‘I had many friends. Pincho, my manager … Jack Kid Berg. He is a good friend. Every year Jack Kid Berg comes on the boat from Miami just to see me …’
Then an extraordinary thing happened. Without warning, Kid Chocolate began to clutch his stomach and howl like a small boy.
‘I’m hungry!’ he shrieked. ‘I need my lunch!’
His pleas brought the woman running in from next door, and also a gaunt man in middle age who said he was Kid Chocolate’s son.
‘I’m so hungry I could die!’ cried Kid Chocolate, convulsing with sobs.
But his son, if such he was, seemed more interested in saving some rum for himself, and the woman, after extracting two cigarettes from Kid Chocolate’s shirt pocket, left with an assurance that she would fetch some food.
‘You like the house?’ said the son, grinning. ‘Now he lives here alone, but it used to be a fine house. There was a gymnasium on the first floor, and a ring in the yard.’
As Kid Chocolate sat slumped in his chair, a pool of saliva forming on the cover of Kid Berg’s biography and a huddle of cigarette butts collecting in the folds of his shirt, the son led the way to other rooms: to Kid Chocolate’s bedroom with its urine-stained mattress, half covered by a dirty sheet, and a pile of human faeces on the floor; to the kitchen, where an old fridge stood open and empty, by a table strewn with bones and rusting tins of sardines being picked over by cockroaches; to further rooms, shrouded in cobwebs, which had not been used, perhaps even entered, for years.
From one such room the son emerged, beaming proudly, with a brown bundle under his arm. ‘Feel it,’ he said. ‘Pure silk.’ He unravelled it gingerly, as if in the presence of a religious artefact, and laid it on the floor. It could have been a moth-eaten old dressing-gown, but of course it wasn’t: etched in white letters, transported without blemish, it seemed, across the years, were the words CHOCOLATE KID.
More shrieks came from the front of the house, but by the time we reached him Kid Chocolate had been sedated with more rum and now sat with his head flopped forward, beside the empty bottle and beneath the photographs of himself and Jack Kid Berg, watched by the woman from next door and two youths drawn in from the street by the commotion.
Through this small gathering marched the son, who, gathering Kid Chocolate’s passive body in one arm, began to squeeze it into the old boxing robe with the other. And everyone else in the room suddenly felt the need to avert their eyes, for the impression was that of someone dressing a corpse.
Now, thinking back to that encounter, I don’t believe Kid Chocolate could have been living like that for very long. I don’t think it would have been humanly possible. He had finally weakened. It was the last waltz. Indeed, some six weeks later, he was dead. He is buried in Havana’s ‘cemetery for significant Cubans’ – somewhat rich, given how insignificant he was deemed during his post-retirement lifetime. Having said that, maybe he was given help, but just drank it away, and there was no more to give.
There is indeed something mournful about Cuba’s obsession with boxing – along with baseball and chess, national pastimes that seem somehow to be disguised expressions of defiance against the straightjacket of dictatorship.
At least Kid Chocolate lived till the age of 78. Kid Charol and Black Bill lived only until 28 and 27 respectively. Kid Charol died of tuberculosis, prompting his manager to kill himself a few months later. A year before Black Bill’s death, Chocolate fought a benefit bout for him at St Nick’s arena. The New York Times reported that it was ‘for Black Bill, who is now sightless’. Syphilis again. Black Bill had become alcoholic, and took his life by his own hand in a New York tenement. The Sweet Science online article 2 May 2005 Jonathan Rendall, ‘Kid Chocolate Went the Distance’
[8.7] GABRIEL FLASH ELORDE 118-89(33)-27-2-0 [Lightweight & Super-Lightweight & Featherweight & Bantamweight]: IBHOF online - Bleacher Report online -
Gabriel ‘Flash’ Edlorde is one of the greatest fighters ever to come out of the Asia-Pacific region. Every year from 1952 to ’67 he was involved in a national, regional or world title bout. Elorde, who turned pro in 1951 at age 16, had his fights in his hometown of Cebu, Philippines, winning 10 and suffered 1 KO loss.
He branched out the following year and continued his success, eventually winning the national bantamweight title in Manila then, travelling to Tokyo, where he won the Oriental bantamweight crown via 12-round decision from Hiroshi Horiguchi. In 1953 he lost a bid for the national featherweight crown dropping a 12-round decision to Larry Bataan in Manila and later dropped a 12-round verdict to Japanese junior-lightweight champ Masashi Akiyama in Tokyo.
His quest for success at higher weights finally bore fruit in 1954. After dropping another 12-round nod, this time to Shigeji Kaneko for the Oriental 126-pound belt, he beat Tommy Romulo in Manila to win the Philippines junior lightweight crown. Despite losing the national title in 1955, he surprised everyone when he outpointed reigning featherweight king Sandy Saddler over 10 rounds in a non-title fight in Manila.
With his newly won status as a world-ranked fighter Elorde traveled to San Francisco in January 1956 for a rematch against Saddler, this time with the title on the line. The challenger fought brilliantly, but a cut over his eye forced the bout to be stopped in the 13th round, with Elorde ahead on the judges’ cards. It was also Saddler’s last title defense.
Although Elorde didn’t get another title shot for the rest of the decade, he remained a ranked contender and eventually won national and regional titles as a lightweight. In March 1960 he won the world junior-lightweight title with a seventh-round stoppage of Harold Gomes in Quezon City in the Philippines.
Over the next eight years he had the most prolific reign at the weight. He had 10 successful defenses and twice punched Carloz Ortiz to the 14th round in a bid to win the lightweight belt from the future Hall-of-Famer.
Elorde’s fall began in June 1966 when he lost the Oriental lightweight title to Yoshiaki Numata via 12-round verdict. A year later Numata relieved Elorde of the world 130-pound crown with a 15-round points verdict.
Elorde fought and lost his next right. He was inactive for a year and a half before resuming his career, but retired for good after winning just 6 of 10. International Boxing Hall of Fame online article
Gabriel ‘Flash’ Elorde may well be the greatest Filipino fighter of his time. Turning pro at 16, he first fought at local venues in Cebu. Well known for a swift left hand which connects consistently.
Over a span of 15 years Elorde was involved in 44 title fights, 15 world title bouts.
He battled Teruo Kosaka of Japan five times for the Oriental lightweight crown.
In July 20,1955 Elorde defeated World Featherweight champion Sandy Saddler in a non-title bout. During a rematch at the Cow Palace, Saddler via TKO in the 13th. The fight was stopped after Elorde sustained a deep cut above his eye. The judges scorecard showed Elorde ahead in points. This infuriated the Filipinos in attendance.
On March 16, 1960 in front of 30,000 fans in Manila Elorde scored a knockout victory over World Junior lightweight Champ Harold Gomes of the United States. Five months later Gomes’ again lost via a first round Elorde knockout.
Elorde held the lightweight title for seven years, the longevity a milestone at that time.
The WBC during its 20th year celebration honored Elorde by naming him as one of the best junior lightweights in the history of the WBC.
Elorde received his greatest accolade in 1993 enshrined in the Boxing Hall of Fame with co-inductee Wilfredo Benitez. It goes to show, that with fierce determination and heart someone of slight physical stature can one day be champion of the world. Bleacher Report article Jovy Perez 8th December 2008, ‘Remembering Flash Elorde’