Tell me about Denny Moyer

Here is an article that was written by boxing historian Enrique Encinosa shortly after Luis Rodriguez died, I came accross a moment ago and would like to share it with all of you.

A Champion's Funeral

Mourners began arriving at the Bernardo Garcia-Brake Funeral Home in the early evening, while the Miami sun still bathed Seventh Street with a dim light.

In the lobby, a black board with plastic stick-on letters announced that the mortal remains of Luis Manuel Rodriquez could be viewed in Room Nine.

Frankie Otero, former junior lightweight contender stood next to me as we gazed down on a withered corpse, neatly dressed in suit and tie.

The body in the casket had a stone expression.

"It doesn't look like Luis," Frankie said.

"It's because he's not smiling," I answered, "you are not used to seeing him not smiling."

I turned away. I did to want to remember him like this, crated for eternal sleep.

The first time I saw him, I was a little kid, and he, a dozen years older, was then a young pro, undefeated in Havana rings. He stood on the sidewalk and performed for the children who recognized him, shadowboxing, soft shoe dancing and capping off the performance with an opera aria sung with a clear, crisp voice. Then, he shook our hands and walked away, laughing. He was cool.

Luis Manuel Rodriguez was born in Camaguey, in Western Cuba in 1937. By the time he was eighteen he had won several televised talent shows, as a dancer and crooner. He had also become Cuba's top amateur boxing talent, winning the national amateur title with ten straight knockouts.

He was a natural. Luis Rodriguez with his thin legs, round chest, wide nose and flashing smile did not look intimidating, but the black welterweight from Camaguey was a slick boxer with a crisp punch, dazzling speed and a cement chin.

Rodriguez turned pro two weeks before his nineteenth birthday. In thirty months he racked up eighteen wins and one no-contest, a bout stopped by rain at an outdoor arena. His undefeated ledger shows two wins over another young prospect also destined to wear a championship belt, Benny Paret, a knockout over spoiler Charlie Austin, a triumph over future British Empire Middleweight Champion Gomeo Brennan, and a clear victory of fringe contender Kid Fichique.

The year 1959 was sweet. Luis out-slicked former welterweight king Virgil Atkins, and scored six other wins over top-rated fighters. Joe Miceli, a veteran of over a hundred bouts was stopped in five, Cecil Shorts was finished off in nine. Isaac Logart was outboxed in ten.

The time was coming to leave Cuba. Fidel Castro was executing opponents by the thousands and laying out the foundations of a Marxist dictatorship. Luis Rodriguez headed to Miami, where thousands of his fellow countrymen had sought exile over political repression.

In the three year period from 1960-1962 he fought twenty-five times. He lost two close fights with Emile Griffith and Curtis Cokes, while outscoring Cokes in a rematch. He beat former champion Akins a second time, out-pointed and stopped middleweight Yama Bahama in two matches, knocked out tough Gene Armstrong in a televised bout, outfoxed top rated Federico Thompson and Chico Vejar, and became the first fighter to stop brawler Ricardo Falech.

In his corner, the flashy Cuban had a trio of legendary fight men: Angelo Dundee, Luis Sarria and Ferdie Pacheco.

"He was an incredible fighter," Ferdie Pacheco often told me, "Luis could fight on the inside or from a distance. He could attack or counter punch. He had a test jab and he would fire quick shots to the body then switch to the head. He slipped punches with ease, and he was very difficult to hit. Even when one could nail him in a solid shot, the follow up was impossible. Luis would slip and dance and bob and weave. If you were really good, you could hit Luis Rodriguez a clean shot, but it was almost impossible to nail him twice in a row. . ."

“Ali studied Luis,” Angelo Dundee said, “When Luis was sparring you would see Ali watching, studying how Luis would step in and throw an uppercut or how he would move at an angle to make the guy miss. Ali respected Luis because Luis was the complete package. He could box outside or fight inside or at middle distance. Luis was a complete fighter.”

When Pacheco went on a ten city radio tour to promote his books, he was invariably asked who was the best fighter -besides Ali- that he had ever worked with and the answer over the radio, on ten occasions was: Luis Rodriguez.

"At the Fifth Street Gym," Frankie Otero remembers, "Luis sparred with fighters that were ten, twenty, thirty pounds heavier. Guys like Florentino Fernandez and Willie Pastrano, and Luis was trouble for anyone."

The greatest moment of his life came in Los Angeles, in 1963, when Rodriguez outscored nemesis Emile Griffith to win the welterweight crown. Less than three months later, Rodriquez lost his title in a hotly disputed fifteen rounder in New York, Griffith's hometown.

"I won the fight and lost the championship," Rodriguez stated several years ago, "It was New York. You need a flamethrower to beat Griffith in New York."

Rodriguez was not one to shine about a defeat. Nine weeks after losing the crown, he squared off against Denny Moyer in a Miami Beach ring. Moyer, a former junior middleweight champion, was a veteran of forty-six pro fights. Moyer had wins over a distinguished group of champions including Emile Griffith, Johnny Saxton, Virgil Akins, Sugar Ray Robinson, Benny Paret and Tony De Marco. The Oregon fighter had never been stopped.

Luis Rodriguez turned the trick. The Cuban out boxed Moyer, winning the lion's share of the first eight rounds. Attacking sometimes and countering others, Rodriguez decked Moyer in the ninth, stopping the Portland fighter.

"The Moyer fight was a magnificent performance," remembers Hank Kaplan, "then Luis had another heartbreak squeaker with Griffith. But what was really amazing was the way Luis plowed right through the middleweights. He fought the top fighters in the world in their backyards, spotted them ten or fifteen pounds, and licked them. Those that wanted a second shot, he gave a rematch, and licked them again."

Ruben Carter was the most feared middleweight in the world. The muscled, skull shaved, Fu Manchu mustachioed ex-convict had scored clean first round knockouts over Emile Griffith and Florentino Fernandez. The thin welterweight from Cuba fought Carter twice, winning both.

Skeeter McClure was a full-fledged unbeaten middleweight, a Gold Medalist from the 1960 Olympic Games. Luis decked McClure and beat him twice.

George Benton was a top contender that champions avoided. The crafty and solid punching Benton was no match for Rodriguez. Benton was stopped on cuts, for the first time in his career, in the ninth.

Rocky Rivero was a knockout puncher who had fought two wars with Joey Giardello. Rodriguez beat him easily over ten rounds.

Benny Briscoe was the hottest prospect in the middleweights, a tough left hooker from Philadelphia, destined to fight a draw with Carlos Monzon. Rodriguez beat Briscoe twice.

Future light heavyweight king Vicente Rondon won the first bout but Rodriguez won the second match.

"Luis was unfazed," remembers Hank Kaplan, "he was never bothered by how big a fighter was or how many knockouts he had. . . he was a welterweight fighting middleweights and light-heavies, and if they would have let him, he would have fought Ali. Luis Rodriguez belongs in the Boxing Hall of Fame."

After losing on cuts to Curtis Cokes in a title bout, Rodriguez had concentrated on the pursuit of the middleweight crown. On November 22, 1969, he toed the scratch against Nino Benvenuti, in Rome.
For ten rounds, Rodriguez outfoxed the Italian. He seemed headed for a second title belt, until a desperate Benvenuti threw a tremendous left hook that exploded against Luis' chin in the eleventh round. Rodriguez was stopped cold.

"It was the best punch Benvenuti ever threw," Luis Sarria once told me, "and when it landed, I knew it was over That punch would have knocked down a heavyweight."

Luis Rodriguez continued fighting for three more years. He still beat some top fighters, losing and winning to Jose Gonzalez, out pointing Bobby Cassidy and knocking out Tony Mundine. Back to back losses to club fighter Mike Lancaster and prospect Donato Paduano, convinced the thirty-four year old Rodriguez to hang up the eight-ouncers.

His 107-13-1 record included 49 knockout wins, and only 3 kayo losses.

After retirement he had trained amateur boxers, owned a bar, worked in a warehouse, and discovered booze. The last two years of his life were a nightmare of dialysis treatments. He was fifty-nine years old when death came to him in a Miami Beach hospital, near the Miami Beach Convention Center, where he had beaten Denny Moyer and a score of other good fighters.

Near the coffin there was a painting of a young Luis Rodriguez, wearing a title belt and boxing trunks. It was a Ferdie Pacheco original, brought by the fight doctor as a gift to the family.

In the picture, Luis was smiling.

 

Indeed, and the really sad thing is that most fighters have storys like that one instead of good ones once they hang up the gloves.

 

Craig, Thank you very much for taking the time and putting up these great stories. Much appreciated!

 

This content is protected

DAMAGED GOODS
Documentary exposes harsh reality of life after boxing

By STEVE BUFFERY

Last Updated: 20th July 2009, 4:03am



There is a scene in the documentary "After The Last Round" when an old man named Harry Moyer wanders over to his son Phil and begins to wipe Phil's face with a tissue, precisely as he would have done years earlier when Phil was boxing and Harry was his trainer.
Phil suffers from dementia and stares past his father, unfocussed and lost.
"You're all right," whispers Harry to his aging son.
Phil, however, clearly is not all right.
In his 90s, Harry is in much better shape than Phil and his other son Denny, who also was a world-ranked fighter out of Portland, Ore., in the 1950s and '60s.
The camera then pans out to show Denny and Phil sitting in adjoining chairs, starring blankly ahead, brothers bound by the brutal sport of boxing and the wretched consequences the so-called "sweet science" exacts on those who embrace it.
Everyone who has ever watched a round of boxing generally is aware that the sport is -- particularly at the professional level -- dangerous and potentially lethal. But what we don't see is what happens to these damaged fighters after they walk away from the ring.
Denny and Phil Moyer were legends in the Portland area, world-ranked middleweights, charismatic and handsome.
Now, they are broken, suffering from dementia, living together at a nursing home, in need of constant care, their conditions deteriorating.
Laura Moyer, Phil's daughter, describes how when they first took her father to the home, the tough ex-fighter, who fought the very best of his day, including Sugar Ray Robinson, began crying.
"He said: 'Please don't leave me here,' " said Laura, breaking down in tears. "But we couldn't take care of him anymore."
The executive producer of After The Last Round is Tom Moyer, a cousin of Denny and Phil.
Now a resident of Santa Barbara, Calif., Tom grew up in Portland, where the Moyers were the first family of boxing. Tom's father also trained Phil and Denny. But what was once a source of pride for the family has turned into tragedy. And not just because of Denny and Phil's dementia. Harry also is a victim, as he spends his remaining days dealing with the fact that he put his boys in the ring and is, in a way, the architect of their demise.
Decades later, having witnessed his cousins' downward spiral, Tom Moyer encouraged his own son Patrick and Patrick's friend, the filmmaker Ryan Pettey, to take put together a documentary, not just about the Moyer family, but on what happens to fighters after the final bell has sounded.
Patrick is the film's producer and Pettey the director.
The film shows that not only are many ex-professional fighters, perhaps even the majority, damaged goods, most are destitute, or nearly there -- cast away like broken toys, treated worse than greyhound dogs.
There is no pension for ex-fighters. Most walk away with nothing, in fact, less than nothing, because they leave boxing with less than what they had going in.
After The Last Round profiles boxers who are in the advanced state of dementia, or blind, or broke, but also examines why some fighters, including many who waged tremendous wars in the ring and absorbed untold punishment -- such as Canadian heavyweight legend George Chuvalo -- have survived seemingly unscathed, at least physically.
Tom Moyer is justifiably proud of the film, but equally frustrated, as he is attempting to have the movie included in this year's Toronto International Film Festival. But as of yet, he has had no luck.
Near the end of the documentary, the camera focuses on Denny's wife, Sandy.
"He's living over there, but really he's dead," she says of her husband. "And nobody cares. Frankly, nobody ever will care. But I care."
Tom Moyer's reason for producing After the Last Round, and for pushing for its inclusion in this year's TIFF, is so more people will care.

This content is protected

 

This has turned into a corker of a thread. Great stuff.

 

Its my pleasure man, I`ve got tons more to share too and I`ve decided I`ll just post them all here in this thread wether they are Moyer related or not. Now here is a fresh one for you guys:

Hedgemon Lewis came out to Southern California and was setting the place on fire. People were comparing him to Sugar Ray Robinson. It was only a matter of time that they'd match him with Indian Red to settle who's boss. They fought a 3 fight series,Indian Red stopping Lewis twice, Hedge winning a decision. I always thought Red was too strong for Lewis.

Well the problem for both these guys is they couldn't get past Napoles. So both of them were more or less in contention still.

After fighting Lopez,Lewis is on a comeback trail. He gets a match in Tijuana to fight Raul Rodriguez. A pretty fair welter,but not in Hedgemon's league. The fight is going to be at the Jai Lai Palace on Revolution Street.
I talk a buddy to come with me and we sit ringside for 20 bucks. The pre lims are pretty good and it looks like a good night for the fights.

I'm sitting next to this Mexican kid. He looks like he's around 14 or 15. We're fast becoming friends. He's there with his father and uncles,and I tell him my wife is a Mexican national(all this in Spanish) and he's having a real good time. First time at a boxing match. A nice mannered kid.

Just before the main event with Lewis,this entourage of some 10 or 15 people come strolling in and sit across from us at ringside. Well I know they're not from TJ because they're all blonde with blue eyes. It's Hedgemon Lewis's Hollywood friends and management group. I think they called themselves The January Corporation. I'm focusing in and I see Ryan O'Neal,Farrah Fawcett, Chris Connelly,and some other celebrities, and brother do they stand out. Really FAB and glamourus. What in the hell did they think they were getting into? To sign autographs?

Well in the upper deck where the real "aficianados" sit,you can hear the "chifles"(Mexican whistling). You can't see these guys up there because it's so dark,but believe me they're up there and it's not the Sisters of Guadalupe.


The announcer is introducing the fighters. "Una pelea de diezrauuuuuuuonds!" Then a funny thing happened . The kid next to me asks me what goes on in those bars on Revolution Street. I looked at him for a moment. He didn't know? So I told him. The kid put his head down and gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the night.

Now I get a funny feeling. The bell sounds and Lewis is putting his left in Rodriguez's face like it belongs there. In round two Lewis is following the left with his right and Rodriguez is in trouble. Rodriguez's eye splits,Lewis has him hanging on the ropes,and I'm getting blood splatters all over my pants and shirt. The referee breaks up the slaughter and stops it. I turn to my pal and say "Duck". He gives me a puzzled look as a beer bottle explodes against the ring post. Glass and beer is flying all over the place. The "aficianados" are gonna' get their revenge. I look up and the "Beautifull People" across from us are running like crazy towards the exits along with Lewis and Eddie Futch. They didn't stop to sign autographs.

I asked Roger if Hedge even bothered to collect his paychek and he said:

You know,I never thought about that. Good one. I saw the same thing happen at the bullring when Davey Moore stopped Kid Irapuato. Moore jumps out of the ring with his robe and gloves still on ,runs outside,and flags a cab to the border. I think money was the last thing on their minds.

 

Moyer vs Sugar Ray Robinson

[ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgZo12y4qhw&feature=related[/ame]

 

Speaking of the Moyer brothers I gotta say that Phil Moyer was a very, very good boxer as well, maybe even better than his brother although he lacked his brothers durability and longevity.

I`ve got his first bout vs Floro Fernandez and he completely outclassed the Cuban in the first three rounds, I mean it was a beautiful boxing display, he kept turning Floro and making him go off balance and lunging with his punches while Phil just smashed that ramrod jab in his face time and again and quickly got out of hamrs way with some nifty footwork.

It looked like he was on his way to a shutout until Floro poleaxed him with a short left hook towards the end of the 4th and dropped him like a bad habit, Phil never got his legs or senses back after that trip to the deck and was stopped in the next round. But up until the KD Phil looked as good a boxer as I have ever seen, and I`ve seen plenty.

 

In the mid 70s there was an undefeated middleweight from Chicago that some of you here might remember named Rocky Defazio. His people brought Denny Moyer in as an opponnent to look good on his record. Well Moyer must have forgot to read the script because DiFazio was made to look like such an one-dimensional amateur to Moyer who was like 35 at the time. Denny kicked his ass and kod him in ten, and that was at the very end of Dennys long career. Although the hometowner lost, everyone had just seen a masterful exhibition of boxing and appreciated it. DeFazio was never down, just pelted by every jab, uppercut, hook and cross that came his way. After the Doc stopped the fight before the 10th round, Rocky walked back to his dressing room right past me, and man, his eye was gruesome. Closed tighter than a drum. Defazio fought maybe once after that and retired shortly afterwards.

 

THE JAB

When Luis Rodriguez came to San Diego to train for his fight the Mexican Middle Weight Champ Rafael Gutierrez, the sand was draining out of his hour glass. He'd been climbing in and out of a ring amateur and pro for almost twenty years. He had put on poundage to fight middle weights though his frame still looked welter. Seeing the old Cuban train in sunny San Diego looked peculiar. Even though San Diego is a spin up the freeway from Mexico,Louie seemed not at home at all. Besides, his opponent was Mexican. The crowd that would attend the fight at the Sports Arena wouldn't be cheering for the Cuban.

Both arrived at the Stardust Hotel two weeks prior. They were training down. Angelo showed up. He was the Rah Rah guy in Rodriguez's camp. He didn't teach Louie how to fight. Besides showmanship,I often wondered what role Angelo had with the Cubans. Mantequilla,Sugar Ramos,and El Feo.

Louie wasn't comfortable in San Diego. He didn't know anyone. Jose Napoles came to visit. He seemed to be his only compadre. Rodriguez was also frustrated with the caliber of sparring partners. Some of them didn't want Louie to mix it with them. One of them,a local middle weight Johnny Wise,didn't want Louie to hit him in the face. Rodriguez got upset with him and told him in abrusive Spanish to put on his head gear and shut up. I remember Louie doubled him up with a shot to the solar plexus.Talk about rubbing it in.

I was mesmerized how skilled the old Cuban was inside the ropes. Everything came of his jab. His defense was his jab. His offense. Combinations flowed after he jumped his left in his opponent's face. He'd finish his body attack and his bolo punches with a left hand to the face. He'd break an easy sweat. He never looked to be happy while he was in San Diego.

The fight was very tough for him. He was not a big middle weight.Rafa was the stronger fighter. Gutierrez was ahead in the fight, when in the sixth frame Louie feignted with his jab and then hooked off it. A one punch knock out.

Oh yeh. Sometimes he didn't even have to throw that jab to get the results he wanted.

 

Crap in the box . . .

I'm happy you pointed out that Angelo Dundee didn't teach Luis Rodriguez, or any of the Cubans. Dundee has his strong points, he's good in the corner. He's confident, organized, can stop minor bleeding if he has to, and can be a good motivator. He's also good with the press who have labeled him a great trainer, due to his place in Ali's camp, as well as the Cubans and Sugar Ray Leonard.

He was Miami promoter Chris Dundee's younger brother, that was his connection. That's how he hooked up with the Cuban's and Ali.

Leonard's trainer was Janks Morton. Dundee would come to camp a few days before a fight to shmooze the press, Leonard's attempt to link his image to the greatness of Ali. Dundee was paid a flat rate, a good payday for sure, but not a standard percentage.

Boxing people that I have known, top boxing men, don't consider Angelo a trainer or a teacher. I have often used an expression to describe trainers who are incompetent teachers, it was one I heard a top trainer use in reference to Dundee:

"He couldn't teach a cat to crap in a box."

 

The Moyer-Monzon stoppage was more than just unpopular. It was very controversial at the time because Moyer was still on his feet and defending himself when the referee stopped the fight. Afterwards it was discovered that the supposedly impartial referee had flown to the scene of the fight with Monzon and was seen at the airport after the fight with Monzon and even carrying Monzon's bags...

 

P.S. The first Moyer-Robinson bout was a controversial decision win for Robinson which I have no problem with. I felt Robinson deserved the decision. The second bout was closer but I felt Robinson got jobbed on that one. Watch the bodyshots Robinson repeatedly folds Moyer in half with. Beautiful work by a far past his prime former great.

 

Here is a short story about Jake LaMotta by my pal Roger (most of the storys I will be posting in this thread are courtesy of him) long after he retired, I still get a chuckle whenever I read it:

I saw LaMotta on a talk show on TV with Mike Tyson when Tyson was killing everybody. Jake's sitting next to him wearing this cowboy hat.(The Dago from the Bronx with the cowboy hat). Jake interrupts what ever Tyson is talking about and says with a big grin ,"You know Mike,you have a voice like a little girl. You're the Heavyweight Champ of the World and yet you have a little girl's voice."
LaMotta's looking right at Tyson smiling.
You could hear a pin drop. Tyson is fumbling for something to say while Jake is still looking at his face.
"Yes,my voice has always been like that."
Jake slaps Tyson on the back and says,"But you're one hell of a fighter."

:rofl