By Jake Donovan
Photo © John Booz/FightWireImages.com

Angel Hernandez was on the comeback trail. A reporter's shoulder was tapped to run a preview piece. Simple enough task, and mission accomplished. Hernandez' story was told prior to his upset win over Louis Turner last Saturday in Hoffman Estates, IL, with the article published on October 11, 2007 on BoxingScene.com (click here for the full article - https://www.boxingscene.com/?m=show&id=10724)

Fans in Chicago loved it, as did those who represent Hernandez. A local radio station – WCRX, whose host Ray Flores boasts the only boxing radio show in Chicago – thought enough of it to mention the subject on his show the morning of the fight. It appeared that, one way or another, everyone involved was touched by an Angel.

Make that almost everyone.

A passage in the article quoted Julio Hernandez, Angel's brother and also currently serving as his manager, as claiming Angel was receiving less than expected while serving with Chicago-based promotional outfit Hitz Boxing, run by former heavyweight boxer Bobby Hitz.

The promoter not only insists that such a claim is untrue, he also asks why Julio discusses him as if he's past tense.

"Before anything else, let me say for the record that Angel Hernandez is still my fighter," insists Hitz, hoping to clear his name after reading Julio Hernandez' comments. "Where Julio gets this free agent crap from, I don't know. Angel is still my fighter, and I'm willing to go to a court of law to prove it."

Now onto what Hitz believes is the more pressing issue.

"Julio is going to learn the hard way that making such disparaging remarks from me is a suicide mission. Where the f*** he gets the idea that I was pocketing all this money from Angel's fights, I have no clue. There were fights where Angel took home $12,000, that apparently his brother believes he was supposed make $30,000. If he has proof of this, I'd love to see it because it was the first I heard he was supposed to make that much.

"Just because someone doesn't get (the boxing business), it doesn't mean he needs to assassinate my character. I worked long and hard for my reputation."

The journey began as a teenager, when, before boxing, Hitz was a standout football player in Bloomington, IL. The scouting report on Hitz (short for Hitzelberger) suggested a future in the NFL. But that never happened. Hitz gravitated toward the sweet science, trading in his helmet and cleats for headgear and gloves, and never looking back.

Unlike other crossover athletes who believe they can punch for pay on athleticism alone, Hitz decided to learn how to crawl before he could walk. "It drives me nuts when people think they can just put on a pair of gloves and "bam" – they're a pro fighter. I spent four, five years in the gym learning how to do s*** right, throw a jab the right way, do my roadwork and taking it seriously. It took four, five years and a Golden Gloves title before I even thought about turning pro."

That day came in 1985, with Hitz turning pro on an undercard headlined by then-undefeated heavyweight contender Tony Tucker. The bout took place in Hammond, IN, with Hitz winning a 1 st round knockout. His next 16 bouts took place in or around the Chicago area, Hitz becoming the very definition of a local attraction. 

"I'd sell $4,000-5,000 whenever I fought. That's what kids today don't understand. They bring 10 people with them, 9 of them with their hands out, and expect to get paid way beyond what they're worth. I wasn't the worst, I wasn't the best. But I earned my keep every time out."

Though never a contender, Hitz was thought of enough to be selected as part of the George Foreman comeback tour. The final bout of Hitz' career came against another former heavyweight champion, Pierre Coetzer. Both ended in the same manner, Hitz showing heart but failing to make it out of the first round.

Bobby Hitz the fighter resurfaced as Bobby Hitz the promoter, after spending enough time with the likes of Emanuel Steward, James Toney and Jackie Kallen. His first show was in May 1994, with Toney as the headliner in a non-title bout. From there, Hitz Boxing would become a fixture in the Chicago area over the course of the next decade. Fighters such as Toney, O'Neil Bell, Andrew Golota, Anthony "Baby" Jones and Angel Hernandez all appeared at one point or another under the Hitz Boxing banner, some for the long haul, others passing through.

All were treated with the respect that Hitz believes every fighter deserves.

" I got f***ed as a fighter plenty of times. That's why I won't ever put a fighter through that. I know what it's like to get taken advantage of. Most promoters and managers don't. To them, it's just a business. To me, I see these kids and it reminds me of when I was out there doing my roadwork at 4AM and going through the trenches. The sport is my passion. I have too much respect for the fight game and the fighters. That's why I would never, ever f*** over another fighter.

"If I was on the witness stand or had 87 shotguns to my head threatening to kill me if I lied, I can say without hesitation that I've done right by my fighters, I never f***d over a fighter."

Such is why the recent comments made by Julio Hernandez cut so deep.

"Here's a kid, first of all he needs to stop calling himself a manager. He's a disc jockey who decided that he needed to get involved with his brother's career. Only he was fully aware of his lack of discipline. So he calls me asking, 'What are we going to do with this kid?'

"What I did with him, was make him a TV fighter, and a known commodity in boxing. Julio wasn't doing that for him. He didn't know what to do, because he's not a manager. I built the kid up, put him on TV, got him world title shot even when he was losing fights. All of that came on my dime. In a span of 14 months I made the kid $130,000. I was lucky if I got back $5,000. All in all, I probably spent $250,000 on the kid, and got back $20,000.

"Does that sound like I made a lot of money?"

So where is the confusion between promoter and manager/brother?

"I don't know where Julio got those figures from. Of course, I can't think like him because I'm not a disc jockey. It's the same reason he shouldn't try to think like a manager or promoter, because he's not either one.

"What I do know is that Angel's contract was restructured once ESPN cut their rights fees. His contract called for a $3,500 minimum, but he was making $14,500. It was restructured when the rights fees changed. When the networks were offering $50,000-100,000 for a show, sure you can pay $25,000. But when Angel made his run, fighters were getting $12,000 or so."

None of which, Hitz insisted, was extracted from Angel's cut.

"Whatever was negotiated on his behalf through all of that, he got."

Including his 2003 fight with Winky Wright, the biggest of Angel's career to date. One that Hitz pushed for, even though he had very little bargaining power.

"Angel lost two out of three fights, and was something like #4 or #6 in the rankings. Ouma and Candelo, who both beat Angel, even if my guy got f***ed in the Ouma fight, were naturally ranked ahead. But after Angel got another win, Candelo, who was also my fighter along with co-promoter Artie Pellulo, and Ouma agreed to fight each other. So I pushed for the Wright fight, accepting whatever was available, which was $40,000, and that's what Angel got. I also offered a $10,000 bonus if he won.

"There was no more available. Roy (Jones) and (Antonio) Tarver made what they made in the main event, and Winky got paid because he was the champion. We were lucky we got the fight, but somehow Angel's people got it in his head that he should've gotten $300,000, so he leaves camp early, shows up looking the way he does, and doesn't give himself a chance to win. As a former fighter, if someone offers me $40,000 and a world title shot, with the possibility of making $1 million in my next fight - to me that's a great opportunity."

Through it all, Hitz always kept an open door policy – with Angel, and any other fighter he has ever worked with. To this day, the two keep an open line of communication.

"The kid comes back because legally, he's still contracted to me. In the last few months, I gave Angel pocket money. I got Angel the fight, $4,000, and it all went to the fighter. You know what Bobby Hitz got? Nothing. I didn't take my money back. We're supposed to push forward and here comes Julio making disparaging and discredited remarks."

Hitz was hoping the reunion with Angel would be like old times. The only familiarity that surfaced, however, was the same old problems. Hitz naturally believes he deserves better.

"If I'm out there negotiating in the fairest way, be it for money or opportunity, I deserve better than to have my character assassinated. When he came to see me in my restaurant and apologized for his behavior. Now, we have the same problem again."

This time, the problems don't appear to be going away without lawyers and a judge present. Hitz is prepared to fight for what he believes and insists is the right thing, though wishes it could be any other way.

"All these years I've spent as a fighter and a promoter, and now it looks like my next show, my next fight, will be in a courtroom. It's the side of the business I truly hate."

But it's also the business he loves, as much as he loves his life as a restaurateur. In order to love something, you have to know it, understand it, and be willing to sacrifice in order make it work. As far as boxing goes, Hitz paid his dues, in and out of the ring, not wearing the hat of a boxer or promoter until fully understanding either aspect. It's when others less in the know begin to meddle, that such conflicts come about.

To that, Hitz offers a simple solution.

"My advice to the Julio Hernandez' of the world - leave the boxing to the boxing people, not to a disc jockey. It's like being in jail, every prisoner is suddenly a jail cell attorney. If they don't get it, they should stay out of the business. I don't tell Julio how to spin records, he shouldn't tell anyone how to do business in boxing."