THEY are the fighting-cocks of boxing, the battling bantamweights. Small in stature, but big on excitement, they’ve featured in some of the most memorable fights in ring history.
Here, Mike Lockley assesses the all time greats at the weight. But be warned, it’s something of a Mexican feast.
10. Alfonso Zamora
Yes, Zamora could be outboxed, could be vulnerable, but for sheer excitement there have been few to come close to the Mexican. Putting it simply, Zamora either got you – and he usually got you – or he was worn down.
I have never seen a bantamweight puncher to rival Zamora, but, unfortunately, his time in the sunshine coincided with the rise of Mexico’s other “Z Man”, Carlos Zarate. The two met in 1977, with Zarate, equally powerful, but more polished, winning decisively.
Zamora, a former Olympic silver medallist, won a portion of the world title by KO in 1975, sparking out Soo-Hwan Hong in four rounds. Zamora racked-up five defences, all by stoppage, before being put in his place by Zarate.
The passion faded after that. At just 24, Zamora was on the scrap heap.
His luck had not run out, however. Zamora won a fortune on the Mexican state lottery, a massive windfall that will ensure his financial security.
9. Fighting Harada
Harada had the do-or-die courage fans have come to expect from Japanese fighters, but the bravery was liberally laced with outstanding ability.
He won the title from the greatest of them all, Jofre, in 1965 and defended four times before being dethroned by Lionel Rose in 1968. Harada had previously held the flyweight title.
He retired in 1970 having won 55 of 62 bouts.
8. Joe Lynch
Who had the best “chin” in boxing? Probably Lynch, a New Yorker who was never stopped in close to 160 fights. At flyweight, Lynch was beaten by our own Jimmy Wilde, the Prince of Wales stepping through the ropes to congratulate the Welshman. But at bantam, tough Lynch’s short frame cast a very long shadow.
Lynch, who sported the scar tissue and flattened nose of a rugged, face-first fighter, took the title from Pete Herman in 1920, lost it to the same fighter a year later, then regained the crown by beating Johnny Buff.
Abe Goldstein ended his world title aspirations with a points win in 1924.
Lynch’s 1965 death is shrouded in mystery. He was found, barely alive, floating face-first in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, and died en route to the hospital.
7. Pedlar Palmer
Not the sharpest tool in the box, Pedlar, a star during the game’s infancy. The worst thing they could do was hand the champ a cheque book, spawning a lavish spending spree. Pedlar was stunned when the bank told him all his cash had gone, telling the clerk: “It can’t have – I’ve still got all these cheques left in my book.”
The former circus acrobat was a genius in the ring, however – an unorthodox, elusive fighter dubbed “Box O’ Tricks”. He took the title with a 14th round win over Brummie Billy Plimmer in 1895 and made five defences before travelling to New York to face Terrible Terry McGovern. Snarling McGovern took just one round to demolish the Cockney craftsman, and Pedlar’s reputation never recovered from the 1899 mauling.
Baby-faced Palmer was a heavy drinker and, boozed-up, he killed a man in 1907. Robert Croat died from injuries sustained during a brawl with the boxer on a train to Epsom Races.
Pedlar served five years for manslaughter.
A bookmaker for the last 20 years of his life, Pedlar died in 1949 aged 72.
6. Manuel Ortiz
Another Mexican, albeit born on Californian soil, Ortiz stunning stats speak for themselves. After taking the title from Lou Salica in 1942, he made 15 defences before bowing to Harold Dade five years later. Ortiz regained the crown in a rematch and made five more defences before South African Vic Toweel ended his tenure.
Ortiz also made waves in the amateur ranks. Bobby Hagar was dropped 17 times in their first fight, 20 in their second. Hagar went on to make his own mark, but not in boxing: son Sammy was frontman for rock band Van Halen.
Ortiz won 100 of 131 bouts, but ended with nothing to show for his 17 year career. In 1970, penniless Ortiz died of cirrhosis of the liver aged 50.
5. Jeff Chandler
The only fighter on the list that I’ve watched from ringside, Joltin Jeff, gangling and with knockout power pulsing through his long muscles, was an ice-cold, smooth assassin.
Product of Philly’s mean streets, Chandler’s long championship tenure hit only one blip – and it wasn’t caused by a fellow boxer. He was stabbed during a 1982 streetfight, but recovered to resume his glittering career.
Chandler took the title in 1980 from Julian Solis and made nine title defences before being toppled by unbeaten Richie Sandoval in 1984. He never fought again, undergoing eye surgery to have cataracts removed. Chandler, with 33 wins in 37 fights, wisely decided the risk of blindness was too great.
4. Panama Al Brown
Brown’s story is far from the fighting norm. He came to Paris to fight, fell under the city’s spell and became the lover of acclaimed French writer Jean Cocteau: For those not too hot on existential authors, Jean was a man.
He also joined the La Revue Negre as a tap dancer.
From all accounts, Brown was an extremely flamboyant gay man who raised eyebrows over here in 1931 when he arrived to face Cockney Teddy Baldock with a wardrobe assistant and 15 hand-tailored silk shirts. The Central American had the last laugh, overwhelming Teddy in 12 rounds.
He was a freak of nature, standing 5ft 11ins yet weighing less than nine stone.
Brown took the title from Gregorio Vidal in 1929 and held various versions of the title until 1938. In that time he proved the scourge of British boxers, beating the best we had to offer.
He died penniless in New York in 1951 from TB. Brown, a veteran of 155 fights, was only 48.
3. Ruben Olivares
The Mexican may have liked tequila a lot more than training, but the game’s probably never seen a more exciting fighter. As Olivares’ partying increased, his fights followed a familiar pattern: he’d either spectacularly overpower opponents early on or run out of gas down the stretch.
Olivares, his native Indian features crowned by a Beatles haircut, carried dynamite power in his left hook – the favoured weapon of Mexican sluggers. And he was past-master of the shot that has become synonymous with fighters forged in the country’s sprawling barrios, a paralysing left hook to the liver.
Our own Alan Rudkin, a superb boxer who had lost narrowly in two previous world title attempts, would testify to Olivares’ concussive qualities. He travelled to Los Angeles to meet the barrel-chested champ in 1969 and lasted just over five minutes.
Rudkin was paid handsomely for being put through the Mexican meat-grinder: £12,000 was an awful lot of wonga in those days. He admitted afterwards: “He’s the greatest, there’s nobody to compare with him. Every time he hits, he numbs. I didn’t even feel the punches that put me on the floor, and those are the ones that really hurt.”
One of 12 children, Olivares was a box office sensation, adored by Mexicans both sides of the border. He had won 53 on the spin before taking the world title from Aussie Lionel Rose in ‘69. He engaged in three Mexican megafights with the country’s pin-up puncher, Chucho Castillo, winning two, but. with weight making becoming an increasing ordeal, was halted by Rafael Herrera.
His days as a bantam were over. Ruben moved up to featherweight, but the fire in his belly had dimmed. He twice lifted the feather crown and memorably beat Bobby Chacon, the darling of Californian fight fans.
Bad living had made him vulnerable. Alexis Arguello, Danny Lopez and Eusebio Pedroza – all great fighters – halted him. Ruben quit for good in 1988, having won 89 of his 105 contests.
2. Carlos Zarate
Traditionally, the 8st 6lbs class has been the domain of Mexico’s very best boxers – and the South American country has produced few better than Zarate, whose lanky frame hid whiplash power in either hand.
Zarate was a bantam with a big, big punch. After turning pro in 1970, he peeled-off 23 straight knockouts, with only three of his opponents surviving past the third round.
After Victor Ramirez had the audacity to last the distance, Carlos flattened another 20 opponents in succession. In 1976, he took the world title from countryman Rodolfo Martinez and went on to defend eight times.
Unlike many of the legends who dominated the lighter weights, Zarate featured in two legitimate super-fights. In 1977 he met fellow Mexican Alfonso Zamora, who held a rival version of the world title, in a mouthwatering clash of Latin knockout artists. Zarate won in four.
He came spectacularly unstuck when stepping out of his weight class to face brilliant Puerto Rican Wilfredo Gomez for the super-bantamweight title. Despite fighting in a heavier division, it was Zarate who struggled to make the weight, taking four trips to the scales before hitting 8st 10lbs. Weakened by the rigours of shifting stubborn pounds, Zarate was overwhelmed in five rounds.
He returned to bantam, losing the title to Mexican Lupe Pintor on split decision in 1979, a result generally regarded as highway robbery. Zarate made a comeback seven years later and didn’t do badly. He won 12 against modest opposition before losing to world super-bantam champ Jeff Fenech on a technical decision.
King Carlos hung up his gloves for good in 1988 after losing to Daniel Zaragoza.
1. Eder Jofre
Brazil isn’t particularly big on boxing – soccer’s the only beautiful game in the land of samba. But in Jofre – one of the few vegetarians to taste world title glory – it spawned possibly the greatest fighter of all time.
And Jofre, a fitness fanatic, is still in great shape. In 2010, aged 74, he released an exercise video… and it wasn’t for the elderly.
Dubbed The Golden Bantam, Jofre could do it all, box and brawl.
The stats speak for themselves. Jofre won 72 of 78 contest (four draws) and had 50 victories in a row before tasting defeat. He was only floored once in his career.
He captured a portion of the world title by stopping Eloy Sanchez in 1960. During an extremely busy reign, spanning eight championship fights, he gained acceptance as the best bantam out there.
Fighting Harada did the unthinkable by outpointing the brilliant Brazilian in Tokyo in 1965 and Jofre retired after losing the rematch. Harada is the only man to beat Jofre.
He returned in 1969, a few pouds heavier, and took the world featherweight crown in 1973. He defended only once, realising the glory days were rapidly slipping away.
Jofre’s is a life free from the hard-luck stories that blight many ex-pugs. He had a keen business brain and launched a successful supermarket chain after boxing.
