came one afternoon when a truck driver didn't check with Harryman, a cargo clerk, before dumping a load of cotton in the wrong place.
"I asked the guy what the hell he was doing, and he answered in a very abusive manner," says Harryman. "The guy was huge, I'd say about 6-4 and 260 pounds with massive arms. I wasn't that physically imposing - I'm sure that's why so many big guys thought they could handle me - and the guy then asked me what I was going to do about it.
"Suddenly, the brawl was on. I'd say over a 100 guys had gathered around. It was like David versus Goliath. I never hit a guy with so many hard shots without the guy going down. Finally, after about 15 minutes, he went down to one knee and it was over. I hear he killed a guy several months later and went to prison."
Jimmy Harryman has broken too many jaws, cheekbones, noses, eye sockets to recount, yet he himself looks remarkably well for a person who has had such extensive combat, with only a trickle of scar tissue lining his eyes and a dented nose betraying his past activities.
Born to fight
In retrospect, Jimmy Harryman was preordained to be a fighter, since he grew up in a dysfunctional family in which his father, a brawling alcoholic, often used his fists on him, as well as his mother, who passed away when she was 29.
"My dad was not a nice man," he says. "When he wasn't beating up my mom, he was beating up me for coming to my mom's aid."
After the death of his mother, Harryman moved in with his grandmother, near 119th and Springdale in Willowbrook.
"I was forced to fight almost every day as a kid, and I soon discovered I was good at it," he says.
Jimmy Harryman has five children - four sons and a daughter - and 10 grandchildren from his marriages.
He also has a stepdaughter, Melissa Bebich, who dotes on him as does her mother, who has been able to do something no other human being has achieved.
"My wife keeps me calm and restrained," he says.
But only to a certain extent.
"I might now be old," says Jimmy Harryman, his eyes twinkling. "But I'd have a surprise for some young guy who makes a mistake and mouths off to me and calls my number. I still won't walk away from a beef no matter who the person is."
Doug Krikorian can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org
great story Frank. Do you know this guy?
No I don't, but I did see him fight.Originally Posted by iskigoe
By Robert Morales
The California Boxing Hall of Fame will play host to its annual induction banquet on Saturday at Sportsmen's Lodge in Studio City. All 516 tickets have been sold.
The list of fighters to be enshrined includes Oscar De La Hoya, "Sugar" Shane Mosley, Fernando Vargas, Albert "Tweety" Davila, Art Frias, Chicanito Hernandez, Armando Muniz, San Pedro heavyweight Jimmy "Wildman" Harryman and former amateur standout Richard "Cali" Martinez of Los Angeles. A fighter does not have to be retired to make this Hall.
Posthumous inductees will include fighters Diego "Chico" Corrales and Henry Armstrong, trainer Larry Soto and Howard Steindler, the longtime owner of the Main St. Gym in Los Angeles. He was murdered in March 1977. As of today, no one has been charged with the crime.
Last edited by evander; 09-22-2007 at 07:14 PM.
I just got back home from the "CBHOF", and I have some pics. that I'll be posting as soon as I get a little rest.
Originally Posted by evander
Dempsey-Tunney fight owns this date
California’s boxing hall of fame will hold its induction ceremony on the 80th anniversary of boxing’s ‘Long Count’ bout, which gave the sports world one of its most memorable moments on the same day that the Dodgers’ Lasorda was born.
September 22, 2007
Upon further review, something even bigger than the birth of Tom Lasorda happened on this day, 80 years ago. History should label Sept. 22, 1927, as a day of fantasy and fisticuffs.
While Lasorda was emerging into a world that he would soon see only in shades of Dodger blue, a famous boxer was losing a match that would make him even more famous and beloved than if he had won.
In front of a crowd of 104,943 that was probably closer to 125,000 by the time the ushers and cops had finished sneaking all their relatives into massive Soldier Field on Lake Michigan's waterfront, Gene Tunney beat Jack Dempsey to retain his heavyweight title.
It was the legendary "Long Count" fight, and despite the passage of time, it remains among boxing's most celebrated moments, even though nobody flew into the ring in a machine powered by a fan or bit off anybody's ear.
In 1927, the Dempsey-Tunney rematch was a super bowl of sports interest, a Yankees-Red-Sox playoff series multiplied by 10. Dempsey had held the heavyweight title for seven-plus years, from 1919 to 1926, and Tunney had taken it from him 364 days earlier in a fight before an announced 120,757 in a stadium in Philadelphia called Sesquicentennial.
According to Mel Heimer's 1969 book, "The Long Count," the gate for the 1926 fight was an unheard-of $1,895,723. A year later, the rematch brought higher ticket prices and a gate of $2,658,660.
The rematch drew 1,200 press credentials. Bus drivers around Times Square in New York City sold seats for 50 cents to people wanting to sit and listen to the radio. The warden at the New Jersey State Prison allowed all his detainees radio access, except for the four men on death row.
It remains enough of a big deal that it will be a centerpiece of today's California Boxing Hall of Fame induction ceremony luncheon at Sportsmen's Lodge in Studio City. Among the boxers going into the Hall will be Oscar De La Hoya, Shane Mosley, Fernando Vargas and Genaro Hernandez, as well as the late Diego "Chico" Corrales, whose wife, Michelle, will accept his award.
Because longtime promoter Don Fraser runs this event, and has an appreciation for his sport's history, Dempsey-Tunney and the "Long Count" will be the backdrop.
"I had forgotten the exact year until I came across it, paging through some books," said Fraser, who turned 80 himself in January. "When I saw that, I knew it was perfect, and I grabbed the date for our Hall of Fame."
To prepare for the event, Fraser enlisted the help of actor and boxing historian J.J. Johnston, a veteran of 35 movies, 55 TV shows, three Broadway plays and hundreds of hours watching film of the "Long Count" fight.
"Tunney outboxed him from the start, just like he did the year before," Johnston said.
"Dempsey was one of the greatest champions ever, but he let too much time slip by between fights, and he wasn't in the shape he once was when he got around to fighting Tunney."
Dempsey was from a poor family of mixed Irish descent who grew up in Manassa, Colo. The ninth child, he was fun, outgoing, bigger than life. When he became champion, he gravitated more toward the bright lights of Hollywood and less toward the harsh, early morning light of training camp. Dempsey fought to 75 decisions, winning 60, losing six and having nine end in a draw, according to Jack Cavanaugh's book "Tunney."
Tunney, also of Irish descent, grew up in a flat over a grocery store in Manhattan and began his boxing career in the Marines. In the service, he learned a training work ethic that kept him fit through all 86 of his fights, only one of them a loss. Less outgoing, he read Shakespeare, enjoyed poetry and was sneered at by Dempsey before their first fight in '26.
"I'm gonna beat that big bookworm," Heimer quotes Dempsey as saying.
Johnston said that a key moment was before the fight started, when referee Dave Barry told the fighters that new rules dictated the count for a knockdown would not start until the standing fighter got to a neutral corner. Dempsey, a true brawler, had been known to stand over fallen prey and pounce again the moment the count ended and the victim rose.
Both fighters nodded agreement and went for six rounds without that mattering. Then came the seventh.
"Tunney made a mistake, and Dempsey hurt him with a good punch," Johnston said.
Five or six punches quickly followed and, as Heimer wrote, Tunney "collapsed like a building falling to the wrecker's ball."
But Dempsey didn't move to a neutral corner, standing nearby instead. Barry ordered him to do so. By most estimates, it took four or five seconds to get Dempsey to where he was supposed to be -- after a shove in that direction by Barry -- and it was not until then that Barry began the count. The knockdown timekeeper, Paul Beeler, later estimated that Tunney was down for at least a 14 count.
"That extra time gave Tunney, a very smart guy, time to clear his head," Johnston said. "You can see it. By the time Barry's count began, he was already starting to clear his head. I have no question that, even without the extra time, he would have gotten up and won the fight, like he did."
Tunney got up at nine, knocked down Dempsey in the eighth, and went on to finish his two-fight domination of one of the best and most-famous boxers of all time. For his troubles, Tunney became the goat, the guy who was lucky to win the fight. Many sportswriters wrote it that way, the public bought it, and the "Long Count" fight became legend.
Tunney fought once more and quit, becoming a wealthy corporate executive and father of former Sen. John V. Tunney of California. Gene Tunney died in 1978 at 81.
Dempsey struggled on for a few more fights, mostly exhibitions, until he lost a four-rounder to a colorful Chicago fighter named Kingfish Levinsky, who was managed by his sister, Leapin' Lena. Dempsey stayed active and public through his restaurant in Times Square, Jack Dempsey's, which closed in 1974. He died in 1983 at 87.
Barry continued to referee, but for years after, he was greeted by fans who would rise and, in unison, count to 14.
Bill Dwyre can be reached at email@example.com.
I haven't been in this forum for a while, so it was only this afternoon that I learned about the induction. I read it on fightnews.com. Congratulations!