IN THE END MACHO CAMACHO COULD NOT STOP A BULLET

He was a man who had both the skills of a boxer, and a magnificent sense for entertainment.   Flamboyance.  One of the greatest small fighters ever.  Hector Camacho Extravagant.  Hector Camacho Champion.  Hector Camacho Legend.

More than a flash, wild costumes, theater,  Hector had a career record of 79-6-3.  He was indestructible.  He won Super Lightweight, Lightweight and Junior Welterweight World Titles in the 1980s.

He took on the best. Felix Trinidad, Julio Cesar Chavez, Sugar Ray Leonard.  He knocked out Leonard in 1997, ending the former champ's final comeback attempt, knocking him into retirement.

We couldn't wait for his entrance.  A real boxer, it was hard to watch him lose to Oscar De La Hoya.

But it was when he met met Edwin Rosario, Madison Square Garden, HBO.   He was Hector Macho Camacho for the first four rounds, on your feet, yelling, but falling to your knees, holding your breath for five and six. Then the Skill and Savvy of a life time got him the middle rounds.  But Rosario came back. Eleventh and Twelfth.  Sure it was close, but more than guts, it was heart that made the difference.  A split decision, but he was still the World Champ.

Then in Las Vegas, 1992, Julio Cesar Chavez.  Even though he lost in a unanimous decision, it was dressing like Captain America when he entering the arena that everybody remembers. 

***

He was a man I remember as a kid in New York when my dad got me and my brother into boxing at the Boys Club up in East Harlem.  My dad helped out there training guys to box. That's when we met Hector.  I remember Dad saying, 'You see that kid?  He's going to be a World Champion.'  And he was right, more than one division. 

Hector trained in Jefferson Park, out on East 111th Street.  We always waited for him when he came running around the corner and when he got close we would run with him and try to pass him.  It was all for fun but he was a whole lot faster.  He'd be way ahead and would stop and wait for us to catch up.  Then he'd take off with a big smile.  World Champion waiting for us kids.  Thank God for those wonderful times.

***

He was a man just sitting in the car.  A Ford Mustang, parked out side the bar like it was supposed to. I talk to the driver while two guys do the deal through the other window.  Way they go down.  But this time, it wasn't right?  They don't have the stuff, or they want more money, or something?  I see them jump back, and they're shooting, so I close my eyes, and I shoot too. I don't ask no questions.  I run to get away.  I never look back.

I've heard the name? Macho Camacho?  Some kind of boxer long time ago, I think.  All I know.  He's just another drug guy to me.  Not the first time I had to shoot some guy.  Shooting's part of what you have to do sometimes. Part of doing this.

They say he's brain dead. Say the bullet entered his jaw and  hit a bunch of arteries in his neck, then sticks in his shoulder. It stopped the blood to his brain.

And, like I thought, they found nine bags of cocaine in the other guy's pocket, and a 10th one open, under the seat. He got killed, outright.  Yeah, we got him, too. 

 He was a Boxing Champion, huh?



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HELP COMES FROM:

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usatoday.com/story/sports/boxing/2012/11/22/hector-macho-camacho-shot-brain-dead/1720845/
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FLOYD MAYWEATHER AND 50 CENT TO FIGHT IN VEGAS DEC. 14

I sit at my usual booth back by the kitchen, relaxing, it's Friday, my day off, surfing the web for ideas for my next Blog Post.  And then....

"What the Hell?" I say.  Helena sits next to me, an eye on everyone, on her rounds filling everyone's coffee.  She's good with customers.  That blond hair, those legs, plus she owns the place, the Montana Galley. 

I find it. It's perfect for my Blog Post.  I turn my iPad toward Helena, and show her the headlines.  '50 Cent Accepts Offer To Fight Floyd Mayweather.'   Must be true, it's on the internet, right?
 
And as I look up,  I say it again, "What the Hell?"  In the next booth.  I whisper, "I know that man. This is crazy."

"What?"  She looks over.  "Yeah. It's Jimmy Chintz, big time Celebrity Agent.   He's a regular." 

I check the internet. "Here...yes...Mayweather is one of his clients."

"Do you think I should open a bar in here?  I got a liquor license."

"What? Sure,"  I say, not listening.  I should be asking Jimmy about this fight with 50 Cent.  Perfect Blog material.  That's when it happened.  (This just gets better.)

Floyd Mayweather walks into the front door.  I'm not kidding. Through the front door.  Jimmy waves and Mayweather walks back and slides into his booth.

Helena moves quickly, is over there pouring them coffee, then comes back.

"But Floyd," says Jimmy, "he's got 50 pounds on you, he could..."

"Whaaaat?" says Mayweather.  "Dude,  50 is a RAPPER,  not a BOXER.  I was raised up from a child boxing, come on." 

"But," says Jimmy, "you're not thinking.  It's a stunt.  Floyd, it's only $5 million."

"And 'til this day I never lost to other trained BOXERS.  What makes you think a RAPPER stands a chance against an undefeated BOXER?  What else am I doing on Dec.14?  Nothin.'"

"We made $20 million against Pacquiao.  What's $5 million.  It's like that celebrity fighting crap.  D-Listers do that, not you."

Mayweather eyes open wide.  "What are you saying, Jimmy."  His voice is loud.  "50 Cent can take me in the ring?"  He looks around the restaurant.  He pounds his knuckles into his palm.

"Floyd, calm down.  I know about the feud between you two, but just walk away."

Floyd smiles.  He has white teeth.   "You've been reading my tweets?  I been tellin' how he's going down."

"Yeah, I saw," says Jimmy.  "This feud.  We'll work it out.  But not for $5 million."

"Feud?" I ask Helena.  I start typing on the iPad, but she elbows me.

"You're not up on this, I guess?" she says.  "Okay, this feud appears to be over a Boxing Venture the pair cooked up called The Money Team Promotions.  That was before Floyd checked himself into prison.  Then 50 Cent changes his mind.  He claims  prison had 'Changed' Mayweather.'  50 Cent then announces he's creating a new promotion company with Manny Pacquiao.  Manny and Mayweather are kinda at odds."

I read off the iPad.  "It's a couple of eccentric billionaire Alki David and Celebrity Boxing Owner Damon Feldman have offered these two $5 million each to square off in a three round boxing match. David says the match will air live on Filmon.com and Battlecam.com, two of his websites."

Floyd," says Jimmy.  "This Feldman is the same guy who wanted Drake and Chris Brown to fight after a bar brawl.  $5 million each.  They were both fighting over who loved Rihanna more."

Mayweather pounds his fist on the table again.  "So he's been working out.  So he's a big guy, but Dude, he ain't no boxer.  He needs to be taken down."

"You can't be doing this Floyd."  Jimmy waves his hand in the air.  "'I'm so rich I can have these two monkeys dance for my entertainment.'  That's what they're saying about you."

Floyd is hot.  His hands are fists. "Guy decides to breach our contract, our promotion company?  I should just let him get away with it?"

"About the restaurant," says Helena  "Do you think I should have a bar with food or a nice restaurant with alcohol?'

"What...shshsh...I'm listening to..."  I nod toward the next booth.  Jimmy rubs his head. Floyd's forehead sweats.

"I have competition," says Helena, "from down the block.  Wild Cherry Tree Pub."

"Shshshsh," I say.  "Sweetheart, I'm trying to listen..."

”He was on Twitter," says Floyd.  "He says he needs time to get in shape.  204 lbs."   He thumbs his SmartPhone.  "Here's what he says. "'I hit that boy he will see a white light.'  That's what he said.  Dude, I can't let him say that, no way."

"I'll have to find a bouncer," says Helena, "you know, having so much alcohol...bartenders... Woody, you're not listening."   She punches my knee. 

"Helena...My dear...I'm trying to listen..."

"You're no fun.  Look, he'll never do it."  She looks up at me. "He's too good a fighter, and above such foolishness.  Floyd and 50 Cent, come on.  Is it worthy of your Blog?"

I'm amazed.  She knew about this.  I open my mouth, but there's no sound. 

Helena scootches out.  "Hey Jimmy, Floyd.  You doin' okay?"  They nod, and smile.  She pours more coffee.  She touches Mayweather shoulder, "I've heard about this fight..."

Mayweather leans back in the booth.  "50 cent wants to fight."  There is a loud laugh.  "Thinks he can break his promise.  Says I've changed somehow.  I've got my head on straight, that's what changed."  He apologize for his loud voice.  Then gets out, says he's gotta leave, salutes Helena, and moves toward the front door, a bounce in his step.

"Helena, don't make your Vegas reservations just yet," says Jimmy.  "We might, I say might, do it for $10 million, but for five, no way."  He waves to Floyd as he goes out the door. 

Helena waves too, and slides in with me again, shoulder to shoulder.  She looks into my eyes, and blinks.  She squeezes my arm.  "This ain't Sports. It's a boxer and a rapper feuding over some bull shizzle.  Dance for three rounds, take the dough, and own an orphanage, little kids who truly need the money.  Then move on."

"Neither seems to be the 'move on,' types," I say.  "Nor the 'back down' type."

Jimmy stands, stops and turns to our booth.

"These two billionaire guys, offering $5 million?  'Peasants, Fight for my Amusement.'  These guys are the one's that are sick."

He bows to Helena and me.  "I'm trying to get this craziness out of Floyd's head.  Makes him look like a clown.  It's a no win for him."

And as he leaves,  "No telling what 50 Cent will do."
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HELP COMES FROM:
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allhiphop.com/2012/04/25/50-cent-to-accompany-floyd-mayweather-to-the-ring-compares-boxing-champ-to-muhammad-ali/
3news.co.nz/50-Cent-offered-5-million-to-fight-Mayweather/tabid/418/articleID/276087/Default.aspx#ixzz2CRsuWZCl
readabilityformulas.com - Google/Images  - 

PACQUIAO IS STILL THE CHAMP

Rocky and LouAnn walk into the gym on S. Broadway near 108th.

"LouAnn,  I'll only be a minute.  You can wait in the car if you want.  I bet on these guys so I need to talk to the trainers, and watch them workout."

"'S'okay.  I don't mind.  Like to kinda see."  She waves her hands in the air to dry her nails, bright red, red like her lips.

"Hey, Rocky," says a voice by the ring.

"Benny."  Rocky waves.  "LouAnn, have a seat.  I'll be right back."

Rocky moves down the aisle to the ring.  "Jab, Johnny jab.  Your left, come on, left, left, jab, jab, jab."

LouAnn sits back and blows on her nails.  Every guy in the place looks at her, her halter top and high heels. She looks around, blinks, and smiles.

And they all felt it, that jolt of LouAnn-ity.   Pancho in the corner skipping rope, suddenly does doubles and cross overs.  The two on the treadmill shift into double time,  there are one handed pushups, and the kid at the speed bag starts using his elbow, all motion, loud groans, look at me, LouAnn, look at me.

Even Johnny shows his stiff left jab.

Rocky shakes Benny's hand.  "I brought LouAnn.   She'll make these guys work twice as hard."

"Benny smiles.  "Please, bring her by more often.  Look at 'em.  They never do that for me.  Talk about a work out."  Then his smile fades.  "But guess you don't have to be that good anymore."

"Yeah," says Rocky.  "I saw it too.  Pacquiao won, no question....Jab Johnny, jab.  Good, good."

"Bradley knew he'd lost," said Benny.  "You could tell the way he acted.  Said he had to go back and watch the tape, see if he'd won.  What's that all about?"

"Think it was fixed to build the gate for a re-match?  Big mistake.  Nobody cares about Bradley.  He'll just get beat up in the next fight, even worse."

The two look toward the fighter in the ring.

"The fight game ain't no game," says Rocky.  "It's a business.  Like everything else, money runs the show.  Like that's some kind of a surprise."

"Got no one to complain to either.  Boxing's like that.  Guess Don King's in charge.  What are you going to do?"

Lou Ann sits and looks at her nails.  She blows on her fingers, drying the polish.  Johnny looks over at her, exposes his jaw, gets tagged by a right cross.  He stumbles.

"Johnny, focus man, focus.  Jab, jab...you're right about the fight.  Bradley was okay, he did his best, you could see, but Pacquiao is the real Champion.  Bradley hasn't lost a fight, but no question, he got beat.  And beat bad.  Leaned in the entire fight, clinching, holding the back of Pacquiao's head."

"Fifty bucks gone," says Benny.  "I should've known."

"Heard on the radio coming over here, best thing for Bradley's career, is to man up, and give the belt back.  He's got good guy image.  He knows it's the right thing to do.  It's the smart thing to do.  Boxing fans won't forget him.  He'll get all kinds of endorsements."

"Rocky, come on,"  says LouAnn. "I gotta get back.  You said lunch.  I only got so much time."

"We just got here.  What do you got to get back to, LouAnn?"

"Stuff, Rocky.  I'm...doing stuff this afternoon. Okay?"  She blew again on her fingers, holding them at arms length.

"I'm sorry.  Your right.  I promised lunch.  Gimme a minute."

Rocky watched Johnny.  "Keep that left up, Johnny.  Your left.  It sets up everything.  Good, good, jab, jab, jab."

"Now show him your right, Johnny." says Benny.

He connects with the right, pow, then a wild left uppercut.  It misses, and he stumbles again.  "Left jab, Johnny.  Jab, jab, jab," says Rocky and Benny.
 
"Johnny'll do well," says Rocky, "If he jabs that left."  He slaps the canvas. 

 "Okay, I'll be back.  I want to talk to some of these guys.  Let them know how I feel about the fight. They all saw it.  Some might just say screw it, why work out, the best isn't good enough anymore, because fights are fixed, the judges are in the bag."

"Did you see they let Bradley hook his arm around Pacquiao and punching him in the ribs?  Ref didn't do nothin'?   It's corruption plain and simple, Rocky.  I was really shocked.  Pacquiao was way faster."

"Boxing needs new faces, what with Mayweather in prison," says Rocky.   "But not like this.  Bradley was confused a the end.  Thought he'd lost?"

"Guess you need a KO to win," says Benny.  "Can't just out class a guy anymore."

"Benny, I gotta go.  But when I get back I'm just going to tell your guys to watch the fight, and forget the decision.  Let them watch Pacquiao.  That's how you want to fight."

"Rock-eeeeee," says Lou Ann.  She opens her compact, and touches her lip with her little finger. "We gotta go."  She looks around again and smiles.  They watch, breathe deeply, grimace and sweat just a little more.

Rocky waves.  "Coming, Sweety."

Then to Benny.  "Here's what I think happened.  If it was fixed for Bradley, he didn't seem to know about it.  He fought so poorly.  Nobody will get excited now about a re-match.  Strange.  They didn't even try to disguise it.  What I think is that two of the three judges, they're really old guys, met in a back room at the Flamingo, somewhere, and worked out how they would score it.  No body else knew.  They took a chance that Pacquiao would KO Bradley, but they bet big on Bradley, and won big.  Only...the only way... I can think of."

Rocky shakes Benny's hand, looks up at Johnny, and motions with his left.  He smiles, takes LouAnn's hand, and they go up the aisle.  LouAnn hugs his arm.

"Let's drive out to Beverly Hills.  I'm thinking Lobster."

"Sure, why not."  He takes a deep breath. "Anything you want, Sweety."

LouAnn looks back over her shoulder and waves.  Everybody in the gym waves back.
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Help comes from:

cnn.com/2012/06/11/sport/philippines-pacquiao,
espn.go.com/blog/new-york/boxing/post,
WikiPedia/Manny Pacquiao, Google/Images
vancouversun.com/sports/Pacquiao+Bradley