ZINACANTEPEC, Mexico -- He was once considered the world's
greatest boxer, an angry and punishing fighter who intimidated
opponents outside the ring and beat them badly inside it.
Today, Julio Cesar Chavez is a soft-spoken, middle-aged man who
grumbles about cold weather and lies awake at night worrying about
the prizefighting career of his 18-year-old son.
Chavez will square off against Frankie Randall in Mexico City on
Saturday at the 45,000-seat Plaza Mexico in a bout dubbed
"Goodbye, Mexico ... Thanks.''
He has been talking about retirement since 2000 and has had a
slew of "final'' fights. But Chavez insists he's hanging up his
gloves for good this time.
"I'm not coming back,'' he said during an interview in the
mountain town of Zinacantepec, where he trained for the Randall
fight. "The fans wanted me to fight in the United States after
this. They wanted me to fight one last time for all the Hispanics
there. But no, sincerely the answer is 'no.' ''
Wearing a knitted cap and sweat suit, Chavez looked older than
his 41 years. His compact frame is still menacingly muscular, his
chin still chiseled. But deep creases and wrinkles now cut deeply
into a face and forehead that have absorbed decades of blows. The
skin around his biceps has begun to sag slightly.
"I think 113 fights are really enough,'' he said.
Chavez, 105-5-2 with 85 knockouts, began his career by going an
astounding 90 fights without a loss, capturing WBC titles in three
It was Randall who knocked Chavez down for the first time during
an upset victory by decision in Las Vegas on Jan. 29, 1994. Chavez,
who has never been knocked out by an opponent, recovered to beat
Randall in a rematch four months later.
Chavez said the first Randall fight served as a wake-up call,
helping him to hone ring habits that had become sloppy. The
farewell fight is also called "The Final Revenge.''
"It's the fight of my life, and I wanted it to be against
Randall,'' Chavez said.
Born in Birmingham, Alabama, Randall said beating Chavez was the
highlight of his career.
"That was my best fight,'' the 42-year-old fighter known as
"The Surgeon'' told reporters in Mexico City. "Knocking him down,
that really meant a lot to me.''
Chavez, who was once represented by Don King, made at least $11
million during his 21-year professional career. But exorbitant
spending, legal battles with his estranged wife and questionable
accounting practices have often left him strapped for cash.
In June 1998, he was arrested in his hometown of Culiacan for
tax evasion and had to fork over more than $1 million in fight
purses to cover debts to the Mexican government.
Financial trouble is a major reason he has kept returning to the
ring in recent years -- even when many questioned his worthiness.
Chavez says this month's fight is not about money, however.
As his career declined, Chavez fell out of the world sports
spotlight. But he remains a hero in his homeland, on par with
countrymen Hugo Sanchez, who broke goal-scoring records with soccer
powerhouse Real Madrid, and ex-Los Angeles Dodgers hurler Fernando
"He is a fighter who everyone, including other boxers, thought
was the best, invincible,'' said Jose Sulaiman, president of the
World Boxing Council, the sport's governing body, based in Mexico
City. "The boxers knew he was unbeatable, and they never spoke
badly of him. They didn't want to make him mad and give him another
Sulaiman said Chavez's 37 fights with the world championship on
the line are the most by any fighter in history.
"There are a lot of boxers who don't reach 37 fights in their
lives,'' he said.
Chavez drew the largest crowd in boxing history when 130,000
fans packed Mexico City's Azteca Stadium to watch him finish off
Greg Haugen in the fifth round on Feb. 20, 1993.
Saturday's fight will be aired on satellite television, but
later carried on the country's largest network. Organizers also
plan to broadcast it live on screens set up in the capital's
historic city center, allowing those who can't get tickets to catch
a final glimpse of the fighter known as "JC,'' "The Emperor'' or
"The Lion of Culiacan.''
To reacquaint himself with Mexico City's high altitude, Chavez
trained in Zinacantepec, more than 12,800 feet above sea level.
His son of the same name, who will fight on the undercard,
trained with him. Chavez said watching his son's career evolve will
fill the void left by the end of his boxing days.
"For me it's very difficult to watch my boys fight,'' he said.
"I have to support them, but it's hard.''
Chavez is less articulate than he once was, perhaps because of
all those years in the ring. He often dodges questions by cracking
jokes or starts thoughts that trail off.
"Perhaps there will be some tears, but I don't know,'' Chavez
said. "I'm ready to go there and give all of the little I have
left. I think, the night of the fight, that will be quite a lot.''