His name was Javier Ayala and he was from Los Angeles via Tijuana. He had once run ten rounds with the great Roberto Durán in 1973 in Los Angeles and also went the distance with Leroy Haley. But on this night at the Silver Slipper in Las Vegas, his main opponent at the event was Bruce Finch, whose claim to fame would be that after his third-round TKO loss to Sugar Ray Leonard in 1982 in Reno, Leonard would undergo surgery to repair a detached retina. .

Before the fight with Finch, Javier had lost six fights in a row, including ones against the very capable Jerry “Schoolboy” Cheatham and Dujuan Johnson, as well as the tough Lou Bizzarro. Arguably, it had become a gate that prospects must pass through before moving on to the next level.

I was visiting my brother at the time (he had been on assignment in nearby Phoenix and flew in to get some rest), but on this particular July night in 1980 he was alone. After several hours of Black Jack at Bally’s and dinner at Kathy’s Southern Cooking restaurant, I pursued my real interest for the night, which was seeing a young lightweight prospect from Youngstown, Ohio named Ray “Boom Boom” Manicini. He had won ten in a row and was on the undercard in an eight-round bout against one Leon Smith whom he tore apart in the first round with several unanswered body shots to Smith’s liver that could be heard throughout the room…. ….. I was in the hallway near ringside and they sounded like off bombs. I was very impressed and anything else on this particular boxing night would just be icing on the cake.

Chris Schwenke fought his first professional fight and won a four round UD over Bill Fallow. He would later go on a 14 game winning streak. There was an uneventful 6-round fight before the Finch-Ayala fight between Danny Sanders and Irishman Pat Coffey, which Danny won via TKO in the last round. At that point, there was a brief intermission, and I remember this kid, maybe 9 or 10 years old, who turned up and was standing right behind my seat. I asked him his name and he told me that he was the son of Javier Ayala. He was very shy and humble. We had a good exchange and I told him that I hope his father does well. As the fighters walked to the ring, I noticed Javier reach out to pat his son on the shoulder and smile and wink at her. The wrestlers were then introduced amid the usual fanfare and the crowd prepared for the main event.

Finch, from Milwaukee, had lost only three fights and those were against the very capable Tommy Hearns, Larry Bonds and Pete Ranzany. He had won 21 and it was said that he had a lot of punches in his shots. The much younger Finch appeared to be in excellent welterweight shape, while Ayala, at 37, looked a bit worn.

As I lit my Cuesto Rey………. luckily, there was no political correctness in 1980, particularly in a gambling casino… the wrestlers received their instructions rang gloves, the bell rang and the fight began. The first two rounds were mostly cat and mouse with both fighters feeling up and landing some decent punches. Finch threw some neat combinations and seemed to have taken control late in the second round. The third lap is when it happened. Both fighters were coming out of a clinch and as they got set, Ayala moved forward to launch a telegraphed right loop. Finch got there first unleashing a vicious short right hook that caught Ayala on the tip of his chin. The hit could be heard in the playing area.

Ayala hit the canvas like he’d been hit with a ten-gauge shotgun…and that’s when what started out as a nice evening of manly fun turned into something more. When he landed on his back, his body slammed in front of his head, which then sliced ​​into the canvas. He was left on the ground as his sole handler loomed over him and ringside officials and the referee quickly went to revive him. He was unconscious and remained unconscious for 15 to 20 minutes without even moving a limb. He was preparing a stretcher, the crowd was silenced and there was a genuine sense of concern. Everyone feared the worst. Finch, though elated with his one-hit victory, was visibly concerned. As all this was going on, I looked at his son standing in the back and I will never forget the look on his face or the tears in his eyes. I walked up to him, put my arm around him and said “don’t worry, your father will be fine”. He was shaking all over and it was all he could do to keep his composure.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Javier Ayala rose to scattered applause, but also palpable relief. He left the ring under his own power, albeit unsteadily, and seemed fine. As he made his way to the dressing room, he stopped and took his son’s hand in his and they both disappeared from sight as they entered the room. The word that best describes what I witnessed in that moment was pathos…my overwhelming emotion was sympathy and pity.

I never knew exactly what happened to Ayala, but I do know that this was his last fight. He would end up with a record of 21 wins, 24 losses, and 1 tie. Where he is today or where his son might be remain mysteries he would rather not solve. My connection to Javier Ayala has been deliberately left unresolved.

As for Bruce Finch, he would win eleven fights in a row before being stopped by Sugar Ray in 1982. He would then lose six of his next seven fights before retiring in 1985.

To this day, when I get sick from a fight or get into a heated discussion about boxing in general and need a reality check, I always remember that bad night in Las Vegas…one that would leave me with lasting memories. “In no other sport is the connection between the practitioner and the observer so intimate, so frequently painful, so unresolved.” -Joyce Carol Oates