BELLYFUL OF GOLD
SOMETIMES – and, I’m gonna be honest and transparent now – once in a blue moon, I can’t remember where I’ve parked. But it doesn’t happen too often. I just have to make sure I know where I’ve parked my car, so that’s a bit difficult for me.”
Those words linger, hanging at the end of the call, unwanted like damaged fruit. The struggles endured by retired fighters are often swept under the carpet; they are almost expected, these haunting tales from men who broke their hands, faces and hearts for our entertainment.
It’s been over a decade since fans of former WBA and IBF super-welterweight champion Fernando Vargas, 26-5 (22), frantically waved their Mexican flags and hoisted full-size, cardboard cut-outs of their champion above their heads, blocking the view of the frustrated ticket holders sat patiently behind them. His legendary, brutal contest with Felix Trinidad, his fight with Golden Boy Oscar De La Hoya, those later bouts with Shane Mosley and Ricardo Mayorga, and that remarkable run of title defences (including Raul Marquez, Ronald ‘Winky’ Wright and Ike Quartey) have cemented his place in boxing’s history.
But through it all, Vargas just wants to
