Tribute to Champion Mando Ramos
Thursday, July 24th, 2008
By Michele Chong
LOS ANGELES — An upbeat celebration of Armando “Mando” Ramos’ life was fitting for the two-time champ who had won an early battle with alcohol and drugs, living the rest of his life dedicated to giving back and helping others. Ramos died on July 6 at the age of 59.
Managed by trainer Jackie McCoy, Ramos (37-11-1) was the youngest-ever lightweight champion at 135 pounds. He had turned pro at the age of 17, having forged his birth certificate. He retired at the age of 26, after well-documented substance abuse problems derailed his once-promising boxing career. After his ring career ended, Ramos worked as a longshoreman and lived in San Pedro with his wife of 32 years, Sylvia and is also survived by a son, Mando Jr. and four grandchildren.
On July 18, a memorial celebration was held at the Longshoremen’s I.L.W.U. Memorial Hall in Wilmington. The evening featured film clips and displays of photos, boxing gloves, robes, belts, memorabilia and other highlights from Ramos’ career. On stage, there was a constant stream of personal anecdotes as the huge room filled to capacity and fellow fighters, friends, and family paid tribute during the four-hour celebration.
Many fighters, including Carlos Palomino, Bobby Chacon, Mando Muniz, Paul Gonzales, Ruben Castillo, Frankie Duarte, Andy “Kid” Heilman, Joey Orbillo were all there to say goodbye to Ramos. His former stablemate and friendly rival Raul Rojas (now in a wheechair) even came out to pay his respects to his past opponent. On December 10, 1970, Rojas fought his very last fight against Ramos. Ramos won the bout by a KO in the sixth round.
Through the ‘Ten Count’ and the tears, there was also plenty of laughter and shared memories. Considering that the large crowd had braved the notorious Friday night traffic on L.A. freeways is a testament to the loyal and lasting friendships Ramos had built through the years. After their careers are long over, ex-fighters form a fraternity, a brotherhood; it’s a bond created by both the troubles and the triumphs that fighters invariably live through. It is not uncommon for former foes to become respected friends outside of the ring, thus cementing a lifelong connection through boxing.
Ironically, this year had been a year full of accolades and honors for Ramos. In April, he and his dad, Ray were honorees at the Golden State Boxers’ Association first-ever “Don Fraser Lifetime Achievement Awards” for fathers and sons involved in boxing. Ramos had been inducted into the California Boxing Hall of Fame on June 21 and was also an inaugural WBC Hall of Fame inductee at the June 27 Legends of Boxing ceremony for their new museum in San Bernardino.
Ramos had donated a red boxing robe and shoes from his second title fight for a display that is showcased in the WBC museum. Vinnie Johnson, museum Co-chairman, recalls, “Mando was one of the first ones to arrive and the last to leave. He didn’t want to get off the stage; he was really enjoying the moment. I’ll never forget it.”
Fighter Paul Banke was inducted with Ramos in both of the June events and stated, “This is so sad about Mando. We’re all brothers in the boxing world.”
Boxing trainer and sculptor Steve Harpst had known Ramos for over a decade and said, “It was a privilege to know Mando. His sense of humor was the best and I’ll miss all of his joking around.”
Ramos had received one of Harpst’s bronze statues during the WBC awards banquet. Harpst said it’s a bittersweet time for the boxing community, since Ramos died just nine days after the banquet.
Sylvia Ramos said, “Mando was so proud and honored to receive the bronze statue. This and his Ring magazine boxing belt were two of the things he was most proud of.”
Sylvia, whose nickname is “Chiquita,” is blonde and petite and was a stark contrast to her husband’s dark, burly physique. The couple were a mainstay at various Los Angeles boxing matches, awards banquets, and fundraising events.
Sylvia spoke of her husband’s history of ailments, including diabetes, heart and back problems, saying, “He had a spinal cord stimulator, a pacemaker and a bunch of other things. I called him “The Bionic Man,” she said with a bit of a laugh. “He always set off the alarms while going through airport security, ” she remembered. His physical ailments did not deter the two from traveling, often going to Mexico and Las Vegas for short trips.
They had also been looking forward to a month-long vacation in Spain, Italy, and Greece that was to begin next month. The two had been planning this vacation for a while. But after Ramos’ passing, Sylvia chose to cancel the trip, rather than go without her husband. “It just wouldn’t have been the same without Mando,” she said.
Since Ramos’ death, fellow champions, friends, and associates have expressed their sadness at losing one of their compadres, while remembering a guy who just loved to have fun.
Having known both Mando and Sylvia Ramos myself for over a decade, I have my own memories of Ramos’ spirited and feisty sense of humor. While attending many of the Golden State Boxers’ Association meetings and parties at the Old Spaghetti Factory in Hollywood, I witnessed Ramos’ fun-loving, boisterous personality many times. He got a big kick out of joking around during somebody’s speech and Ramos would ‘heckle’ them and crack a joke or two. I would always find myself laughing out loud, and this only encouraged Ramos’ good-natured heckling. Sylvia would whisper to Mando to keep quiet and she said, “I would tell Mando, ‘It’s not always about you,’ but he would continue joking and getting attention.” After Sylvia’s light admonishments, Ramos would indeed continue shouting out jokes, and I would continue to laugh every single time. Ramos would look at me and giggle (looking like a schoolboy caught doing something naughty) and then would go back to the wisecracking.
Many in the crowd also recalled seeing Ramos fight at the famed Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, where Ramos fought over 25 times from 1965-1968.
Mando Muniz, was still an amateur boxer when Ramos turned pro, and the two Southern California fighters became good friends through the years. Both were inductees at the WBC Hall of Fame event and Muniz said, “I was honored to be one of the first WBC inductees along with Mando. Unfortunately, he finished his boxing career so early. He had an easy attitude, a really good heart, a great sense of humor. He would call me “Cara de Lastima’ and “Cara de mil Chingasos”
World Boxing Hall of Fame President and WBC Induction Chairman Adolfo Perez first met Ramos in the late ’60s said, “I saw him fight at the Olympic and the L.A. Sports Arena.” Regarding the WBC Hall of Fame award recently bestowed upon Ramos, Perez said, “He was one of the local champs who really deserved to be inducted. Mando was one of the first ones we nominated for the award. He was right next to me on stage and he was so happy.” Ramos had also been inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1998.
Don Fraser, President of the California Boxing Hall of Fame, said that during this year’s induction ceremony, “Mando seemed in good spirits.” Fraser was the Public Relations Director for the Olympic Auditorium from 1959-1967 and remembered, “I saw Mando fight in Spain and saw him at his best during his Olympic Auditorium days. He had such an ability. But with his alcohol and drug problems, he didn’t train the way he supposed to…and yet, he was still a champ.”
After years of drug abuse, Ramos got sober, and founded a non-profit youth organization called B.A.A.D. (Boxing Against Alcohol and Drugs). He proudly wore a large, gold pendant that said “Mr.B.A.A.D.” and he became known for contributing to others in need.
Gwen Adair, female boxing referee and judge agreed, “When I first started as a referee, I met Mando at the Olympic Auditorium. He was a star. He got off track, but then he got his life together to help and support young people. Mando turned it around and was always trying to help others.”
Ramos got inspired in various ways on how to help the less fortunate. He was patiently growing his curly hair out and sometimes wore it in a ponytail, which got a lot of ribbing from other ‘macho’ fighters. But he was letting it grow long for a good cause. Sylvia explains, “Mando was going to donate his ponytail to an organization that makes wigs for kids with cancer. His ponytail was eight inches long. It needed to be 12 inches in length before he could donate it, so that’s why he was still growing his hair out.”
In the end, Ramos had made a decision to give back in an ultimate way. Years ago, he had arranged for his body to be donated to UCLA’s organ donor program. Sylvia confirmed that her husband’s body was donated to the program, as this was Mando’s final request.
It seemed the fallen champion had truly learned from his past mistakes and lived his life doing what he knew was important–helping others, sharing good times with friends and family, enjoying his retirement with his beloved wife, Sylvia, and making fans smile with his ever-present sense of humor and laughter.
And his family made sure he had the very last word. On the back of the memorial program they handed out was a quote from the champ:
“Keep your chin down and your ass off the canvas!” Mando Ramos