Good Noon

At the

Apron

A Night at the Fights

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

At the Apron

A Night at the Fights

Copyright © 2011 Michael North

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ISBN: 978-1-4620-3670-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-3669-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-3668-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011912170

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 7/27/2011

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Prelude:

At the Apron

Chapter 1:

Outside the Forum

Chapter 2:

Mike’s Amateur Days (45 years earlier)

Chapter 3:

The Great Western Forum

Chapter 4:

The Blue and Gold Show

Chapter 5:

Return to the Forum

Chapter 6:

Riot at the Country Club

Chapter 7:

Reno

Chapter 8:

At the Apron

Chapter 9:

Western States Boxing

Chapter 10:

David Leaves For England

Chapter 11:

Woodland Hills

Chapter 12:

Las Vegas

Chapter 13:

Reunion at the Forum

Chapter 14:

Fantasy Springs

Chapter 15:

David’s last show

Chapter 16:

The Resurrection

In Memory of my good friend

David Wood

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To

Jo Ann

Thank you for your professional help.

Jo Ann Bischetsrieder

Editor

To Suzanne

Special thanks for all your help.

Suzanne Richards

Contributing Editor

Special thanks to my beautiful wife Nancy for her support during the writing of At the Apron.

Prelude:

At the Apron

It was a cold and overcast day in Los Angeles as Mike North sat quietly on a bench in front of the Great Western Forum. People, cars, and buses came and went but he just sat there. He was in no hurry. He had been in a hurry all of his life but lately he just sat there on that old bench and remembered the days when he had great friends and a career. Having been a photographer for most of his life Mike missed the days when he was one of the most popular photographer/sportswriters in Southern California. But those days were long gone, his close friends and family died many years ago, and all of his boxing acquaintances had passed away. Mike held close to him a used and worn old camera bag; it was the only thing in his life that he still valued after all those years. Mike was neither a homeless man nor a poor man; he was just a very tired and lonely man. Wearing a suit that was clean but old he seemed to those passing by like a man from the last century. And he just as well may have been for times had changed, the sport of boxing had changed, and there were none of his kind left any longer. The streets that he knew so well were now run-down, all the stores had bars on their windows, many were closed and many were burned-out or had fallen down, and the neighborhood was infested with crime and drug houses. Behind where Mike was sitting was the old Great Western Forum and it too had seen better days. Once the main location for most major Los Angeles boxing shows (second only to the Olympic Auditorium in its heyday) the old building at West Manchester was now tagged for demolition. Its grand doorways were boarded up years ago but amazingly an old brass plaque dictating, The greatest of all times, could be seen through the door window. It was absolutely outstanding that after all the years as a church it still remained. If only the building could talk what stories it could tell; stories of big knockouts, of last minute comebacks and championships won and lost. There would be stories of how it got its name as The House of Upsets. It could tell of packed houses; of bad calls and phantom punches; and of people, good and bad, people who became friends and people who became enemies. Mike had a life full of memories associated with the old building and that was why he returned there day after day; it was the only thing that was left of his once wonderful world. It was there that he met his best friends and colleagues. The old building drew him to the location where so many years ago his life was complete, a life that had vanished a long time ago, when he held a permanent seat AT THE APRON.

Chapter 1:

Outside the Forum

Traffic was heavy as usual but Mike didn’t pay any attention to the cars and people that were passing by; his thoughts were of a different time. He turned to look at the old building he was sitting in front of; for just for a moment, he thought he heard the music that once came from inside. He knew that was impossible however, for that music stopped many years ago. As he stared at the doorway he could have sworn that he heard the ring announcers introducing the first fight.

You must be going crazy, Mike said to himself. Then his thoughts were interrupted by a voice from behind him.

Who are you talking to old man? Mike turned to see who was talking to him and came face to face with a small boy on roller skates. Who are you talking to? the little boy said.

I was talking to myself, said Mike.

Do you always talk to yourself? asked the little boy.

What is your name young fellow?

My name is Jimmy, the boy replied.

Well, don’t you ever talk to yourself?

I don’t think so, said Jimmy. But sometimes my mom talks to herself, but only when she is real mad at my dad.

And where are your Mom and Dad right now?

My mom is right over there, where we live, and she said I could come over here and roller skate but to be careful crossing the street, replied Jimmy.

Aren’t you a little too young to be playing by yourself?

I don’t have anyone to play with, because my mom hasn’t had my baby brother yet, Jimmy answered. Why are you here by yourself? Don’t you have someone to play with either? Jimmy asked.

No, I’m all alone nowadays I don’t have anyone to play with either. So I just come down here to look at this old building to remember the days when I had lots of friends to play with.

How come you like that old building? It’s been closed for a long time my mom said and she told me not to go in there because there are ghosts in there, Jimmy continued.

Well, your mom may just be right; there might be ghosts in there. A long time ago I used to go into there a lot that was when I was a famous sportswriter.

If you were famous how come you sit down here all by yourself?

I used to be famous, replied Mike.

Well, you don’t look famous, why were you famous? Jimmy asked.

You sure do ask a lot of questions for such a young man.

Well, if I don’t ask questions, nobody will tell me anything, said Jimmy. How come you like that old building so much? What did you do when you went in there?

More questions, you sure do ask a lot of questions, said Mike.

I don’t care, said Jimmy. What did you do when you went in there?

I went in there to watch the boxing matches, and take pictures of the boxers. Then I would write a story, send the story to magazines, and they would pay me money for my stories.

What kind of stories? Jimmy asked.

Stories about boxing of course, replied Mike.

I want to be a boxer when I grow up, just like my grandfather.

Oh you do huh? And just who is your grandfather? asked Mike.

My grandfather is Sammy Garcia. That’s my last name Garcia.

Not Sammy (Little Guns) Garcia?

I don’t know, Jimmy said. My mom said my grandfather use to be a good boxer but that was before I was born. Now he lives at the nursing home.

I saw your grandfather fight many times right here in this old building, said Mike. So you’re Sammy’s grandson. I didn’t even know he was still living around here. Is he around now? asked Mike.

No, I don’t think so know.

That’s OK, said Mike. I just thought he might remember me.

Why? asked Jimmy.

Because I use to be a famous sportswriter back in those days.

You don’t look famous, said Jimmy.

OK, don’t start that again. And what does someone have to look like to look famous?

If you are famous how come you sit down here all by yourself?

OK, I wasn’t famous I was just popular.

What’s popular mean? asked Jimmy.

How come you know what famous is but not what popular is? Mike asked.

I don’t know, said Jimmy.

Well, it means that a lot of people liked me, replied Mike.

If a lot of people liked you, how come you sit down here by yourself?

Well, that’s a long story Jimmy, said Mike. See when I first came to California. Just as Mike started to tell little Jimmy his story a voice from a balcony interrupted his talking.

Is he bothering you mister? asked the voice from the balcony.

Who is that? Mike asked in a quiet voice.

That’s my mom, little Jimmy replied.

No, he’s not bothering me; we were just talking.

Jimmy it’s time for supper, you better come home and eat, replied the lady.

Mom we were just talking, do I have to come home now? Jimmy yelled back.

Yes Jimmy. Stop bothering that old man and come home right now, replied Jimmy’s mother.

He’s not bothering me.

Jimmy! Come home right now.

Oh, OK if I have to, Jimmy said sadly. I have to go, Jimmy said to Mike.

I know, but maybe we can talk again some other time.

That would be great, I like talking to you, Jimmy told the old man.

Mike watched as little Jimmy skated into the apartment building entrance. Maybe he will come back down after he eats Mike thought to himself. Sitting back down on the old bench, Mike was all alone again and his thoughts soon focused back on that old building behind him. As he sat and thought about that old building his mind started to drift and he began to remember how it all got started so many years ago.

Chapter 2:

Mike’s Amateur Days (45 years earlier)

It has been about six months since Mike officiated at his last amateur boxing show. That day he was checking