By kiki
I watched the boxer Hector "Macho" Camacho documentary, and it left me with a lasting poignant feeling. That is no surprise since the boxing graveyard is litter with broken bodies and warped minds of boxers who lived in the fast lane at the height of their careers, only to self-travel in the end, shadow boxing in the lonely, friendless boulevard.
The flamboyant "Macho Man" was born in Puerto Rico's northern coastal valley city of Bayamón. He and his family moved to New York City's Spanish Harlem at a young age, where he grew up to become his barrio's boxing darling. Hector won numerous Golden Gloves titles. He also had an extraordinary pro career, winning two or three world titles. But, like young fighters before him, he could not handle fame and fortune when it was handed to him. In the early years of boxing's history, the young boxers would fall prey to the temptation of wine, women, and song. By Macho Time, fast women and drugs brought tough fighters to their knees and most never recovered. Hector was shot and killed in 2012.
I hope that Hector, in his dreamless sleep, has found peace.
