Pain for Love: Chico & Rocky's Sr. and Jr.

I would like to go back a few years to the old PAL Boxing Gym in Sacramento where I first met Diego. I remember meeting the Pal Crew and the whole bunch of boxers who are now much older. By now, my son Logan had sparred with the boys and Rocky Jr., sparred with Diego a lot. One day, Diego came up to me and asked me to glove him up, so as I did he started to stare at my head upon which was “perfectly” bald. I saw an opportunity to make a new friend so I said, You know Diego, when it hails in the winter I run outside and let the hail bounce off my head. I put my finger in my ears and it feels really neat and sounds weird  he might of been in shock for a few minutes (maybe longer) I said yeah, when you go bald you will understand. 

I think he was about 12 maybe 13 years old. It seemed a long time had passed and one day after a bout, Diego came over to me and said Hey Rocky, it really does sound wierd when you plug your ears when hail hits you!  It sounds wierd in the shower to! It took a few minutes for me to understand what he meant, but when he took off his headgear, he was pretty close to being bald. Probably a fad the guys go thru. After that we became pretty good pals. An Ice Breaker I guess. 

Some time later on, I remember a boxing club from Stockton, or somewhere would come in and spar the Sacramento boys. Me being white, older, and a bald guy must have made them wonder who I was. I got lots of hard looks from these guys and I felt pretty uneasy. 

Chico must of saw what was going on so he walked over to the guys and talked to them for quite awhile. It wasn’t much later that 3 or 4 boys at a time came up to me and shook my hand, gave me their names, and were quite friendly!!!! Before leaving the gym that night I asked Chico; Hey Chico, what did you say to the Stockton boys?  

I thought they were going to mob me or somethng! Diego said, Oh, I told them you were a cool dude and when it hailed, you would stand outside and let it hit you on your head, and that was a sign of a Bad Dude!  He would always pat me on the head and it would bring him good luck!  The boxing Club and I became good buddies. 

Whenever or wherever we met we would give the old handshake and hug. Little did Diego know that he was being a good example to his club and to all those he met. Deigo was always kind and respectul in his manner to me and my boys. He was a good boy -- R. Twitchell Sr.

In most boxing gyms across the world a student walks in the gym with visions of becoming a Golden Gloves Champion or an Olympic Champion and best yet a World Champion. Hours of hard training, traveling long distances to fight for only 9 minutes it all adds up to a positive experience for some and or negative experience for very many. 

When I first met Diego at the Sacramento PAL boxing gym he was just a young boy and I was a grown man. We had a lot of boxers come and go. Bruised ego's ,broken noses, black eyes, boxer complaining that "training is too hard" or " I would rather have  a girlfriend" was usually the reasons many would pack their gym bag and disappear. But not Diego. His tenor as a young man was coming to an end. 

I do recall one day training in the gym,Diego's father approached me and asked me to spar the then young Diego Corrales. I was going to be his sparring partner for an upcoming Blue & Gold Tournament is So. Cal. As I prepared for sparring and was getting warmed up and making adjustments' to my gloves and headgear, Diego's mother approached me and told me to go easy on Diego and promise not to bust his nose, or hurt him in anyway. 

Talk about pressure, Previously I wasn't nervous preparing to spar, but I was now.! I told myself  to be extra careful, let him get the best of me. Olga was ringside making sure all was going to go as planned. I remember I was shadow boxing in the ring , ready to rumble. I looked at Diego  he was nervous too… 

I looked over to Olga standing ringside....I  became even more nervous. The buzzer rang and we began our sparring session. I recall the 1st round went very well. I blocked and parried most everything  Diego threw at me. I worked a lot of defense. Ray whispered in my ear " Ok round 2 ,turn it up Rock, don't cradle him any more" I looked over at Olga glaring up at me from ringside. The ropes in  the boxing ring  serve several purposes, to keep boxers in and keep loving mothers out!!!! 

The buzzer rang and I worked defense. Midway through round 2  I heard Ray say "  Come on Rock,  turn it up don't cradle him" So I let a few  left jabs out and threw a  power right cross that  made contact with Diego's nose and  stopped  Diego in his tracks. Diego reacted by covering up and his face with both gloves and then noticed the blood dripping on the laces of his gloves. Olga jumped up on the ring apron and exclaimed " RAY.......ROCKY !!!!! "  I remember my immediate thought  " I will never hear the end of this…how I beat up Olga's little Chico.......busted his nose and made him bleed, I'm a dead man " Ray  stopped the sparring and tended to Diego's busted nose and Olga stood ringside  and consoled Chico.

 The buzzer ended Round 2 and I thought for sure Olga would yell "pack your  gym bag old man  and go home." Olga would never want me around  here ever again. The Round 3 buzzer sounded and Ray motioned for us to continue. What? Its not over?  I looked at Olga ,  if looks could kill ,boy did I want to go home !!! Ray yelled " LETS GO !!! " Olga screamed " Ray ,NO !!!!!!" We touched gloves and finished round 3. I looked over to Ray then looked over to Olga still standing on the edge of the Ring.....glaring at Diego and glaring at me...…Ray  calmly exclaimed " Diego needed that  Rock ,boxing is tough, Diego just took a step up in the boxing world" Diego went down to that Blue & Gold Tournament and  won his Division. 

It was that Tournament that changed Diego from a young man to a  grown man. From that point on Diego was no longer a normal boxer. Many sparring partners got pulverized ,out gunned and bruised every time they stepped into  the ring. One of those  sparring  partners was me !!!!!Diego found that Championship aura. His attitude determined his altitude. He won Championship after Championship. Many obstacles were placed in Diego's way but with true Championship spirit ,will and zest for life, Diego over came them and became a World Champion ! I was glad to be a part of that self discovery Diego made when I bloodied his nose and he gathered himself and went on to be a World Class Warrior                                                              Rocky Jr.,

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Pain for Love: The Diego Corrales Story

Almost five years later, it’s still as fresh as the day we heard the news of Chico’s passing. It was especially hard for my family: our dad and Chico’s original trainer, Ray Charles Woods; my mom Olga; myself Esteban L. Corrales; and my brother Daryl Maze Woods; and Chico’s five children. 

To tell the story of boxing’s true warrior spirit would prove difficult for anyone who ever had the pleasure to sit in the same room with him. It's even more difficult for a brother who would spend the next four and a half years in a daze -- numb to the world and disinterested in a sport which was very much a staple in the Woods household, Diego Corrales' home. For me, it was like Superman was dead. 

I remember the overwhelming anger I felt in the wake of his passing, and having no one to blame other than the sport itself and the stresses that came along with it. Boxing was the reason I no longer had my brother -- not Diego Corrales the fighter, but my brother Chico.

Learning to live without your brother is a day-by-day process. One day I sat in a sports bar nursing a beer and I looked up at the television and there was a boxing match on. As I focused in on the screen, I did not see a boxing match, not the world's Diego Corrales. Instead, I saw my brother and it seemed as if I was in a room alone giving directions to weave and counter -- bobbing and moving my head as if the punches were being thrown at me. 

I experienced boxing all over again as if it were the first time I watched my brother fight. As the fight ended, I slowly came out of my boxing trance with my heart racing, realizing there was a bar room full of thrilled fans cheering as if the fight were happening live. Still, I walked away as not completely forgiving the sport of boxing for what we had all endured as a family throughout his career.

A year or so later, I sat in a jailhouse dorm room with approximately 30 other inmates in Placer County watching the Corrales/Castillo fight on dorm television, and after shouting at an inmate to leave it on, he reluctantly did so. 

The inmates of the Placer County jail and the officers were all settling in to watch. As the two went toe-to-toe, as the fight progressed, I watched the morale of the inmates and the jail transform into a boxing venue and a place of equality. Correctional officers came into the dorm, sat in the inmate seating and watched the fight. Again, I got to experience boxing and all of its greatness with my brother.

This was about the time the clouds above me finally began to break and in a dark room, I could see the sun and finally hear my brother and all of the silly things he had said to me and the life lessons he had taught me. I came to the realization that life without boxing meant a life without my brother and all of what he had given, not only to the world of boxing, but the entire world.

Esteban

Feeling rejected was not one of the feelings I expected after my brothers passing. When Chico was alive, everyone wanted to be around and keep in touch. But after his death no one made themselves available to us. It was like they didn’t care to see what we were going through. A lot of anger and resentment set in and it didn’t help that me and my brother couldn’t and didn’t talk to each other about it. We just each went in our own direction, lost in our own pain and misery. 

I have respect for a few friends that supported me through a very tragic time. But it should have never been like what we went through. Families are supposed to be part of the ugly hard times as they were for the good times. 

Though we battled through the hardest time of my life and came through okay, every now and then I think about that day that I lost my brother and no one was there for me. But I am also aware that the damage is already done and now I live and try to keep Chico’s memory alive. I try to keep his name out there because it’s important to us as a family to remember my brother. If I learned anything from Chico it was to never give up on anything I believe in. 

I miss Chico and all the fun times we had together as brothers. I remember his visits and the wild trips throughout California, Nevada and Mexico. I remember the great times I had with him in Vegas and being a part of his many boxing training camps. 

I have no choice than to accept my brother’s death, but he is not forgotten and the memories we shared I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. And when I see his pictures on the wall, I see a great fighter, and a boxing legend, and maybe even a Hall of Fame candidate. But I have the honor of saying that he was my brother.

Daryl

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