History of Cuban Boxing Part:
The Last Generation of Pro FightersBy Robert Cassidy
FLORENTINO FERNANDEZ closes his eyes and the vision still appears. He will feel a warm summer breeze or hear the ocean gently wash up on the sand, and suddenly it brings him home. Even after four decades, the beauty of his homeland remains vivid. The memories are both pleasant and painful, as they send him back to places and faces he wishes to see. But he knows that some wishes aren't meant to come true.
"I miss Cuba very much," he said. "I miss the family and friends I left behind. I miss the beaches, the beautiful people, the view of Malecon [Havana's busiest street]. I miss the Cuba of 42 years ago."
Fernandez was among a few dozen professional fighters who left Cuba after Fidel Castro's rise to power. The lot included Luis Rodriguez, Benny Paret, Isaac Logart, Doug Vaillant, Sugar Ramos, Jose Legra and Jose Napoles. They represent the finest and -- until some recent defections - the last generation of pro boxers the island nation has produced.
There had been great Cuban fighters before and a spate of great Olympic champs since, but never was boxing as saturated with Cuban talent as it was in the early to late 1960s. The legacy of those men is measured by the success they achieved in the ring, but also by the sacrifices and hardships they endured by the sudden, and permanent, separation from family, friends and the country of their birth.
"I remained friends with Luis Rodriguez and with many of those fighters," said Fernandez, speaking through interpreter Eddie Soler, a Cuban-American and Florida-based boxing historian. "We remained close. We couldn't go back, but we had each other."
Fernandez and his brethren were established fighters when Castro launched his revolution from the mountains known as Sierra Maestra and forced dictator Fulgencio Batista into exile on New Year's Day, 1959. Initially, Castro was viewed as a savior by many nations, including the Unites States. But the kind of violence and vengeance that he fought against soon became common practice after the coup. Castro further alienated his country from the U.S. when he shunned democracy in favor of communism. Then in 1962, he signed Cuban National Decree 83a, which outlawed professional sports. It read in part, "Professional sports enriched the few at the expense many."
Cuba ceased producing pro fighters.
"I was in Cuba three days after the revolution," said Hall of Fame trainer Angelo Dundee. "I stayed at the Hilton, where Castro stayed. At that time, Castro still wanted things to go on as usual and he wanted there to be a boxing show. He was at the card and so was his brother Raul and Che Guevara. The atmosphere was always sensational at the fights in Cuba. But now, there were soldiers with machine guns at the fights too. One guy, his machine gun went off straight up in the air. What a scene that caused. That last time I went, when I was going through the airport, security was very tight. They checked everything but the kitchen sink. I said to myself, I'm not coming back anymore."
According to the book, "In the Red Corner, A Journey into Cuban Boxing," author Jon Duncan writes that the Cuban sports federation ordered a meeting of the island's pro boxers. At that meeting the fighters were told they could leave and pursue their careers or they could stay and a job would be provided for them by the government. Most of them left. The last pro fight card ever held in Cuba was in December of 1961.
Fernandez, now 66 and in Miami, was one of the middleweight division's hardest hitters and a favorite among his people. He knocked out 18 straight opponents in Havana, a Cuban record. That streak ended in April of 1960, not because a fighter went the distance against Fernandez, but because it was his last fight in Cuba.
"Leaving Cuba effected me in a lot of ways," said Fernandez, who challenged for the title and lost a split decision to Gene Fullmer in 1961. "My mother died four years ago and I was unable to see her. When I was in Mexico, before arriving in Miami, I had the opportunity to fight Dick Tiger but no one could find me."
The exodus also included trainers, managers and promoters. Luis Sarria was a respected trainer and Muhammad Ali's chief masseur. Tuto Zabala Sr., who played on Cuba's national basketball team, went to Jamaica, then Miami before settling in Puerto Rico. According to his son, Tuto Jr., Zabala began promoting fights to raise money to aid forces against Castro.
"He started promoting in 1964," said Tuto Jr. "The first big fight he did was Rocky Rivero against Florentino Fernandez. After the fights, he'd send money to Alpha 66, which is an organization that still exists today. His whole reason for getting into boxing was to fight for the freedom of Cuba. My father was always anti-revolution, anti-Castro."
Many left the island quickly, leaving wives and children behind. Others were already fighting abroad and were told by family members not to come back. Jose Legra was training in Miami but grew so homesick that he returned to Cuba. He was lucky enough to get out again in 1963 and relocated to Spain. While fighting there, under the training of Cuban Kid Tunero, he captured the featherweight title in 1972.
The Cuban Diaspora spread to Mexico, Spain and other Caribbean Islands. But the most densely populated area of Cuban immigrants was Miami. That is where many continued their careers and the Fifth Street Gym became their headquarters.
"I used to go to Cuba about every other week," said Dundee, who ran the Fifth Street Gym and worked with Rodriguez, Ramos and Napoles. "I used to bring American fighters over and I got to know the Cuban promoters. When Castro outlawed pro boxing, they came over here and it was, 'Please, Angelo work with me.' Really, it was my pleasure to work with them."
While Havana hosted the 1915 heavyweight title fight between Jack Johnson and Jess Willard, the history of the sport from a Cuban perspective begins with Eligio Sardinias-Montalbo, better known throughout the world as Kid Chocolate.
Chocolate was the first Cuban-born world champ. He won the featherweight and junior lightweight crowns in a career that spanned 1928-38. To boxing's elder historians, Chocolate is the finest fighter to emerge from the island. Part of his allure was his ability to entertain. He fought with a flair and rhythm that was decades ahead of his time.
"Sugar Ray Robinson was a great admirer of Kid Chocolate," said Fausto Miranda, a former Cuban journalist who covered many of Chocolate's fights. "No other man, no other Cuban, did in the ring what Chocolate did. For style, he was the best. Fancy, fancy, fancy."
The next great Cuban export was Kid Gavilan (Gerardo Gonzalez), a welterweight champion from 1951-54. Another showman, he introduced boxing to the "bolo punch," a looping, whirling uppercut that was more flashy than it was effective. Known as "The Cuban Hawk," Gavilan twice fought Sugar Ray Robinson and defeated the likes of Ike Williams, Beau Jack and Billy Graham in his 143-bout pro career.
"Gavilan was a hero to the people of Cuba," said Chico Vejar, who lost to him in 1956. "He was very busy during a fight. When you did something to get an edge against him he always seemed to have a way to neutralize it. He was a fan's fighter. He was very flashy, very colorful."
When the debate over Cuba's best fighter is waged among modern boxing experts, it centers around Gavilan and Luis Rodriguez, who won the welterweight title in 1963. Joe Miceli is one of three men to have fought Gavilan and Rodriguez, dropping a split decision to Gavilan at Madison Square Garden in 1950 and getting stopped by Rodriguez in Havana in 1959.
"I didn't know much about Rodriguez when we fought," said Miceli. "He was a slick boxer and he went on to be champion. But Gavilan was great. He was a real showman. He was very cute in the ring. The crowd liked him. He did things in the ring long before Muhammad Ali."
It would be Rodriguez, however, who had an important affect on Ali at the Fifth Street Gym. "Luis was very fond of Muhammad and vice versa," said historian Hank Kaplan. "Even though Luis was a welterweight, they occasionally sparred. Muhammad always studied Luis in the gym. There is no question that Muhammad incorporated some of what he saw in Luis into his own repertoire."
Rodriguez and compatriot Benny "Kid" Paret emerged as top-rated welters in the late 1950s. Although Rodriguez decisioned him twice in Havana, Paret would get the opportunity to fight for the title first. He won the crown from Don Jordan in 1960 but would lose it a year later to Hall-of-Famer Emile Griffith.
Paret managed to regain the title from Griffith but their third meeting would prove tragic for the Cuban. At Madison Square Garden, fighting before a national television audience, Paret was knocked out in the 12th round and slipped into a coma. He would die 10 days later at the age of 25.
The specter of Paret's death and the brilliant career of Griffith would forever overshadow Rodriguez.
Rodriguez , who died in 1996, fought Griffith four times between 1960-64. Of those bouts, three were awarded to Griffith via split decision. Rodriguez' victory, the night he won the title in 1963, was the only unanimous verdict in the series. Similar to Gavilan and Chocolate, Rodriguez was also a stylist, an artful boxer who turned pugilism into poetry.
"In my opinion, Rodriguez was the best Cuban fighter ever," said Frankie Otero, a Cuban-born former lightweight contender. "He was hard to decipher. He would outbox the boxers and outthink the punchers. He wasn't spectacular, like Gavilan but I pick him based on the number of top welterweights and middleweights he beat."
While Rodriguez and the others were clearly a displaced people, they were considered fortunate. There were fighters who didn't make it out. One of them was Antonio "Puppy" Garcia.
"The biggest idol in Cuba was a kid named Puppy Garcia," recalled Dundee. "He was exciting. He was a brawler and a bleeder.
They loved him in the fight clubs in Havana." Dundee was arranging for Garcia to fight Hogan "Kid" Bassey for the featherweight title in 1961. But Garcia disappeared.
"My career stopped because I was sent to jail for nine years," said Garcia, now 68 and in Miami. "I was against the communist party. That was 1961. I was 27 when I was sent to jail. I couldn't continue boxing because they smashed my ankle. In 1963, we were celebrating the 24th of February, which is a very patriotic day in Cuba. The guards surrounded me with guns and started beating me. They smashed my ankle. It was horrible."
Garcia finally left on the Mariel boat lift of 1980, a voyage made possible when the United States agreed to accept Cuba's political prisoners. The event gained notoriety after it was discovered that Castro sent criminals and the mentally ill among those seeking political asylum. While Garcia got out, his 77-year-old brother, Lino, a national featherweight champ who twice fought Sandy Saddler, remains in Cuba.
"He was out of Cuba for a while and then came back before Castro took over," said Garcia. "Now they have him isolated because he is not with the regime. He was once a hero. If you are not part of the communist party, you don't exist."
That is another sad chapter of the triumphant, but often lamentable, history of Cuban boxing. The recent Olympic heroes are exulted while the government has practically erased the existence of the country's great pros. The exception is Kid Chocolate, who fought his last five bouts in Havana and lived on the island until his death in 1988. His commitment to remain in Cuba earned him a burial plot in the cemetery for significant Cubans and a Havana boxing stadium named in his honor.
Kid Gavilan is a different story. He also returned to Cuba after his career but grew disenchanted with the government when it built a highway through the middle of his farm. He was also insulted by the $200-per month pension he was offered. He left a wife and other family members behind when he got out in 1968. Today, at the age of 76, he lives in a nursing home in Hialeah, Florida.
"I loved the Cuban fans then and I love them today," said Gavilan, speaking through interpreter Eddie Soler. "My country loves me. Even with Castro, they still love me. I fought all over the world and I can tell you that Cuba is the most beautiful nation in the whole wide world. I love Cuba. I hope to see my family again. But Castro would have to be dead. He hurt all the families of Cuba."
That is a common theme among Cuba's last generation of pro fighters. Absent from their home for decades, they still love Cuba while bitterly resenting Castro.
"I became an American citizen 15 years ago, but I still consider myself primarily Cuban," said Fernandez. "To me, Cuba was the greatest country in the world. Then Castro took over."
WHEN FIDEL CASTRO banned professional sports from Cuba in 1962, the dreams of thousands of fighters died along with the notion that El Presidente would establish a democratic government. In the decade that preceded Castro's revolution, many world-class fighters came from Cuba. Who knows how many more would have emerged if not for the ban.
As the revolution triumphed and Communism took hold of the island, new dreams were being sold to fighters. Don't fight for money, fight for Cuba. Don't fight for fame, fight for pride. Viva Cuba! Viva Fidel!
The talent pool remained the same but the objective changed.
Cuba, a nation of slightly more than 11 million people and roughly the size of Pennsylvania, has produced an alarming number of Olympic champions. A country that once hailed Kid Chocolate and Kid Gavilan as heroes, now boasts an amateur team that dominated international competition for three decades. The mystique of the Cuban national team remains potent even as Communism crumbled throughout the world. It remains a source of pride for a country that is decaying structurally and financially.
"I admire the Cuban athletes because they know the world shuns their country," said former WBO heavyweight champ Michael Bentt. "When they compete, it's their way of saying, "We are just as good as you without all those resources.'
To the members of the Cuban national team, boxing is a way of life. It provides them with perks - houses and cars - not readily accessible to their fellow citizens. It also provides them with a way out of Communism, should they desire to make such a bold move.
"We were always in the gym," said Dyosbelis Hurtado, a Cuban amateur star who defected and is now WBA junior welterweight champion. "We tried to be in the gym all the time because if you were good enough you got to represent Cuba all over the world. That gave us the chance to see what was out there. To get new shoes, clothes, to buy things and then show them off when we came home."
What they showed off most were shiny gold medals. In 1991, Cuba hosted the Pan Am Games and won 11 of 12 weight classes. At the 1992 Olympics, Cuba won seven golds, the most by any country in a non-boycotted Olympics. In the most recent Olympics - the 2000 Games of Sydney - Cuba won six medals, four of them gold. Since 1972, the country has won 27 boxing gold medals, an alarming figure considering they boycotted in '84 and '88.
The staples of Cuba's success are conditioning and discipline. It's been said they fight the last round harder than the first. Few familiar with the program argue against it. Vic Zimet, a former USA Boxing coach of the year, brought an American team to Cuba in 1985. The team included future heavyweight champ Michael Moorer, 1988 Olympic bronze medalist Kenny Gould and future light heavyweight champ William Guthrie.
"There is no question they were the best amateur boxing program in the world at that time and they are still a force," said Zimet. "Physically, they are more mature than our kids. The Cubans stay in the program until they are maybe 30 years old. On the first night, Cuba won 10 of 11 matches. Felix Savon won by knock out and Juan Lemus defeated Gould, 4-0. Moorer was the only one to win a fight on the trip. The second night we fought almost an entirely different set of fighters and Cuba won all eight matches."
The man credited with building the dynasty is Alcides Sagarra, a strict disciplinarian who began coaching in 1964. Also instrumental was Andrei Chervorenko, a Soviet coach sent to share training techniques as a display of Communism solidarity. Ironically, after Cuba began to outshine the Soviet Union at international competitions, Chervorenko was summoned home.
Like all Communist regimes, Cuba scouted talent at a young age and channeled potential athletes into state-sponsored athletic schools. "I didn't choose boxing," said Cuban defector Juan Carlos Gomez in a recent interview. "They chose it for me in Cuba. I wanted to become a baseball player. That was always my dream. But, you know, in Cuba you are not allowed to make your own decisions."
Sagarra exploited the system to perfection. His outward appearance suggests perpetual angst but he deserves credit for blending the rhythm and culture of Cuba with strict Soviet training habits to produce great fighters. He is a staunch Communist and was rewarded with a post on Cuba's National Technical Committee after stepping down as coach in 2001. His demeanor and politics, though, could strain his relationship with fighters.
"Let me say this so you understand," said Hurtado, speaking through his trainer, Felix Pintor. "As a sportsman, in the corner, when he's talking boxing, he's excellent."
When pressed further, Hurtado added, "To be a kind guy, it doesn't take away from being a tough guy. What I didn't like about him is the way he thinks about Communism."
If Sagarra was the backbone of Cuban boxing, the face shown to the world belonged to a pair of heavyweights. Teofilo Stevenson was the first star and was followed by the towering presence of 6-foot-6 Felix Savon. They each won three Olympic gold medals. The first glimpse of Savon came at the 1986 World Championships just as Stevenson was saying goodbye. At that tournament, Savon won the first of five titles at 201 pounds while Stevenson won his last fighting at super heavyweight.
"The first time I fought Savon I lost a 4-1 decision in the quarterfinals of the 1987 Pan Am Games," said Bentt. "Then I fought him a week later at the North American championships and lost, 3-2. To me, he utilizes everything to perfection -- his height, his jab, his power and his intimidation. The Cuban fighters smell fear in their opponents. If they can intimidate you, they've got you. They psychologically steamroll guys."
Shannon Briggs fought Savon at the 1991 Pan Am Games. "I'll give Savon his credit," said Briggs. "He won the fight. But I think he took advantage of the system. He was a man fighting kids. That's the case with a lot of these Cuban fighters. They're 28, 29, 30 fighting kids, 19, 20, 21. That's a big advantage physically and mentally."
There has been much debate over what kind of pros Savon and Stevenson would have made. Don King once offered Savon $10 million to turn pro. His response was, "What do I need $10 million for when I have 11 million Cubans behind me."
Hurtado, who calls Savon a friend, said he was a great fighter but pointed out that he was knocked out 18 times throughout his illustrious career. It should be acknowledged that many of those came in lesser competitions where it could be argued that Savon wasn't as focused as he would have been for the Olympics. But it should also be noted that they occurred against lesser opposition, while wearing headgear and using larger gloves. Nonetheless, his ability to take a punch, particularly in the pro ranks, would have been the biggest question mark confronting Savon.
Several times in the '70s promoters tried to arrange a match between Muhammad Ali and Stevenson. Frankie Otero, a former lightweight contender who was born in Havana but moved to America, says, "I respect them as amateur fighters but you get people just off the boat and they swear that Stevenson would have knocked Ali out. In my opinion it wouldn't have been a fight. Ali was one of the greatest fighters in history. Stevenson was a three-round fighter. In the pros, it's a different ballgame."
Zimet, the USA coach who saw Stevenson fight and had worked in the opposite corner from Ali in the pros, agrees. "I can't see how Stevenson would have beaten him," he said. "Ali's experience and natural talent would have been too much for him."
The strongest argument for Ortero's case is Jorge Luis Gonzalez, a 6-foot-7 Cuban heavyweight who beat Lennox Lewis and Riddick Bowe in the amateurs. In 1991, Gonzelaz became the first Cuban boxer of any magnitude to defect when he sought political asylum at a tournament in Finland. Luis DeCubas, a Cuban-American boxing manager, brought him back to the states. Gonzalez won his first 23 fights before being stopped by Bowe in the sixth round of a WBO heavyweight title bout. He was subsequently stopped by Tim Witherspoon, Ross Puritty and Michael Grant.
But DeCubas refuses to stereotype Cuban amateurs based on Gonzalez. "Cuba produced great pros for many years," he said. "Why would that change? I believe if you were a great amateur, you can be a great pro. They say Cuban amateurs burn out. Pernell Whitaker, Meldrick Taylor, they had hundreds of amateur fights and were great pros."
* * *
THE DECISION to walk away from your family and home is filled with torment and uncertainty. But more and more Cubans are fleeing their country. While athletes have the opportunity to defect while competing overseas, desperate Cubans often board make-shift rafts hoping to reach Miami, 90 miles to the north. Experts believe that 60-percent of rafters die on their journey to freedom.
"I'm grateful my family brought me to freedom," said DeCubas, who left Cuba in 1966 at the age of nine. "It's a very hard ordeal. Cuban culture is very family oriented. Personally, I don't think I could have done what some of these fighters have."
Hurtado often thought about leaving to pursue a pro career. The right opportunity finally came in 1994 after the team competed in Connecticut and stopped for a layover in Miami. As his teammates slept, Hurtado dashed from the hotel. He was 22 years old and knew he'd never go home again.
"I was not afraid," he said. "But it was the toughest decision I've ever made because of my family. My mama, papa and seven brothers are still in Cuba. I don't know how many more years will pass before I see them. Will I ever see them again? Yes, in beautiful pictures they send me."
"I would like to go back to my country, but I can't," he added. "And why? Because I am a boxer. Because I wanted to make a living. That is a stupid reason."
Two of the most high-profile defections were made by Joel Casamayor and Ramon Garbey. They left five days apart from Cuba's Olympic training camp in Mexico just weeks before the 1996 Olympics.
Casamayor, a gold medalist at the 1992 Olympics, was infuriated by the Cuban government after it rewarded him with a bicycle upon returning home with the gold. He believes it was punishment for not joining the Communist Youth Party.
As more fighters made their way out of Cuba, a promotional company called Team Freedom was started by Leon Margules, Roger Haber and DeCubas. The group initially totaled 14 fighters. Of that number, nine remain active. Aside from Hurtado and Casamaor, the results have been mixed. Elicer Castillo left Cuba on a raft when he was just the 5th-best light heavyweight in Cuba. Today, despite losses to Tim Witherspoond and Chris Byrd, he is a top-10 heavyweight.
The biggest disappointment has been Garbey, a former world champion and Pan Am gold medallist. He's 16-3 as a pro with the losses coming in succession to Fres Oquendo, James Toney and Napolean Tagoe. "He was one of the most talented fighters I had ever seen," said DeCubas. "But he couldn't concentrate and stay with his training. When these young men are exposed to freedom, it becomes difficult. The first year is crucial to keeping them focused. They have to learn a new system, a new language, new training. And they miss their family."
Of Garbey, Hurtado added: "He was one of the best fighters in Cuba. He's a great friend of mine. I love him. When we are in this country, he does what he wants and I do what I want. My life is training and fighting. I don't know which life he chose."
In the absence of biological family, the fighters who have defected consider each other family, much like the generation of Cuban fighters of the early 1960s. "Casamayor is another friend of mine," said Hurtado. "He lives in Los Angeles now, but we talk whenever we can. I know that every time I fight, all of them pray that I will be the winner. And I do the same thing every time a Cuban fights."
* * *
WHEN COMMUNISM collapsed in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, many predicted the demise of Fidel Castro's reign. The Cuban economy was hurt severely because it relied on support from the Soviet Union. Also stifling the country's economic growth is an ongoing U.S. embargo that prohibits trade with Cuba.
Frankie Otero, the former lightweight contender whose family left Cuba when he was a child, returned for the first time last year. "The architecture is phenomenal but they haven't maintained it for 40 years," he said. "So it's decaying. It's like seeing a beautiful woman at the age of 20 and then again when she is 50 years old. She is older, but you can still see some of the beauty."
Many of the former pro fighters who left Cuba around the time of Castro's revolution still have a great deal of pride in their homeland. The mighty Cuban boxing dynasty, however, is a source of resentment, not pride.
"When Teofilio Stevenson fought Duane Bobick in the Olympics," said Otero, "I was rooting for Bobick. Maybe because one was American and one was a Communist. That was 30 years ago I was more Cuban then than I am now."
Florentino Fernandez, a former middleweight contender who has been living in Miami for 40 years, said, "I watched Stevenson and the Cuban fighters on television but I didn't really root for him. They were fighting for Castro. I didn't like that."
In perhaps an effort to stem defections and bring more money into Cuba,
Castro has allowed some athletes - including baseball legend Omar Linares -- to compete professionally in other countries (the Unites States is not included). The government, of course, takes a cut.
Will Castro ever allow the same for his boxers?
"He's talked so negatively about pro boxing that he'd never do it," said DeCubas, who Castro once labeled a pirate and gangster during a radio address. "The party line is that pro boxing is corrupt. It would contradict everything he's said."
Much like the nation, the Cuban boxing dynasty has changed as well. Sagarra is no longer the coach and Savon has retired because international rules prohibit a fighter from competing after the age of 34. Other veterans, Mario Kindelan and Hector Vinent have also retired.
But Hurtado believes the program remains strong and says that there many, many young and hungry fighters to replace those who have retired.
Hurtado says some of the proudest moments of his life came while representing Cuba in the ring but admits to dreaming of a free Cuba, of reuniting with his family, with "my people, my food, the country of my birth." To many Cuban-Americans, a free nation would be a victory for democracy, for human rights. When he thinks of a free Cuba, he can't help but think about the impact it would have on boxing.
"If Cuba was free and Cuban boxers were allowed to be pro," he says. "I think in each weight division we'd have a world champion."
A condensed version of this story was originally pubished in Boxing Digest
The Cuban Roll Call
There are five Cuban-born fighters enshrined in the International Boxing Hall of Fame in Canastota, New York -- Kid Chocolate, Kid Gavilan, Luis Rodriguez, Ultimino Ramos and Jose Napoles. The top three are generally considered Chocolate, Gavilan and Rodriguez.
Former lightweight Frankie Otero says because Cubans were fighting all over the world, they had incorporated moves from New York, Miami, Philadelphia and Mexico in their Cuban brand of boxing. "But the one thing we always had was the attitude that Cubans never quit," he said. "That was the big thing. We had this pride. Yes, our country was under a dictatorship and things aren't good there, but Cubans had this attitude that it was us against the world."
Hall of Famer Emile Griffith tested the best of the Cubans, winning three of four from Rodriguez, two of three from Benny Paret, decisioning Isaac Logart, Florentino Fernandez and Jose Stable as well as being stopped by Napoles. Griffith's trainer Gil Clancy offers this assessment.
"Other than all of them being very good fighters, they didn't really have common characterstics," he said. "Luis Rodriguez was the best and Florentino Fernandez was the most the dangerous. Rodriguez knew how to use the clock. He knew how to win rounds. He was a busy fighter. He was a very good boxer but not as good a puncher as Fernandez. Fernandez could knock out a horse." A look at some notable Cuban fighters:
Kid Chocolate: Cuba's first world champion ... world junior lightweight champion 1931 ... Fought the best of his era: Al Singer, Fidel LaBarba, Tony Canzoneri, Jackie "Kid" Berg, Benny Bass.
Black Bill (Eladio Valdes): stablemate of Kid Chocolate ... lost to Midget Wolgast for the vacant flyweight title in 1930 ... beat world champ Corp. Izzy Schwartz three times.
Kid Tunero (Evalio Mustelier): middleweight who beat Ezzard Charles in 1942 ... also beat champs Anton Christoforidis and Ken Overlin
Kid Gavilan: welterweight champ … elected to boxing Hall of Fame in 1990 … beat fellow hall-of-famers Billy Graham, Ike Williams, Beau Jack and Carmen Basilio … lost to Sugar Ray Robinson twice.
Nino Valdes: turned pro 1941... heavyweight contender who beat Ezzard Charles in 1953 … Lost decisions to Harold Johnson and Archie Moore … Was knocked out by Sonny Liston.
Isaac Logart: turned pro 1949 ... No. 1 rated welterweight ... Beat Virgil Akins, Gil Turner, Gasper Ortega, Joe Miceli ... Fought Griffith and Benvenuti.
Angel "Robinson" Garcia: turned pro 1955 ... journeyman who fought in 21 countries ... 225 fights ... fought Eddie Perkins, Ismael Laguna, Roberto Duran, Esteban DeJesus and Wilfred Benitez.
Orlando Zulueta: fought from 1946-1962 ... lightweight and junior lightweight contender ... Lost junior lightweight title fight to Sandy Saddler in 1949 and lightweight title bout to Joe Brown in 1957 ... Beat Don Jordan, Jimmy Carter and Paddy DeMarco.
Benny "Kid" Paret: turned pro 1955 ... welter champ 1960 … Challenged Fullmer for middleweight title and was knocked out … Beat Don Jordan, Federico Thompson and Emile Griffith
Florentino Fernandez: turned pro 1956 ... beat Paddy DeMarco, Ralph Dupas, Gasper Ortega and Jose Torres … Lost split decision to Gene Fullmer in 1961 middleweight title fight.
Luis Rodriguez: turned pro 1956 ... welter champ 1963 … Beat Virgil Akins, Emile Griffith, Denny Moyer, Hurricane Carter, George Benton ... Challenged Nino Benvenuti for middleweight title ... Inducted into Hall of Fame 1997.
Ultimino Sugar Ramos: turned pro 1957 ... fought out of Mexico ... won featherweight title 1963 ... Fought Vicente Saldivar and Carlos Ortiz twice … Elected to Boxing Hall of Fame in 2001
Doug Vaillant: turned pro 1957 ... lost 1963 lightweight title fight to Carlos Ortiz ... Beat Len Matthews, Dave Charnley and drew with Carlos Hernandez
Jose "Mantequilla" Napoles: Turned pro 1958 ... fought out of Mexico ... welter champ 1969 & 1971 ... Beat Curtis Cokes, Emile Griffith, Hedgemon Lewis, Ernie Lopez ... Inducted into Hall of Fame, 1990.
Jose Stable: turned pro 1959 ... Lost decision to Griffith in 1965 title bout ... Beat Curtis Cokes, Billy Collins, Stan "Kitten Hayward, Kenny Lane
Jose Legra: turned pro 1960 ... fought out of Spain ... won featherweight title 1968 & 1972 ... fought Rafiu King, Howard Winstone, Johnny Famechon, Vicente Saldivar, Eder Jofre, Alexis Arguello.
Frankie Otero: turned pro 1968 ...North American junior lightweight champ ... Twice fought Ken Buchanan.
Roberto Balado, super heavyweight … Olympic gold 1992 … World Champion 1989, 1993 … Pan Am gold 1991 … junior World Champion 1987 … Died tragically in a car accident.
Joel Casamayor, bantamweight ... Olympic gold in 1992, defeating Wayne McCullough in finals … junior World Champion in 1989 … defected 1996 and turned pro … WBA junior lightweight champion 1999
Angel Espinosa, junior middleweight and middleweight ... World Champion 1986 … 2-time Cuban national champion … junior World Champion 1983 … 1987 World Cup … Pan Am gold 1987 … Missed Olympics during prime due to 1984 and 1988 boycotts … Competed in 1992 Olympics and lost in quarterfinals … Beat Henry Maske as amateur.
Rolando Garbey, junior middleweight … Three-time Olympian, silver in 1968 and bronze in 1976 ... Pan Am gold 1967, 1971 and 1975 ... World Champion 1974 …Uncle of Ramon Garbey.
Juan Carlos Gomez, cruiserweight … junior World Champion 1990 … defected 1995 and turned pro … WBC cruiserweight champion 1998 … 36-0 … based in Germany, currently competes at heavyweight.
Adolfo Horta ... World Champion four times, in three different weight classes - bantamweight, featherweight and lightweight … won 1981 World Cup ... Pan Am gold 1979, 1983 … silver medal at 1980 Olympics … Boycott denied him opportunity to compete in second Olympics.
Dyosbelis Hurtado, junior welterweight … 2-time National Champion … junior World Champion 1991 … defected 1994 and turned pro … WBA junior welterweight champ 2002.
Felix Savon, heavyweight … Olympic Gold 1992, 1996 and 2000 ... Pan Am Gold in 1987, 1991 ... World Champion 1986, 1989, 1991 and 1993 ... Amateur record of 358-17 ... Defeated pros Ray Mercer, Michael Bentt, Shannon Briggs, David Tua, Kirk Johnson and Andrew Golota.
Teofilo Stevenson, heavyweight … Olympic Gold 1972, 1976 and 1980 .. Pan Am Gold 1975, 1979 ... World Champion 1974, 1978 and 1986 ... Amateur record of 301-20 ... Defeated pros Duane Bobick, John Tate, Tony Tubbs, Michael Dokes and Tyrell Biggs
Hector Vinent, junior welterweight ... Olympic Gold in 1992, 1996 … World Champion in 1993 .... junior World Champion 1990 … Has retired due to detatched retina
