Torres' legacy extends beyond the ropes
Though he excelled in both pursuits, Jose Chegui Torres wasn't merely a fighter or a journalist. Torres, who passed away Monday, leaves behind a legacy in boxing that stretches from Puerto Rico to New York -- and beyond.
Although it was a career-crossroads fight for both participants, it merited but a single sentence in what was then the nation's premier sports publication:
In its wrap-up of the previous week's highlights, the May 25, 1964 issue of Sports Illustrated somewhat tersely noted that "eighth-ranked middleweight Jose Torres of Brooklyn hammered out a 10-round unanimous decision over Wilbert (Skeeter) McClure of Toledo in Madison Square Garden," and then moved along to the latest from the world of bridge.
Forty-five years later, Dr. Wilbert McClure recalled Jose Chegui Torres, who died at 72 on Monday morning, as "one of the two toughest opponents I ever faced." (The other was an amateur foe, Sgt. Eddie Crook, who, along with McClure and Muhammad Ali, won an Olympic gold medal at the 1960 Games in Rome.)
The main event at Madison Square Garden that evening was historic for more than one reason. Not only were Torres and McClure both Olympic medalists, but each was a future boxing commissioner. Torres (who captured the silver medal in 1956 in Melbourne, where he lost in the final to Hungarian legend Laszlo Papp) chaired the New York State Athletic Commission from 1983 to 1985, while McClure headed up the Massachusetts Boxing Commission from 1993 to 1998.
A few years earlier, the two had even been stablemates when McClure served a brief apprenticeship with Torres' mentor, Cus D'Amato.
A year earlier, both fighters had been undefeated. But in 1963, McClure dropped back-to-back decisions to Luis Rodriguez, the former welterweight champion who had lost his title to Emile Griffith earlier in the year. For his part, Torres was stopped -- for the first and only time in his career -- by Cuban Florentino Fernandez. (Torres' record also included a 1959 draw with Benny Paret.)
"I knew from my time with D'Amato that Cus wouldn't even put one of his fighters in with another guy unless he figured he had at least an 80 percent chance of winning," recalled McClure, and as he so often was, Cus was right. What appeared on paper to be a relatively even match proved to be a one-sided fight.
Their respective careers dovetailed after that fight. McClure hung up his gloves for good in 1970 and returned to school. He eventually earned a doctor's degree in psychology, and practices in that field today.
Torres ripped off four more wins before 1964 was out, capped by a first-round knockout of former middleweight champ Carl "Bobo" Olson at the Garden, setting the stage for his challenge the following March to Willie Pastrano, the undisputed light heavyweight champion of the world.
Torres knocked Pastrano down in the sixth, and referee Johnny LoBianco stopped it after the ninth. There was an immediate and delirious outpouring of joy, both among the citizens of his adopted hometown and by Puerto Ricans everywhere.
There had been great Puerto Rican boxers before him -- Sixto Escobar and Pedro Montanez in the 1930s -- and another countryman, Carlos Ortiz, was the reigning lightweight champion. But Torres was the first to rule in an upper weight class. Fiercely proud of his heritage, Torres had been humiliated by his loss to Fernandez at Hiram Bithorn Stadium. The Pastrano win not only served as personal redemption, it struck a body blow in the name of Puerto Rican pride.
Torres was mobbed by celebrants in Spanish Harlem the next day. At 110th Street and Lexington Avenue, in the heart of El Barrio, he climbed a rickety fire escape to address the crowd.
"He was telling them how he'd won it 'for all of us,' and they really took him to their hearts," recalled journalist Pete Hamill. "As moving as it was, I was terrified. That fire escape looked like it might collapse at any moment."
Four months after winning the title, Torres returned to Puerto Rico for a nontitle bout against Tom McNeeley. Fighting as a heavyweight for the only time in his 45-bout career, Torres gave away 22 pounds to the former title challenger, and while he won a unanimous decision, it was an experience that would have lifelong repercussions.
"Jose won the fight, but was in the hospital for two weeks afterward, with damage to the pancreas," said Hamill. "That may have been the cause of the diabetes problems he had later in his life."
Torres wasn't able to fight again until the following May, but over the last eight months of 1966 he engaged in four title bouts.
In May, he outpointed Wayne Thornton at Shea Stadium. In August, he won a unanimous decision over Eddie Cotton in a Las Vegas bout that was selected Ring Magazine's Fight of the Year. In October, he fought in San Juan, where he knocked out Scotland's Chic Calderwood, the British Commonwealth champion, in five.
Then, nine days before Christmas, he returned to Madison Square Garden to face Dick Tiger, the former middleweight champion from Nigeria. Torres was never really in the fight, as Tiger won handily on all three scorecards. Torres fared better in their 1967 rematch, but he lost by the narrowest of split decisions (8-7 on two cards, 7-8 on the third).
He had two more fights, but his heart no longer was in it, as evidenced by his final performance, in which he was knocked down twice by substitute opponent Charlie "Devil" Green before Torres flattened Green in the second.
By then, Torres was more comfortable in the company of Hamill, Norman Mailer and Budd Schulberg, all of whom had nurtured his nascent writing career. He authored two books ("Sting Like A Bee," a biography of Muhammad Ali; and "Fire and Fear," in which he deconstructed D'Amato's final protégé, Michael Gerard Tyson) and became an exceptional journalist, writing for both Spanish- and English-language papers.
"When he worked for the [New York] Post, he was the first Latino to write a column in an English-language paper," recalled Hamill. "He was an enormously powerful voice because of that, and there wasn't anybody of importance in New York who wouldn't talk to him."
Torres was appointed to succeed Jack Prendeville as NYSAC chairman in 1983, becoming the first Latino ever to hold that job. He continued to cover the sport and worked as an analyst for ESPN Deportes, and if there was a big fight in New York or Las Vegas or Boston, you could assume Torres was going to be there.
Two years ago, beset by health issues, he decided to return to Puerto Rico, though he still occasionally returned, as he did last summer when his nephew Joel fought at Gotham Hall. He was home in Ponce when he died peacefully in the early hours of Monday morning.
Jose Torres will be laid to rest Friday in Ponce, where authorities have declared three days of mourning and ordered that flags be flown at half-staff. A New York memorial service is being planned for next month at Gleason's Gym.
Torres was a Puerto Rican national hero, but, said Hamill on Monday, "He also spent 50 years of his life here, so he was a New Yorker all right."
Like many of Torres' other friends, Hamill had spent most of the day in reflection since receiving the news.
"It was his laughter that I'll always see and hear," said Hamill, who paused a moment and added, "God. Now they're shooting at our regiment."
George Kimball, who writes for the Irish Times and Boxing Digest as well as ESPN.com, won the Nat Fleischer Award for Excellence in Boxing Journalism in 1985. He is the author of the widely acclaimed new book "Four Kings: Leonard, Hagler, Hearns, Duran and the Last Great Era of Boxing."
