La pelea fantasma (SPA-ENG)

The ghost fight

I remember the story perfectly despite the number of years that have passed.

We were passing the first days of autumn, however, the last attacks of the summer heat that refused to withdraw, giving the last battle before the passage of time temporarily retired it, until the following year, remained in the environment.

I was very young then, barely 21 years old, and in love. It is not a minor detail since it has an important interference in the story I will tell. You can imagine yourself at that age and your hormones exploding like the azaleas that surround the most beautiful golf course in the world: Augusta National in the first days of April, just before the start of the first golf major of the year.

I had arranged to go see a fight with my father at Luna Park, the indoor stadium preferred by boxing for the organization of big fights. At that time, Argentine boxing was going through the best moment in its history, Carlos Monzón, Nicolino Locche, and Natalio Oscar "Ringo" Bonavena earned everyone's admiration, and my father, who was an enthusiast of that sport, went quite regularly to the stadium located between Corrientes and Bouchard avenues. That day he had invited me to go with him, he had even bought the tickets in advance. Despite the fact that I preferred to spend Saturday with my girlfriend, I could not refuse, although we agreed that each one would go his own way and we would meet at the entrance door to the intermediate stalls, a privileged place to observe this spectacle.

The truth is that I arrived late, cuddling, it's getting late, I'm only going 5 more minutes, what can we do tomorrow, how nice was the walk through the Japanese garden, etc... etc. I missed the most prudent hour to arrive on time and I had to run to the bus stop, which of course took 10 eternal minutes to arrive. Each traffic light, each stop for people to get off and on, each stop at an intersection, and the important traffic on Saturday night were daggers that pierced my guilt, the minutes passed faster than ever and I already imagined my father's face waiting for me.

He happened what had to happen, I arrived 30 minutes after the scheduled time that I had already negotiated to be the closest to the scheduled start of the fight, to have more time with my girlfriend, it is understood.

At the entrance to the stalls, there was no one, it was so late that not even the entrance controls were there, so I sent myself to run up the steps two by two, on the way I saw people coming down, a bad sign.

I got to the indicated seat and my father was standing talking to several strangers, commenting on the result of the fight. ! what a pineapple Ringo got him!! he put him to sleep in one fell swoop!! an awesome uppercut!

My father was a little angry and frustrated, but also happy to have witnessed Bonavena's great performance.

Then he told me that when his opponent, an African-American American, took off his robe, the whole stadium fell silent, he was a head taller to our local credit, an extraordinary physique, when they approached to receive the referee's instructions the significant difference became more apparent and everyone feared the worst. Something that did not happen because our remembered "Ringo" Bonavena got under him and began to hit him with all his power in the soft zone as the part of the body below the shoulders and between the arms is known in boxing jargon, mainly the liver and kidneys. He suddenly raises the first of his left arm, the most powerful of the Argentine who was left-handed, and in a perfect uppercut blow, hits his opponent's full jaw that falls like a bag of potatoes. They told him the 10 seconds of rigor that could have been 50, a long time it took for the rival to recover from that tremendous blow.

So far so good, my story conforms to what I remember, but you will say, why is he talking about a ghost fight? Well, I'm going to say it, I looked for the background of that fight by all possible means, Bonavena's story, Wikipedia, the archives of El Gráfico magazine, the oldest and most prestigious sports magazine in the country. I wanted to know more details, the name of the rival that I swore had been Zora Folley, however, I couldn't find her. If you fought Folley at Luna Park, but the dates don't match, I also fight other African-Americans, but none in the range of dates I can remember or as quickly cut.

It's a mystery to me, it wasn't a dream, I assure you. I boast of having a good memory and I don't think the memories have played a trick on me, for now, it's a ghost fight, I'll keep investigating.

Unfortunately, I can't consult with my father because he passed away years ago and my mother never liked boxing so she has no idea about that sport, although she knows a lot about soccer.

Bonavena was assassinated a couple of years later in the United States, but that's another story.