Hands of Stone - Christian Giudice [22]
Duran ran into a problem right before fight time when a bad sore on his hand worsened considerably. “You could see the actual bone in my hand,” said Duran. “The doctor examines me and sees that I have an open sore, and tells me I can’t fight. I tell him, ‘Please let me fight, I need the money for my mom so we can eat.’ I beat Mendoza real bad, with sore and all. That’s how I jumped into the professionals.”
Duran signed the contract on a Monday, trained for two days and boxed on the Friday evening, 23 February 1968, in the Arena de Colon. Before his debut, Duran and Plomo met at Galicia Restaurant, where Plomo’s friend gave the young boxer his first pre-fight meal. It became a ritual. “At Galicia, I would order a salad and a beefsteak or chicken for Duran. No pasta or rice. This is what Duran would eat every day until the day of the fight,” said Plomo. “We received the tickets to go to Colon, traveled there, and got there with 118 pounds. I was very strict on his diet, and whenever I would tell him not to eat or drink something, he would always restrain. This is one of the things that helped us to win. He always did what I told him, so we never failed while he complied with my requests.
“Before the fight they were betting and shouting, ‘Mendoza, Mendoza.’ Nobody knew Duran then. But when the fight started, Duran did not give him the smallest chance to get close to him. He kept hitting him, down and up and down again. During four rounds, Duran hit him so badly that poor Mendoza was not able to do anything. Duran won by unanimous decision.”
Boxing writer Papi Mendez had invited the businessman Carlos Eleta along to “see Duran with his own eyes.” Knowing that Colon was the hotbed of boxing, Duran was considering moving there. However, first he had to decide who would manage his career. Although Duran had met Eleta through his street friend Chaflan, many claim that Papi Mendez was the real mediator between them. It was not unusual for boxing writers to act as fixers and on several occasions in his newspaper column Mendez would take credit for acquainting the pair. Their partnership would change the course of boxing history.
3
Papa Eleta
I do not live here to retrieve or multiply what my father lost or gained.
Jorge Luis Borges, Remorse
STANDING AT A window on his vast estate one day in 1963, Carlos Eleta saw a small boy knocking coconuts from a tree. Roberto Duran, then aged twelve, had perfected the art of stealing fruit and Eleta’s compound suited him well. More amused than angered, Eleta went outside and caught him. But instead of scolding the intruder and sending him away, he brought him inside and gave him lunch. He never thought that he would see the boy again. “My first impression of Roberto was this twelve-year-old stealing coconuts,” recalled Eleta. “I grab him and he is so funny that I invite him inside. I didn’t see him again until two or three years later in Colon.”
That “two or three years later” was 23 February 1968, at Duran’s pro debut. They met and talked and Eleta was impressed with the young fighter. Duran, for his part, needed financial backing, and knew that the cultivated Eleta was one of the most influential men in Panama. The contrast with the capricious little street urchin could not have been greater.
Carlos Eleta Almarán was born on 16 May 1918, the son of wealthy landowners. He earned his bachelor’s degree in Malaga, Spain, and his MBA at Bryant College in Providence, Rhode Island. In May 1941, he married Dora Boyd and would have four children: Carlos, Sandra, Alberto and Raquel del Carmen. Groomed for success, the tall, straight-backed, dignified Eleta stepped into his father’s business and eventually found himself as a major player in the importation and distribution of brand names such as Chesterfield cigarettes, 7-Up and