Hands of Stone - Christian Giudice [50]
Indeed, by the time of Roberto Durán’s ascencion, non-US boxers topped not just the lightweight division. With the exception of Joe Frazier at heavyweight and Bob Foster at light-heavyweight, every single champion was from either Central or South America or the Far East. Great fighters like Argentina’s Carlos Monzon and the Cuban-Mexican Jose Napoles were regarded as the best, pound-for-pound, in the sport and, odd as it may seem to those who now look back on the Seventies as a golden time for heavyweights, the bellwether division was moribund. Champion Joe Frazier was much maligned for defending against no-hopers and only the no-longer-youthful Muhammad Ali brought color to the division.
Panamanian boxing not only benefited from this boom, but was about to become an unlikely arbiter in the sport worldwide. It now had two champions, Duran and Alfonso “Peppermint” Frazer, and would soon have two more, bantamweight Enrique Pinder and former Duran conquest Ernesto Marcel. For a country of only 1,600,000 people, fewer than most major cities, this was a remarkable achievement. The most important development had been the political takeover of Omar Herrera Torrijos, an ambitious army officer and keen advocate of the national sport, after a coup in October 1968. Torrijos ousted the right-wing nationalist president, Arnulfo Arias, won an internecine power struggle with his co-conspirators, and emerged as sole dictator. He pitched himself as the first ruler to represent the majority of the people, who were poor, Spanish-speaking and of mixed indigenous, Hispanic and African descent, as opposed to the rabiblancos or “white-tails,” the light-skinned social elite who lived in Panama City and dominated commercial and political life. He instituted wide-ranging reforms aimed at the middle and lower classes, opened schools and redistributed agricultural land. He also suspended democratic institutions and persecuted the wealthiest families, as well as independent student and labor leaders who opposed his rule. Boxing and physical fitness were encouraged and given state funding.
Sportswriters visited the tiny state at this time to find out its secret. One noted that only the Brazilians’ passion for football compared with the Panamanians’ for boxing. “The Panamanians not only want to watch, they want to get in there and have a go themselves,” he wrote. “One only has to walk through the streets of Panama City’s shanty towns, the makeshift slums … to see evidence of their keenness. Contests are organized by the locals, and young boys, sometimes no older than ten years, stand in an imaginary roped square and slug it out.”
Many of the newest buildings were spacious gyms to accommodate the hordes of would-be fighters. Up to fifty boxing contests were held every week – as many as in the UK in a month. “The second oldest trade in Panama City, next to the prostitution, is that of the shoeshine boys,” wrote journalist Dave Fletcher. “These youngsters, usually between eight and fifteen years old, have enough foresight to realize that fighting is the only way to make a name for themselves. Many can be seen sparring amongst the bars and shops when custom is at a low ebb. Panama is one of the few places in the world where the term ‘hungry fighter’ can still be used literally. Although the standard of living is generally low, the average young Panamanian is generally fit, and obesity is considered to be a disease of the ‘Gringo.’ A Panamanian would think nothing of walking twenty miles in search of employment, or to say