Just found this on another board.
Part 1:
First of all, Chris, how did you get started in boxing?
I was working as a janitor at a gym in New York and started sparring.
And how old were you?
16. A Bronx boxer called 'The Horse' asked me if I would spar with him, I said 'yes' and I haven't stopped.
You turned pro at 19. Did you box as an amateur?
I started sparring two months before I turned 17 and had my first professional fight two months after I turned 19. And yes, I boxed amateur.
Did you achieve much in your amateur career?
I went 19-7, my amateur career lasted one year, so I averaged a fight every two weeks and took every fight I was offered, mostly around clubs in the Bronx. I won the New York State Youth title and the 1984 Spanish Golden Gloves championship tournament. All my amateur fights were at open class level, so I made my amateur debut in open level; I'd been having gym fights with pros for nine months straight and worked right the way upto two sets of 15 rounds a night and three sets of 12 rounds a night, having started with one set of three rounds which left me near-dead! That was despite training for four months and getting fit before I got in the ring.
My amateur career started through being a late replacement, and it was contested at light heavyweight, above my natural weight at the time; I was stopped in 30 seconds. Every tournament match or title match was at light-middleweight, while the fights I took on short notice were mostly (the) 165lbs weight category.
Did you beat any notable future professionals as an amateur?
There was a fellow called Ricky Thomas who I beat to win the Youth belt. He had some great combinations and caught me left, right and upwards, so I had to rely on aggression to get the nod of the judges. I kept calling him in and all that.
Did you have a natural talent for boxing, then?
Not particularly. Obviously, I had good hand speed in the ring, and speed is natural. Accuracy is speed, because the sooner the punch gets there the more likely it's going to land. I suppose I had good poise, largely down to the way I walked!
But it took me two years to learn how to throw the right hand correctly, and three years after that to learn how to throw the left hook correctly. And four years in total to learn how to throw each bodyshot correctly. I trained seven days a week and abstained from all substances.
I sparred four or five days a week without fail, full-contact sparring at all times. Sparring is where you hone ring intelligence, instincts, infighting and even integrity, not on fight nights, on fight nights you only use - if needed - what you've already done thousands of times in the gymnasium.
The person who thinks about catching a jab will get hit - bang. And that person will flinch if his sparring had been semi-contact. If you flinch, you're giving your opponent one up. It's all about sparring. You get to know when a fighter is hurt and when to move in for the kill. Timing was still one of my best assets after Watson II - knowing when to slow down, you don't necessarily have to speed up all the time to get results. Timing and will, spacing and pacing and not showing pain were some of my best assets.
You never said you loved boxing, so where did your drive to succeed come from?
Well, I did love boxing. I fell in love with the art of boxing, and fell interested in the art of war, which I applied to boxing. I only disliked the worst aspects of boxing; disfigurement, brain injuries and, most of all, distreatment of boxers. To like those aspects of boxing you'd need to be insane.
I loved the nobility of boxing, the constraints of the gymnasium, the rules and regulations that were to be adhered to; that noble behaviour. And I loved what I was - a fighter, a warrior.
In regard to where one's drive came from; I suppose being away from my boxer brothers and having to prove myself to the world and in turn (to) them, because they bullied me as far back as I can remember and that conditions me to want acceptance in life.
Is it true that you fought at Madison Square Garden as an amateur? And did that meaning anything to you?
I put all my eggs into the philosophy basket, so that didn't mean anything to me. I studied the philosophy of the art and the philosophy of fighting intensely, whereas say Mike Tyson for example put most of his eggs into the history basket, and had an encyclopedic knowledge of boxing history.
Is it true that you knew Mike Tyson and Dwight Gooden as a teenager?
They were acquaintances. I would see Mike at various fights and Dwight at VIP's where I was working as a minder. Neither of them were personal friends. Although I got to know Mike personally when I visited him in prison.
I only really had one personal friend in New York and that was a fellow called Ray Rivera, a Puerto Rican who was Golden Gloves champion and trained with me in the Bronx, he would have gone to the Olympics if he didn't get involved in drugs and shot down a year before. He had really fast hands and was just as good as Roy Jones at the time in my view. I was looking forward to going out there with him, and getting noticed on his undercards, because he could have won the Olympics in my view.
Another of my sparring partners, called Bradley (Austin), he was 147lb and also had really fast hands. He would have won the Olympics if he didn't get involved in drugs and have to turn professional to pay his dealer. I have no idea where he is now or how his career panned out. My cousin, Woodia, he sold drugs from New York, and he ended up dead at 27. Drugs are bad.
Who did you model yourself on?
I didn't model myself on anybody.
Any boxing heroes?
Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali. But not for their boxing styles. Tyson for his standard setting and Ali for his integrity. These men inspired me, and I had an excessive determination to be mentioned among them, they even influenced me to embrace Islam!
What about your boxing style, then? Did you model that on anybody's?
As a philosophy, I have actually pointed out to people over the years that the best way for you to become a good boxer is to look at all your favourite fighters and then mould their best qualities into you. Thus you are not treating one fighter as your role model. You are extracting the best bits of others.
I tried to be as poetic as Pernell Whitaker was in the ring, but my style came mostly from my personality; such as holding the hands in half-guard instead of full-guard because I'd always lived life as black or white, hot or cold, and throwing punches untelegraphed from that position - as in life, go straight to your target, that doesn't mean there won't be obstacles in your way, there probably will be, but you still go straight for the target, just disregard potential obstacles, do not lose your focus.
Another reason I held my hands in the half-guard is because the majority of people were drinking heavily, night clubbing, sleeping around, taking drugs; I didn't want to be like these common people, I wanted to be different. Box in the full-guard and no fighter will be scared, because they have been training for that stance all their boxing lives. Box in the half-guard and they have to work out the terrain from scratch, and while they are doing that, you are hitting them.
What I advise youngsters to do is take the best parts of and the techniques of other fighters and try to make them your own. Of course I had to copy people in order to learn. There was a guy at my gymnasium in New York called Dennis Cruz, who I stole a few dances and weaves from, and a fellow there called Solano who I stole a few moves from regarding escape.
I admired greatly the jab of Thomas Hearns, but I wouldn't say my jab was like his. I admired it but I didn't have the same body structure he had, so mine was different. He wore his shorts high, but his hips weren't near his chest like mine were.
So, actually, my style more or less was my own, in accordance to the fact I had a rare body structure that limited me somewhat - for example, I had to learn to do splits and backbends to develop flexibility to assist my style, the former being absolutely excruciating, but that's the price you pay to get to the top.
Part 1:
First of all, Chris, how did you get started in boxing?
I was working as a janitor at a gym in New York and started sparring.
And how old were you?
16. A Bronx boxer called 'The Horse' asked me if I would spar with him, I said 'yes' and I haven't stopped.
You turned pro at 19. Did you box as an amateur?
I started sparring two months before I turned 17 and had my first professional fight two months after I turned 19. And yes, I boxed amateur.
Did you achieve much in your amateur career?
I went 19-7, my amateur career lasted one year, so I averaged a fight every two weeks and took every fight I was offered, mostly around clubs in the Bronx. I won the New York State Youth title and the 1984 Spanish Golden Gloves championship tournament. All my amateur fights were at open class level, so I made my amateur debut in open level; I'd been having gym fights with pros for nine months straight and worked right the way upto two sets of 15 rounds a night and three sets of 12 rounds a night, having started with one set of three rounds which left me near-dead! That was despite training for four months and getting fit before I got in the ring.
My amateur career started through being a late replacement, and it was contested at light heavyweight, above my natural weight at the time; I was stopped in 30 seconds. Every tournament match or title match was at light-middleweight, while the fights I took on short notice were mostly (the) 165lbs weight category.
Did you beat any notable future professionals as an amateur?
There was a fellow called Ricky Thomas who I beat to win the Youth belt. He had some great combinations and caught me left, right and upwards, so I had to rely on aggression to get the nod of the judges. I kept calling him in and all that.
Did you have a natural talent for boxing, then?
Not particularly. Obviously, I had good hand speed in the ring, and speed is natural. Accuracy is speed, because the sooner the punch gets there the more likely it's going to land. I suppose I had good poise, largely down to the way I walked!
But it took me two years to learn how to throw the right hand correctly, and three years after that to learn how to throw the left hook correctly. And four years in total to learn how to throw each bodyshot correctly. I trained seven days a week and abstained from all substances.
I sparred four or five days a week without fail, full-contact sparring at all times. Sparring is where you hone ring intelligence, instincts, infighting and even integrity, not on fight nights, on fight nights you only use - if needed - what you've already done thousands of times in the gymnasium.
The person who thinks about catching a jab will get hit - bang. And that person will flinch if his sparring had been semi-contact. If you flinch, you're giving your opponent one up. It's all about sparring. You get to know when a fighter is hurt and when to move in for the kill. Timing was still one of my best assets after Watson II - knowing when to slow down, you don't necessarily have to speed up all the time to get results. Timing and will, spacing and pacing and not showing pain were some of my best assets.
You never said you loved boxing, so where did your drive to succeed come from?
Well, I did love boxing. I fell in love with the art of boxing, and fell interested in the art of war, which I applied to boxing. I only disliked the worst aspects of boxing; disfigurement, brain injuries and, most of all, distreatment of boxers. To like those aspects of boxing you'd need to be insane.
I loved the nobility of boxing, the constraints of the gymnasium, the rules and regulations that were to be adhered to; that noble behaviour. And I loved what I was - a fighter, a warrior.
In regard to where one's drive came from; I suppose being away from my boxer brothers and having to prove myself to the world and in turn (to) them, because they bullied me as far back as I can remember and that conditions me to want acceptance in life.
Is it true that you fought at Madison Square Garden as an amateur? And did that meaning anything to you?
I put all my eggs into the philosophy basket, so that didn't mean anything to me. I studied the philosophy of the art and the philosophy of fighting intensely, whereas say Mike Tyson for example put most of his eggs into the history basket, and had an encyclopedic knowledge of boxing history.
Is it true that you knew Mike Tyson and Dwight Gooden as a teenager?
They were acquaintances. I would see Mike at various fights and Dwight at VIP's where I was working as a minder. Neither of them were personal friends. Although I got to know Mike personally when I visited him in prison.
I only really had one personal friend in New York and that was a fellow called Ray Rivera, a Puerto Rican who was Golden Gloves champion and trained with me in the Bronx, he would have gone to the Olympics if he didn't get involved in drugs and shot down a year before. He had really fast hands and was just as good as Roy Jones at the time in my view. I was looking forward to going out there with him, and getting noticed on his undercards, because he could have won the Olympics in my view.
Another of my sparring partners, called Bradley (Austin), he was 147lb and also had really fast hands. He would have won the Olympics if he didn't get involved in drugs and have to turn professional to pay his dealer. I have no idea where he is now or how his career panned out. My cousin, Woodia, he sold drugs from New York, and he ended up dead at 27. Drugs are bad.
Who did you model yourself on?
I didn't model myself on anybody.
Any boxing heroes?
Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali. But not for their boxing styles. Tyson for his standard setting and Ali for his integrity. These men inspired me, and I had an excessive determination to be mentioned among them, they even influenced me to embrace Islam!
What about your boxing style, then? Did you model that on anybody's?
As a philosophy, I have actually pointed out to people over the years that the best way for you to become a good boxer is to look at all your favourite fighters and then mould their best qualities into you. Thus you are not treating one fighter as your role model. You are extracting the best bits of others.
I tried to be as poetic as Pernell Whitaker was in the ring, but my style came mostly from my personality; such as holding the hands in half-guard instead of full-guard because I'd always lived life as black or white, hot or cold, and throwing punches untelegraphed from that position - as in life, go straight to your target, that doesn't mean there won't be obstacles in your way, there probably will be, but you still go straight for the target, just disregard potential obstacles, do not lose your focus.
Another reason I held my hands in the half-guard is because the majority of people were drinking heavily, night clubbing, sleeping around, taking drugs; I didn't want to be like these common people, I wanted to be different. Box in the full-guard and no fighter will be scared, because they have been training for that stance all their boxing lives. Box in the half-guard and they have to work out the terrain from scratch, and while they are doing that, you are hitting them.
What I advise youngsters to do is take the best parts of and the techniques of other fighters and try to make them your own. Of course I had to copy people in order to learn. There was a guy at my gymnasium in New York called Dennis Cruz, who I stole a few dances and weaves from, and a fellow there called Solano who I stole a few moves from regarding escape.
I admired greatly the jab of Thomas Hearns, but I wouldn't say my jab was like his. I admired it but I didn't have the same body structure he had, so mine was different. He wore his shorts high, but his hips weren't near his chest like mine were.
So, actually, my style more or less was my own, in accordance to the fact I had a rare body structure that limited me somewhat - for example, I had to learn to do splits and backbends to develop flexibility to assist my style, the former being absolutely excruciating, but that's the price you pay to get to the top.
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