Mexican Americans and Sports: A Reader on Athletics and Barrio Life

Raza Boxing: Community, Identity, and Hybridity in the 1960s and 1970s in Southern California

On April 30, 1964, Al Díaz attended his first prizefight in his official capacity as the newly appointed California boxing commissioner. Along with ninetyfour hundred other fans packed into the Olympic Auditorium in the city of Los Angeles, Díaz witnessed a fast-paced, bloody, twelve-round fight between Mexican Efrén “Alacrán” (the Scorpion) Torres and Japanese Hiroyuki (“the Japanese Beetle”) Ebihara. At the fight’s end, as both gladiators motioned signs of victory, jubilant mariachis clambered into the ring and broke into songasthecrowdawaitedJimmyLennon’sannouncementofasplitdecision. According to La Opinión, when the popular Lennon announced the victor to be Ebihara, he gave the signal “to set Troy ablaze.” The “mutiny” and “bloody melee” that ensued were, according to the newspaper, “the greatest demonstration of protest in the annals of angeleño pugilism.” As a rain of bottles, beer cans, pieces of cement, and other projectiles showered onto the ring and floor below, the three judges, mariachis, reporters , broadcasters, and spectators at ringside took refuge in the crowded space under the ring. “It was worse than being in a foxhole,” said one writer whose face was bloodied by a broken bottle. According to the Los Angeles Times, “Only a bombing raid could have wreaked so much havoc. . . . The scene was unparalleled in Los Angeles sports history.” From all corners of the 160 R A Z A B O X I N G Community, Identity, and Hybridity in the 1960s and 1970s in Southern California gregory s. rodríguez auditorium protestors yelled in Spanish, “Vamos a destruir el lugar” (Let’s destroy the place), “Robarón al Alacrán, vamos a quemar la arena” (They robbed the Scorpion, let’s burn the arena), and “No se van a salir con la suya” (They won’t get away with it). Heavy steel chairs were ripped up in the balcony and hurled down onto the main floor. Two four-hundred-pound advertising billboards were torn off the balcony and sent crashing down. Angry fight fans ripped out water pipes in the balcony, letting loose a stream that cascaded down the main flight of stairs. Someone turned a fire hose on the spectators, drenching them as they tried to escape through the main entrance. A number of fires were started but quickly extinguished. One Olympic official had his shirt torn off in the row. “An unsung hero of the riot was an unidentified Mexican fan,” observed a Los Angeles Times correspondent, “who bravely climbed into the center of the ring and tried to quiet the demonstrators. While he appealed for reason, the angry mob took aim and fired away at him with bottles and wadded paper and anything they could get their hands on. Miraculously he escaped being hit.” In a more detailed account, La Opinión pointed out that the “unsung hero” was Al Díaz, the first Mexican American prizefighting commissioner , who, in attempting to calm the demonstrators, was indeed hit by a flying piece of concrete that opened a gash on his leg. The Ebihara-Torres bout that sparked the rebellion exemplified the intense excitement over boxing as U.S. Mexicans (Mexicans residing and fightingintheUnitedStateswithoutregardtotheircitizenship )cametodominate the lighter-weight championships in the 1960s. Boxing competition continued to highlight differences among groups by bringing them together in what had truly become a transnational industry. Boxing had become a ritual in which Mexicans from south of the border participated by the thousands, making the sport into a symbol of national affiliation. In the 1960s and 1970s the Los Angeles boxing industry produced Mexican and Chicano world champions at an unparalleled rate, one that virtually guaranteed these groups’ hold on championship belts. In the bantamweight division (118 lbs.), U.S. Mexicans produced 12 world champions between 1960 and 1980 (10 of these were all in the 1970s). In the same period, Mexicans and U.S. Mexicans accounted for 9 featherweight champions (125 lbs.); 6 lightweight champions (135 lbs.); and 3 welterweight champions (147 lbs.) but no middleweight champions (160 lbs). In 1969, Efrén Torres, el alacrán, became the first Mexican to win the flyweight championship, marking the beginning of Mexican and Latino dominance in the 112-lb. category. The modern flyweight title R A Z A B O X I N G 161 dated to 1913, with the division originally dominated by U.S. Jews, ethnic Italians , and Filipinos until the...