His name was Javier Ayala and he was from Los Angeles via Tijuana. He had once run ten rounds with the great Roberto Duran 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 in 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 retinal detachment. .
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 door through which prospects must pass before moving on to the next level.
I was visiting my brother at the time (I had been on assignment in nearby Phoenix and flew in to get some rest), but on this particular night in July 1980 I was alone. After several hours of Black Jack at Bally’s and a 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 fight against a certain Leon Smith whom he wrecked 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 bombs going off. He was very impressed and anything else on this particular night of boxing would just be icing on the cake.
Chris Schwenke fought his first pro fight and won a four-round UD over Bill Fallow. He would later go on a 14-fight win streak. There was an uneventful 6 round fight before the Finch-Ayala fight between Danny Sanders and Ireland’s Pat Coffey, which Danny won via last round TKO. At that point, there was a short intermission and I remember this kid about 9 or 10 years old who showed up and was standing right behind my seat. I asked 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 I hoped his father did well. As the fighters walked towards the ring, I noticed that Javier came over to pat his son on the shoulder and smiled and winked at him. The fighters were then introduced amidst the usual fanfare and the crowd prepared for the main event.
Milwaukee’s Finch 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 shots in his shots. The much younger Finch looked to be in excellent welterweight form, while Ayala, at 37, looked a bit worn.
As I lit my Cuesto Rey……….thankfully, there was no political correctness in 1980, particularly in a gambling casino…the wrestlers received their instructions touched gloves, the bell rang and the fight began. The first two rounds were mostly cat and mouse with both fighters feeling their way and landing some decent shots. Finch threw some neat combinations and seemed to have taken control late in the second round. On the third lap is when it happened. Both fighters were coming out of a clinch and as they positioned themselves, Ayala moved forward to launch a telegraphed right loop. Finch got there first unleashing a vicious short right hook that caught Ayala on the point of her chin. The bang could be heard in the playing area.
Ayala hit the canvas like he’d been hit with a 10-gauge shotgun…and that’s when what started out as an enjoyable evening of manly fun turned into something more. As he landed on his back, his body struck in front of his head, which then sliced into the mat. He lay 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 between 15 and 20 minutes without even moving a limb. He was preparing a stretcher, the crowd was hushed and there was a genuine sense of concern. They all feared the worst. Finch, while elated at his one-hit victory, was visibly concerned. While all of 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 over 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 both of his and they both disappeared from sight as they entered the room. The word that best describes what I witnessed at that moment was pathos… my overwhelming emotion was one of sympathy and pity.
I never found out exactly what happened to Ayala, but I do know that that was his last fight. He would finish with a record of 21 wins, 24 losses, and 1 draw. Where he is today or where his son might be remain mysteries he would rather not solve. My connection with 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 go on to lose six of his next seven fights before retiring in 1985.
To this day, when I get dizzy 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 Vegas… one that would leave me with indelible memories. “In no other sport is the connection between practitioner and observer so intimate, so often painful, so unresolved.” -Joyce Carol Oates