By kiki
Edit by Phil Rice
Jimmy Montoya really burst onto the boxing scene from out of nowhere in 1977. He soon was booking more than fifty fighters, mostly from Mexico, all over the world. He had a guy drive a van full of fighters all over the west coast, filling out cards whenever and wherever there was a need. Thus, the van became known as "The Meat Wagon."
Jimmy was not an especially good boxing teacher, probably because he didn't have any boxing experience. He was an excellent conditioner, though. He had gotten into boxing thru a cousin who was managing his brother, Rudy Robles. The cousin got in hot water and had to go to jail for a few years. He turned his brother over to Jimmy, and like they say, the rest is history. In the early '80's Jimmy became Bob Arum's preliminary matchmaker for Bob's Vegas fights.
In the winter of 1982, I, with my sons Frankie and Tony, went to New York City to meet with Don King; Jimmy Montoya was also there. After we had been there for about four days, Jimmy and I were dying for some Mexican food, so we went out to find some. While walking down 8th Avenue, we saw a place with a big sign: "Mexican Food-Burritos." We walked in, and some Puerto Ricans were running the joint. We turned right around and walked out.
We walked another block until we saw an Italian place. We decided to go in and have some spaghetti and meatballs. As we were waiting for our food, we could hear voices, with many 'dems, deezes, and dozes' coming from the back of the place. I got up and walked to the back to check it out.
"Just some guys shooting pool," I said to Jimmy.
While we were eating, Jimmy asked me if I had any money on me.
"I got some. Why?"
"Lend me forty bucks," he said.
When we finished eating, we went back to where the guys were shooting pool. Jimmy asked if he could play.
"Sure, but we play for money."
"That's okay," said Jimmy.
After two or three games, Jimmy was down to his last ten dollars. He puts the ten bucks on one last game. He won the game.
"I want a rematch," the guy told Jimmy.
"Sure," Jimmy said. Jimmy beats him again. Two more games, and the dude was broke.
Another guy played Jimmy, and after a few games, Jimmy broke him, too.
Then the first guy Jimmy played with got on the phone. Twenty minutes later, a guy walked in with a stick in a fancy case. He got it on with Jimmy, and while Jimmy was playing this guy, the first one was getting drunk.
Jimmy broke this one, too. By this time, the first guy was so stinking drunk that he could barely stand up, but he staggered up to Jimmy and said, "You're good, but you drink to f*#king much."
Jimmy won eight hundred bucks. Since he played and won with my forty dollars, I got four hundred bucks.
We were in New York City for a Don King press conference. It was to be held in a very fancy hotel. Men’s attire was a suit and tie. As Jimmy and I were walking back to our hotel, he told me that he didn’t bring a suit.
“Well. Jimmy, you just won four hundred bucks. Buy one.”
“Hey! I can do that; let’s find a Men’s store.”
We found one on 42nd St. Jimmy looked at some suits and settled on a bluish one if I remember right. The pant's legs were altered in no time, and Jimmy had a new suit.
After getting all dressed up the following day in suits, ties, and since it was a cold February afternoon, also in overcoats, we left to walk to the press conference.
After a short walk in the snow, we arrived at the classy hotel. We walked into a big ballroom where the press conference was to be held. We soon met Don King, and he introduced us to actress/singer Eartha Kitt, actor/dancer Gregory Hines, singer James Brown, and political activist Al Sharpton.
We slipped out of our overcoats and found our table. We had been sitting for about twenty minutes when I happened to look at Jimmy’s suit sleeve; I leaned over and whispered in his ear: “Jimmy, look at your sleeve.” Jimmy looked at his left sleeve, and right away, he put his arm under the table and started pulling off the price tag. Guess he didn't want any of the high rollers to know he bought his suit "off the rack."
No comments:
Post a Comment