Time of War

By kiki

As I sat in bed watching war movies this Memorial Day of 2015, I was reminded of those long-ago days during WWII when my late sister Rachel and I would sit by the window during the blackouts at our house in Simons. We would sit and watch as the searchlights were trained on unidentified aircraft. Once the plane was identified, we were allowed to turn our lights back on…I remember all the young men from the barrio walking around the brickyard in tight press service uniforms and spit-shine boots while on leave. I remember most boys attending Vail Elementary School wearing army or navy caps. I remember my uncle Florentino giving me an army cap and a heavy wool overcoat; of course, the coat was too big for me, but I wore it anyway. At the war's end, all the young men who made it back home went to the brickyard…..I salute all the men and women who have served, especially those who paid the ultimate price to protect our right to live in a free country.

“What Were You Waiting For? The Setup”

By kiki

In 1973 I was the director of the Los Angeles Golden Gloves Tournament, and I was running out of time, as the date for the finals was inching up on me, to eliminate fighters, so I had to run some eliminating bouts at that great dame of Los Angeles boxing, The Olympic Auditorium. And so it was on a pro/am-card where the late Frankie Muche, an ex-fighter and later a manager/trainer, found himself with a fighter fighting with the hopes of moving up in the tournament. 

While down in the catacombs of that famous arena, I watched Muche’s fighter warm up; he looked like the real thing. He also looked good shadowboxing down the aisle to the ring. But once the first bell rang, the kid froze; the number of punches he threw in three rounds you could count in two hands. He lost; no surprise there. But the kid, with Frankie Muche yelling at him from behind, looked like a champ as he shadowed-boxed his way up the aisle on his way back to the catacombs. Once in the catacombs, Frankie lost his cool and yelled at the kid, “what the fuck were you waiting for!?’ The kid, who was still shadowboxing and throwing beautiful combs, answered Frankie without losing a beat, “for the setup”….Some things in life you just can’t make up!!

Stabbing: At The Olympic Auditorium

By kiki

If you have attended boxing matches at the Olympic Auditorium for as many years as I have, you most likely have witnessed a riot or two after an unpopular decision, most likely the decision going against a beloved Mexican National fighter. I have seen riots and, more than that, a stabbing!

If you know the Olympic, Auditorium, you know that a ‘catwalk’ wraps around all 4 sides of the auditorium. One time circa 1959, Connie and I were walking around from the west side of the walk to the north (18^th Street side) side, and as we rounded the corner, we noticed a commotion down the walk by the vast freight doors. As we hurriedly made our way down the walk, people started scattering to the four winds. By the time we made it to the commotion spot, all that was left was a guy lying on the floor, bleeding from a stab wound to the gut. Soon a couple of ushers came to render first aid. Connie and I left the Olympic shaken to the core that night and ensured that we never wanted to go back. But of course, we did go back many times after that; our boys even fought the main event there a time or two. But that was one incident that I tried to lock up in the back of my mind, but every now and then, it will rear its ugly head up...I never found out if the stabbing victim made it or not.