Remembering Jorge Paez

@roughdiamond

BEST I FACED: JORGE PAEZ


Jorge Paez was one of the most colorful characters of the 1980s into the ’90s. His flamboyant and eccentric behavior endeared him to boxing fans during his near-20 year career that yielded two major titles at featherweight.

Paez was born in Mexicali, Mexico, on October 27, 1965, the son of a 1950s-era boxer. When his parents separated, he was raised by his grandmother, who owned the Circus Olvera.


I’ve been performing ever since I was born,” Paez told RingTV.com through Brandon Ayala. “I was an acrobat, cyclist, a clown. I was everything.”

As a youngster Paez fought on the streets. His grandmother gave him some advice, “If you’re going to fight, why don’t you get paid for it?”

His interest was piqued around age, when his uncle took him to the gym. It was far from love at first sight: “I never liked to watch boxing but when I knew I could make money, I stuck with it.”

Paez had only three amateur fights before embarking on a pro career as a 19-year-old.

“El Maromero” (meaning “somersault”) went 25-2-1 over nearly the first four years of his career, exclusively fighting in Mexico, earning a shot at unbeaten IBF 126-pound titlist Calvin Grove.

Paez’s team was able to lure the super-slick African-American south of the border to face their man in August of 1988.

Entering the 15th and final round of a close battle, Grove was slightly ahead. However Paez staged a dramatic rally, dropping Grove three times to win a majority decision.

Looking back Paez says this was his best win, “It was 110 degrees. We fought open air and it was the last 15-round fight in boxing history.”

Both men had interim fights before meeting a in rematch seven months later. This time Paez made sure there was no controversy, stopping the gallant American in the penultimate round.


Such was the Mexican’s popularity, he counted former Los Angeles Lakers owner Jerry Buss as his biggest fan. After the Lakers won the 1988 NBA Championship, Bus presented Paez with his own championship ring.

A couple of months later Paez was scheduled to defend his title against Louie Espinoza. Former ABC “Wide World of Sports” Director of Programming and Associate Producer Bob Yalen vividly recounts a meeting with Paez that illustrates just how eccentric he was.

Yalen and his camera crew met Paez in San Diego and drove for a few hours to Paez’s hometown Mexicali to do a shoot with him ahead of the fight in May of 1989. They took a short break when Paez decided to show off one of his many talents.

“We happened to be at elevation at the time and were on the roadside beside a nice scenic overlook,” recalled Yalen. “Suddenly Jorge said something to the effect that, ‘Let’s see what I can still do,’ and we were all aghast as he went over to the railing overlooking a couple of hundred-foot drop and proceeded to do a handstand on the railing, no nets, nothing to catch him, if he happened to go over the other side. Nobody moved. We were all so stunned at what he was doing, as he held the position for a little while before coming back to Earth.

“He then asked us if we wanted to film it if he did it again. Against my own common sense, I quickly agreed and the cameraman was able to get his gear quickly and we got some shots of Jorge doing his ‘high-wire act’ again – completely fearless, completely without hesitating and a complete showman – I can’t remember exactly what he did but I remember he thought it would be funny to do a few tricks while balancing and scared us half to death.”

Paez and Espinoza fought to a 12-round draw in Phoenix, Arizona. Next up was former titlist Steve Cruz. The outlandish Mexican showed up on a unicycle for the weigh-in and climbed on the scale naked. He went on to best Cruz by unanimous decision.

His proudest moment came when he defended his title in the Mexican capital against one of his countrymen.

“I defended my title in Mexico City in the Bull Ring, it was against a fighter named Jose Mario Lopez,” he said. “Just the fact I filled the Bull Ring, 25,000, I’m very proud of that. I used to be able to fill up the venues.”

All the while his reputation as a showman grew, Paez wore outrageous ring attire including a wedding dress, a Superman outfit and a monk’s robes, as well as extravagant hairstyles.


After my victories I would always do the backflip,” he said of his extrovert behavior. “I wanted the fans to know I was a performer. I was there to give a show and I was from the circus.

“I wanted to be different from other fighters. Other fighters wore the same trunks almost all the time; I wanted to be different. I wanted to put on not only a good fight but a good show.”

Paez ratcheted up eight successful defenses, which including a decision over Troy Dorsey, edging Espinoza in their rematch to add the WBO title to his collection before making the bold move to vacate his titles and head up to 130 pounds to face Tony Lopez in Sacramento. Lopez won a unanimous decision.

Paez was again on the move, this time up to lightweight. He outpointed unbeaten Tracy Spann to earn a shot at Pernell Whitaker, in October 1991. Whitaker, a pre-fight 7-1 favorite, won a unanimous decision to retain his Ring Magazine, IBF, WBA and WBC belts.

He got back to winning ways, with five wins, and faced Rafael Ruelas, who stopped the popular Mexican in 10. Again Paez won a few fights and challenged Freddie Pendleton for the IBF 135-pound strap, dropping a unanimous decision.

In July of 1994, Paez met rising superstar Oscar De La Hoya, the 1992 Olympic gold medalist, who easily dispatched him in two rounds to win the vacant WBO lightweight laurels.

By this time, Paez was a shell of his former self. He continued to fight for several more years, losing to Genaro Hernandez (L TKO 8), Angel Manfredy (L TKO 8) and Jose Luis Castillo (L TKO 5) among others.

“I was criticized a lot for being a clown,” he said, “but I wasn’t just a clown. I was a good clown who also came to fight.”

Paez brought the curtain down on his career in the fall of 2003, walking away with a record of 79-14-5 (with 52 knockouts).

Paez, now 52, lives in Las Vegas with his wife. He has six children, four with his wife. Since retiring he has stayed busy with other activities and, although he is calmer than in his fighting days, he is still a character.

“I’m a stripper!” he cracked. “In retirement I became a Jehovah’s Witness, I pretty much do that almost every day. I go around knocking on people’s doors and predict the word of Jehovah. I liked that religion. That made me change as a person, so I devote my time to Jehovah.

“I enjoy my children a lot more than when I was fighting because I was always on the road training and now I’m able to see and spend a lot more time with them.

“In my personality I haven’t changed. I like to crack jokes. I still have the same sarcasm. In my vocabulary, I try not to cuss. I have calmed down from the extravagant life, of going out, buying houses, cars, women, thanks to my newfound religion.”

He graciously took time to speak to RingTV.com about the best he fought in 10 key categories.

(continues)

 

BEST JAB

PERNELL WHITAKER: He had a very fast jab. He kept you in the middle of the ring, where he could circle around and pop you with that jab all night. Obviously I would try and lure him into the corners to throw my punches but he was elusive and got out right away.

BEST DEFENSE

WHITAKER: He was a master of lateral movement; he moved everywhere. Very intelligent fighter. That’s why he was champion in four weight divisions.

FASTEST HANDS

CALVIN GROVE: There’s not really one person that was in front of the other; they were all basically the same. I was pretty fast. (Javier) Marquez, he was a four-time national amateur champion, Tracy Spann, Pernell Whitaker, Oscar De La Hoya, Calvin Grove. Grove was naturally gifted. African Americans are gifted at speed. He knew how to use the ring. The difference was I was hungry. I wanted to make money.

FASTEST FOOTWORK

GROVE: It’s between Calvin Grove, Pernell Whitaker and Javier Marquez from Mexicali. I would say Grove. He could hold his own against the best, very tough to outbox.


BEST CHIN

TROY DORSEY: I hit him flush several times throughout the whole fight and he didn’t go down. He knew boxing, karate and kickboxing and I think, because he practiced all those contact sports, it gave him the will and heart to take a lot and that is why he was a champion.

SMARTEST

WHITAKER: Pernell Whitaker for sure. He knew how to move well in the ring plus he was a southpaw, so it was very hard to find him.


STRONGEST

RAFAEL RUELAS: In the featherweight division, I didn’t feel anyone’s punches. At lightweight, physically the strongest was Rafael Ruelas. I felt like I could fight anybody and take on anybody’s physical condition but Ruelas is the one that stands out right now.


BEST PUNCHER

OSCAR DE LA HOYA: I felt Rafael Ruelas’ punches the whole night. The fight with Oscar De La Hoya didn’t go long enough, I just know I went down from that shot and I wasn’t able to continue, so, for a young kid that just came back from the Olympics, he punched solid.

BOXING SKILLS

WHITAKER: Definitely Pernell Whitaker. He didn’t hit very hard but he knew how to score and move and be defensive. Masterful in defensive skills, probably the best until (Floyd) Mayweather (Jr.).

BEST OVERALL

WHITAKER: Again Pernell Whitaker. Very intelligent with everything he does and he’s not a big guy. He knows how to move around the ring. He’s only 5-foot-5 and can take on any guy and still make them look ridiculous. From what I recall, nobody ever knocked him out. They knocked him down but not out.

The Ring wishes to thank Brandon “Trino” Ayala for his assistance with coordinating and translating this interview.

https://www.ringtv.com/545582-best-i-faced-jorge-paez/

 

A new boxing champion, Jorge Paez | EW.com
John Stravinsky
A former circus clown and acrobat, Jorge Paez is as adept at X-rated pelvic gyrations or show-off post-fight back flips as he is at using his myriad boxing skills to frustrate opponents. His hair, cut in a rat-tailed Mohawk, is highlighted by inscriptions that vary from fight to fight (the word ”Mexico,” the Batman logo), and the sequined skirt he has worn in the ring would put Phyllis Diller to shame.

If all the world loves a clown and if pro boxing is often the three-ring circus its critics say it is, then NBC Sports must be onto something. After all, Paez, the International Boxing Federation featherweight champion, drew 5.8 and 7.4 ratings (more than 18 million viewers total) in two recent fights. That means he was seen fighting by more American TV viewers over the past year than Mike Tyson, Sugar Ray Leonard, or Evander Holyfield. Jorge who? you ask.

All right, so the 23-year-old Paez may not yet be a household name, but it’s not for lack of trying — on his part or NBC’s. His April 7 bout against Louie Espinoza (4 to 6 p.m. on NBC’s Saturday Sports Showcase) will be his seventh title defense in a little over a year — a grueling schedule in this era of idle titleholders.

The NBC-Paez deal was sparked when Kevin Monaghan, NBC’s boxing coordinator, got a call last March. ”My brother was watching a fight on the USA Network,” he says, ”and he called to tell me about a fighter who looked like one of the Road Warriors gone berserk. When I saw for myself, I realized I had to get this guy. There are a lot of guys who can fight, but he’s like a lounge act that fights. He has a personality people remember.”

And for network boxing coverage, memorable is an extremely valuable commodity. Long gone are the days when a Muhammad Ali or a Sugar Ray Leonard appeared on free network TV. Most title fights from the middleweights up appear only on HBO, Showtime or in pay-per-view showings.

Boxing’s largely ignored supporting cast offers a host of talented but often colorless champs. In Paez, NBC got ratings razzle-dazzle at bargain rates: four weekend-afternoon fights for a reported $1.5 million (compared with $60 million James ”Buster” Douglas is expected to make for his next two fights).

”I knew if we didn’t sign him, we’d lose him,” Monaghan says. Jon Miller, NBC vice president of program planning and development, felt the same way, even after Paez, on meeting Miller, rejected a handshake, proffering instead an open palm. ”Where’s the money, homeboy?” he asked.

The fight that convinced NBC to make the deal was Paez’s title defense last August against former champion Steve Cruz. The bout drew the highest network boxing ratings of the year. ”We treated it like it was pro wrestling,” Monaghan says. ”All our promos touched only on Paez. We promoted the out- landishness of this guy.”

Unlike pro wrestling, the bout came off as solid and believable, with Paez (at 5’6”, 126 pounds) scoring a brawling 12-round decision. Afterward, he taunted the pro-Cruz crowd, leading some at NBC to peg Paez for that grand ole wrestling role of the guy you love to hate. ”If I were at home watching,” NBC ring announcer Marv Albert says, ”I might look at him from a negative point of view. But he gives me something to poke at; he’s off the wall.”

While a showboat fighter is hardly novel — Hector ”Macho” Camacho and Michael ”The Silk” Olajide are prime examples — ”Marmero” (The Tumbler) Paez could set new standards. ”Everything I do is because I enjoy it,” Paez says through manager Nacho Huizar (the fighter speaks only a little English). ”I put on a good show, and I’m never going to change my ways.”

Paez, born into a circus family in Mexico, learned to tumble, fly on the trapeze, juggle, and be a clown early on. He obeyed his grandmother’s request not to fight professionally until he turned 20, then immediately lit out on a blazing knockout trail en route to his 34-2-2 record (25 KOs).

”He has great balance from his training as an acrobat,” Dr. Ferdie Pacheco, NBC boxing analyst, says. ”This allows him to throw punches from unusual angles, which makes him very hard to fight. Also, he’s very strong and gritty. He doesn’t pussyfoot around, and he’s very confident of his punch.”

Pacheco spent part of his career working with Ali, the sport’s consummate showman, so he’s not bothered by Paez’s antics. ”Like Ali, he (Paez) has charisma,” Pacheco says. ”He has an arrogance that he’s going to win, and he does.”

 

The Scary Clown: Remembering Jorge Paez
jrok


Boxing is many things, and a playground for extreme personalities is one of them. While plenty of normal people climb into the profession, it also attracts more than its fair share of attention-seekers, fringe characters and loveable weirdos. Jorge Paez was all of the above.

Paez once wore a dress to a fight. This was in 1992, against Rafael Ruelas, in his adopted hometown of L.A. Imagine showing up for a bout in a black sequin gown, on your home turf. It sounds like the sort of nightmare you might have after snacking on the old pizza your fridge. But for Paez, it was just business as usual.

That's because - as the commentators unfailingly mentioned before, and often during, every fight - Paez was a professional circus clown. A native of Mexicali, Jorge spent a good part his youth working in his grandmother's show, learning how to do the sorts of tumbles, goony dancing and acrobatic backflips that he'd showcase before and after every victory. According to him he never fully left the circus, and would return to clowning for short stretches in between fights. It wasn't hard to imagine, either. He had a wide easy grin, and whenever he flashed it you got the sense the only thing he enjoyed more then hitting people was cracking them up.

But in the ring, at his best, Paez was a sly and vicious court jester, ripping out gut-busting bodywork in between his crouching, bobbing advances and jelly-legged taunts. El Maromero was a fairly limited and inconsistent slugger, but he also had a nerve-jangling ability to turn the tables and a Roman gladiator’s deference to the crowd. You could tell by looking that he loved being in the ring. And in between antics, he could occasionally churn out a sudden, sinister left hook. If he was a linesman for Ma Bell, he would’ve been the weird, unpredictably evil linesmen. And if he was a Notary Public, he’d be the weird, unpredictably evil Notary Public. Jorge Paez was basically the definition of a "scary clown."

On the comeback trail from a hard-fought loss to Sweet Pea Whitaker, Paez wanted to make more than a fashion statement that night in California. In a busy year, Ruelas was the first truly dangerous opponent he'd faced aside from a downsliding De la Rosa. The fight looked like it would be a barnburner from the first bell, with a volley of big exchanges that saw Paez floored by a thunderous hook. Gutsy as always, he rose – in a dress, mind you – to finish the round by throwing and catching a lot of leather.

Paez was roundly outfought, if not outclassed that night. Gabriel’s brother was a very focused and fit guy; if not a born killer then a born wounder-and-bleeder. The gap in preparedness was clear for the majority of the bout, with Ruelas often unloading at will on an increasingly available chin. But early in the fourth round, something interesting happened. Jorge pulled one of those ripping one-two combinations down from orbit and nearly mugged Rafael. In the blink of an eye, the smartass in the dress suddenly looked dressed to kill, vandalizing Ruelas in the corner with heavy lefts and rights. I had Paez under, and I thought I was going to feel smart.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. In the middle of his furious assault, Paez accidentally spit out his mouthpiece, providing Rafael a much needed breather. It was the turning point for both guys, and the remainder of the bout was mostly a matter of Ruelas' tenacious combinations gradually overwhelming the clown’s desparate antics. El Maromero was stopped by the referee in the 10th from a very ugly and academic barrage that would’ve popped the balloons of many decent fighters over the years. But he lost bravely, and took the loss well. Despite getting savagely beaten in front of a large crowd of people while wearing a dress, he had his moments. And, at the end of the day, I suppose getting beat up in a dress is preferable to getting beat up by the guy wearing the dress.

Paez would fight for another ten years, losing mostly to good and great fighters over that talent-rich period. He was a hard-slugging showboat, which in the upper tiers of the sport can be a recipe for disaster. But his confidence was outstanding compared to most "normal" people, the role of which is hard to overestimate in Boxing. I’d bet every dollar in the bank that he was un-trainable in some very fatal and very admirable way, and that this factor played just as large a part in his victories as it did in his defeats.

Thinking about him now, I guess it’s possible he was nuts. Jorge’s glory days came before self-promotion was just a Youtube video away, so it’s hard to explain some of the weirder stuff. But I like to think he was a throwback with an eccentric streak. The guy who runs off to join the circus seems to share some old, quixotic DNA with the guy who embarks on a career in professional boxing. As for all of the accessories: the cryptic slogans emblazoned on his trunks, the "Batman" paraphenalia, the crossdressing, the wild hairdos - in almost any other guy this stuff would have seemed like a paint job to market an otherwise boring pug. But Paez had a brave, fan-friendly style. He didn't really need that stuff, even though it's probably the reason he is so memorable. I've never seen him perform as a circus clown, but I think he probably must have been fun to watch there too. Center ring is center ring, after all. Win or lose he was fun to watch, and, like height, that's something you can't ever teach.

 

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The final 15 rounder

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Loved this part:

Paez, the International Boxing Federation featherweight champion, drew 5.8 and 7.4 ratings (more than 18 million viewers total) in two recent fights. That means he was seen fighting by more American TV viewers over the past year than Mike Tyson, Sugar Ray Leonard, or EvanderHolyfield. Jorge who? you ask.

 

Growing up the Lopez vs Paez fight was one I was super excited to see...perhaps not the greatest fight, but due to nostalgia is among my favorites.