Steeped in boxing history – The Sacramento Memorial Auditorium

It didn’t take me long to start roaming the corridors.

I’m always on the lookout for boxing ghosts, and places like the Sacramento Memorial Auditorium have plenty.

Grainy walls and stairs breathe with age, memory, and history. The stairs even creaked as I made my way up. I took that as a good sign. Inside, the ring sits in the center of the bowl-shaped arena. Later, in my seat at ringside, I scanned the seats above me several times.

It reminded me so much of the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, CA.

I first attended fights at the Olympic 54 years ago. Pictures from fights, some famous and some not, filled the lobby. The place hummed with excitement. From the 1930s until the sale of the Arena roughly 60 years later, Hollywood filmed movies at the Olympic. Rocky, Raging Bull, and The Million Dollar Baby were shot there.

But it was the fights that were truly memorable.

The Memorial Auditorium opened in 1927, the same year the Bambino himself, Babe Ruth, smashed 60 home runs.

In 1932, legendary heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey refereed a bantamweight title fight there. A year later, all-time great fighter Hammerin’ Henry Armstrong made the first of a half dozen appearances, stopping local fighter Johnny Grannone in six rounds.

Armstrong sported an unimpressive record of 12 wins and 4 losses, and 4 draws, but he was learning and improving. He fought 16 times in 1933 and 1934. After going 27-0  (26 KOs) in 1937, Armstrong captured the featherweight title.

Less than a year later, he picked up the welterweight and lightweight world titles.

In the 1970s, Pete Ranzany was the house fighter at the Memorial Auditorium. He debuted there in 1973, and for 10 years headlined numerous cards. A few years later, Tony Lopez lit things up at the Arena. In 1988, Lopez picked up the IBF Super Featherweight title with an exciting win over Rocky Lockridge. Loreto Garza was another future champion who fought several times at the Arena.

Sitting in my seat by the ring last Saturday night, I gazed at the right side of the ring, remembering the insanity. That was where one of the most dramatic knockdowns happened. I can imagine the roar of the sold-out crowd that day was deafening.

Former champion Bobby Chacon and defending titleholder Rafael Limón would be fighting for the fourth time. Their rivalry was intense. Limón considered Chacon a pretty-boy fighter, while Limón’s cockiness annoyed Chacon.

They first met in Mexico in 1975. Chacon was a former champion. Limón was rising in the rankings. Limón edged Chacon over 10 competitive rounds. They met again four years later. This time, Chacon had the edge, but a headbutt halted the fight.

The fighters fought for a third time in 1980. They knew each other well. Chacon was knocked down, sustained a broken nose, and was leaking blood from cuts around both eyes. He rallied late to get the decision. Limon was beside himself.

Chacon fought four times in succession at the Memorial Auditorium in 1981. Limon had lost in earlier bids to win a title. The third time was the charm.

Limon, behind on the judges’ scorecards, rallied to knock out favored Rolando Naverrete in the 12th round in Las Vegas.

Chacon wanted one more shot at a world title. The two rivals would meet for the last time two weeks before Christmas in 1982.

The arena was buzzing hours before the fight. Some boxing experts favored Limon. The Sacramento crowd was firmly in Chacon’s corner. Limon banged Chacon around early. His reach advantage was paying off. Chacon fought back with an intensity and counter shots that bothered Limon.

Limon floored Chacon in round three to maintain his lead. Chacon found success with his right hand against his southpaw opponent.  The give-and-take continued in the middle rounds. The crowd was screaming itself hoarse.

Chacon was hurt by a left, and dug into his deep reserve to win rounds eight and nine, but a Limon left knocked him down a few minutes later. Chacon had a cut on the bridge of his nose that was leaking blood. They continued exchanging punches consistently down the stretch. Through 14 rounds, the fight was in the balance.

The 15th and final round would decide the fight.

The crowd started chanting Bobby, Bobby before the bell rang. Chacon, though exhausted, stalked Limon, refusing to lose.

With 15 seconds left in the bout, Chacon struck. Two successive rights crashed off Limon’s chin, causing him to collapse in the corner.

The judges declared Chacon the split-decision victor.

I glanced at the spot of the last-round knockdown one more time before getting up to leave.

What a fight.

What an arena.