Mando Ramos of Long Beach, California; the youngest man in boxing history to win the world lightweight championship. Photos courtesy of Mando Ramos Jr.
Armando Ramos Junior got a little misty-eyed when asked to describe the boxing skills of his superstar father.
“I think ‘prodigy’ is an understatement with that guy,” said Mando Jr.
In an era of rock stars, Mando was certainly that, rocking crowds of 8,000 each time he fought at the venerable Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles during the mid-’60s and early ’70s.
With knockout power in both hands and great boxing instincts honed in the ring since he was a young boy, Ramos was destined for greatness. He was the youngest fighter in the history of boxing to win a lightweight championship title.
“My father could do it all,” said Mando Jr. during a visit at his east Long Beach home. “He could out-box you, and he could slug with you and knock you out.”
For those reasons, along with his movie-star good looks, Mando Senior was adored by the hardcore boxing crowd at the Olympic, a cavernous boxing mecca built in 1924. Ramos fought monthly at the Olympic during the mid-’60s. Mega-stars such as Elizabeth Taylor and John Wayne could be seen sitting ringside, drinking in the throwback, ultra-macho Olympic Auditorium vibe.
Left: Mando Ramos about to get introduced in the Olympic Auditorium ring during one of his “off” nights in the late ’60s. Right: Vintage Mando.
Often, Mando would party with the rich, glamorous and famous after his fights, but might be seen later that evening at a backyard party in Long Beach, Wilmington or San Pedro. Ramos, who partied with the same intensity he brought to the ring, “might pass out on your couch,” said Mando Jr.
“When you are that gifted—and you see this with artists and musicians as well—sometimes you’re also troubled and self-destructive,” Mando Jr. said.
Mando Sr., the product of a broken home, was raised in Long Beach by his grandparents, but his father Raymundo was a huge influence. Raymundo, a World War II veteran, was an abusive alcoholic who demonstrated his tough love by setting up a boxing ring in the back yard and teaching his three sons to box.
By age five, Mando had begun his amateur boxing career.
At first, it was Mando’s oldest brother Manuel who was being groomed for boxing greatness. While Mando was slim and wiry, Manuel was built like a tank. Manuel’s pro boxing career began with great promise; 15 wins, all by knockout. Manuel’s career was permanently derailed, however, when he was convicted of a serious crime and ended up in San Quentin State Prison, in a cell right next to Charles Manson’s.
It was around this time that Mando’s boxing skills caught the attention of legendary boxing trainer Jackie McCoy. McCoy trained his fighters at the Seaside Gym in downtown Long Beach, on the edge of the Pike amusement park.
Mando Ramos Senior with Mando Junior, early ’70s.
Mando was the first of five world boxing champions McCoy would train during his 46-year career, and probably the most frustrating: Ramos’ natural gifts were such that he would often rely on them instead of putting in full pre-fight boxing camps. McCoy would sometimes have to track Mando down at the Golden Cue billiard parlor or at Old Mexico, the Ramos family restaurant in downtown Long Beach.
Mando’s propensity for hard partying did not reflect a lack of love for boxing, though.
“Dad always talked about boxing being an art form. He was a fan of boxing. He was a historian of it. He absolutely loved it. Everything that was taught to me by my dad was through a boxing analogy,” said Mando Jr.
McCoy and Mando persevered, and soon the savvy boxing promoters at the Olympic saw in Ramos the potential for a latter-day Art Aragon. Aragon, also a lightweight, fought at the Olympic in the ’40s and was known as the “Golden Boy.” The humble Mando refused to adopt the nickname but certainly stepped into the role, electrifying the Olympic 27 times before, during and after his lightweight championship run.
Considering how difficult it is to maintain championship form in a sport where one mistake means you pay with your consciousness, Mando performed amazingly during his championship years, 1969 through the summer of ’72. Training very lightly even for the most dangerous opponents, Mando lost and gained back the lightweight championship belt twice, all while delving deep into alcohol, weed and worse.
Eventually, a bad beating at the hands of Chango Carmona at the L.A. Coliseum on September 15, 1972 would put Mando’s career into a steep decline.
Eleven months later, Mando would return to the Olympic one last time, to fight the dangerous Tury Pineda. This reporter has a personal recollection of that evening:
“Dad took me to the Olympic that night. It was like stepping into a time machine. All the original ’30s signage inside the hallways and snack bars was still there. Then we walked into the arena, where the cigarette smoke created a triangle of light above the ring. Every time a woman would get up to walk down an aisle, cat-calls and wolf-whistles rained down from every corner of the room.
“Mando fought gamely for a few rounds. When Pineda knocked him down in the 5th, the crowd went wild.
“After the fight, dad and I ran through the hall to where Mando would cross on his way to the dressing room. We got there right as Mando walked up. His face was a bit lumpy like Robert De Niro’s was in the film Raging Bull. He looked over at where we were, gave a little smile and just shrugged.”
Mando Junior speculated that the crowd had grown impatient with his dad, the most naturally gifted boxer to come along in years but also someone who had trouble with the discipline of the game.
By 1975, Mando Ramos’ boxing career was over.
Mando then went through some very tough years but went on to a 25-year career as a longshoreman (Mando Jr. is also a longshoreman, and has worked on the docks for 22 years).
Mando Ramos Junior: Proud son, proud father.
In 1981, Mando Sr. entered rehab through a program offered by the International Longshore and Warehouse Union and became sober for good.
In ’83 he started B.A.A.D.—Boxers Against Alcohol and Drugs.
“B.A.A.D. was, I believe, the direct result of my dad keeping an eye on me during my junior high and high school years,” said Mando Jr.
It was at the suggestion of a Marshall Junior High counselor that Mando would begin giving talks in schools in the greater harbor area. At the Teen Center in Wilmington, he had a ring installed, held pro boxing exhibitions and even got rival gang members from the east and west sides of Long Beach to box each other.
“You’ll get a healthy respect for each other after a couple of rounds,” Mando would tell them.
“Dad loved the kids,” said Mando Jr. “He loved to encourage them to stay away from alcohol and drugs.”
In his Long Beach home, Mando Jr. maintains a small shrine in honor of his dad, who passed away in 2008.
He is a proud husband and a father of four who’s currently enjoying the college softball career of his daughter Angelique. She’s the starting shortstop at the University of Hawaii and was voted Freshman Player of the Year in the the Big West Conference.
“My Dad wasn’t a scholar-athlete but he was very street-wise,” said Mando Jr. “He’d say, ‘Keep your head on a swivel, keep your chin down and your ass off the canvas.’ That, to me, says it all about life. Keep going. You’re going to get hit hard in life.”