The Travelin' Man Goes to the Florida Boxing Hall Of Fame
by Lee Groves, (originally published on maxboxing.com) November 13-16, 2009
Chances to get in on the ground floor of something worthwhile are rare in life. When that certain "something" blossoms into a tradition, those who were there at the very beginning can point out that fact with pride in the hopes of appearing insightful and prescient to others. More often than not, however, traditions are created from forces beyond any one person’s control. Rather, they are the result of a collective mindset that an event or pursuit is worthy of being celebrated year after year.
That was Ed Brophy’s hope when he spearheaded the creation of the International Boxing Hall of Fame. Two decades after its inception the Induction Weekend held every second weekend in June in Canastota, N.Y. has become a touchstone of the boxing calendar just like Cooperstown’s for baseball, Canton’s for the NFL and Springfield’s for the NBA.
Like Brophy with the IBHOF, Walter "Butch" Flansburg is the driving force behind the Florida Boxing Hall of Fame, which elected its inaugural 22-member class earlier this year and organized its first induction weekend in Tampa.
"I was born in Utica, N.Y. and grew up in Syracuse," Flansburg said. "I knew Ed Brophy, how he operated the International Boxing Hall of Fame and why it was a success and I thought ‘why can’t we do it here?’ I had been talking about it for years with (longtime referee) Brian Garry. So there was a meeting between Brian, Steve Canton, Sam Cohen, my wife Kathy and myself and the first thing we did we put on a dinner in June and it was very successful."
How successful? Flansburg had hoped to draw 75 to break even but the event ended up attracting 300. Many aspects of the FBHOF’s program have been borrowed from Canastota such as the book and memorabilia show, book signings, autograph opportunities, celebrity workouts, fist castings, ringside lectures, a silent auction, a gala dinner and breakfast with the inductees.
"(Canastota) was a huge influence," Flansburg said. "If you like boxing, you can see the best fighters in the world up there. I got to see my family and the Boxing Hall of Fame at the same time. There were 1,500 people and between 50 and 100 champions at the dinner. Our goal is to have a museum of our own like Canastota and I think it will become a reality.
We will need heavy-duty people to step up to help us and we’ll try to secure a grant to get our own building. I would like it to be in Channelside and I hope it will happen in between 18 months and two years from now. As for the dinner I’d like to see between 900 and 1,000 people next year."
Although Tampa is a far larger city than the humble hometown of Carmen Basilio and Billy Backus, the scope understandably has yet to match that of the IBHOF. All the events took place either at the host hotel (the Howard Johnson’s Plaza Hotel) or the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center located directly across the street.
What is similar is that special brand of energy that only comes when boxing people get together.
As was the case for Canastota in its debut year, the FBHOF’s charter class is stacked with the state’s most prominent names. Fighters include Luis Rodriguez, Ralph Dupas, Willie Pastrano, Florentino Fernandez, Wilfredo Vazquez Sr. and Pinklon Thomas while manager/trainers Angelo Dundee, Steve Canton and Jimmy Williams joined them. Also among the 22 inductees are promoters Chris Dundee and Felix "Tuto" Zabala Sr., historians Hank Kaplan and Irv Abramson, officials Brian Garry and Max Parker Jr., and non-participants Mark Beiro, Marty Cohen, Johnny Bos, Bobby Goodman, Rick Folstad, Dr. Allan Fields and Dr. Ferdie Pacheco. Six members of this class have already been enshrined in Canastota and Vazquez has a shot of becoming the seventh.
By the way, it was Canton who alerted me about the festivities by way of e-mail in early October. We first met more than a decade ago during one of the IBHOF weekends and our mutual love of boxing sparked an almost instantaneous friendship. Over the years Canastota would serve as our annual reunion but in recent years health issues prevented him from making the trip. When I heard he was to be one of the inductees I rang him up to personally congratulate him and during the course of our conversation he persuaded me to come to Tampa. After getting the OK from CompuBox president Bob Canobbio, I turned my attention to travel arrangements.
Upon arrival I called the Howard Johnson’s to summon a shuttle, which arrived 20 minutes later. As soon as I told the driver the purpose of my presence we instantly launched into a conversation about the next night’s showdown between Miguel Cotto and Manny Pacquiao. Cotto had his training camp in Tampa and the driver just happened to be the one who shuttled Cotto’s sparring partners around. Although he was of Puerto Rican extraction, he thought Pacquiao’s speed would lead him to a unanimous decision victory.
I had planned to rest for a couple of hours after checking in, but the moment I hit the door I walked into a cauldron of activity. The lobby was already filled with boxing people, several of whom were inductees. A live three-hour radio show hosted by Frank Allen was devoted to the event, which told me that those in charge of getting the word out had done their job well. Meanwhile, my buddy Steve Canton was engaged in conversation with fellow trainer and honoree Jimmy Williams, who was attired in a sharp-looking suit, and former WBC heavyweight champion Pinklon Thomas, who at age 51 was at least 15 pounds lighter than his glory days but was astonishingly athletic and trim. As is my custom I instantly dove into the conversation and it would be 20 minutes before I was able to break myself away and go through the formalities of check-in.
After stowing my bags in my 12th floor room – one conveniently placed just steps from the elevator – I returned to the lobby and flitted from conversation to conversation. Over the next several hours Williams (who bears a strong facial resemblance to Deacon Jones but lacks his considerable size) and I formed a bond. Soon he was demonstrating all sorts of boxing moves; how to fight a southpaw, how a southpaw can fight a right-handed fighter, how to teach a fighter in the gym, the importance of angles and positioning, how to deliver blows with proper leverage and so on. Every so often he poked my body with a finger or a palm and based on where and how he struck I knew he was intimately familiar with the location of pressure points. Even at age 81, his most gentle strikes had impact. His crystal clear explanations and sometimes-painful tutorials were educational on many levels, even to someone that has studied and appreciated boxing for nearly 36 years. Based on my brief time with him, there was no doubt the electors had made a wise choice.
Veteran matchmaker Johnny Bos, one of the sport’s great characters as well as an accomplished matchmaker, soon joined the conversation and he regaled us with stories only a life-long insider could tell. He received a call from another great character, Emanuel Augustus, and he surprised me by giving me his cell and allowing me to speak with "The Drunken Master" for a few minutes.
With all the conversations buzzing in the lobby, the cocktail party that was to be held at an adjacent conference room began about a half-hour late. Even though sandwiches and other assorted snacks were served, the event’s greatest appeal was the opportunity to discuss boxing in a room filled with knowledgeable and enthusiastic people.
The room was dotted with several pieces of boxing-themed artwork by Dr. Pacheco as well as photos of Ali taken by Pacheco’s wife of 39 years, Luisita. In other parts of the room were a bronze bust of Ali and several autographed paintings of "The Greatest" by other artists. The highlight of the cocktail took place when Dr. Pacheco was presented with a giant montage of personal photographs scanned by his wife and put together by artist Cash McMahon that depicted not only his life in boxing but also his career as a physician and artist. It was truly a labor of love and brought home the depth and breadth of a life well lived.
The event broke up around 10:30 p.m. – long past the time printed on the event sheet I carried with me –but the extra time was well spent. The boxing talk spilled over into the lobby and in the end it was Steve, his brother Chris and myself who were the last to leave for our rooms. As is often the case with me during my Canastota visits, it took a considerable amount of time before I could settle down enough to attempt sleep. I was largely unsuccessful, for it was just after 1:30 a.m. before I switched off the light and well after 2 a.m. before I finally dropped off.
After just one event I had already rendered my verdict – if I am so blessed to be given the opportunity to return next year and the years after that, I would make every effort to do so. The events of the next two days would further cement that decision.
From 8:30 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. the Howard Johnson Plaza Hotel in Tampa hosted a whirlwind of events – a memorabilia show, book signings, celebrity workouts, a fist-casting ceremony and ringside lectures.
The format followed closely the one adopted by Canastota, though the action was decidedly more free flowing than the tightly scheduled IBHOF. I packed my notebook and three books I wished to have signed – the two written by Angelo Dundee ("I Only Talk Winning" and "A View From the Corner") and my trusty copy of Harry Mullan’s "The Great Book of Boxing" – and headed downstairs to begin my adventure.
It began in the dining room where I joined Steve Canton, his brother Chris and friends Mike Mikulan and Larry Smith (who defeated Joe Frazier as an amateur) for breakfast. As usual, Steve and I engaged in a fast-paced give-and-take about boxing history, the great names that occupy it and how Manny Pacquiao would have stacked up against the legends encompassing 118 through 147. When the dust settled, we agreed that there were at least three dozen names that could have given Pacquiao a difficult night if not an outright defeat. But the fact that the "Pac Man" was even in the conversation is a tribute to just how much he has accomplished in his era, one that offers precious few chances to stake one’s claim in the pantheon.
I then headed over to the conference room where the cocktail had been held the previous evening and where the multiplicity of events would be held throughout the morning and early afternoon.
With my list of missing Ring magazines in hand, I sifted through Johnny Bos’ collection of 1980s’ editions and filled 23 gaps at $3 per pop. As I returned to my hotel room to store my stash another concern popped to mind: Did I have enough space in my bag to take them home with me? Following a moment of reflection, I decided to put that issue aside in favor of enjoying the here and now.
After returning downstairs I indulged fully in the swirl of activity. At one faraway corner were the fist castings, which were conducted whenever an inductee happened to venture toward the area instead of having them done at a certain place or time. At another corner was a boxing ring where, at alternate times, Hector Camacho Sr. shadow-boxed and worked the mitts with Canton, light heavyweight Daniel Judah put the finishing touches on sparring for the following weekend’s fight with Prince Badi Ajamu, and referees Garry and Parker held a refereeing seminar.
Several sets of tables lined the perimeter of the room as well as its center. Pacheco sold autographed copies of his book "Blood In My Coffee" as well as T-shirts and postcards bearing various paintings while Bos sold magazines, programs and autographed plaques of baseball Hall of Famers. Author Ron Ross offered copies of his three books at another table while a DVD of vintage fights were beamed onto a giant screen, the same screen that hours later would present images of the Cotto-Pacquiao pay-per-view.
Just like Canastota, inductees and admirers mingled freely and autographs were secured with little fanfare or trouble. Dundee signed my copies of his books with his trademark earnestness and not only did I purchase Pacheco’s book I was invited to pull up a chair and engage in lengthy conversation about Jose Napoles, Luis Rodriguez and, of course, Muhammad Ali. One priceless moment unfolded when Dundee wandered over, stood behind me and placed both hands on my shoulders as Pacheco related a story about how Rodriguez wanted to bolt the ring to help his Cuban countrymen instead of engaging in his Madison Square Garden main event. It isn’t often that a humble scribe could find himself in such a situation amidst two towering figures of the ring, and yet the mental walls that usually separate star from fan didn’t exist. We were simply three boxing people having a good time.
Later on I got autographs from "Drunken Master" Emanuel Augustus, trainer Jimmy Williams and former WBC heavyweight champion Pinklon Thomas for my "big book," which is quickly running out of places to sign.
After the festivities concluded I returned to my room to go a few rounds with Methuselah (my sister’s ancient laptop) before departing for the Gala Dinner and Silent Auction at the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center across the street.
Approximately 300 attended the function, an excellent figure given the weekend’s embryonic state, and the food was rather good. I was one of only two people at our table to pre-order the chicken marsalla (Steve Canton’s wife Mary Lynn was the other) while everyone else consumed steak that was cooked medium instead of the pink I see at the IBHOF’s banquet. Though small in size, the meal was thoroughly filling.
It was a little after 10 p.m. when we all returned to the conference room at the Howard Johnson’s, this time to watch the Cotto-Pacquiao pay-per-view broadcast. By the time I arrived and settled into one of the front row seats the Yuri Foreman-Daniel Santos fight was in the middle of the fifth round. Top Rank fielded plenty of verbal and typographical slings and arrows for putting the mobile Foreman on such a high-profile undercard but the aspiring rabbi rose to the occasion, scoring several uncharacteristic knockdowns en route to a dominant decision that enabled him to annex Santos’ WBA junior middleweight belt.
The energy in the room increased markedly as the main event neared and to these ears loyalties were almost equally divided. The pulsating action over the first four rounds produced a number of "oohs" and "aahs" and this scribe thought he was witnessing a potential Fight of the Year candidate. But beginning in the fifth Pacquiao began to assert his skill and will and soon Cotto began to backpedal willingly. The Filipino’s unrelenting assault eventually broke the Puerto Rican’s body and soul and referee Kenny Bayless’ final-round stoppage was appropriately compassionate.
Sunday, November 15: For me this day began five-and-a-quarter hours after the last one ended and as I got ready for the day I felt the pangs of deadline pressure. I needed to write the CompuBox recap for Pacquiao-Cotto as well as get some work done on the story you are now reading. Luckily for me the words flowed like water from a faucet and by 10:30 a.m. I was able to catch the final hour of the "Breakfast With the Inductees" function downstairs.
The organizers couldn’t have asked for a prettier day – nearly cloudless skies and temperatures in the low 70s. The ceremony was held at an outdoor pavilion across the street from the hotel and the palm trees that surrounded three of the four sides offered just the right amount of sanctuary from the midday sun, whose reflection shimmered on the Hillsborough River directly across from us. Nearly three-quarters of the 152 chairs were occupied.
The ceremony began with 15 of the inductees being ushered in by a color guard while a bag pipe player hailed their arrival. The two best-known honorees – Angelo Dundee and Dr. Ferdie Pacheco – were at the head of the line. As they passed by I thought about how historic this moment was; these men have traveled down many roads during their 40-plus years together and now here they were, a pair of octogenarians nearing the sunset of their careers, reaping another reward of their lifelong devotion to boxing.
Once the procession finished, the honorees were brought up one by one so they could be photographed by fans and media alike, then were assembled for group shots before the formal induction procedure began.
This was a departure – and perhaps an improvement –from what usually happens in Canastota. There, the media is asked to snap photos immediately after the ceremony, a time when fans anxious to snag a few last-minute autographs have to be told to restrain themselves until the working press finishes its work. The result is plenty of jostling for position and, ultimately, a crush of people charging the stage as the inductees depart. Here, everyone gets the shots they need with little interference and fans seeking autographs have ample time to get what they wish after the festivities. The result: Everyone leaves happy. Then again, this ceremony only dealt with a little more than 100 people while thousands attend the IBHOF’s induction. Crowd control is a much more formidable challenge in Canastota to say the least.
After everyone was seated, emcee Bob Alexander commenced the induction by recognizing the deceased members. Steve Kaplan accepted a plaque and a framed certificate on behalf of his father Hank while Florida Boxing Commission Chairman Ramiro Ortiz stood in for Luis Rodriguez, Willie Pastrano and Ralph Dupas. In a unique turn, Angelo Dundee spoke for his older brother Chris in his usual jocular fashion.
"I’m proud to be here for my brother Chris," he said. "My brother is the greatest promoter of all time and if he were promoting today he’d bury everybody. I want to give his award to his daughter Susie, who is not here today. And don’t worry, I won’t make copies of the award."
"If my dad was around, he would have been happy to experience this glorious day," Sam Cohen said of his father Marty. "He was in boxing 70 years and I was there when he died. He held my hand and said ‘it’s been a hell of a ride. Keep punching.’ Then he closed his eyes and passed on."
Florida Boxing Hall of Fame chairman Bruce Flansburg said this of historian Irv Abramson: "Irv was a mentor of mine and he was the one who helped me into the boxing business. I miss him. I know his lovely family is here today and I want to relay my congratulations."
The first living inductee to speak was Dundee, but he had significant issues with the wireless microphone. It worked perfectly with Alexander but went dead whenever Dundee handled it. After a few tries, a compromise was conjured: Alexander would hold the mike to Dundee’s mouth.
"Let me tell you, I’m thrilled to be here," he said. "We have the first Hall of Fame in Florida and we’re involved whether we like it or not. You guys inducted five of my fighters, which is great. You’ve all been so nice to me. But now you’re stuck with me because I live here now."
Next up was Steve Canton, who kept his remarks brief and dignified.
"It’s great to be here," he said. "There are a lot of great memories and today is the reward."
The always nattily dressed Jimmy Williams, who looks and acts younger than his 82 years, was more philosophical.
"This is one of the best moments of my life," he began. "I’ve lived two lives, one in show business and one in boxing. I was born in Florida and raised in New York and I’ve spent my life trying to find where I fit in. I’ve learned not to play the skin game but the mind game. I take people as they are because it’s what’s inside you that tells you what you are. This is an honor and the climax of my life. This is my reward and you are my witnesses. I have a crown and I’m being honored for that crown. I will be here until I leave, helping kids through the sport of boxing."
Former heavyweight champion Pinklon Thomas, who spends his days working with the Pride in Neighborhood Kids (PINK) program, was overwhelmed by his surroundings and with whom he was being honored.
"I see Angelo, Doc (Pacheco), Steve, Sam and Bobby (Goodman). I knew Bobby’s dad well as well as Chris (Dundee)," he said. "Angelo brought me to the heights of boxing and he helped me to be the best I could be. I’m so elated to be here to accept this and I guess I deserve it. There are no words to express how I feel."
"I’m very proud and honored to receive this award," triple champion Wilfredo Vazquez Sr. said through translator Felix "Tuto" Zabala Jr. "I thank everyone who chose me for this award and I’m going to bring it back to the people of Puerto Rico."
The colorful Johnny Bos, as always, managed to raise the intensity.
"Yo! I am mortified to be at an event that is keeping me from enjoying the Sunday NFL games," he said with his trademark twinkle of the eye. Then turning serious he said, "this is the biggest honor of my life. I never thought I’d be here. Last night I won another championship with Yuri Foreman. I’ve been a matchmaker for 35 champions and I managed five more. I’ve been associated with so many promotional companies I can hardly mention them all. I go back to when I was 12 years old and having lunch with Jack Dempsey, Mickey Walker and Abe Attell. That’s how far back I go. The best thing is that no one can take this away from me. It don’t get no better."
Dr. Pacheco delivered the longest speech but also the most entertaining. He regaled the audience with a succession of stories about his fellow inductees and others who were present while also paying emotional tribute to those who have passed to the other side. One of those stories involved Chris Dundee, whose single-mindedness was such that he continued to ask the driver’s opinion of a certain fight even after the vehicle overturned.
He concluded his remarks by saying, "The one thing about boxing is that we are a family. And if you need something, just come to me and I’ll send you to Angelo."
"I think I have about 30 seconds after that guy," Mark Beiro said to gales of laughter. "I’ve always wanted to be an announcer since I was a kid. I certainly had the big mouth for it. I never dreamed I would announce some of the biggest fights while standing in the biggest rings, traveling all over the world just to do this job. I grew up admiring Johnny Addie and when one of Florida’s best-known sportswriters called me a Johnny Addie I almost cried. The Florida Boxing Hall of Fame is the top of the mountain for me and for those who made it possible I thank them."
Beiro, who is nearly blind from the effects of diabetes, has always handled his fate with the good humor that had marked his career. When someone told him that there would be a braille version of the Pacquiao-Cotto telecast he said, "then I’m in trouble. I can’t read that either."
"Boxing is my life, it’s never been my job," said Bobby Goodman, who was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame this past June. "I became a boxing junkie at age seven and I’ve been around it all my life. It’s so nice to be among friends. I was once voted most likely to dissolve but somehow I made it. All of us who are in boxing are lucky to have families who understand our love of the sport."
"It’s so wonderful to be here," said Dr. Allan Fields. "I was so enamored of these gentlemen when I was growing up. I knew sitting on my father’s lap that boxing was for me. I don’t want to be as verbose as the other doctor, but Ferdie was one of my heroes. Someone asked me what it meant to be inducted into the Florida Boxing Hall of Fame and my whole boxing life flashed in front of me. I thought about how I should answer that question. The more I thought about it the more upset I became because it’s been such a wonderful roller coaster ride that I never want to get off."
"I’ve been fortunate enough to live a main event life," said Brian Garry. "I’ve had some great opportunities in world title fights. I once sang our national anthem while standing in a ring before 25,000 Chinese communists. All of us come from different places but in boxing we come as we are and are accepted. To me there is no color in boxing except the red corner and the blue corner."
"You never know what’s going to happen from day to day, but it’s a beautiful day here in Tampa," said fellow referee Max Parker Jr., who plans to return to the ring soon after a hiatus of several years. "I’ve been walking on Cloud Nine since I heard I was going to be inducted. This is a family and I’m proud to be part of this family."
"My father couldn’t be here because he was ill," said Zabala Jr. of Senior. "I know that he is very proud and I’m proud to be here today. It’s a special day because there are special fighters and special people here today. I thank you for this day."
"The good news is that Florentino Fernandez is alive and healthy and he looks like he could step in the ring today," said Commissioner Ortiz on his behalf. "The bad news is that he had family issues and couldn’t be here today. It’s an honor and a privilege and he congratulates his fellow inductees."
After the ceremony I caught up with Rick Folstad, who expanded on his brief remarks at the podium.
"It’s a great, great honor to be in there with these guys; it’s amazing," he said. "It’s one of the highlights of my life. To go in with guys like Angelo and Ferdie and Pinklon and Jimmy Williams, it can’t get any better than that. Sometimes I think ‘how did I get picked for this? What am I doing here?’ It’s been a beautiful day."
